This was well overdue and I was just lazy to scan it but yeah. I really like the idea of a Conan and Phoenix crossover @deductionfreak made a good amount of it stay in my mind, so basically this is inspired by Sensei
♈ Aries: “k, my time is over”
♉ Taurus: “can I have some chocolate before I..” *dies*
♊ Gemini: *tells an anti-joke*
♋ Cancer: *whispers* “you give me everything just by breathing, darlin’.”
♌ Leo: “I’m finally free”
♍ Virgo: “I think I’m dying”
♎ Libra: “mission accomplished”
♏ Scorpio: “I’ll wait for you….in hell”
♐ Sagittarius: “when am I dead?”
♑ Capricorn: “I think I’m on drugs”
♒ Aquarius: “dying is cooler than I thought”
♓ Pisces: *sings ‘I will survive’ by Gloria Gaynor*
She opens her eyes. Her face is covered in blood.
She appears to be surrounded by twisted trees
in this abysmal dream.
Under a toxic blood red sky,
ghostly clouds quickly passing by.
“Please! Can someone tell me,
this place wherein I dwell,
where does it reside between heaven and hell?
Am i dead?”
But her questions merely echo away into nothingness.
There are voices calling her name
from the blackest corners of his phantasmal void.
“Gretel,join us! Join us! Join us in death. ”
Malevolent entities shaped and twisted in hideous ways.
No mind of human kind could have architected such a infernal place.
Under a toxic blood red sky,
ghostly clouds quickly passing by.
“Please! Can someone set me free!
I’m being held in a nightmare.
I’m kept in purgatory!”
Finally she stumbles on this trail
made of candy.
Like a hungry bird feeding crumbs of bread,
consuming them one by one,
hopefully this is the trail of delicacy lead towards
a better place ahead.
But no, it lead her further and further into the darkness.
It reeks on burning flesh,
then the trail suddenly ends…
there’s a dark presence lurking in the shadows.
It just entered purgatory
because the body was cauterized within the fires of reality.
The spectral corpse of the clowns was heavily burned.
Her brother’s murderer has returned…
A stifling feeling when his charred hands take hold to her.
She cannot move.
She cannot defend herseld.
When will this suffocating dream finally end?
The stench of burnt flesh becomes the smell of alcohol,
and when her bastard father shuts the door behind him,
she realizes: It was just a dream.
The real nightmare continues in reality.
There’s no place like home.
There’s no place like home.
Summary: Another encounter with
Crowley, King of Hell, leaves the reader weak in the knees.
Word count: 1489
I was separated from the Winchesters
by a gang of demons; trying to fight three of them at the same time. They had
me cornered, leaning against the cold window glass. Behind them, Sam and Dean was
fighting their way to my side, but the knot in my stomach told me they’d be too
One of the demons in front of me
raised his fist, ready to crack my skull open, but in the last minute, I
flinched away, and he hit the window instead. Millions of tiny shards of broken
glass showered through the air, pulverising as they hit the ground five storeys
I wobbled for a second, before
toppling backwards, racing after the glass. Somewhere above me I heard someone
yell my name.
I feel like hell. Acid is coursing through my veins, leaches are eating away at my heart. My hands naturally make fists now, my jaw is constantly clenched. My eyes droop—looking through things; looking at nothing—and my ears block out all sound. I’ve lost my sense of touch; I can’t feel things physically or emotionally now. I’m choking on my words, my thoughts are swirling inside my mind giving me headaches inside of headaches. My cheeks are on fire, burning and burning until I’m just ashes and the wind blows me away; suddenly I am nothing. So don’t ask me what’s wrong. I’m a whole lot of hell and a whole lot of nothing. I’ll torture you and agonize you and you’ll be left wondering what happened, since nothing happened.
Don’t be surprised when the hell in me burns you to the ground, and please don’t pretend it wasn’t nothing
AN Wow this was a lot longer than I intended oops, but I know you guys are eager to see more vampire michael, so I wrote this up for you! Also, that imagine I reblogged is just a spinoff written by someone else, it was just an alternate ending, so don’t worry about it, I just wanted you guys to see it xx Next up is the next chapter of Serial Killer Cal! Enjoy lovelies xx
“I’m a vampire.” We stared at each other, and as I watched his green eyes darken, mine shifted to the floor, my eyelashes fanning my gaze.
“You’re not a vampire,” I told him with a scoff.
“Yes I am, Y/N, any normal human would be dead by that, which explains why my parents died. I didn’t, I was saved.”
“Michael, vampires don’t exist.”
“Do you have proof of that, love?”
“Well, no, but-”
“Then how can you sit there and tell me that,” he interrupted. “You don’t know you can’t say the facts, I’m a vampire, have been since that accident. That’s what those hunters were, they were vampire hunters hunting me.”
“What the hell, what the hell. I’m dead. I. Am. Dead.” He muttered to himself for five minutes straight.
Alcor, whose face was covered in amusement, sat crosslegged in midair, watching Mizar’s biggest fan, the boy who had purposely failed at summoning him for months, fall to pieces when confronted by the demon Alcor.
He hadn’t really noticed the failed summons before (they happened all the time, usually to be routed towards the Organ Duck or Demon Slugs), but then, two months ago, the kid had started leaving messages. The first had been “Thanks.” and had rapidly progressed to a full on review of each different set of music that played.
He and Mabel had sat up talking and, whilebthey were flattered, had decided to confront the boy if, when, he attempted the summoning again. It had been pure luck that his had been the only summons of the night.
“Hi.” He had said simply, poofing into existence in the summoning circle. The girlish, high pitched scream and muttering that had followed were the most hilarious thing ever.
“Woah. Kid, calm down. Im not going to steal your soul.” He said, stepping across the summoning circle and getting the blanket off his bed.
Eric flinched but took the blanket, figuring that he was already dead so he should enjoy the moment.
“Why haven’t I burned your house down, tortured you, ripped your body apart piece by piece until your soul is visible and then devour it? Because you’re young and you should learn while you are young that demons are NOT your personal radios.” Alcor said, his voice factual, the slight menace making him crystal clear.
Eric gulped, and hugged his blanket tighter.
“So how did it start? This summoning repetition?” Alcor asked.
Eric sighed. “It was something stupid.”
At Alcor’s prompting Eric told him.
“I wanted enough money to impress this girl I liked, to take her out and be able to make her like me. But I didn’t get you. I got the answering machine. I fell asleep listening to the songs. I woke up and you weren’t here and the machine was gone. Eventually I figured out that nobody would really like me if I just threw around money.”
Alcor nodded. “But that doesn’t explain why you summoned me again and again.”
“Well the first few times it was to thank you for a round about solution to my problem. But I never got you. After a while, it was just normal for me to summon the machine when I was stuck or bored or I was having a bad day…” Eric shrugged. “It just was normal for me. Eventually I was able to do a perfect summoning circle to get the answering machine every time.”
Dipper (because by this time he had returned to normal) smacked him smartly uptop the head. “Do you know how stupid that was? You could have gotten a completely different demon!” Dipper huffed, his face thoughtful.
“If you don’t do it again, I see no reason why I shouldn’t let this slide. But if you summon me again for anything less than a deal, I have now problem demonstrating why this is a bad idea.”
Eric nodded eagerly, promising not to summon Alcor again unless he wanted to make a deal. He was sure if he did, he wouldn’t walk away scot free.
A week later and Eric was EXHAUSTED! It was Friday and after a week full of jeers, bullies, bad grades and FOUR failed tests he wanted nothing more than to lock his door, change into his relaxation clothes, and summon the Answering Machine. Oh wait…
Eric slammed his room’s door closed and was sure he was in for a bad weekend. He looked up and stared.
Sitting on the floor in the middle of the room was a small gold box with black wrappings. Eric waited for a few minutes, wondering if he should touch it.
Finally he grabbed the broom and poked it.
The black wrappings unwound and turned into wings as the box floated up to chest height. Buttons gleamed on the top and he pressed the one that said play.
“I WAS COMPLETELY AGAINST THIS. BUT MIZAR SAID THAT HER #1 FAN NEEDED TO BE CONGRATULATED. SO HERE’S A GIFT FROM US, YOUR VERY OWN ANSWERING MACHINE. ENJOY.”
The message ended with a beep and a flash. When the spots faded from his eyes, the answering machine was still there, along with a small gold trophy that had two stars etched on it with the words “The Award for Most Times Listening to the Answering Machine in a Year goes to: Eric Flores” around the edge.
15 years later Eric was the founder of the newest chapter of the Cult of Endless Hymns. Dipper was not amused.
((Author’s note: this prompt was given to me by yurix-a. It is one of several and I am so sorry it took so long to do. I hope I lives up to your expectations.))