#1930s black bag

[susoriginals]

Vintage Ladies Brown Vinyl Clutch & Black Top Handle Bag with Matching Coin Purse top clasp for black bag sticks, Wounded Bird get Both for $8

#vintage purse #vintage bag #vintage bags #vintage clutch #black purse #1950s clutch #1930s purse #1930s black purse #1930s black bag #1930s accessories #1950s purse #1950s clutch bag #susoriginals #vintage #etsy #vintage accessories

[zegalba]

my vintage 1930’s black chain mail clutch

#zegalba #mine #chain mail #black #clutch #bag #vintage #1930s #edc #stuff #layout 1

[bloody-peach]

Demonic Possession (BATIM smut: Ink Demon x F!Reader) [NSFW]

(art by Hikase555)

Goodie Bag: Vaginal sex, creampie, monster sex, biting/marking, breeding, fluff and smut, dry humping, grinding [please let me know if i'm missing anything].

Now Playing: The Rigs - Devil's Playground (click here to listen)

Taglist: @omniuravity @eldritch-affair and any other fellow monster/demon fuckers!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

A/N: Oooh man, the monster fucker in me is salivating over Ink Demon rn. I couldn't find a lot of Ink Demon smut (if any) so I made one myself. A few things before we start. 1) The ink demon will not be referred to as Bendy in this, just 'the Ink Demon'. I go against canon and see Bendy and the Ink Demon as separate entities, so it applies here. 2) the look of the Ink Demon in this story is going by hikase555's design. The header image is by them, but here's another one for further reference: [click here]. 3) I had my boyfriend help me with the intro, so if there appears to be a slight disconnect in writing styles at the start, that is why. One last thing: if you ever get confused on how kissing works in this, the kisses work pretty much like how it worked in this image: [click here]. Ok, on with the show!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Bending through the corridors of the Cycle left closed and locked away, a sound painfully wailed behind the walls. He once found comfort being given form, but now he dreads the very existence left to be his fate; why must ink demons have heat cycles?

The Ink Demon knew that his heat would start today, it started the same time each year (wait, do years even go by in the cycle?). He would usually be able to control it by pleasuring himself in many different ways, and it would usually work, but now he was insatiable. He needed to find a mate or else lose his mind trying to hold off til the end of his cycle, which he knew he couldn't do.

As he ran through the list of potential candidates in his head, a shrill scream rang out through the halls. It wasn't a scream he recognized as anyone from the studio, so he went to investigate. He followed the commotion to find a chase between the Projectionist, and a woman he'd never seen before. A smile grew on the Ink Demon's face. Maybe this was his chance.

-Some time before-

You heard the rumors about the abandoned studio from the 1930s near your apartment from many people, but never really believed them. However, the mystery of what could be inside the surprisingly intact building enticed you to go see for yourself. When you entered the studio, everything around you turned black and sepia. You walked through the halls and explored the many rooms, to the point where it seemed endless.

But you soon found that, unfortunately, you were not alone.

Many humanoid blobs made of ink and morphed versions of the Bendy characters would try to attack you, at an increasingly growing rate. You were able to outrun them, but you started to grow paranoid over whether they'll be back. Nevertheless, you kept exploring, but you carried a makeshift weapon (you found a broken piece of pipe). You walked into a room where there was a projector running, displaying some footage for some TV special with Joey Drew as the host. You took a closer look at the projector, impressed by its ability to still run after all these years. But then, you noticed ink starting to drip down the projector. The ink formed into a puddle and then grew into a body, attaching to the projector. It lifted it off the stand and was now a walking ink being with the projector as its head. The creature turned to you and let out a terrifying shriek, then started to charge at you. You dodged it and ran out of the room, the projector being chasing you.

-Now-

You ran and ran as fast as you could but you could hear that projector being catching up to you. Soon, to your horror, you hit a dead end. You turned to see your demise coming closer and closer. You put your arms up in a defensive position and shut your eyes tight, waiting for a swift death. But then there was a loud sound and then, silence. You slowly opened your eyes and saw the projector on the ground, separated from the demon's body. You put your arms down and almost jumped when you saw who killed it.

It was a 7 foot tall, malformed figure with skin made of black ink that almost looked like tar, appearing to have a fit human torso, legs, and arms, but with a very small waist. His head looked like Bendy's, but it looked like someone dumped ink on his head, making him look melted. It covered his eyes, so you couldn't see them, if he even had any. His horns were curved and almost looked like a crescent moon, almost. His smile matched Bendy's, but it was much wider. His left hand had 4 fingers and was wearing a white, ink-stained glove, while the other hand had 5 fingers and wore nothing. While you couldn't help but blush as you looked at him, you noticed that he wasn't trying to attack you. He was just...standing there, looking at you.

He stood motionless, his gaze fixed on you. His presence felt unnerving and sinister as he slowly approached you, a faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth. You started to relax as your fear started to dissipate. When you saw its smile, you couldn’t help but feel a blush appear on your cheeks. The Ink Demon's smile widened as he continued to approach you, his steps slow and deliberate. His gaze, intense and penetrating, never left your face. He then knelt in front of you, his head in front of your chest, which brought a lump to your throat for some reason. Maybe it was the invasion of personal space.

You felt a bit of unease in your stomach due to his gaze, but you figured he was safe, since he saved you from that projector thing. You cautiously reached your hand out and you gently put your hand on his cheek. As your fingers made contact with the Ink Demon's face, his inky skin felt cool and smooth to the touch. The ink didn’t stick to your fingers, much to your surprise. He remained still for a moment before slowly tilting his head slightly, resting his head in your hand, a low purr in his throat. It seemed that he found comfort in your touch.

You reached your other hand to touch his other cheek and you couldn’t help but smile warmly, realizing he wasn’t like the other monsters in this building, and that your assumption of him being safe was right. The Ink Demon's expression seemed to glimmer with a mix of curiosity and something akin to affection as you held his head in your hands. You felt as he slowly placed his large hands around you, like he was holding a doll. The Ink Demon's grip on you was surprisingly gentle, his ink-covered hands enveloping you with an almost protective hold. He was handling you like you were made of glass and if he moved wrong or squeezed you too tight, you’d shatter to pieces.

His gaze remain fixed on your face, his expression filled with a strange sense of connection. You couldn’t deny that you felt that connection too, along with a warm feeling in your chest. You thought about how sweet this demon was being, that maybe this was its true nature. You then thought about how it must’ve been so long since he’s seen anyone here that wasn’t a monster out for blood, and how lonely he must’ve been. After that thought, you felt a sense of compassion for this creature and you leaned forward and laid a soft kiss on his head.

The Ink Demon seemed surprised by the action, because it backed up a bit. You felt like you did something wrong, so you said, “I-I’m sorry. Was that too much..? I..I...” That’s when the Ink Demon slowly shook his head, his face softening as he continued to hold you. He reached up with one hand and gently touched the spot where you kissed him, a small smile forming on his face. Something told you that he really liked that. After that, he lifted you up and took you to another room.

The next thing you knew, you were in a room with a makeshift bed in the middle of the room. Must’ve been where the Ink Demon slept, you figured. As he placed you on the mattress and stood in front of you, you wondered why he brought you here, until you thought more on it.

Why else would someone bring you to their room? Because they want you to stay.

You look at the Ink Demon and ask, “You..want me to stay with you, don’t you?” The Ink Demon's smile widened slightly, and he nodded in response to your question. He released his grip on you but took your hand and gently held it, as if urging you to stay. Well, it wasn’t like there was anything for you outside of the building. You had no one waiting for you, no one to be worried about you if you disappeared. Plus, it’s not like there was a possible exit to this place anyways. So you looked at the demon and smiled, saying, “Alright. I’ll stay with you.” The Ink Demon's eyes lit up with a mixture of gratitude and excitement, then he nuzzled the top of your head and licked your cheek.

You felt a stinging pain on your cheek, so you touched where he licked and there was blood. Turns out you got hurt as you ran away from that Projector Demon. You noticed you got a few scratches on your cheek and on the side of your neck and on your shoulder, all bleeding. “Shit...” you said to yourself. The Ink Demon tilted his head slightly, observing your injuries with a mix of curiosity and concern. Slowly, he went to your cheek again. The Ink Demon’s long, inky tongue snaked out from his mouth and delicately licked at the blood on your wounds. As you felt the stings, you noticed that even though he was terrifying and intimidating, he was still being so gentle with you. As he continued to clean your wounds, a low growl rumbled in his chest, almost as if he was trying to comfort you. You felt a blush form on your cheeks and when you heard his comforting purr, you felt touched that he cared about you enough to comfort you through the pain.

He then moved from your cheek to your neck and shoulder. You felt his hot breath on your neck, his tongue slowly caressing it as he cleaned up the blood. It sent a heat down to your very core and you could feel yourself getting hot from this. As he slid his tongue down to your shoulder wound, you accidentally let out a soft moan. In response, the Ink Demon’s purr deepened as he continued to lick your wounds. His tongue brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His gaze stayed locked on you as he continued to lick you, seemingly lost in thought.

He went towards the spot between your shoulder and your neck and he growled again, but a bit louder this time. He then bit down gently on your skin, drawing a bit of blood. A small, almost unnoticeable amount of ink dripped from his teeth onto your skin, sinking into the bite as he marked you as his. You gasped softly as he bit you, but not out of pain. The ink seemed to numb any pain the bite would've caused and it actually intensified your heat. You couldn’t help but start to feel aroused from his bite, his tongue, his touch, his everything. The Ink Demon’s growling deepened as he continued to leave more marks on your shoulder, now with more purpose than before. He could sense your arousal, and it only served to fuel his own. He knew that you had to be his mate, there was no denying it. He wanted you oh so badly, his very being was screaming for him to devour you.

You couldn’t help but reach your hands out and touch him. You wanted to feel his skin, to know that what you were experiencing was real. The Ink Demon closed his eyes and purred, reveling in the warmth of your touch. You gently touch his arm, trailing your fingers along his slick inky skin. You reached his hand and after feeling his palm and fingers, you gently intertwined your fingers with his, holding his hand. He smiled warmly and leaned down slightly, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing your intertwined fingers to rest between you. You blushed red and you felt a warm and tight feeling in your chest. Were you starting to fall for this gentle beast?

You started to trail your other hand down his chest and along his stomach, feeling how smooth his skin was. The Ink Demon inhaled deeply, his body shuddering slightly at your touch. He gazed at you, his cheeks flushed and his smile so warm and inviting. He reached out with his other hand, placing it on the small of your back and pulling you closer to him. You gasp softly at his touch, sending shivers down your spine. “Y..You can..t..touch me too...i..if you want,” you were able to say softly.

The Ink Demon pressed his lips against yours, the kiss gentle and slow. His hand moved up your back, tracing the curve of your spine and pulling you even closer to him. His other hand trails down your side, resting on your hip as he explored your body. You kissed him back, letting a moan escape into his mouth. The Ink Demon smiled, pulling away from your lips to kiss your cheek and neck. His hand moved down to your thigh, slowly tracing its contours as he pulled you even closer to him. You sighed softly as his fingers traced along your thigh, opening your legs slightly to let him touch even more of you. The Ink Demon's hand moved further up your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your dress and exploring the smooth skin beneath. He pressed his forehead against yours, letting out a purr and allowing himself to fully experience the sensations that were running through him. You felt your body heat up more as his hand slid up your dress, and you decided to just speed up the process for him. “H..Here...let me help you..”

You undid your dress and let it slide off of you, leaving you nude except for your panties. You heard a deep lust-filled purr in his throat once you were nude. He gently laid you onto the mattress, ready to prepare you for him. The Ink Demon moved his hand up to your breast, squeezing it gently and exploring the contours of your body with his fingertips as he kissed your neck and shoulder, licking the fresh bite mark and your wounds. He pressed his groin against yours, feeling the heat between your legs as he explored your body with his hands, mouth, and tongue. You moaned as you felt the heat from between his legs touch yours. You couldn't help but slowly rub your groin against his, so he felt as good as he was making you feel.

The Ink Demon smiled, admiring your desire for him. His hand moved up to your face, cupping your cheek as he leaned in to kiss your lips again. He pressed his groin against yours, feeling your warm, wet center against him as you both move against each other, your bodies intertwined and your breaths becoming heavier and faster. The Ink Demon moved his hips against yours, feeling your body shudder with pleasure as you came closer and closer to release. He slipped his hand down to your panties, feeling the wetness between your legs as he ripped them off, exposing you to him completely.

Once your panties were gone, you felt something touch your pussy. You look down and you saw something growing from his groin, which formed into a large cock, matching his skin. The Ink Demon smirked as he grabbed your thighs and rubbed his cock on your pussy for a bit, until he slipped his hand between your bodies, guiding his cock inside of you, gripping both your thighs and slowly pushing himself deep inside. You couldn’t help but let out a moan as he stretched your walls so deliciously. He leaned forward, grabbed your jaw, and kissed your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth as he feels your body writhe beneath him. He started doing long and deep thrusts, your bodies entwined and your breath coming in short, gasping breaths as you both feel the pleasure building within you both.

You had never felt this sort of ecstasy before in your life, not even with any other partner. This thing was reaching depths you never knew were possible, sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had. “Ahh..! S..So..good..!!” you couldn’t help but let out of your lips once he broke the kiss. The Ink Demon's hand moved down to your ass, squeezing it gently as he thrusted into you, feeling your body shudder with pleasure. He kissed your neck and shoulder, his tongue exploring the contours of your skin as you both come closer and closer to release. He could feel his cock throb inside of you, the pleasure building within him as he moved faster and faster, feeling her body writhe beneath him.

He changed position slightly as he lost himself in the pleasure, grabbing your wrists and putting them above your head, your legs a bit in the air as he leaned towards you more and thrusted harder into you. You moaned at each thrust, trying not to cry out loud. The Ink Demon let his tongue out and licked up your belly and breasts as he fucked you so well. Ink dripped from his tongue, leaving trails on your body, like you were his canvas for his lust-filled creation.

He kissed your lips once again, feeling your tongue explore his mouth as you both came closer and closer to release. Finally, he felt your body convulse beneath him, your pussy clenching around his cock as you came, your moans filling the air as you cry out in ecstasy. He follows soon after, letting out a primal roar and feeling his cock throb as he filled you full with his hot, sticky seed. You felt like you were in another realm than you were as the pleasure from your release flowed throughout your body and you arched your back. All that existed was your full womb, the cock inside you, your body, and pleasure. You could feel his seed fill your belly so much that the sensation caused a second orgasm to rock your body.

Once you come back to reality, you both stay like that for a moment, your bodies intertwined and covered in each others’ cum as you both caught your breath, before the Ink Demon collapsed onto the bed, laying next to you and pulling you close. The Ink Demon kissed your cheek, feeling your smile as you both lay there, your hearts pounding in your chests. You hugged him close, your head resting on his chest. He then leaned to your ear and whispered in a deep, gravelly voice, “I love you.” While you were a bit surprised he could actually talk, you felt warmth flood your heart and you smile, kissing his cheek before saying, “I love you too.” The Ink Demon smiled, feeling his heart swell with warmth as he hugged you tightly. He rested his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of your warm body pressed against his. You both lay there, holding each other close, until eventually, you both fall asleep, your bodies still intertwined.

‘I think I’m going to love this new life,’ you thought to yourself before letting sleep take you.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

#batim #batdr #batim ink demon #batdr ink demon #ink demon #ink demon x reader #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #batim smut #batim fanfiction #batim fanfic #bendy #bendy fanfiction #bendy fanfic

[my-own-walker]

Reptilia

summary: it’s your first time at the cortez. it’s devil’s night. james has plans for you. you have plans too.

warnings: sm*t, choking, murder, drowning, drugging, knives, etc

+++

He seemed impressed by the way you came in. Your poise as you made your way into the Hotel Cortez almost made the room stop. A glimmer in your eyes told him that there was something special about you. It was Devil's Night, and your curiosity had been piqued. You'd heard stories of the ghosts in the building celebrating in lavish ways on October 30th.

Your friends viewed you as mad. It was amusing to them that you believed in spirits and all things supernatural in the way you did. It wasn't just an interest, it was an obsession. A way of life.

James Patrick March watched from the balcony that overlooked the lobby. Watched as your hips swayed as you walked. Watched as a smirk stayed on your lips as you checked in. Watched as you entered the elevator with your overnight bag.

He found you as you walked through the halls to your suite. Room 63. Slinked quietly behind you until he saw an opportune moment to approach you without startling you. A soft touch glanced at your upper arm just as you stuck the key into your suite door's lock. You spun to face the dark-haired man standing before you.

'I don't mean to startle you, miss,' he spoke in a thick trans-Atlantic accent.

'Oh, not at all. I'm fine, I was ju-'

'My, you are one pretty bird,' he said in a sing-songy tone. You couldn't even respond. A hot flush rushed to your cheeks as you smiled and cast your eyes to the ground. 'Now, now, you mustn't hide that lovely face of yours.' He lifted your chin up. As your eyes met his, a funny feeling coursed through your middle. Recognition.

'Well, thank you, Mister...' you replied.

'March. James Patrick March. But you, my dear, can call me James,' he smiled.

'Y/N,' you whispered.

'Y/N,' he repeated. The word danced out of his mouth in the most delicious way, swirling around your head like a thick smoky haze. 'I have a proposition for you, Y/N.'

'You do?' you laughed.

'Come to my gathering tonight. It's in suite number 78. Knock twice and only twice,' he instructed.

'Uh, alright,' you spoke, your tone reflecting tone of someone taken aback by his forthrightness. 'I will be there, Mr. March.'

'Again dearest, it's James to you,' he declared, already walking away.

'Okay James,' you called after him, turning back to the task of getting into your room.

+

You spent the afternoon preparing yourself for the party. James was a classy man. He was a true 1930s time capsule. He spoke like a rich man and dressed like one as well. You picked out a black dress and a simple string of pearls. Something fit for a rich person’s soirée.

As soon as night fell, you were at the door marked '78' knocking twice, as James instructed.

'Ah, there she is!' James announced as he opened the door. 'Our guest of honor.' You stepped into the entryway and were met with a stale floral aroma and the most gorgeous room you'd ever seen. Candelabras burned all throughout the space, flickering, creating the perfect ambiance.

You smiled sheepishly as James led you into the dining room and presented you to the room full of people. Men dressed as serial killers sat around the table, smiling expectantly at you. Jeffery Dahmer, John Wayne Gacy, Richard Ramirez. All horror freaks, just like you.

'Hiya,' you grinned, shifting your weight uncomfortably on your feet.

'This is Y/N,' James said, adding a flourish with his hand.

'Tell us a story, I know you're not boring,' a man dressed as Richard Ramirez quipped. 'If I have to hear about Gacy's woodworking hobby one more time I will simply scream.'

'Oh, um, well, I'm not sure what to tell,' you murmured. A table of people wanting to hear something about you. Talk about pressure.

'Dear, have a seat,' James assured you, placing his hand on the small of your back as he guided you to the nearest open chair. You sat gently and smoothed the front of your dress, looking around the table anxiously.

'Well, c'mon. Tell us somethin'!' the Ramirez lookalike pressed.

'I was afraid that you would not insist,' James smirked. 'I must hear something simply juicy about you, nightingale.' He put a hand on top of mine.

'You're in a strange part of our town, tell us something strange,' Ramirez continued.

'Okay,' you replied, steeling yourself. 'What if I told you I faked my death to come here today?'

'I'd say you're lying,' the Dahmer character spoke.

'No, sir, I did. In fact, the plot was so elaborate, I may have to disappear forever.'

'Do tell us more,' James hummed, standing and walking over to a bar cart in the corner of the room. He began pouring drinks for all of the members of the party.

'I'm more cunning than you'd think, people. I wasn't allowed to leave home. I drove my own car into the river and sold my father's gold watch to pay for my train ticket. I needed to escape, and I did. Now I am patiently waiting for the catastrophe of my situation to seem beautiful again,' you explained.

'You drove your car into a river. Real interesting,' the Ramirez character snarked, yawning.

'You sound so sleepy, just take this,' James said, handing him green-hued liquid in a crystal glass.

'Whatever, take my story as you will,' you sighed. 'Just know that there's more to me than meets the eye.' James slid a glass to you and winked.

'Drink up, dear,' he smiled. 'Everyone, drink! Let us celebrate Devil's Night.' The individuals at the table raised their glasses and sipped. You joined, but smelling the sweet licorice smell of absinthe, you thought better than to actually drink.

After some polite conversation and more drinks, the room grew in energy. About an hour went by. The people at the table became restless. Their drinks were finally beginning to take effect.

'My pretty bird,' James purred in your ear. 'Can I show you to my bedroom?'

'Absolutely,' you replied. The moment you were waiting for. He took you by the hand and guided you through the suite and into a lavish bedroom. You ignored the hoots and hollers of the other guests as you walked. Crude.

As soon as the door shut, James had you pinned against a wall, one hand around your neck, another behind your head so you wouldn’t hit it. His lips made contact with yours passionately. There was a hunger there.

‘I know there’s a darkness within you,’ James breathed, separating from your mouth for just a second before continuing to kiss you. ‘Please don't slow me down if I'm going too fast. I so desperately need you.’

You leaned into his desperation and began to fumble with the buttons on the front of his shirt. You unclipped his suspenders and threw them across the room. His shirt fell open with the release of the last button. You smoothed your hands over his strong chest. All the while, James had already unzipped your dress all too easily. It pooled heavily at your feet.

He picked you up and tossed you onto the soft bed. The silky duvet cover felt like diamonds on your bare skin. James stood at the edge of the bed removing his trousers. He slicked his hair back with one hand before returning his attention to you.

His tongue trailed from your left hip bone all the way up to your neck as he crawled onto the bed. You shivered and moaned quietly. He kissed hard and fast all over your body, making sure to leave a mark or two here and there to prove he had been there.

Your back arched as you anticipated his entrance. He thrust into you with power and let out a deep groan.

‘James,’ you cried, waves of pleasure washing over you as he fucked you brutishly. The gentle touches of earlier were replaced by animalistic passion. He placed his hands over your throat and began to choke you, just a bit. Your eyes lit up. There was nothing you loved more than that.

He slid in and out of your wet pussy mercilessly, making you continuously cry out in pleasure. It was not long before you both came with thunderous moans and screams.

James crashed down onto the bed beside you and reached over to his bedside table, lighting a cigarette before returning.

‘That was wonderful,’ he cooed.

‘It was,’ you agreed. ‘We should go again.’

‘Ah, my dear, but I have guests to attend to.’

‘I see. I really should get going, then,’ you decided, sitting up to find your dress. You couldn’t shake the pit that formed in your stomach the minute you walked in. Him not wanting more was giving you an out.

'The night's not over,’ he protested.

‘You're not trying hard enough,’ you smirked. ‘If you want me here, you really gotta try to keep me.’

‘Oh, I can think of an arrangement,’ he said, a sick tone coloring his words. You grabbed your dress from the floor and slipped it on, half zipping it before giving up. ‘Here, love, let me help you.’

You stepped over to James who was now standing beside the bed. He took the zipper in his fingers and tugged it up gently. Before you could move, though, his hand was over your mouth. His other arm was wrapped around your body, a knife hovering over your stomach.

‘The wait is over, dearest. I'm now taking over,’ he growled. ‘It’s time for the main event.’

Quick on your feet, you slipped down and out of his grip and scrambled to your feet in the corner of the room.

‘Fuck you, March, I knew this would happen,’ you spat. A look of utter confusion crossed his face. ‘I know who you are, James Patrick March. I’ve heard the stories. You’re dead.’

‘I’m sure I don’t understand,’ he started.

‘I’m sure you don’t. You’re not laughing now, huh?’ you challenged. ‘I didn’t drink that stupid shit. I know you lure people here to kill them on Devil’s Night. Innocent looking girls, like me.’

‘You’re a smart one, I see,’ he replied calmly.

‘Let me leave, and we won’t have any problems here,’ you demanded.

‘Now, bird, I see something in you, though. A tactfulness. A darkness. Something that would serve us well over on my side of the mortal plane,’ he spoke. ‘You belong with us.’

‘I risked it all to come here so I could kill you, however you kill a ghost,’ you stammered. You hadn’t entirely thought out your plan. ‘You’re evil.’

'I thought I told you, this world is not for you,’ he replied coldly, creeping toward you, knife still in hand. ‘There’s a reason you threw your old life away to be here. You want to join me.’

‘No,’ you mustered entirely flustered by his words and your lack of a solid plan. He lunged at you quickly and you dodged him, ducking to the side and rushing over to his bedside table. Once again, he made a move to grab you, but you ran, out of the room and into the suite.

The people in the dining room had migrated. They all stared at you as you made your escape, but you didn’t care.

James needed to get some semblance of decent before he came running after you, so it bought you time to figure out the way out. In a crucial mistake, though, the door you chose was not the exit. It was the door to the bathroom.

You slammed it shut behind you and barricaded yourself in by sticking a broom handle under the doorknob. You hopped into the bathtub and laid quietly, hoping no one saw you come in.

Almost seconds later, loud bangs started raining down on the wood door. The broom couldn’t withstand the blows and broke in two under the pressure. The door swung open and light streamed into the space.

‘Where the hell are you?’ he yelled.

'You sound so angry. Just calm down, you found me,’ you resigned, sitting up.

‘It’s time for you to join me, beautiful,’ he smirked darkly. He turned the bathtub tap on and held you down. You didn’t even struggle. Your fate was sealed, and you were to live out the rest of your days with him, just as the legend said.

And to him, you couldn’t drown fast enough.

+++

I love JPM stories inspired by songs I like. It really fills me with so much joy. I wanted to fit so much into this so sorry if it feels rushed!!

#ahs #evan peters #evan peters fic #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters oneshot #james patrick march #jpm x reader #jpm #james patrick march x you #james patrick march x reader #ahs hotel #Spotify

[kemetic-dreams]

Several African American blues singers and musicians composed songs about the culture of Hoodoo, including W.C. Handy, Bessie Smith, Robert Johnson, Big Lucky Carter, and Al Williams. African American blues performers were influenced by the culture of Hoodoo and wrote songs about mojo bags, love workings, and spirits. Their songs brought awareness of Hoodoo practices to the American mainstream population.

Several blues songs describe love charms or other folk magic. In her "Louisiana Hoodoo Blues" Gertrude Ma Rainey sang about a Hoodoo work to keep a man faithful: ""Take some of you hair, boil it in a pot, Take some of your clothes, tie them in a knot, Put them in a snuff can, bury them under the step…." Bessie Smith's song "Red Mountain Blues" tells of a fortune teller who recommends that a woman get some snakeroot and a High John the Conqueror root, chew them, place them in her boot and pocket to make her man love her. Several other Bessie Smith songs also mention Hoodoo. The song "Got My Mojo Working," written by Preston "Red" Foster in 1956 and popularized by Muddy Waters throughout his career, addresses a woman who is able to resist the power of the singer's Hoodoo amulets.

Hoodoo practitioner Aunt Caroline Dye was born enslaved in Spartanburg, South Carolina and sold to New Port, Arkansas as a child, where she became known for soothsaying and divination with playing cards. She is mentioned by name in the Memphis Jug Band's "Aunt Caroline Dye Blues" (1930) and in Johnny Temple's song "Hoodoo Woman" (1937).

Blues singer Robert Johnson is known for his song about going "down to the crossroads" to sell his soul to the devil to become a better musician. Some authors suggest that the song invokes a Hoodoo belief in crossroads spirits, a belief that originated in Central Africa among the Kongo people. However, the devil figure in Johnson's song, a black man with a cane who haunts crossroads, closely resembles Papa Legba, a spirit associated with Louisiana Voodoo and Haitian Vodou

#blues music #memphis #vodun #voodoo #hoodoo #african #afrakan #kemetic dreams #africans #afrakans #brown skin #afrakan spirituality #african culture #rootwork #ancestor veneration #pagans of tumblr #conjure #witchblr #african music

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Where do I begin ?

Songfic!

Alastor x Fem! Reader

Nav !

Note : For context, Alastor & the reader are the same age. Both born 1900. The last two digits of the year is basically their age.

Warnings: Mentions of Racism, Pinning ( mutual ), swearing, 1920’s - 1930’s, Warning: sexual assault, mentions of killing, cannibalism

tags: @littlebatsimagines

Song by : Shirley Bassey

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Where do I begin

To tell the story of how great a love can be?

The sweet love story that is older than the sea

The simple truth about the love he brings to me

Where do I start?

1913 : 8th Grade Lunch Date

“ He definitely likes you Y/n.” My friend says as we sit at the table eating our lunch. On one side of the field, are tables for the white kids. On the other side, are little spots of cement where the colored kids sit. In the middle, is a lot of grass, where there’s a large tree in the middle. Under said tree, is Alastor, the schools outcast, but one of the smartest kids out there. Alastor stuck out like a sore thumb, poor thing was never dark enough to sit with the colored kids, but the white kids never wanted anything to do with him because he was mixed.

White father, black mother. It was the talk of the town when his momma was pregnant. When he was born, it was all anyone would do. As time went on, he joined the local school, and studied hard. He didn’t have many friends, and everyone always stood away from him. Regardless, he always wore that lovely smile that his teachers praised him for. He was a good kid, just not with the right crowd.

“ I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like he does.” I said, before my friend rolled her eyes, taking her lunch out of her bag.

“ Well even if he doesn’t, best not talk to ‘em again. Y’know your daddy will have you at it if he finds out you been talking to a colored boy.” My friend says, giving me that ‘ don’t do nothing stupid’ look. At that , I stare over at him, watching him eating his lunch. Around him is a small blanket, napkins and forks and knives being used ad he eats his lunch, and I smile to myself as he enjoys his meal.

“ I know I know. I’ll be fine, and he will too. We just don’t need to talk to each other.” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“ Or you could give that fella a chance.” She said, before nodding her head over to one of the nearby tables.

Tommy, or also known as Thomas Vanguard. One of the richest white kids, despite our economy going down in flames.

“ Uh, I don’t really know.” I said, before she laughed.

“ Well too late, he’s already comin’ over.” She said, before my eyes widened. As I turned, I saw Tommy walking over. Oh please no. I was about to get up and walk away when I felt someone sit across from me on the bench. My friend and I turned in our seats to see who was there, it surely wasn’t Tommy.

Silence. The entire courtyard went silent.

Alastor was sitting at my table. Where all the white kids sat. Where colored kids couldn’t sit.

Until now.

“ AHH! Alastor sat at my table!” My lunch mate yelled, grabbing her lunch and running from our table. All the other kids gave the same reaction, running away to our fancy school building. I sat still, staring at him as everyone else ran away.

“ Hello.” I say, extending my hand out to shake. His eyes brightened, before he shook my hand eagerly. “ Momma says not to let people sit alone. “ I say, as I pick up my sandwich to continue eating.

“ Your momma sounds nice.” Alastor says, fixing his glasses. His skin is a caramel color, his brown hair swooped neatly to the sides and out of his face. His cheeks give a light blush, likely from the Louisiana heat.

“ I like to think she is. She can be mean sometimes though.” I say, chewing my food. Alastor smiles, before he continues his food as well. The lunch period goes smoothly from there out.

Even though the day after all the kids stood away from me because I was ‘dirty.’

Like a summer rain

That cools the pavement with a patent leather shine

He came into my life and made the living fine

And gave a meaning to this empty world of mine

He fills my heart

1915 : Highschool Newspaper

News: Black boys 12 and 13 lynched and hung at local park.

It’s all anyone’s talking about. Mainly because their brother’s been raging to the police since the whole thing happened. My best friend Mandy told me. Of course she would know, she’s his girlfriend. But no one knows.

It technically isn’t even allowed. A white girl with a black boy? It’s completely unheard of. But Mandy keeps it strictly secret. They’re never caught with one another, and even add extra arguments in public here and there to add some belief.

But I know it isn’t true. I also know that Alastor is gonna write an entire report down on it, and talk to me like if he’s one of those big fancy radio hosts I heart Tommy talk about during lunch.

“ My Daddy got my momma this cool radio, and it has this guy talking in it. It’s so cool, he sounds like a yankee.” Is usually what Tommy always says, and then he tells everyone what the radio guy says about the North.

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“ Oh M’ so sorry miss.” I hear, as I bump into someone. I stumble back and blink, pulling myself out of my daze.

“ Oh no no it’s alright. I wasn’t really paying all that attention.” I say, bending down to grab my fallen books. The boy in front of me does the same, to help me.

“ Y/n?” I hear a few feet away from me. I turn my head to find my teacher.

“ Are my cheaters cheatin me or am I seeing a colored boy with one of my students?” She asked, clearly confused. I felt my blood race, before my books were shoved into my hands.

“ I was just going to the principals office miss. Please don’t mind me.” The boy said, before my teacher rolled her eyes at him.

“ If you people would’ve been raised better maybe I wouldn’t have a problem with you.” She said before pulling a cigarette out from her pocket and lighting it. The boy lowered his head before quickly squeezing between the two of us to get by.

“ M’ sorry Misses, really was my mistake.” He said quietly as he left. When he was gone, she blew out the smoke from her cigarette.

“ Now you listen to me girl, and you listen good.” She said, pointing at me. “ Stay away from those colored folk. You never gonna be on their level so don’t try to be. Now get to class.” She said.

Oh how my blood boiled.

He fills my heart with very special things

With angel's songs, with wild imaginings

He fills my soul with so much love

That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely

With him along who could be lonely?

I reach for his hand, it's always there

1917 : High school Dance

I don’t know if this is good enough. More importantly, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to get into the dance without my parents finding out. Would they even let me into a colored folk dance? I don’t see why not.

“ Y/n are you ready to go?” Mandy asks me from my window. She’s hanging on for dear life while I scramble to find the lipstick I need. The lipstick he likes the most.

“ Yeah just a minute.” I said, going through my vanity as quietly as possible.

“ Aw, trynna get all dolled up for Al~?” She asked, wiggling her brows. I rolled my eyes and almost jumped out of my skin when I found the lipstick I needed.

“ Okay, let’s go.” I said, before she grinned. Off we were to the dance.

“ We made it!” Mandy said as she hugged her boyfriend, who despite having a rough year, was happy to be with her.

“ Thanks for comin’. Sure they won’t have a problem?” He asked Mandy, before she shook her head.

“ No they won’t. Right Y/n?” She asked, before I shrugged, looking around the courtyard for Alastor. The party for the colored kids had been in a more quiet side of town. But that didnt mean it was easy to find someone.

“ des fleurs pour la fille?” I heard, as flowers were placed in front of me. Red roses. Wrapped in a tight red ribbon, with white fabric holding it together.

“ I didn’t know you knew french.” I said, as my eyes widened, gently taking the flowers from his grasp. I was greeted with a kiss to my temple, and his hand resting on my lower back.

“ Of course. It’s in my mothers nature after all. I hope you do enjoy tonight.” Alastor said, before offering me his arm. I took hold of it and we began to walk to the party.

“ I love the flowers by the way, they’re beautifully wrapped.” I said, before he smiled.

“ Perfect. Saved up just enough." Alastor said with a wink.

" How much was it?" I asked, before Alastor laughed, pushing the door open to the run down barn, which was where the dance would be held.

" Oh don't worry about that dear, we're here to have fun not to worry about expenses." He said, before handing our tickets to a teacher, who eyed the both of us curiously.

" Honey you sure you in the right dance?" The woman asked, taking our tickets. I nodded with a smile, before Alastor led me to the dance floor.

It's two in the morning, and the street lights are dim. All the lights on the street are out, everyone's sleeping. The flowers are still in my hand, shoes in my other as Alastor and I walk down the street to my home, the dance ending after hours of fun.

" Did you enjoy yourself?" Alastor asks, before I nod, smiling wide.

" I've never had that much fun in my life. Thank you for letting me go." I say with a smile as we approach my front steps. I walk up the first few, as Alastor stands on the pavement. I turn, waiting for him to follow.

" Can I...?" He asks, gesturing to the steps. I nod, as he steps up to walk with me to my front door.

" I hate that things are like this." I say as we stop at my front door. Alastor smiles, a sad smile, as he fixes my hair.

" Things will get better. Promise." He said, before bending down to kiss my forehead. " I'll get a real fancy job, we'll get a nice house with a pretty little yard, and we can dance as much as you want." He said, smiling. I knew that smile, that smile that he gave when talking as if he was on the radio, or when he was talking about something good that had happened with his mother at work.

" You sure?" I ask, before he nods.

" Of course. We'll get away from here, far away. New Orleans, just us." He says, before he pulls me in for a hug. " Don't ever doubt it." Alastor says, before I hug him back, ignoring the teardrops that fall on my shoulder.

How long does it last? Can love be measured by the hours in a day? I have no answers now, but this much I can say I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away And he'll be there

1919: The first bite

Twelve stations. Twelve stations that said no to him. All giving the same answer.

" You think people gonna wanna hear a colored boy on the radio? You best be trynna trick me if you think for a second you comin' in here." Was what they would say, and every time Alastor would come home with that smile on his face, despite the break in his heart.

" Any luck?" I ask, as his mother sets his food on the table, which I hand him his glass of wine.

" No, not today." He says, before he cuts a piece of his steak. His mother and I share a look, pity of course, but she's also hurt.

" Baby those people don't know who they just said no too. You're a man full of talent." His mother says, reaching over to fix his hair. " Now you just keep trying, someone outta give you something." She said, before he just nodded, his smile faltering for a moment before he sighed.

" Thank you for the food.” He said, as he took his napkin and put it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt.

“ Of course honey.” His mother said, before she stood up. “ Oh I almost forgot.” She said, before walking out of the kitchen. I began to eat the food she made, while Alastor stared at the door in confusion.

“ How was work today dear?” Alastor asks, his usually smile appearing again. I smiled to him and took a sip of the wine.

“ It was alright, some people weren’t exactly happy with their food choices.” I said, as Alastor nodded.

“ I found it!” Alastor’s mother says as she comes back into the dining room. She smiles as she sets down a small box in front of Alastor.

“ You might wanna open it.” She said to Alastor, who stared at the box with a confused smile. He lifted the lid to the small box, before his eyes widened.

“ What’s this?” He asked, before she smiled and took her seat.

“ It was your grandmothers. I found it this morning.” She said, before he smiled. Alastor looked up at me, before turning the box to face me. Inside was a ring, a gold ring with a ruby in the middle, surrounded by little diamonds.

“ She took it from a family she was working for. Her contract was up but they hadn’t given her half of what they promised. So she took that as compensation. She really meant to sell it but she liked it so much she kept it.” His mother explained, before Alastor turned the box so he could look at it again. “ Well? What do you think?” His mother asks, before he turns to look at her. The two exchange a look I can’t quite place, but he shuts the box and puts it in his mothers hand.

“ It’s beautiful.” He said, before smiling to her, and then looking at me with a smile.

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“ Y/n, someone’s here to see you.” Mandy called to me, before I took my apron off. Working at the towns diner was not an easy job. But I was finally on my break.

“ Comin’” I said, before I pushed the door that led from the kitchen to the restaurant, walking around tables and people. “ Someone needed me?” I asked, as I approached the front desk, before Mandy pointed to the door. I turned around to see Alastor, standing there with a bouquet of flowers.

“ Oh, Alastor these are beautiful.” I say, walking over to him as he smiled. When I do reach him, he bends down to give me a kiss, before handing me the flowers. There are all sorts of flowers in the bouqet, some Asters, Carnations, Roses of course, Camellia’s, a few Calla Lily’s.

“ I'm taking you out for lunch.” He said, tapping the edge of my nose. Quickly, he helped me put my jacket on, and off we were to have a lovely lunch together, where I later found out, he had finally gotten a shot to have his own radio studio.

1922: Consequences

It all happened so fast. There was nothing I could do to stop him, to stop it from happening. One moment I had been in the bathroom at work and the next I'm on the floor in tears trying to get Tommy off me. Yet nothing worked.

" Mandy I don't feel so good. I'm going home." I say, grabbing as Tommy grins at me from his table with his friends. Mandy looks at me concerned before she just nods silently.

" Feel better Y/n." Mandy says, but it's too late. I'm already pushing the glass doors and out I am onto the sidewalk of the busy street walking myself home as quickly as possible. My legs are shaky, and I can barely breathe as I open my front door, and shut it behind me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he'd done to me. I kick my heels off, sobbing as I throw my jacket to the ground, letting my hair down and making my way towards my bedroom.

How dare he? How dare he do this to me? Why couldn't I stop him? Why didn't I do something? Why didn't I say something? I should've fought back harder, done something, been stronger. I turn and shut the door to my bedroom, before finding a corner near my window to curl up in, hugging my knees to my chest as I feel myself collapse on the ground, the only thing I can think of being Tommy's words.

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( Events before leaving )

" If you were with me, you wouldn't need to work in this shitty diner." Tommy said, before I hear a click. I look up, staring at Tommy in the mirror.

" I actually like working here thank you very much." I say, before I move to dry my hands with a towel from my apron. Quickly, his hand grabs my shoulder to turn me around, before his hand is cupping the bottom of my chin, squeezing the sides of my face. He's angry.

" Don't give me an attitude bitch. Word's been flying 'round you been with that mixed guy. How's he treatin' ya' huh? Bet he beats you,-" Tommy said, before shoving my face to the side so hard I fall to the ground, putting my hands out to support me. No lunch, my wrist breaks. I cry out in pain, before Tommy grabs my hair to pull be up just enough to see my face.

" What? Not used to it? Those colored folk's aint got nothing better to do than beat their women. You ain't nothing special." He said, before he slapped me. I pushed myself up with my other arm, trying to hit him back, before his knee came in contact with my stomach, airing me out. " Now you just sit there and look pretty while I show you how a real man feels. Maybe then you'll get your senses straight, 'stead of bein' dirty." And then it happened. Bottoms torn off my legs, no matter how hard I kicked or tried to hit him, nothing. I couldn't do a damn thing. All while he had his way with me. Stupid son of a bitch.

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( author's POV )

Alastor opens the front door, sighing as he takes a step into his home, finally done with the day he had at work. It only when he steps on Y/n's jacket, that he realizes something is wrong. He takes a moment to stop, staying quiet. He hears something, and when he finally realizes what it is.

He. Is. Livid.

Alastor sets his belongings down on a nearby table, before he makes his way upstairs, as calm as he can possibly be. The closer he gets, the louder Y/n's sobs are.

" Darling? Are you alright?" Alastor asks, approaching their bedroom door. No response. But the sobs don't stop. He frowns, his body beginning to shake, his nerves getting the best of him. " I'm going to open the door." Alastor says, waiting a moment for a response, before he turns the handle to the door. He looks around for a moment, before he spots her sitting near the window, on the floor in the corner. She's holding the curtain in her hand, her face stuffed into it as she sobs. Alastor begins slow, walking towards her, studying her frame. It's only when he notices the harsh color of her wrist that alarms begin to go off in his mind. He kneels down, now in front of Y/n, before he speaks again.

" Y/n?" He asks. No response, just sobs. " Dear what happened?" He asks. At that, Y/n lifts her head to stare at him. It's then Alastor realizes that whatever did happen, was very serious. Alastor doesn't speak as his hands reach for Y/n's arms, slowly pulling her as he stands, before he brings her in for a hug. " Whenever your ready, I'm here to listen." Alastor said, before he felt Y/n's hand hold onto his side.

" It was e-earlier." Y/n said between breaths, obviously struggling to speak. Alastor pulled back and stared down at her, before he saw how red her neck was. Not just red though, there were hickie's. All over her neck, and a large hand print in the middle. Like if she was being choked. The sides of her face were bruised, harsh black and blues appearing on her skin. As Alastor continued to take her state in, he saw bruises on her arms as well.

" Who did this to you?" He asked, stern. She stared, unsure of what to say. There was this look on his face she couldn't describe. His aura grew darker the longer she took to answer, as Alastor began to trace over the marks on her skin with his fingertips lightly. It had taken her a second to register what he was doing.

He was securing it. Like reassuring himself they were real, that this, what was happening, was real.

" Y/n, Dear, who did this to you?" He asked again, losing his patience. His mind was running through all sorts of things, his mind focused on the amount of rage he felt.

" ... Tommy."

That was it. Y/n stood, unsure of what to do as she watched Alastor frame shake, like a shiver. As if he was cold. He wasn't. His skin was burning hot, and as he pulled Y/n into a hug she could feel the anger seeping off of him as she cried into his chest.

" Alastor I'm so so so sorry. I tried to stop him, I really did." She said, before she pulled away from him as Alastor looked down at her, shaking his head.

" Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. He is disgusting, and you are beautiful. He wanted to ruin you, and you didn't let him." Alastor said, wiping away the tears that continued to fall from her eyes. " How did this happen?" He asks, his tone softer now as he pulled Y/n to sit on the bed as he walked towards their bathroom. Her wrist was swollen, Alastor had pretty much guessed it was either sprained or broken. Either way, Tommy was definitely going to be his next victim.

" Your arm dear." Alastor said, as he sat back down next to Y/n, an ice pack in one hand while wrapping her wrist with the other. " Now, tell me how it started." Alastor said, before Y/n took a deep breath before she began explaining.

" I had went to the restroom at work, some customer had spilled water on me, it was an accident though. I was washing my hands, and when I looked up in the mirror I saw Tommy there. He locked the door to the bathroom and started talking. He said something about me being with him and if I was I wouldn't have to work in that diner." Y/n said, before Alastor let out a 'mhm', signaling her to continue.

" I told him I actually liked working there, and he grabbed my face and told me not to disrespect him. He called me a bitch." Y/n said, before Alastor looked at her, stopping his motions.

".. continue." He said, before moving to press the ice pack to her wrist.

" T-then, he said that word had been goin' 'round that I was with a, as he put it, 'mixed guy', and then asked how that was going for me. Then he said he bets you beat me, and then he pushed me to the floor. That's how I hurt my wrist." She explained, before Alastor nodded at her to continue, moving to check for any cuts he might need to treat on her. " After he did that he was all like, 'What? Not used to it?' and then he said colored folks don't have anything better to do than beat their women. Then he said I wasn't anything special, and he told me to sit there and just look pretty while he showed me what a feels like. He said maybe then I would get my senses straight and stop being dirty..." Y/n said, leaving out the portion of him airing her out, to not get Alastor upset.

Alastor was silent for a moment. His mind mulling over the information he had just been given. Y/n had assumed he'd been calm enough to receive the extra information.

" While I was on the ground, he also hit me, with his knee... in my stomach..." Y/n said, nervous of Alastor's reaction. He didn't say much. He was quiet.

" I'll have a talk with him tomorrow. Take the rest of this week off, I want you here, and if you go out I want you with someone so you aren't alone. You need medical help right now, I'll talk to my mother since she isn't far." Alastor said, as he stood up, quickly putting things away.

" W-wait, can't we talk about this first? I don't want him to get in trouble he might try to hurt you-"

" Y/n, I don't give a damn about what he wants to do to me! It's the fact he's gotten to you, he's hurt you, and I wasn't there to stop him. No one was!" Alastor said, stopping in front of the bed. He was upset, so much so that a tear fell from his eye, before he wiped it away. Y/n stood from the bed, but never moved to Alastor.

" I can heal from this, we can move on. I just don't want this to be a big thing." Y/n said, before Alastor stood quiet.

" It won't be. Just, let me deal with it. Stay here, relax." Alastor said walking over to Y/n to run his hands down the sides of her arms. " I promise I won't make this a big ordeal. My mother should be by shortly after I speak wit her. Until then, get yourself comfortable, be careful with your write, and wait for me to get back, alright?" Alastor asked, before Y/n nodded.

" Alright. I love you." Y/n said, looking up at Alastor, waiting for him to say it back.

" I love you too darling."

1923: Fresh Start in the French Quarter

Tommy had opened his big mouth to the entire town about Alastor and Y/n's relationship. The entire town had shunned the both of them for it, Y/n's parents officially cutting her off for good, their suspicions being correct. After that christmas, Alastor and Y/n had began to take trips to New Orleans regularly, looking for a house to by. Alastor had gotten a better job, with much higher pay. Alastor had let Y/n choose whatever house she wanted, and when she finally settled on one, he also made sure to higher movers, and of course there's the paint job and furniture.

Though the cost was something Alastor would never allow her to see, the house made her happy, and that was more than enough for him. As he had told her, " Whatever my love wants, my love gets."

The neighborhood was nice, a lot of land was also nice too, aside from the grass growing extremely fast, but the man who would mow the lawn every week was nice so there was a plus. Y/n didn't need to work anymore, since Alastor made enough for the both of them to live comfortably. The lifestyle the two had changed over too had went from simple and comfortable, just barely making it by, to lavish and extravagant.

Since moving to New Orleans people had been kinder to the two of you. As well as the two of you getting married. It was a small wedding, consisting of Alastor's mother, Mandy and her husband Clarence. A few coworkers, Alastor's uncle who was just happy to be there. The people from his mother's church who had a great time at the afterparty.

Alastor never did tell you what he did to Tommy, but that was alright. He wasn't your problem anymore.

He fills my heart with very special things With angels' songs, with wild imaginings He fills my soul with so much love That anywhere I go, I'm never lonely With him along, who could be lonely? I reach for his hand, it's always there

1925: the first letter

(Y/n's POV )

" Honey could you get the mail for me? Hand's are all covered in dirt." Alastor said, before I nodded. I had walked to the front of the lawn to open our mailbox, pulling the papers out.

"Hm. Bills, bills, more bills, bills, and, a letter?" I stop. It's addressed to me. But the address is unfamiliar. I take the mail inside and walk to the dining room to open the letter. Alastor is in the mud room, removing the gardening equipment and dirt. I open the letter, before taking the pages out from inside. There's three pages, but all are covered in black ink. Except for the second page, with the words in the middle of the page reading.

Your Husband murdered the love of my life.

Silence. I don't know who this person is. I don't know where this letter is from. I don't know who this letter is from. They must have the wrong house. My husband would never kill anyone. As upset as he gets, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

" I think we can start on dinner now." Alastor said, as I slipped the letter back into the envelope.

" What do you wanna make tonight?" I ask as we both walk into the kitchen. Alastor moves to the freezer to grab out meat while I go through our cabinets to see what we have.

" Hm, what about Chili? Never hurt anyone, haven't had any in a while." He said, before I sighed.

" Chili is the worst thing to make though." I whine, before Alastor chuckles and sets the mean down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

" Why don't we go out then? I get my chili, you don't need to help make it. How does that sound?" Alastor asks, before I smile.

" We can go see the band right?" I ask, before Alastor nods.

" If that's what you wanna do." He said with a grin, before I smiled and kissed his cheek.

" Get your dancin' shoes. Date night!" I say as I practically sprint out of the kitchen as Alastor laughs from his place in the kitchen.

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2 weeks later : Letter two

This letter is different. The first two pages are covered in black ink, the third page being the only one that has writing. It reads.

" I know you got my last letter. Your husband is a killer. Don't deny the truth." Right in the center of the page. My hands shake as I read it, before I shut the front door, locking it tight. I begin to walk around our house, the house we bought together. The house that we danced in together, cooked together, had gatherings together. Everything.

I came across his study, where I never really entered much, since I allowed it to be just him, his personal space. Like my own study, which was really more like a library since we had shared books in there. I opened the door, but never stepped in, curious as to what he would have hidden away. The door opens fully to reveal a minimalistic room. There are papers on his desk, a desk lamp, newspapers on the side, file cabinets, a radio, a journal. Wait, a journal? I never knew he had a journal.

I step into the room, making my way over to his desk, and reaching for the journal. I flip through the pages, skimming over the words, before something catches my eye.

Tommys name.

I continue to read, reading the journal and the pages that follow up until the very latest entry. I learn all sorts of things after reading this journal, and when I place it back down on the desk I want to run out of his study. But I don't. I put it down, exactly where I found it, and exit the room. Shutting the door tightly, and leaving the house all together. Just to walk. To clear my mind. After reading his journal I learn a number of things.

First, that Tommy is dead. Alastor killed him after Tommy assaulted me at work, and took the liberty of dismembering him and even cooking some of his intestines. Second, the meat that is stored in our freezer, the meat I've been eating for years, is from actual people. Their dead, cut up bodies are the things I've been preparing every night like it's the best thanksgiving turkey anyone's ever gonna eat. Third, his mother has been getting a good portion of his check every month. There isn't a problem with that, she's a lovely woman.

But, it was the most recent entry that made my spine tingle the most.

Alastor and I had never been intimate with one another. We both had our reasons, I had been saving it till marriage, but after Tommy I hadn't been comfortable with anyone ever potentially seeing me like that again, and Alastor had never tried so it just mutually never happened. There wasn’t an easy way to put it really, in some pages of the journal he had stated he wanted to show me how to kill, to take me with him for these murders. That it would get him, excited, to think about.

I guess this is the part where I call the cops. Tell them my husband is a cruel heartless killer, that he stores remains of these dead bodies in our freezer for us to eat.

But I won’t. I can’t. Because despite knowing all this. I still love him.

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That night: Dinner

( Author’s POV )

“ Dinner is served.” Y/n says, placing Alastor’s plate of food in front of him. He smiles as she leans down to kiss him on the cheek, fixing his handkerchief around his neck. She moves to her seat, across from him, and situates herself. Immediately, he begins to dig in, cutting away at the meat with a bloodlust look in his eye she had never noticed up until now.

“ I hope you enjoy it. Took a long time to season it properly.” Y/n said, as she began to eat as well, never once touching the meat on her plate.

“ Really? Did we not have enough spices? I can run out tomorrow and get some more if you need some.” Alastor said, before taking another bite out of his food.

“ No, we had enough spices. I just wanted to season it enough so I’m not distracted by the fact it’s from a human.” Y/n says, before putting a spoonful of food in her mouth. Alastor stops, frozen as if she was crazy. He’s silent, they both are. Alastor sits there tense, expecting police officers to round the corner of his home, he thinks this is it for him.

“ What are you talking about?” Alastor asks, before Y/n looks up at him from her seat.

“ I found your journal.” Y/n says.

“ You went into my study?” Alastor asks, trying hard to mask the annoyance in his voice. He fails.

“ Yes. I’ll tell you why.” Y/n says, before she pulls out two envelopes from behind her, tossing it towards Alastor as it slides across the table to him. He stares at them curiously, before he reaches forward to open it.

“ When did you get these?” Alastor said, losing his usual smile.

“ I got the first letter maybe, two weeks ago.” Y/n says, before Alastor’s eyes flicker to her’s for a second, before back down to the letters. “ I got the second one today. I’m sure there’s going to be a third.” Y/n says, not failing to notice Alastor’s grip on his knife tighten.

“ Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asks, sternly.

“ I didn’t believe them. There was no reason to tell you if I didn’t believe it.” Y/n said, standing from her seat.

“ Y/n, did you… tell anyone?” Alastor asks, his eyes pleading with her. As if he was sorry. She knew he wasn’t.

“ Don’t look at me like that .” Y/n said, the pain in her voice obvious.

“ Did you?” He asks.

“ No. I didn’t.”

Silence. Neither one of them say a thing. Alastor stands from his seat, putting his knife down.

“ Do you hate me?” Alastor asks, refusing to look at her now. No response.

Y/n isn’t sure what to do. She’d figured he’d kill her by now.

“ Do you still love me?” Alastor asked, and the crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n hadn’t even realized she had started crying, and he was too. No response.

Alastor didn’t say anything after that. He left the letters on the table, before he exited the dining room. Y/n sighed, letting the tears fall. Y/n also exited the dining room, not sure where he could have gone. The house was huge, big enough to get lost in. Room by room, Y/n checked for him, now desperately trying to fix her mistake.

When Y/n made it to their bedroom, she found money sitting on their bed, all of his belongings gone. Was he leaving? Now the panic had set in.

“ Alastor!” Y/n called, running through the halls, checking for him where ever she could. practically jumping down the stairs when she saw him at the front door.

“ Alastor where are you going?” Y/n asked, panting wildly. Alastor didn’t answer. “ Alastor please.” Y/n said, before Alastor took his coat off it’s hanger.

“Y/n please, stop.” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses moving upwards slightly.

“ No. Don’t you dare tell me to stop.” Y/n said, before she began to walk down the stairs.

“ Yes dear.” Alastor said, allowing her to continue, because he knew she would.

“ I don’t want your money.” She said, putting it on one of his suitcases. “ I don’t care about that. For Christ’s sake I don’t care about our house, or our cars or anything!” Y/n said, crying again. Alastor frowned.

“ Then what do you care about?” Alastor asked.

“ You! I care about you Alastor! Not the stupid front you put up, no, I care about you! Even if you are a killer, so be it I don’t care!” Y/n said, before she moved closer to him before reaching into his pocket. She was right, there it was. The knife he wrote about. The one he always had with him. She also knew he had one strapped to him under his shirt, on his arm. “ If you think I don’t care then shut me up.” Y/n said, putting the knife between the two of them.

“ Are you asking me to kill you?” Alastor asked, confused.

“ No. I’m telling you if you don’t like what I’m saying, or don’t think it’s real. Shut. Me. Up.” She said, putting the knife to his chest.

“ I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” Alastor said, head hanging low.

“ I do. I do love you.” Y/n said, as the knife fell to the ground. Y/n hugged him, and he hugged her back with just as much force, if not more, than she did. “ I will always love you.” Y/n said, gently running her fingers down his back.

“ You wont tell anyone right?” Alastor asked, before Y/n shook her head.

“ No, not ever. I promise.” Y/n said. “ Thank you.” She told him.

“ For what?” Alastor asked, mind going blank for a moment.

“ Getting rid of Tommy.” She said.

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1932: ‘Till death do we part

She knew she could’ve told the police. She knew she should’ve. But she didn’t have the heart to tell.

Even as she watched every night, accompanied Alastor on his hunts, as he liked to call it, she still loved him.

Even when they were both all bloody, screams of a victim trying to get away, you could still feel the love between them. As odd as it may sound.

But neither one of them cared. Even when Alastor had gotten caught, when he died, she still loved him even in death. Everyone had assumed she’d taken her own life because she was devastes over him being a killer.

Oh no. They couldn’t be more wrong.

She died because she couldn’t live without him. Even in their final moments together, the only thing either cared about, was each other.

━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━═━

1935: Caught

Despite them both being dead, it was only in 1935 that Y/n had finally been caught as his accomplice. Police had went through their entire house, searching through their personal items, bibles, food. Asking the help of their co-workers, house keepers, friends, family. Anyone, if they had any suspicions.

Now, they’re graves lay near one another, flowers being brought every few weeks by only Alastor’s mother, who still loved them both dearly.

“ I always knew he was a troubled child I just, thought it was because of the kids at school, and the stress of the finances.” Alastor’s mother told the police.

“ What about Y/n?” The officer asked, before his mother shook her head.

“ Oh no. She was always such a sweet girl. I never would’ve thought she would do something like that. I always knew she loved my son, but I never thought they would do that.” His mother confessed.

“ Do you have an idea as to why Alastor took the fall for the whole thing? I mean, he could’ve easily put it on Y/n when he found out the we would be searching for him.” The officer said before Alastor’s mother sighed.

“ Well, my son was in love with her, goodness. That boy would go on and on for hours about her if he could. He probably didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.” His mother said.

“ Do you think if he would have had too, he would’ve sacrificed himself for her?” The officer asked.

“ Oh yes. Of course. He would do anything he needed too to keep her safe. Why do you think he killed Tommy? He beat Y/n.” Alastor’s mother said, before the officer went silent.

“ So your saying, Alastor killed for her?” The officer asked.

“ Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly why. But I could assume so. She knew all the victims, and he’d tell me how much she’d dislike them. He was clearly trying to make her happy.” His mother said. The officer nodded, writing everything down. Now it all made sense.

How long does it last?

Can love be measured by the hours in a day?

I have no answers now, but this much I can say

I'm going to need him 'til the stars all burn away

And he'll be there

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #helluvaxhazbin #helluva octavia #helluva boss x reader #helluva stolas #hazbin hotel helluva boss #helluva millie #helluva boss #1920svintage #1920s au #serial killer #yandere #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere helluva boss #alastor the radio demon

[cruelmiracles]

we liked the priest because once we saw him buy an icecream cone we were 9 years old then and when I went to my best friend's house his mother was usually drinking with his father they left the screen door open and listened to music on the radio is mother sometimes had her dress pulled high and her legs excitedme made me nervous and afraid but excited somehow by those black polished shoes and those nylons— even though she had buck teeth and a very plain face.

when we were ten his father shot and killed himself with a bullet through the head but my best friend and his mother went on living in that house and I used to see his mother going up the hill to the market with her shopping bag and I'd walk along beside her quite conscious of her legs and her hips and her behind the way they all moved together and she always spoke nicely to me and her son and I went to church and confession together and the priest lived in a cottage behind the church and a fat kind lade was always there with him when we went to visit and everything seemed warm and comfortable then in 1930 because I didn't know that there was a worldwide depression and that madness and sorrow and fear were almost everywhere.

Charles Bukowski ǁ “legs, hips and behind.” what matters most is how well you walk through the fire (1999)

#charles bukowski #legs hips and behind #what matters most is how well you walk through the fire #bookshelf #quotes #poem #fav

[racefortheironthrone]

As a Social Democrat, what would you say has been its historical tendencies towards colonialism and upliftment of developing nations? Why is that Communism, despite some acknowledged failures (Afghanistan, Tibet, Xinjiang), is seen as more anti-colonialist by comparison?

That's a really interesting question. Honestly, when it comes to social democracy's record on de-colonization, it's something of a mixed bag. One of Eduard Bernstein's major flaws, his feet of clay, is that he was pro-imperialism - although to be fair, the SPD as a whole was pretty consistently anti-colonialist between the 1890s and 1914. On the other hand, the British Labour Party did very little about empire and was arguably pro-empire up until 1945. Clement Attlee, however, had a personal interest in decolonization and was a committed supporter of Indian self-governance since the 1930s, and negotiated the independence of India, Pakistan, Myanmar, and Sri Lanka. On the other hand, Attlee wasn't entirely consistent on this point - he rather mis-handled the British Mandate in Palestine, African colonies were bypassed for de-colonization, and the Attlee government began the counter-insurgency in Malaysia. So something of a mixed bag, as I said.

Attlee's policies did have a long-term effect on the Labour Party - it opposed British involvement in the Suez Crisis on a united basis despite its divisions on other issues, for example. Likewise, the Harold Wilson government was characterized by broad sympathies to the cause of decolonization but a relatively weak commitment to accepting much risk. For example, Wilson refused to send British ground troops to Vietnam but did provide intelligence and jungle warfare training and wouldn't publicly denounce the war.

He did remove British troops from Singapore, Malaysia, and the Persian Gulf and supported de-colonization in Africa, but he rather screwed up in Rhodesia where after insisting on black suffrage in return for Rhodesian independence, he refused to send the British military to "fight our kith and kin" when Ian Smith unilaterally declared independence for his apartheid state, delaying liberation for many years.

By contrast, the Soviet Union and China could more straightforwardly support anti-colonial insurgencies (that often blended nationalist and communist ideologies) in no small part because the Bolsheviks had been anti-WWI and anti-imperialism pretty consistently thanks to Lenin's influence.

And if you were an anti-colonial insurgency, would you prefer the folks who might give you a thumbs up or the folks who would give you weapons?

#history #social democracy #decolonization

[gayferret420]

FUCK IT, CHASE NECROMANCER AU BAYYYBBEEEEEEE

Originally Chase found out about the whole necromancy thing from Moana when Tabatha died for the umpteenth time

Moana taught him how to do it incase something bad happened to Tabatha when she was gone

He started testing it out on small things like toads and lizards and plants

It went well, so he started trying it on bigger things, like dogs, birds and other animals

He got really good at it and desperately wanted to try doing it on a human, but unfortunately getting your hands on a dead body is more difficult than you would think

But with some illegal methods and a few cops getting black eyes, he revived someone! Yippe!

And he DID do it well. Not as well as he does it now, but for his first time? He did amazingly!

Moana did have to fix the person up a little bit, but over all Chase did great!

And after that he started doing it more often, and eventually he got amazing at it.

Like your great great great great grandma who died in the 1930’s? He could bring her back as long as you have the body (which at that point has probably decomposed but yk it’s the thought that counts)

That bag in the fridge that’s labeled Dead Dove: do not eat? Make that Alive Dove: still do not eat

And when he moves to Amber Beach, he starts a business off of that!

He feels bad for charging people for it but have you seen how expensive rent is? And he doesn’t charge as much he probably should for such a service, the highest he’ll go is $3000 dollars, and if its a little kid or pet than he’ll do it for free

And of course, like all things that you desperately want to keep a secret from your friends, they find out

One day, when Chase wasn't there, Shelby burst into the base and slammed a paper down on the table, and told Tyler and Riley about this ad for a necromancy service, and they decided that they would investigate it

So they went to the cemetery (morphed to add intimidation factor) and saw a man digging up a grave

welp that's probably the guy

Shelby walked up to the man and tapped him on the shoulder

“Now what do you think you’re doing, Sir?”

The man replied, “Fuck off Shelby, I’m busy.”

“Chase? W-What the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh you know, just my job. Say, you wanna watch me revive this guy?”

“Wait, what? You can actually bring people back to life?”

“Well yeah, I wouldn’t offer the service if I couldn’t do it.”

“Uhm…sure then. Tyler and Riley are here too if you don’t mind them watching.”

“The more the merrier! Plus, now I get to show Riley magic.”

(chase and riley are dating btw. i didn’t know how to put that in sooner lmao)

After a bunch of revival bullshit and dealing with a very violent teenage girl everyone except Chase is pretty shaken up by the whole thing

And the fact that Chase is treating this so casually is not helping

Riley especially, because what do you even do with this information? Suddenly the dead can come back to life as if nothing happened and you just have to deal with that

And on top of all that you learn that your boyfriend has been doing this for months and hasn’t told anyone.

Riley was more concerned than angry since this wasn’t the most legal business and Chase could probably get in a lot of trouble for it

And also you know. Digging up corpses and seeing horribly mangled bodies every day probably isn’t good for the psyche

Plus not being afraid of death could possibly lead to some dangerous decisions (which it has and will)

So overall Riley is cautiously supportive while also wondering about the morals of bringing back the dead

Tyler is freaking out about it but in a “This is SO COOL DUDE!” way

And Shelby is also freaking out about it in the way you expect for someone to freak out about it

But in the end everyone is kinda on board with it at least a little bit

And they decide not to tell the other rangers because they don’t want Ivan to burn Chase at the steak because of witchcraft

And this is probably a bit much for Koda

And they don’t feel like dealing with Kendall

And there is more but this post is long as fuck so I might make another one about it

also if you want me to scream about this and other AU’s and just chiley in general to you directly feel free to dm me I need more friends

#necromancer #power rangers #power rangers dino charge #chase randall #do i tag this as #chiley #cuz there is chiley in it #but it’s not major #sorry that this is so long #but also i’m not sorry #necromancy au #I’m so wacky #this is insane #but it’s mine #sorry if this is incoherent #I got like 3 hours of sleep last night #jsnhsbshui

[ceceliaahathaway]

@drrutherford Event: A Murder Mystery Party (with a special guest star: Cecelia's blackmailer) Dated: 20th of April, 2024 Location: The Van Duyn Estate (mutual friends)

You are cordially invited... The words danced elegantly across the cream-coloured card held delicately between Cece's fingers as she arrived at the imposing gates of the Van Duyn estate. The air was thick with anticipation, and a subtle breeze rustled the leaves of the towering oak trees that lined the winding driveway.

Cece took a moment to admire the grandeur of her surroundings before tucking the invitation and character card into her evening bag. Tonight, she would step into the shoes of Renee Holliday, once a dazzling star of the vaudeville stage and now a renowned American film actress. The role seemed like a perfect fit for her natural charm and theatrical flair. And she had researched it throughly.

Renee was precisely how Cece envisioned herself in the 1930s - successful, an artist, and married to a promising director. But why was she currently in London? She found herself there shooting a film, directed and written by her new husband. Of course, her marital ties weren't the reason why she'd secured the role. Renee had earned the gig due to her ability to steal a scene and perform a handstand on a moving elephant.

She was a star. So, naturally, both she and her husband had been extended invitations to one of London's most renowned annual parties. Speaking of her husband, she'd yet to meet the man who'd play her consort tonight. Would it be too much to ask that he wore black tie and knew how to make a good Marsala Martini? Cece had her fingers and toes crossed.

The doors swung open to reveal a scene straight out of a Hollywood film set. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the opulent foyer, while the sound of laughter and lively conversation filled the air. Cece's heart fluttered with excitement as she stepped into the midst of the glamorous crowd, her eyes scanning the room for familiar faces. "Ah, Miss--" She raised an eyebrow, lifting her newly blinged out ring finger, "Ah Mrs Holiday, so glad you managed to find us. May I take your coat."

"You may." She was greeted with smiles and nods of recognition as she mingled with the other guests, each one a character in their own right. The atmosphere crackled with intrigue and excitement, and Cece couldn't shake the feeling that tonight would be one to remember.

"Oh, Mrs Holiday, I'm sure I don't have to introduce you to your husband." With a laugh already escaping her lips, she turned around eagerly, prepared to meet the man with whom she'd have the pleasure of solving a murder tonight. Oh, undoubtedly, she was determined to win, she wouldn't have dragged herself away from Happy and her pint of Ben and Jerry's otherwise. "I don't—" She stopped mid-sentence, her laughter fading as her eyes met his. It seemed almost too good to be true. Gideon Rutherford, dressed in a suit... for the second time... in less than thirty days. "Now, now, sweetheart, my glass is empty. You know I'd only trust you to get my Marsala just right."

Just then, as the lights flickered and a scream pierced the air, Cece instinctively grabbed Gideon's hand, squeezing it tightly—pure theatrics, of course. When the lights came back on, a collective gasp followed by another scream echoed through the room. There, in a heap on the floor, lay Mrs. Van Duyn, lifeless. Cece's knees wobbled, and she leaned against Gideon's chest, feigning a half-faint. "Oh, darling… How dreadful…" She managed to compose herself, knowing she had to. With the news that the police couldn't be reached due to the power outage and that this murder wouldn't be the last, it was up to them, the guests, to seek justice for Mrs. Van Duyn. Locking eyes with Gideon, Cece took charge as the room began to clear. "Darling shall we investigate the library for clues?"

#i know this is in poor taste considering an 'actual' murder just took place #but in all fairness cece doesn't really care much for them #she also needs some idk distraction she's in the denial stage #hi ho #communicating via story #with gideon rutherford

[susoriginals]

Vintage 1930s Ladies Black Silk Velvet Purse with Gold Chain Glove Handkerchief Clip & Matching Coin Purse by Koret Only $25

#vintage black velvet purse #black suede purse #1930s purse #1930s black purse #1930s black bag #vintage black bag #black bag #1930s bag #1930s accessories #1930s handbag #vintage coin purse #1930s purse and matching coin purse #etsy #bag #vintage purses #vintage

[zegalba]

my vintage 1930’s black chain mail clutch

#zegalba #mine #chain mail #black #clutch #bag #vintage #1930s #edc #stuff #layout 2

[wildbeautifuldamned]

Vintage Flapper Seed Bead Purse with Drawstring, Butterfly and Floral Pattern ebay lookdeals4unow

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Beaded Purse Vintage ebay cand4055

#beaded purse #purse #butterfly #insect #house

[autismmydearwatson]

My plans for a Romeo and Juliet adaptation by me<3

The two families are crime families of the Italian mafia

It's the 1930s

They still talk in Shakespearean. Baz Luhrman that shit

The cause of the "ancient grudge" is heavily alluded to by older characters but never explained like Avengers Budapest

There's a scene after the banquet and before the balcony in which the lovers even ask peers and adults about the cause

But they all tell different versions

"They got divorced" -Mercutio

"The Montagues met our offer of alliance by stealing our money" -Nurse

"The Capulets spit in Don Montagues tea" -Benvolio

Instead of lecturing Romeo about Queen Mab, Mercutio goes on a tangent about Goncharov

Mercutio is crushing on Romeo

Tybalt is secretly a furry and only Juliet knows (guess what his fursona is. Guess)

"Do you fucking bite your thumb at us, bitch?"

When Romeo enters he's listening to West Side Story, eyeliner running down his face

Rosaline is a 30 year old woman who pities the 16 year old with a hopeless crush on her

Benvolio and Mercutio are Romeos bodyguards

Romeo is a femme tboy

Juliet is trans too

They're both pre-T and not out to their families yet.

This leads to Nurse telling Juliet Romeos deadname and not his chosen name, and vice versa with Nurse introducing Juliet to Romeo by her deadname. So for much of act 1 they don't know each other's real names

Which leads to Juliet: "wherefore art thou (deadname)? Deny thy father and refuse thy name" "tis but thy name that is my enemy". Romeo, hidden: "oh boy have I got news for her!"

Much of the balcony scene is them telling each other their chosen names, feeling seen for the first time by another

Only Tybalt knows about Juliets transition

Mercutio, Benvolio, and Romeos excursion into the party is actually Benvolios bright ide a to scam the Capulets out of their money

Until Romeo sees a pretty girl and almost blows the entire plan

In Mercutios speeches to Romeo ("be rough with love" "now art thou social" etc) he is applying Romeos lip gloss for him.

Bear with me

Everyone in the cast is dressed in dark tones in black except for the two leads in deep scarlet.

As Mercutio lays dying, he delivers the line "A plague on both your houses" as he smears his own blood on Romeos lips with his hand. As if applying lip gloss.

The friar and the prince are played by the same actor.

The "gallop apace" soliloquy is spoken alternately by both Romeo and Juliet

It is Benvolio who gives Romeo the poison

Romeo does NOT lay Paris in Juliets tomb as he requests.

After Romeo takes the poison and dies, an entire musical refrain plays, at the end of which Juliet finally awakens, and the music abruptly stops. Leaving the stage entirely silent as she screams in despair.

The families, ashamed by the tragedy, bury the lovers in modest graves. The play ends with Benvolio, alone, to deliver the final speech with two bags of money in his hand that he burns over their graves

#do you see my vision #romeo and juliet #Shakespeare #jaspers prattling

[mizmak]

Home Decor the Good Omens Way, Part 1

I can always tell whether I'm going to like someone by the comments they make when they see my home for the first time. Being obsessive over both Good Omens and home decorating, I have added stuff over the past few years to highlight my love of all things GO, as well as some tangential items. Let's start with an overview of my living room:

I have always adored eclectic decor, and have always had a penchant for antiques or things that merely look old. Since it covers 6,000 years of historical periods, GO fits well with my "style". And of course, I also like to show off my own art. Here are a few close-ups:

Faux stained-glass angel drawing (mine); English country cottage (mine): Globe Theatre scene (NOT mine); Aziraphale at his desk (mine). Here is the cottage, one of several I painted that could be what the South Downs cottage might be like:

Here is a closer view of the corner, where the bookcase holds quite a few items about the UK and London.

Painting on left is an idea I had where Aziraphale rescues Crowley from a Roman prison. On the right wall is my drawing of Aziraphale at his desk, and a different painting of what their cottage might look like:

On top of the bookcase is a statue of Shakespeare, as well as a music box I found in an antique shop which is yet another country cottage:

I also like to add little odds and ends here and there, such as the Funko Pops and a 1930s Bentley model (sadly, it didn't come in black, though the dark green isn't too bad) which sit in front of the TV:

And then there is this replica of the Greek statue upon which Crowley's wrestling angel/demon statue was based:

We will finish off the living room with two areas not seen in the big overview. First is this console table, where I keep tote bags that have Aziraphale and Crowley inspired designs. Above it are two of my colored pencil drawings and the needlepoint I did of the first GO2 promo pic:

And over here are two more of my drawings, plus a picnic basket:

Every home should have one.

I shall save the other rooms (oh yes, there is a lot more!) for another post.

I do love living in a place surrounded by the goodness that is Good Omens.

#good omens #good omens decor #good omens fanart

[chaifootsteps]

Hullo! It's SecretID!Alastor Anon, haunting your inbox with Alastor blether again:

I'll preface this with that this continues off of my rewrite AU ideas, Radio Demon's Identity-is-a-secret/unknown AU and wing amputee, peryton!Alastor who's been in survival (stressy) mode since his ass dropped into hell decades ago (is it bad that I kinda want Hell time and Earth time to have time dilation? 1:1 time ratio's kinda boring ngl).

For your consideration: Transman Alastor. He doesn't have physical antlers, they'd be shadow constructs and he can change their size and shape generally however he wants if he's got the magic/energy for it. I'm thinking of his powers being more shadow as well as radio-based (god his canon powers, design and motifs are so goddamn overcrowded, radio, shadows, eldritch-in-the-lovecraftian-sense, AND voodoo? holy fuck)? And maybe some shadow realm hammerspace for travel convenience (personal meat freezer and travel bag anybody?)? He'd be the kinda fellow who's always on the move, never stays in one place too long or too often and once a place's "safety" in his mind has been even partially-compromised he won't return to it for quite some time.

Also I had the design-idea of even replacing the black hairtips from canon with something like, bits of shadow crawling up his hair. Because he doesn't cast a shadow the normal way? He would keep his shadow off the ground, possibly hidden under his clothes, basically hugging himself tight (it could even help with holding himself upright whenever he's injured or weak/tired), leave no trace for predators to follow or tells for prey to see. Hell, maybe the shadow antlers are his shadow's hands but transformed and warped into different shapes? Can also resemble Radio Wireframe antennae or something sometimes?

And because I have nowhere else to put it, but, Alastor with the ability to steal voices and stories of people he kills in a certain way (certain criteria?) or something? Somethingsomething radio stuff? Idk how the radio and how sound design works, even with 30s or 30s adjacent tech, I feel like there's flavor to be found there of him being able to throw his (or someone else's) voice (or multiple voices). I can imagine him doing a wounded gazelle gambit but with voice throwing to lure a target somewhere more isolated.

I'm really in love with the idea of themes of Alastor being equal parts Hunter and Hunted, both in his behaviors and design. Shadows and radio, mostly heard, and if you DO see him, you either never knew he was there or it's too late (for you). Predator and Prey and awfully aware of it, the preference of low-risk moderate-reward ventures warring with that prey instinct that is equal parts hide/run away and beat the ever-loving shit out of that thing that looked at you vaguely threateningly. And it's not like these instincts come specifically from just, dying and his new form in Hell, but also based off of either experiences or exaggerated bits of Alastor's personality and the magic that formed his Hell-body going off of that or something idk.

Also, yanno another thing that could be interesting? What if in his life on Earth, he never even got to be on the radio? And the closest he ever got was being one of the studio crew or staff, or his 'crimes' being reported/talked bout on air (I'm kinda leaning more and more vigilante killer with Alastor, to tie further with the comic). But maybe he collected radios and tried making his own setup (a lot harder in the 1930s I'd imagine), practiced his voice and what his show would be like, but never got to be on the air no matter how hard he worked or tried, a dream forever unrealized (until Hell).

Random more down to earth (hah) stuff about my version of Alastor, besides cooking, hunting/tracking, and butchering/dressing down kills (whatever they may be), I could imagine him liking to sew or make clothes, something he could've done with his mother maybe? Or maybe he's just picked up some things from some trades he's worked in his life back on Earth when he was trying to work up into the radio business. Kinda a jack of several trades. Also this Alastor would drink his (at least, his version of) Respect Women juice, and Vaggie isn't excluded from this either (like I could imagine him annoying her a bit, but no ass slappage like canon, sorry not sorry). Also wing amputee things but, chronic residual limb pain? Or burns too, I haven't decided (sorry not sorry, I like my whump what can I say).

Also when trying to pitch the Radio Demon's deal to Charlie, Charlie can tell that Alastor himself was lying about Something, just not about what because idk I would imagine that everybody in Hell (and on Earth too) lies about things, even normal regular things. Charlie isn't that stupid, she's lived in Hell her entire life. Also okay, I really like the idea of her doing this entire plan all because she just wants Vaggie (can I rename her Aggie or something, pls) to be safe in Heaven and has no idea if this could work, they don't even know by what measure Heaven accepts people, much less condemned sinners ffs.

I would imagine that Alastor himself would be 'sending reports' to the Radio Demon (lol) as he helps the Hotel run better or something, with the Radio Demon making a few 'appearances' over the radios that start to populate the Hasbeen Hotel after the (informal?) alliance is started. There would be some mystery as to Why the Radio Demon wants to ally with this venture, because the boredom excused won't hold forever, and according to Niffty and Husk, Alastor has been in the Radio Demon's employ longer than they ever were, so who better to grill or watch for info? Any maybe, I would say that out of all his (relatively few, compared to other Sinners in the weight class that everyone assumes the Radio Demon is in) contracts, he likes Husk and Niffty the best (I mean, they've actually met Alastor as himself enough to sorta know him, even if they don't know he's the Radio Demon either, so that could say a lot). Idk what to do with his relationship to Rosie rn.

Thanks for listening to my ever-increasing Alastor blether again, thoughts, rebuttals or additions are welcome. <3

Loving all this blether! The part about Alastor drinking his respect women juice jumped out at me in particular, because I'm pretty sure Vivzie's under the impression that he already does. There's that comic where he saves a woman from being attacked and kills the guy who does it, but Vivzie also can't resist the urge to have him slap Vaggie on the ass because she thinks it's funny when characters are horrible to Vaggie.

A better writer would contrast the perfect gentleman Alastor thinks he is with the reality and also with Angel, who doesn't give a shit who he's rude to, but...Vivzie!

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