#Demon Evidence File

[procrastinatingattorney]

something something whatever sure they just theories but god the hives i got from that new pyro/cynical vid when he ranked 'they were the same person all alongggggggg' theory higher than the 'they were married' one

#it just felt rancid especially when the 'evidence' he gave was fucking shakey as fuck #and used the obituaries to go 'similar family member names so i guess theyre the same person lol' #and didn't point out the obituaries had the same partner description lmao #meanwhile he rated 'the file is a demonic entity oooo' super high and its so boring akshdksdka #rantings rambles

[loveinstreams]

ghost files is just so compelling because sure it’s about ghosts. sure it’s about trying to find proofs and evidence and explore what’s there. sure it’s about theories and banter. but in the midst of all this there’s another story about standing in the middle of a dark room paralyzed with fear until a friendly face cracks a joke for you. until someone says sure I’ll scream at dust and argue this is all bullshit while you find your courage. I’ll make a silly fool of myself, take goofy selfies of us in haunted mirrors and I’ll hold your hand for something I don’t even believe in. I’ll mock the wind and taunt demons so it’s less scary. I’ll sit there in the dark with you just to make you laugh.

#it’s like. ghosts or not im glad I’m living this with you #anyways having a normal one!!! #ghost files #watcher #shane and ryan #bfu #buzzfeed unsolved

[fellthemarvelous]

Aziraphale's talk with the Metatron

Another unhinged meta post for the Aziraphale Defense Squad. I will continue to defend him hardcore until fandom starts recognizing him as his own person and not a prop for Crowley's character. Welcome to my opinion on the Final Fifteen!!

Hell came to Earth.

Aziraphale blew up his halo while surrounded by Hell.

Aziraphale declared a war on Hell at the exact moment Crowley was in Heaven uncovering Heaven's secrets.

There was a door to Heaven opened through the bookshop and who knows what in the Discorporated Demon the guy at the other end of that door was getting.

Enough to get The Metatron's attention and for him to witness Aziraphale declare war on Hell while his demon boyfriend breaks into Heaven's top secret files and learns that Heaven is holding their rebellious angels hostage.

He doesn't give Aziraphale a chance to say no to Heaven, and Aziraphale is pissed off about it.

Aziraphale DID NOT SAY YES EITHER. It is so very important that people understand this. The Metatron did not give Aziraphale a choice. Aziraphale had to choose the best way to handle a hopeless situation.

I think Aziraphale is waiting for Crowley to get the hint.

Crowley broke into Heaven. He broke into Heaven. He uncovered secrets. Saraqael showed him the trial. He knows the truth.

Aziraphale almost started a war to protect Gabriel.

The Metatron had to intercept that last transmission because Crowley and Aziraphale are powerful enough to shield Earth from both sides.

Remember that during the Bullet Catch scene, Aziraphale asked a group of soldiers to raise their hands if they had experience using firearms. Crowley is the only one who did not raise his hand because he had never fired a gun before.

Now we get to the present, and The Metatron is basically telling Aziraphale that Crowley is not only a threat but there is evidence of the fact that they have been working together for 6,000 years and that he prevented Crowley's arrest by Hell in 1941.

As far as The Metatron is concerned, Aziraphale just committed an act of treason because it helped Crowley get out of Heaven safely with highly classified information.

He didn't know Crowley was in Heaven. Crowley never came back and it made him fear the worst, but then he's showing up with Heaven right after and that only makes it a bigger problem.

Aziraphale chose to keep the peace instead of allowing one side or the other to arrest Gabriel and Beelzebub. He let the former Supreme Archangel and former Grand Duke of Hell escape from their duties. He gave them a choice. They were never supposed to know those choices existed in the first place.

The way that The Metatron said "so predictable" when Nina told him that no one ever asked for Death. The invisible choice. The name of the coffee shop is used as a threat against Aziraphale.

Aziraphale's choice in this situation involved how he chose to present it to Crowley.

Crowley was asking to get his flat back after Shax made the plan to go back to Hell. He was already planning to take Aziraphale to the Ritz to celebrate by getting really drunk. He was fine.

Nina and Maggie's last minute interception got him all hyped up to finally make a love confession.

But please FOR THE LOVE OF GOD can we please try to remember that AZIRAPHALE NEVER SAID YES EITHER.

He seems to be turning himself in and trying to protect Crowley, and only realizes at the end that the Metatron plans to use him against humanity.

Crowley and Aziraphale were not having the same conversation. They were not having the same conversation. They were not having the same conversation.

Aziraphale is terrified. Look at the nervous smile and the way he is so confused as to why Crowley is mad at him. He's trying to tell Crowley he needs helps because he's in trouble.

He said he didn't want to go back to Heaven. He made this clear when he was speaking to Crowley.

He knows the things he is saying are contradictory to what he's learned, and he's needing Crowley to pick up on that. He's trying to tell Crowley that he can't protect him from Hell this time anymore than Crowley can protect him from Heaven because The Metatron knows they've been working together for 6,000 years and are now in a position to reveal Heaven's institutional problem.

Stop getting mad at Aziraphale for not saying no and start asking yourself why some of you refuse to acknowledge the fact that Aziraphale did not say yes to the Metatron either.

Especially knowing that Crowley did not say "yes" or "no" to Hell's offer in The Arrival either.

This isn't an angel who is happy to go back to Heaven. This is an angel begging his best friend to help him because he doesn't have a choice, and not understanding that Crowley thinks Aziraphale is rejecting him and Aziraphale is telling him he no longer has a choice.

He no longer has a choice and now Crowley is upset with him and he's still trying to figure out what just happened.

Aziraphale is going to get up there and cause some trouble though.

#good omens #good omens meta #aziraphale defense squad #aziraphale #crowley #final fifteen #behold my opinion on aziraphale's perspective #i love crowley #but there is more than one conversation happening #more than one story #more than one perspective

[iraprince]

i have what is probably a really obscure question - back in the day when 8tracks was a thing, there was a sweat (acid soup) mix that i THINK you made + posted, with a cover of LOVEFOOL. i'm trying to find that particular cover of LOVEFOOL. do you know which it was?

okay so this has driven me CRAZY bc i REMEMBER what ur talking about, but i cannot find it at all. i tried to do some basic sleuthing, like poking around searching at my twitter and stuff, but all i find from then is 1. scattered evidence of a few ppl being like "ira what the hell is this demonic cover of lovefool" and 2. me gloating about how i only found said demonic cover of lovefool through like a 45 minute google rabbit hole. not helpful, past ira. also, i must have downloaded it at some point to upload it to 8tracks, but that would have been like, two laptops ago and there's no way i can dig up the file.

anyway i got a bit closer by digging a little more -- i have this kind of hazy memory of literally just typing in something like "cool lovefool cover" and trawling list articles, and when i tried to recreate it i found this meanspirited little vice piece with a description that i am like, 99.9999% SURE IS REFERENCING THE VERSION WE'RE TALKING ABOUT!!!!! ...but unfortunately bc it's from 2012, all the embeds are gone/broken (and as far as i can tell there's no remnants of links even when i inspect the page, tho i'm not very tech literate when it comes to stuff like this so maybe i'm missing something):

and as we can see here, even back then, if this was the cover we're thinking of, it wasn't attributed or traceable. but we do glean a LITTLE info from this: "under six minutes" means it was five and change, and it must have been uploaded to soundcloud at least 11 years ago.

i tried trawling thru soundcloud w those parameters in mind but couldn't find it... unfortunately i think there's a high chance the original account that uploaded it doesn't exist anymore. (i may have missed something, like maybe a different account has re-uploaded it and i scrolled past it bc i was looking at upload date, but expanding the search to any year is something i don't have the bandwidth for rn!!)

this might be a workable amount of info to at least go to reddit or something with? i feel like there must be at least one subreddit that's specifically dedicated to "help me find this obscure soundcloud remix that got deleted." but for now i'm afraid i must admit defeat, which sucks bc now that you've reminded me of it *i* really wanna listen to the decade-old demonic cover of lovefool too :')

#additionally the mix does still technically exist on 8tracks but that wasn't helpful either #bc the way 8tracks works now is it just searches the title+artist of the originally uploaded track on youtube. #so i clicked thru to get to the weird lovefool cover and it just stalls out on that one :/ #SIGH.......... well. file this under 'stark reminders about the impermanence of shit online' #also from what i've seen soundcloud's search function is just atrocious. so i also may have missed it just in a technical issues sense

[paper-starz]

WELCOME HOME THEORY 2: The Theory Strikes Back

Good evening, gentlemen, gentleladies, and gentlethems,

Or Good night

Or even good morning,

Whenever you are, I humbly come to you all with another theory.

This time, its our favorite morally questionable sentient house, Home!

So strap in, buckle up, cause I have STUFF TO SAY.

THIS WILL BE VERY LONG AND IT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE UPDATE!!

Alright, so to begin, what the HECK is going on with Home?

They are one of the most mysterious characters in Welcome Home, we don't know much if not anything at all. And what we do know... wellllll......

Yeah definitely not menacing at all.....

The only thing that we do know of Home is well… ^ This and the fact that it and Wally are sentient.

Ok, let’s backtrack. HOMES SENTIENT???

Yep! While it was implied in the first update that it was aware of us, this handy-dandy audio clip confirms that Home (like Wally) is aware of “You” (Whoever this “You” person may be. Either literally us or the Question Answerer).

Now, what exactly Home is saying is still up for debate. Some say that it’s “Help Me” while others say it’s “Hello”. (It’s incredibly hard to know what’s exactly dots and dashes with Homes banging) but one thing is for sure, Home is communicating with us.

“AHHHH HOW SCARY! THE CREEPY DEMON HOUSE IS GONNA KILL US” D:

And that’s where you’re wrong, dear viewer. While Home is clearly morally dubious and incredibly suspicious, like Wally, I don’t think it’s necessarily evil.

Take for instance this link right here. It’s an honestly cute lil audio of Wally singing to Home. But while that is adorable, it’s the ending that I really wanna focus on.

Wally: …Do you like it? Home: *Creaks* (it’s Morse code again! Spells out IDO) Wally: Thats good… I think…

Ok why did I bring this old little clip up? Oh ya know… no reason… OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT WALLY CAN’T UNDERSTAND HOME ANYMORE!!!

Ok, I know whatcha thinkin’ “Why not anymore?”

Take a listen at another audio clip, this time it’s a secret one!!

The clip is about Barnaby and Home having a conversation with one another! But if you listen real closely… Home is not speaking in Morse code! It’s their own lil Home language, still consisting of creaks and bangs… yet Barnaby doesn’t seem to have any trouble understanding Home.

So how come Wally can’t understand Home and yet Barnaby can?

It’s because Wally’s sentient now. He’s getting more real. More human. Cartoon logic does not apply to Wally anymore! To us, Home is speaking in gibberish! Since it’s gibberish to us, then it’s gibberish to Wally!

And Home knows that, so it does the next best thing and tries using another language to hopefully communicate better. Now that I’m listening to the first audio clip again (so-below), it makes sense why Home is “speaking” slowly. It’s not used to communicating that way. It’s hard to tell their dots from their dashes, their bangs from their creaks, and it’s pauses are sometimes too long and too short at the same time! In a weird way, Home kinda has an accent when speaking in Morse code.

It’s kinda sweet just how hard Home is trying to communicate with Wally and us. Makes ya forget that Home has a weird portal and a flesh heart inside of them.

“WAIT WHAT?!?” (<- That’s you)

Yeah, remember when I said the more sentient something gets the more “real” they get?

Yeah, it’s also been happening with Home too. Go on any doodle audio file, and you can hear assumably Home’s heart beating away. You can hear it very clearly in this audio right here! I doubt the Playfellow Workshop made Home with a literal BEATING heart, but hey, Home is where the heart is I guess…

And now, the portal thing.

“Since when did Welcome Home ever had a portal??”

Oh since the very beginning actually!

First updated “portal” picture

Many people (including yours truly) theorized that this swirly spiral was a portal to the real world. It seems that we have more evidence to support this theory too!

First updated portal (shown left) and second updated portal (shown right)

Hey…. Wait a second…. Is it just me or it the portal getting…. Bigger?

The first update it was small, even the black goo wasn’t as bad… on the second picture, the spiral is INCREDIBLY large, and now the goo is coating the trees.

Well, isn’t that ominous.

"But wait. If Home has a portal... where is this portal even going?"

Both portals have the same black goo surrounding it, the same white eye in the center and the same swirl.

It's going to the Restoration team. And look at where the portal is placed. It's on the ceiling. "As above"

and the one in Welcome Home is "So below"

So perhaps the portal in Home is on the floor... This CANNOT be a coincidence I swear!!

With weird goo covering everything. And like, thats not all!

If you compare the items that the Restoration team uploaded onto the site in the first update and on the second update, you'll notice that the items have grown significantly larger.

At first, it was just envelopes with paper crammed inside of it. As if the person was trying to cram in as much information as possible. It isn't neat.

About us page: All of the paper materials tucked away inside the envelopes we have received are usually crammed together and covered in paint and ink.

Now, in the second update, the items have grown larger.

These items are much larger than mail, and I believe it also has something to do with how much bigger the portal has gotten.

Pretty soon, we might have full-grown puppets jumping in. But now that begs the question... Why is Home doing this?

Well, I think it's because Home really wants to help Wally.

As you inspect the website, there's a bunch of evidence that Wally is growing increasingly desperate for some other kind of sentient connection. It's been growing so much that it starts to get worrying...

Let's go back to the conversation between Home and Barnaby, notice anything weird? Not really? Well, I noticed that every bug audio file was in the perspective of Wally. Here, Wally is just staring at his half-finished painting, even Barnaby comments on this and finds it odd that Wally stopped painting.

It looks to me that Wally was dissociating. There, but not really there. He's been disconnected from reality because it feels unreal to him.

And Home sees that. As soon as the conversation turns to Wally, Home goes dead silent. When Wally still does not respond, Home releases a series of quick creaks and bangs to try and get Wally's attention. It doesn't work. Once Barnaby says Wally's name, it snaps him out of his dissociative state.

And Home is worried about Wally.

It gives a whole new look to the infamous "so-below" image.

Home isn't looking at Wally, it's looking straight at us. Eyes shaking as Wally seems like he's begging. Home doesn't look malicious here, Home looks like it's begging us to do something to calm Wally down because it physically can't anymore.

Home and Wally don't have a lot, if not any facial expressions at all. And shaky eyes in cartoons are a good indicator that someone is scared.

And if Home (in this link) is saying "Help Me", then no wonder! Heck, even the freaking disk is shaking!

Home is reaching out to us for help because it can't comfort Wally anymore and I don't know about you but that is SAD.

Two puppets that recently gained sentience can't even get the comfort out of each other because they can't communicate anymore :(

So, all Home can do is wait and watch Wally.

And if help won't come to you, well, having a handy-dandy portal is very helpful!

You can go to the help instead.

#welcome home #wally darling #welcome home wally #welcome home home #welcome home barnaby #barnaby b beagle #theory #HONESTLY #THIS GIVES ME SUCH A NEW PERSPECTIVE ON HOME #Honestly #The fandom (including myself) kinda used Home as a scapegoat for creepy shit! "AAA! Home is evil and wrong and bad >:( #And while Home is still morally dubious #I think (like Wally) it's desperate for help

[puppiesandnightlock]

Link: Why Bruce Should Not Have The Title of World's Greatest Detective Anymore, a presentation by Tim Drake

Summary: Bruce didn't know the Super Sons were dating somehow, and Tim compiled a list of evidence of a bunch of moment here he should have caught on, but did not.

Featuring Confused and Tired Dad Bruce, PowerPoint master Tim, Traumatized Dick, and an embarrassed Damian.

Super Sons Week Bonus Day: Family and Legacy (this one won by a landslide on the tumblr poll)

In Bruce’s defense, he was a father of six officially and about twelve emotionally. He had long ago resigned his title of World’s Greatest Detective to Tim, so honestly, could you blame him for not noticing that his youngest son had had company around more often? And come on, it was Jonathan Samuel Kent, the two were practically glued to each other even before recent developments. 

How recent, he wasn't sure. 

And now he had to sit through a folder Tim had given him, evidence compiled in an attempt to clear things up in his head. He plugged in the USB that fell out of it and it opened to a powerpoint.

Of course.

Angels and Demons, or otherwise known as B, how the fuck did you not know?

A presentation by Tim Drake 

Evidence #1: “Wrestling.”

The slide played a clip of surveillance feed from inside of the manor. Damian had Jon pinned to the ground, both panting and flushed. 

“What’s going on here?” Bruce turned the doorknob, poking his head through the door.

Damian scrambled off of the taller boy, schooling his features to a mask of indifference. 

Jon made no such efforts, choosing to starfish across the carpeted floor, a blank look on his face as he stared at the ceiling.

“Nothing, Father, we decided to make use of our time and spar. Jonathan needs practice.” 

Bruce eyed them suspiciously, pausing to take in the scene. Damian’s usual gel slicked hair was ruffled, and Jon’s curls were splayed out on the floor, some in his face.

Then again, his hair was always a bit unruly.

Their faces were flushed, and they had been breathing heavily when he came in.

The quick once over seemingly revealed nothing to him, although one could clearly see the still blown pupils of an expressionless Jon, and both boys’ kiss-bitten lips.

“Next time, spar in the cave, that’s what it's there for.” He walked out, shutting the door behind him.

The video feed played for a bit longer, Damian putting his face in his hands, a very un-Damian-like thing to do, and groaning.

“I cannot believe that actually worked.”

Tim had left a little note on the side of the video after it stopped playing. You have six kids, and one of them is one Richard John Grayson, how on earth did you fall for that?

Evidence #2: Dates

This opened to a video from a phone, someone walking into Damian’s room and filming his fussing with his appearance in the mirror.

“Whatcha doin’, baby bat?” Tim’s voice came from the other side of the camera.

“Fixing my hair, what does it look like, Drake?”

“Whoa, whoa, chill. I’m just curious, I haven't seen you put this much interest into your appearance since you had picture day.”

Damian scowled, more out of admittance that he was right then spite.

“Say what you will, Timothy.” He hesitated. “How do I look?”

“You’ll blow his socks off, Dames.” Tim said softly, a hand reaching out from behind the phone to straighten his jacket.

Damian inhaled deeply and carefully walked down the stairs. The doorbell rang, and as if filming a reality show, Tim followed dutifully behind. Jon stood, looking as nervous as he was, holding a small bunch of wild flowers that he immediately thrust into Damian’s face. 

“Oh my god-” was whispered from Tim as the camera zoomed in on Damian, a pink flush becoming slightly visible.

“I’m so sending this to Dick.”

Damian handed off the flowers to the nearest person, but not before threading a few into Jon’s curls.

“Where are you going?” Bruce came out from the dining room, files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

Tim switched the camera over to him, zooming in on his tired appearance, then zooming out so he could see everyone.

“The movies, s-sir.” Jon stuttered.

Burce raised an eyebrow. “Jon, you’ve known me for years, you can drop the formalities.”

An undignified squeak came from the boy and Damian sighed, albeit affectionately.

“We will be going, Father.”

“Have a good time.” He waved them off, disappearing into the labyrinth that is Wayne Manor.

“That’s it?” Tim was heard screeching off screen. “He gave ME hell, gave my dates HELL, broke out the KRYPTONITE when Kon even LOOKED at me, and all you get is HAVE A GOOD TIME?”

“Sucks to suck.” Damian jeered, taking Jon by the hand and dragging him out the door.

Followed by it was several screenshots from a chat titled “Rockin’ Robins”, all of them sharing stories until someone pointed out that maybe Bruce didn't even know it was a date, which was accurate.

This note said There were flowers. Flowers.

Evidence #3: They were in A FUCKING CLOSET.

Bruce spat his coffee out at that, massaging his temples. This was getting to be way too much. He did not at all need to know about what had happened in the closet, especially because he remembered this particular one and frankly? It was embarrassing that he didn’t catch on then.

Bruce was walking down the hallway when he suddenly heard noises coming from the third floor janitor's closet.

Tentatively, he opened the door. The last thing he expected was for Jon and Damian to stumble out of it, school uniforms slightly unbuttoned and very rumpled. Jon’s glasses were crooked, and Damian’s tie was missing.

“F-Father!” Damian stuttered, attempting to smooth out his ruffled appearance. Jon silently handed him his tie, both boys flushing furiously under Bruce’s rather confused gaze.

“What were you doing in there? Aren’t you supposed to be on that field trip? Your class is still on the first floor.” 

“W-We were…uh-” Jon fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, nudging Damian for help.

Suddenly, his gaze caught on something reflecting green in his son’s back pocket. His eyes narrowed and his face set into a firm expression.

“We will be talking about this at home. I’m disappointed in both of you, I thought we’d gone over this.” 

Damian’s face paled, before morphing into one of confusion. “What exactly are you talking about, Father?”

“Sneaking out for hero work.”

Both teens inwardly sobbed in relief as Damian said stiffly, “Yes, Father.”and Jon with a quaking “Sorry, Uncle Bruce.”

Satisfied in his parenting skills, Bruce continued towards his office.

If he watched the video Tim had put in from the surveillance feed of Wayne Enterprises, he could almost guarantee they would have both been sporting some rather suspicious brusings. 

Bruce stood up, he was going to need a drink to get through the rest of this. 

Unbeknownst to him, most of his kids were perched in the living room, wheezing at their father’s reactions.

Damian was rather displeased at all that was being shown, and his face was flushed red.

“Looks like baby bat isn’t so innocent.” Jason cackled.

“My precious sweet little boy, this is OBSCENE, they are BABIES!”

“Richard, I am nineteen years old.”

“BABIES.”

Tim closed the laptop as Bruce left the cave, leaning back. “It was sad, honestly, to compile all this information and realize Bruce didn't get any of it. I mean, how long has it been?”

“Three years.” Damian muttered.

“Three fucking years. It’s sad to see him go.” Duke said solemnly.

There was a moment of silence as they mourned the loss of their once perceptive father.

Then promptly burst into laughter.

@super-sons-week-2023

#damian wayne #jondami #jon kent #super sons week 2023 #batdad #batfam #damijon #jonathan kent #jonathan samuel kent #tim drake #jason todd #duke thomas #dick grayson #super sons #oblivious parent #chosen by you the tumblr ppl #thank you for your assistance #fluff #i think its funny tbh #bruce is a good dad #tired and a lil stupid #but a good dad

[holleratyourbouyancy]

I can't wait for more demon!Shane evidence to appear in ghost files too

#ghost files #ryan bergara #watcher #shane madej #watcher entertainment

[actual-changeling]

We need to talk about the Archangel Michael.

No, seriously we NEED to talk about Michael because I think she's going to be way more important than we currently think.

(quick side note: I will be jumping between pronouns for everyone involved because I go by vibes and also bc I'm trans and I like doing it. Hopefully it won't be too confusing, but I'll try to make it clear who I am talking about.)

So! Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner. In accordance with the usual essay rules, let's begin with my hypothesis before we go down a long, probably very unhinged spiral.

I completely underestimated how thorough I was going to be, so to not overwhelm everyone with a miles long post, I will be dividing this meta into parts and will post them as I finish them.

A lot of small details have been fluttering around my mind over the last few weeks, and I think I am finally starting to put all the pieces together—and there are a LOT.

Part 1: Season One and Michael's Rank

We know them as one of the three (four—but that's another post) Archangels next to Gabriel and Uriel. While Gabriel's title was that of the Supreme Archangel, Michael's is explicitly stated in episode one of season two as 'duty officer', which, broadly speaking, makes them the Watcher, the one in charge in the case of Gabriel's absence for whatever reason, taking command where he can't; usually that probably meant him simply being busy and not him being unemployed and naked.

Their position is further signified by their ring, which resembles the Ophanim, the many-eyed angel wheels.

They are the one to keep a literal eye on things—they find pictures of Aziraphale and Crowley in S1 in the Observation Files, they watch over the heavenly hosts, they oversee plans, everything.

Michael even takes it a step further and (presumably created) the grapevine with hell, having direct contact to higher ranking demons such as Ligur, most likely also Dagon, and Beelzebub.

This is where we get to my theory: Michael is actively working with demons against both heaven and hell. It doesn't mean that they care about preserving earth, though they might later on, but that whatever plans heaven currently has are to be stopped.

I'm going to take this one step further and say that Michael also knew about Gabriel and Beelzebub, and helped him escape.

Now to the fun part: the evidence!

In season one, they are interested in stopping Crowley and Aziraphale from preventing the apocalypse, but that does not mean that they agree with the plans heaven has for said event—only that they need it to happen so their own agenda can stay on track. She has information she technically shouldn't, like, well, literally all the details about how, when, and what is going to go down

This is due to heaven and hell's general cooperation, which is its own post, but all of that runs through them.

That 'apparently' is doing a lot of heavy lifting here, it's the basic and plausible deniability that's required for them to not be in trouble. She is also in charge of ORGANIZING the troops, fulfilling her role as a navigator.

On top of that, the way she talks to Ligur highly mirrors the way two covert operatives might talk to one another, using phrases like 'our man' and 'working for you'. The mere assumption Michael makes here, that Aziraphale could be a spy, implies that there ARE already spies and angels working for hell.

Consorting with the enemy is allowed as long as it is done within a very specific framework, so Michael and Ligur are free to do so, while Aziraphale and Crowley are working outside of it, which gives heaven & hell the basis to punish them for it.

I think the phrasing of this sentence is also quite interesting.

Not "time to come back to heaven" or anything along the lines that takes Aziraphale's ethereal status into account, no, she simply says he needs to 'choose sides'—and who is to say that he needs to choose heaven or that heaven and hell are the only sides one can choose? Additionally, Michael is the one to bring the holy water to hell while they send one of the Erics, and while the trial as a whole holds a certain tension, there does not seem to be any open animosity between him and the dukes of hell.

In short, Michael is working with hell behind the scenes, likely pursuing their own goals, and standing in opposition to heaven.

Moving on to season two, and here it gets REALLY fun.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

(hopefully it will just be five. it was supposed to be two. then three. but here we are)

#alex talks good omens #good omens #good omens season 2 #go2 #good omens meta #archangel michael #archangel uriel #archangel gabriel #good omens michael #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #alex's unhinged meta corner

[snoutbleed]

Telling a story takes guts.

Forensic photographer Sören Heinrich can’t ignore the nausea bubbling in his throat when documenting someone's darkest day. He loses sleep over the fates he captures but is drawn to the purpose vested in his grisly role. When blood-slicked prints become Sören's next subject, he finds a message that blurs the line between his personal and professional life.

"This is where I’ve been. Don’t follow."

Unable to fathom his long-lost brother’s crimson handwriting, Sören descends into the criminal underworld for answers. The young boar's inner demons guide him toward a morbid self-reckoning.

Direktion 2 has their work cut out for them.

Crime is on the rise in post-reunification Berlin. Among the cases, the Polizeidirektorate in the city's westernmost boroughs is baffled by freak murders at the hands of denizens without motive.

In the shadow of the Berlin Wall, the crime wave takes a supernatural twist behind the lock of a post-Soviet puzzle.

Camera flashes at the crime scenes reveal gruesome secrets stirring in the shadows.

Unravel the conspiracy in #LONG STORY SHORT.

#The Filing Cabinet -- scan the profiles of those in the know. #Bloodstained Polaroids -- view the images of lives gone astray. #Evidence Board -- learn the details of secrets best kept. #Mystery Signals -- behold the lore of the mind melt. Face the music in the official Long Story Short playlist!

Everyone gathers toward the Abschnitt.

There are several Polizei Berlin stations like the Abschnitt, but everyone tied to this supernatural symphony ends up near this Spandau station particularly.

Sören Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The black sheep of the Abschnitt. Sören’s abrasive nature keeps his co-workers at bay, a division widened by their western ideals clashing with his East German upbringing. He distances himself from the station through tight focus on his job, always the first to arrive at a crime scene. Don Jae Hale -- ( elk | tag | bio ) The silver-tongued Kriminalhauptkommissar of the Abschnitt. Hale is quick to dismiss the killings up until his leadership comes under siege by the paranoid public. Umeya Romanova -- ( fox | tag | bio ) The Bundeskriminalamt detective sent to assist with the Abschnitt’s mounting cases. Rumor says Umeya is there for more than the mystery, but her motives veiled by a callous attitude. Marieke Reiss -- ( rabbit | tag | bio ) The star psychology student barely escaped a killing. Now a key witness, Marieke can’t rest easy knowing she could be the next victim, driving her to take matters into her own hands. Reinhardt Müller -- ( donkey | tag | bio ) The Abschnitt’s disgraced ace detective, worn down and living in the grimy corners of Berlin. When crime spikes, Reinhardt tries to relive his “glory days" of detective work. Ukko Heinrich -- ( boar | tag | bio ) The crime lord defends his territory with brutal but firm methods. He's sworn to his found family, the country's political rift making him protective to a fault. Vorwitz Albrecht -- ( bat | tag | bio ) A gardener with good banners but bad morals. Vorwitz's unsavory career choices put him in the Abschnitt, but he finds a way out with Sören.

Entropy knows no bounds.

Stop, look and listen: stories are everywhere. Behold my settings.

Face more madness in #TALES GONE STALE.

LAID TO WASTE -- an abomination stirs in the bayou, its secrets poisoning a township. THE WASTED LIVES -- a group of galactic fugitives embark on a never-ending getaway on a runaway cruiser. (Links need an update. Stay tuned.)

The mind behind the melancholy.

ACHTUNG! This blog is 18+ for gore and suggestive content!

You can call me Dissy (she/her). I'm a writer with stories and ideas always bouncing inside my head, especially this one. Feel free to ask me about myself, my writing, my characters, or anything else. I promise you I can bark up a tree for hours.

I also do Polaroid photography: check out @hogrot for my shots!

I also encourage comments, critique, etc. about this setting. I want to pace myself while writing this, therefore I have all the time I need to refine this where I can. I don't expect this story to come out for a while anyway, especially as I run it through critiques. Hell, this pet project wouldn't have come into fruition thanks to the feedback of some incredible friends.

Shoutout to PYRY for doing character design and art for this setting, as well as giving his ideas and characters for the Heinrich plotline. Go check out his killer art. This story wouldn't exist without him.

Another shoutout to @tsanapi, an incredible artist who drew the art pictured above. Her sense of style is so keen.

And a final thanks to you, the reader, for tuning into the mind melt. This signals wouldn't have picked up without you.

#wip intro #writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writing #story writing #furry writing #writing community #writer intro #long story short #furry #furry art #oc art #oc writing

[blasphemecel]

Shidou Ryuusei — Taming Demons

PAIRING: Shidou Ryuusei/Reader WORD COUNT: 7.6k TYPE: Humor, Roommates, Romantic frenemies WARNING(S): Threats of violence, canon-typical football derangement, there's a cockroach (and it's not shidou 😰)

It’s on a decent day that Sae meets you and Shidou. The weather is mild without any clouds to obscure the sky, the wind is nothing more than a pleasant breeze, birds are chirping, and most importantly there are no ugly and irrelevant middle-aged men from the JFA to bother him with their whining or otherwise offend his senses.

Too bad he’s on the way to some secret deprivation tank in Ego Jinpachi’s football-themed basement to appreciate any of this.

He’d been ballsier than usual, all things considered, which is an impressive accomplishment since his default setting is audacious. Yeah, saying he wants one striker and then demanding two is a little much even for him, but he’s not going to leave a stray behind. That’d be a waste.

It’s not like Ego didn’t try to warn him, showing him actual footage to review like this was evidence he needed to present in court while making a case.

In the first clip, Rin was calling you lukewarm (there was really no context beyond this), to which you looked at him like you didn’t even know who he was and said, “Peons should only speak to me while looking at my feet, so do that or exercise your right to remain silent,” and it made Rin so incredulous that he actually didn’t respond.

Then Shidou appeared to have found this funny because he came running into view at mach speed laughing his ass off, just to shove the soles of his cleaves in Rin’s face and say, “Lick my feet, Rin-Rin!”

Predictably this turned into some kind of scuffle (to Sae’s bemusement, Rin was losing), and then you joined in because apparently Shidou was ‘copying you,’ and when you accused him of that he became super offended, and at some point the video cut off.

Fine, Sae thought. Whatever.

The second one was ominously titled ‘The_[L/n]_Disaster.wmv,’ and it was cut out from the match this whole saga revolved around. It was normal for a while until you — for no discernible reason — fell down to your knees, pulled an… unsettling expression, screamed like a banshee and said, “I’m so bored! I’m gonna die!” before stealing the ball and shooting it into your own team’s net.

Understandably the field fell into an uproar, and some of your teammates straight up threatened to kill you.

“Who the hell do you think you are???”

You sat down like a petulant child, crossed your arms even. Everyone was too busy holding back their bloodlust so as to not pummel you into the ground and get a hundred red cards to make sense of your behavior.

… Honestly? A little weird, but nothing the Itoshi Sae can’t work with.

And then there was the last video, which was also the lengthiest. Whoever edited it had too much time on their hands. It was like a full-fledged movie with a romantic subplot (between Shidou and the ball or maybe his abstract interpretations of the act of playing football), conflict (the half hour long montage of him fighting everyone, overlayed with shitty dubstep music), and even a climax (in the literary sense).

Also strange, but not enough to put off Sae. After seeing all of this, though, he wondered if Rin managed to make at least one friend, but quickly squashed the thought. Not like he cares.

The final attachment was completely innocuous, an overview of your abilities and progress in Blue Lock, and both of you had unflattering pictures in your files. Ego’s underlying question of Do you know what you’re getting yourself into? still translated.

You’re not lumps of talent or whatever. It’s more like you’re diamonds buried in a deep pit of shit that no one even wants, but at the mental image of himself digging through feces, Sae disregards the metaphor.

If Ego’s idea for an ideal striker is a raging megalomaniac, well. He sure knows how to pick them.

___

Electrocuted like an inmate in a movie running into the fence while trying to break out of jail, muzzled like some kind of idiot dog that doesn’t know not to bite people, strapped down in a fucking straitjacket, what did Shidou ever do to deserve this? Humiliated, and not in the sexy way.

To think of all of these punishments, the most cruel one is still your company.

Just watching you is exhausting him, maybe even more so because he can’t stand up and restrain your annoying ass to make you stop screaming and rolling around and kicking and hitting and whatever (all things he believes are within his right and not yours, since you’re doing them in a way that is so not fun). He swears he’s never been tired before, but right now he has no energy, and he’s not even doing anything. You have to be some special new species of leech.

That’d be kinda hot now that he thinks about it, if you’d like… attach to him and suck out his blood. But for now he needs to stay focused.

Prior to your freak-out — he’s not even sure what you’re mad about — you had to write ‘I won’t score in my own goal next time’ all over the walls because apparently ‘if you act like a child, you’ll get treated like one,’ but you gave up not even half-way through and broke the marker after declaring you’re going to kill Ego.

“I think you need to be in a straitjacket, not me,” he says with a sly grin as if this whole situation is amusing. He does share your killing Ego sentiments, though, but you’re easy to tease. Despite his fatigue from the predicament, he is still dedicated to being an irritating piece of shit.

“I wish I was!” you say.

What?

You drag your hands down your face, stretching the skin. “I’m going to gouge my eyes out!” Then there’s some more facial expressions of mental anguish before you perk up after his words properly register in your head. “Oh, you’re so worthless and perverse, but this is actually a great idea. We should switch,” you say pleasantly.

“Worthless? C’mon, didn’t you watch while I was playing?”

You undo the muzzle so he’s the slightest bit grateful to you until you say, “Meh.”

You’re being disingenuous here and one of Shidou’s principles is real recognizes real, so even this is enough to piss him off, but then again there was also the other questionable and embarrassing thing you did. “If football’s a source of life, then you’re like a miscarriage. Or an abortion.”

“What! Why?”

Wow, you are such an infuriating and confusing hypocrite. He needs to take you out on a date some time. “‘Cause the only one who should get to shoot in your goal is… me.”

Your eye twitches, face scrunching to the left like a black hole is sucking in all of your features. He looks so happy with himself that you want him to die. “Shidou Ryuusei-”

“Not the full government name!” he cries out with fake dismay.

“-if you say something like this to me again, I’m gonna dismember you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There is a shit-eating grin of a man who knows exactly what you’re talking about on his face. A slight blush, even, but it points towards elation, not embarrassment. “And there’s nothing in here you can do that with.”

“The room has walls.”

“Don’t saaaay things like that,” he sings. “Not when I’m all tied up like a lunatic.”

What does he mean by this?

You’re not even making progress with unhooking the straitjacket since there isn’t much wiggle room between Shidou’s back and the weird stand thing, but Ego shocks you through the bodysuit to dissuade you from any further attempts. This time, when you slip on the floor, it’s not your fault. After a few pitiful twitches, you say, “That’s it. I’m gonna die.”

???

“I was beautiful.” You pose while still on the floor. “Please make up some cool last words for me. For my tombstone.”

“You went from killing Four Eyes to killing me to then killing yourself. Amazing range,” says Shidou with a whistle, once again acting like the situation is funny.

He watches you try to break your neck by forcing it in unnatural positions using your hands for a bit until the effort proves to be anatomically impossible. Long hours lie ahead of him.

___

Sae has been eavesdropping in front of the door for at least twenty minutes to assess the situation before walking in. There’d been blood-curdling screams, heavy sounds of thrashing (apparently you were trying to run up to the ceiling and kept falling down and throwing tantrums, which Shidou, again, found hilarious, but all it gave Sae was a migraine from having to listen to the commotion), and five arguments that never concluded because you two couldn’t stay on topic. Many expletives and creative death threats flew through the air.

It occurs to him for the first time that trying to control the two most selfish strikers on the roster is ambitious. You both operate on an incomprehensible level of egotism, with you acting like your teammates are unimpressive circus acts and Shidou’s tendency to play as if he’s a sole soldier on a mission to bludgeon everyone else on the field. Small fry who don’t take gambles like this here and there, though, aren’t worth anything.

“I love watchin’ people squirm and all, but not like this. Can you do something more exciting?”

“What’s gonna be exciting is the sight of your nail beds while I rip them off one by one.”

The sound of an exaggerated yawn. “Your fake threats aren’t stirring me at all. Look at me, I’m so bored. So bored and pathetic and restrained and please, I need a more refreshing view.”

There’s one last, grander thud. “I’m done,” you declare.

… Nothing, for a bit.

“You look so cute and harmless like this. Makes me wanna squeeze your neck till your eyes pop out.”

You don’t dignify that comment with a response.

___

This latest development is detrimental to your relationship with Itoshi Sae. Not that you have any kind of relationship with him besides striking up the U-20 deal, but you’ve been dating him in your head ever since you saw him play on TV a few years ago. You’re contemplating mentally breaking up with him for good. That’s how serious of an offense you’re dealing with.

It’s like you don’t even know me, Sae, you cry, though you don’t commit to speaking it out loud. He’s not even here to hear your bitchfest, anyway, so you settle for throwing your minimalistic bag of belongings on one of the beds with as much hate as possible.

Shidou waves at you from the other side of the room like you didn’t arrive at this complex in the same car, and like you didn’t spend eight hours in the punishment room together. Your scowl is really, really ugly, wrinkling your skin. Seriously, sharing an apartment is one thing, but the same room? The same toilet? There is no one you tolerate enough in the world for this bullshit.

After sorting through your belongings and doing a good job at ignoring whatever Shidou is saying, you step out and head towards the kitchen and rummage through the fridge and the pantry. It’s a little strange that you’re no longer in Blue Lock for the time being. You can go eat at a restaurant if you want to, but you find that Sae’s team has been gracious enough to leave some supplies to last a couple of days.

Shidou trails after you like an unwanted shadow. You examine everything one last time before grabbing a protein bar and taking a seat at the table, leaving you with the view of Shidou grabbing whatever he can before he dumps it all on the counter and opens the blender. You frown in confusion. “What’re you doing?”

“Cooking,” he says in a tone which suggests he finds you stupid for not understanding that at first glance.

“You can’t put raw meat in the fucking blender.”

“Yeah, I can.” He rips two packages with different spices and dumps them in. “Look, there’s even seasoning.” And then he shoves in a cucumber and an unpeeled banana.

You lunge towards him, cradling the blender, your snack forgotten. “You’re gonna get food poisoning, moron.”

“Then how come I’ve never had it before???” Shidou tries to take a hold of it again, wrenching it out of your hands before a game of tug-of-war ensues.

There is no way he’s serious. This must be some elaborate way for him to troll you. Your struggle for the blender, however, is more intense than anyone would’ve anticipated because your palms turn sweaty, with the blender slipping out once you attempt a harder yank. Shidou almost manages to save it from its imminent fate with a swipe, but his reaction is not fast enough and it shatters on the floor.

“Look at what you did.” You gesture.

“You got in the way of my cooking! It’s your fault.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Were you raised in a cave? A mountain? I will destroy you if I see you ‘cooking’ in my presence again.”

He rolls his eyes and mimes a blabbering mouth with his hand as if to say yap, yap, yap. You resist the urge to reach out and break at least one of his fingers.

With a huff, you stomp your way to the bathroom in search of a broom and dustpan to get rid of the glass shards, the rest of Shidou’s arguments about why a steak shake is ‘gourmet’ and ‘exotic’ falling on deaf ears. You’re also trying to think of a good place to throw away the pieces because you’re so not telling Itoshi Sae you broke his rent-a-blender.

You return to the sight of Shidou finishing up your abandoned protein bar while trying to pick up glass shards between his toes.

“Stop that. What if you hurt yourself?! Seriously, what’s your deal?” You narrow your eyes at him while he blows a raspberry at you and the realization of his thievery hits you. “Hey, spit that out.”

Shidou smiles and throws the shard — yeah, with his toes — at your shins, but you ignore the action, your pre-existing rage rendering you unresponsive. “So demanding.” He waves your protein bar, or at least what’s left of it, in the air. “Come and take it if you want it so bad.”

“I’m not playing tag like a child when the floor’s covered in glass,” you say, despite already taking a step forward, ready to assume a stance and chase him.

You do, of course, end up playing tag like a child when the floor’s covered in glass. Your protein bar falls in the toilet. When Shidou reaches to flush it, you push him out of the way, and he pushes back, and so begins a brawl, any other concerns fading in the background.

Two hours later, you shriek out a piercing scream when you take a piss and flush without thinking.

___

You wake up to weird yelling. This is atypical since you’re usually the one who causes commotion. You laze around in bed, taking it as noise from your dream, until your consciousness clears and during your first moment being awake, you swear to make whoever’s responsible for this regret it. Through bleary eyes, you observe the room, and find the bed opposite of yours empty.

You slog your way out to brush your teeth, but the racket grows louder, and you identify the source as the balcony. Without thinking, you head there to scold Shidou, abandoning your previous task.

“Cytolysis!” What the hell is he even on about? “Ooh, and arteries!” Seriously.

“Douchebag, you woke me up. Stop screaming so early or I’ll- Why are you naked?!”

“You were really talking for that long before you noticed…?”

“Cover up,” you say, disregarding his indirect call out of how much you love your own voice, to the point you stop noticing your surroundings once you get going in a spiel. “What if you get arrested for public indecency? It could ruin your life.”

“I can’t sunbathe if I’m wearing clothes,” Shidou says.

“You literally can.”

“Yeah, if I want an uneven tan.” He rolls his eyes as if you’re being unreasonable for expecting him not to randomly be in the nude. You really don’t know how maintaining a tan is more urgent than avoiding the charge you brought up, but you don’t bother questioning him any further. “Listen, you’re not ruining this for me. I haven’t been able to do my morning routine for weeks!”

“What, so you couldn’t do it in front of the others, but you can do it in front of me? I’m way too dignified for… the sight of you. Right now and in general.”

“Snobby-chan, you can’t be for real. There wasn't any sun there.”

“You really are shameless, aren’t you?”

He shrugs, looking at his nails in disinterest. “Shame is just a shackle that gets in the way of my freedom.”

Your eye twitches, and your scowling is causing some tightness in your face, primarily in your forehead. Don’t try to make it philosophical now!

“Ugh,” you say, figuring you’re way too speechless to offer anything more constructive. “Step foot in front of me like this when you’re done and I’m going to boil you in a cauldron, you hear?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Prude-chan. Just don’t interrupt me again.”

“Call me by a nickname again and I’ll peel you with the peeler from the kitchen.”

Instead of replying, he sends you a kiss and a wink.

After some incredulous and judgmental staring, you slam the door shut, not putting much thought into the force of it. It rattles and the frame separates from the jamb, leaving it crooked and awkward. You fall to your knees on the floor and start crying — like, really bawling and torturing your throat with your wails of turmoil — and trying to shred your scalp with your nails. Shidou spares a moment from the bullshit he calls his ‘morning routine’ to laugh.

___

You emerge from your nap looking like you’ve been through the seventh circle of hell in Dante’s Inferno. It was to compensate for your early wake up. Now you stand in front of the mirror, finally brushing your teeth.

Shidou waltzes in not much later, at least wearing a shirt and shorts. He shoves you aside with the unceremonious command, “Move,” before leaning over the sink and pulling out eyeliner, trying to get in a good position.

You forget to yell at him, since you become fascinated by him when you see him put it close to his face with a look of concentration. Is he going to stab his eye out? This is so exciting.

… Shidou starts applying it over his lower lashline. You frown at the anticlimactic follow up. It’s pretty bizarre to be living with him like this, though.

Making your way around, you spit out the foam then rinse before moving on with the rest of your business. He slathers his hands in too much hair gel before beginning to work on shaping it into the ridiculous style he usually wears it in. This seems like an excruciatingly long and wasteful process.

You ask, “So you do this every day?”

“I thought ‘cause of earlier that you don’t know what a morning routine is, but are you really just gonna confirm it like that? You’re too easy.”

You almost make the mature decision to leave and do something else (maybe read a wikiHow article about how to fix doors), but Shidou proves to be too tempting of a target when he stands there, scrutinizing you with an almost feline expression as you pass by him. Twisting one of the loose strands on his head around your finger, you pull him down to eye-level, and he lets you, looking amused. “I’m gonna grab you by your stupid antennae and throw you out of the window.”

Instead of answering, Shidou backs away and flicks the one you weren’t holding. You tilt your head in confusion, not understanding what he’s doing. “My receptors are sensing bullshit.”

You scratch your chin in fake contemplation. “You know, you act kinda weird and you have this wild look going on… but deep down you’re just a lame biology nerd.”

“Me, weird?! I’m not taking that from you,” he says in mock offense.

“What?” you ask, in astonishment at his nerve to bring you up. “There’s nothing weird about me.”

Your genuine confusion is making Shidou assume you live in a parallel universe.

___

It would’ve been your third day of surviving on protein bars — Shidou keeps referring to this as ‘your fault’ because you ‘broke the blender’ (objectively it was a collaborative effort, from your perspective he is to blame) as if the blender is a cooking utensil — so you’re heading to some cheap place to eat.

“I can’t believe they’re benching us,” you say through grit teeth. The complaint serves as a distraction from your grumbling stomach.

“But the fight was pretty fun,” Shidou adds optimistically, looking extra cheerful.

Just the thought of it is making you want to shrivel up and die, but then again, there are many things which make you feel this way. “That was so embarrassing. I hope Sae didn’t see… If he did, I’ll commit seppuku during practice tomorrow.” The last statement is a promise you make with solemn seriousness.

He most definitely saw since you had a loud meltdown before you joined Shidou in attacking everyone, but instead of bringing this to your attention, he says, “Is that guy a big deal or something? You like him a lot.”

His accusation isn’t presumptuous in the slightest. The one time he got an accidental glance of your lock screen, the picture was a close-up of Itoshi Sae’s unimpressed face with a conspicuous placement of the gettyimages trademark covering a fourth of his forehead.

“What?” You raise an eyebrow. Shidou expects you to freak out again and scream in denial, but all you ask is, “Don’t you know who he is?”

He shrugs.

“He’s a genius! And really handsome, too. I love watching him play,” you swoon, caressing your cheeks. “He’s like a prince. A football prince… The best kind of prince.”

“I’ll see what he’s about during the game,” says Shidou with a grin as if he’s the professional player renowned for his skills all over the world, and Sae is some random guy. But you don’t think he’s trying to be arrogant. There’s this inane kind of excitement about him, like he hopes what you said is true because he wants to experience it.

“Hey, Shidou. What was your life like before Blue Lock?”

You can’t help being curious. Are his parents negligent or something? No sane adults would let their kid develop the habit of screaming random shit while naked every morning. You hate to admit it, but you’re concerned about him.

“No use thinkin’ about boring stuff like that.”

Makes sense he’d be a live in the moment type of person. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess dwelling on the past is pretty peasant-like.”

You smile at each other in agreement, though you’re on the same page for reasons so different, someone might wonder how you’re even managing a civil conversation.

___

“What’re you doing?” Shidou asks, resting his foot on the corner of the coffee table with his phone in hand, scrolling.

On the other end of the couch, you’re slouching and balancing a few cards from the deck you stumbled on while looking for tools to fix the door with. You’ve learned an important lesson: chisels and pry bars don’t just lie around rented apartments, waiting for someone to use them.

“I’m turning over a new leaf, so I’ve decided to rediscover patience and peace,” you say with a close-eyed smile.

The load of bullshit you uttered fuels some curiosity in Shidou, so he peeks at you over his phone case. This fake ass smile doesn’t suit you at all. You look like you don’t have a soul.

He slides closer to you inch by inch, moving his leg with himself, until he is close enough for you to see what he’s doing in your peripheral vision. Not about to let him ruin your hard work, you swat away his foot with the back of your hand, but the quick movement upsets the three pyramids and the card on top of them, sending them all toppling down.

Shidou cheers when you flip the table.

___

You’re lazing around on your bed when Shidou struts up to you with a triumphant aura. “Y’know that little problem we had? I solved it,” he announces.

You perk up, eyes shining. “You’re gonna stop screaming every morning?” You don’t even care about him being naked anymore. His ritual interrupts your sleep so often that it’s affecting your mood tracker, always starting the day off with an angry swearing red emoji.

“No, I meant the sink.”

True. You avoid making eye contact with it since it’s overflowing. In a technical sense, you know how to wash them, so it’s not incompetence that’s driving you to allow this to go on. But it’d be an act of subservience since Shidou also throws his dirty dishes in there, and you’re not going to do his chores. You will make him understand who’s the bigwig here, even if you have to eat without a plate by the end of this lesson you’re teaching him.

He continues, “You’re pretending you don’t like waking up to my angelic voice now?” Then clears his throat, not leaving you any time to reassure him you’re not faking your distaste for his idiocy.

You interrupt him and cut off the fifth tone deaf ‘la.’ “So, you finally washed them?”

“What?” Shidou asks, raising his eyebrows like your assumption is nonsensical. “I threw them off the balcony. Now there aren’t any more of ‘em to get dirty.”

He looks so proud of himself — while also clearly realizing you’re on the brink of a breakdown, if his manic grin is anything to go by — and you want to puke. Theatrically, you roll off and fall, hoping to hit your head and get a life-threatening concussion, but for better or for worse, nothing of the sort happens.

You can imagine him aiming at people with forks from above.

When you remain still for a while, Shidou nudges you like one might do to fresh roadkill with a long stick from a safe distance. “You there? Are you hibernating or something? Blink twice if you died.”

___

Your recovery lasts several hours, during which you do nothing but lie on the floor.

Once out of your stupor, you head to the kitchen to mourn your loss (not of the dishes, but for your inability to get Shidou to do them), perhaps to gaze out of the window with a wistful sadness in your eyes. It takes you a few morose steps to realize they’re there, intact. Clean. You blink.

You can be so stupid sometimes.

___

A cockroach crawls out from behind the mirror. You back away, startled by the sudden movement, not realizing what it is you’re seeing at first glance. The real horror starts when you recognize the creature in front of you and shriek in alarm. When it doesn’t produce the desired result, you cave in and yell, “Shidou!”

“D’you want toilet paper?” he asks, his tone way too casual in comparison to yours. You could be dying in here, kidnapped and tortured by the Cockroach King, and you’re convinced Shidou would not give a shit.

“No! Just come in.”

He does. With a roll under his armpit. And then he does nothing to help.

You point at the wall, your index finger accusatory. It hasn’t moved to hide yet, so at least you don’t have to be paranoid about its whereabouts.

“You just strike me as the type of person who’d tell someone to wipe your ass,” he says irrelevantly.

“Kill it!!!” You’re glossing over his apparent willingness to do just that. But your anger dissolves into panic when your imagination comes up with all sorts of alternatives that have you clutching your scalp. It could give birth. Maybe you’d have to be the godparents, babysitting every Saturday.

“Pretentious-chan is not so big and bad anymore.” Shidou pouts, as if disappointed, then grabs it with his bare hand and examines it, making a big deal out of doing so, squinting his eye while widening the other. The insect is squirming in his hold.

“Bro, get rid of it! What if it escapes?!”

He takes a step forward, beaming at you, which you read as a warning sign preceding sinister intentions. Though you want to back away, you’re already standing by the sink, the front digging deeper into your skin. You think to reach out and push him away, but it puts you at risk of coming in contact with it if he lets it loose on accident… or on purpose.

Very slowly, he brings it closer and closer to your face. Your chin is retracting into your neck while you lean back to the best of your ability, and it’s straining your muscles, making you clench your teeth out of both fear and disgust.

“The others call me a cockroach,” Shidou says. “Are we twinning?”

“Stop.”

“C’mon, do we look alike?” He has the audacity to smile, looking all innocent.

One of the antennas almost brushes against your nose. Your brows pinch together, and you’re reaching levels of facial tension you haven’t experienced before, which is impressive considering how many mood swings you flip through on a daily basis.

“Dude, get it away from me,” you beg, borderline crying.

It seems to click in Shidou’s head that this is more serious than your usual tantrums, and he hates to think he’s made you upset on a substantial level, scrambling to crush the roach and flush it away.

You relax from your ‘afraid turtle’ position, straightening your posture to glare at him. Shidou looks at you like a kicked puppy. Even though he knows you don’t have mercy for excuses — valid or invalid — he takes a crack at the worst one. “It was a joke.”

If looks could kill.

“I’m sorry.”

His mumbling is quite pathetic and therefore almost unable to reach your ears (this phrase isn’t really a part of his vocabulary, so it comes out like a foreign tongue twister), but after you make sense of what he said, your lips settle into a phony smile.

“I think it’s unfair the others call you an insect,” you say. “I mean, they’re animals, but you make the conscious decision to be a piece of shit.”

“I’m sooooorry,” he says, this time with more confidence, and tries to catch you in a hug. As if.

“Wash your hands, freak.”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot about touching it already. Oops!”

You massage the bridge of your nose. He’s hopeless.

___

This noon, Shidou is preparing you a salad. You guess it’s a bit lacking, but you only have the tomatoes and the cucumbers and a block of cheese left. You’ve mostly been ignoring him since yesterday and he took matters into his own hands when he realized you were willing to starve over this. The protein bars ran out too, which is a shame since you love throwing them in as a side dish to your cooking.

Shidou liked the spaghetti. There wasn’t any sauce, so he suggested you grate protein bars over it, and you almost vomited after you tasted it. But at least one of you was happy.

You glance at him, mulling over whether you should continue being mad or not. Your wrath doesn’t seem effective on him, so you might need to switch strategies. Though you abandon the train of thought once you see how he’s gripping the knife like a toddler, cutting the vegetables and humming some annoying tune, so you rise from your seat and approach him. “You’re gonna hack your fingers off.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll show you.” You make a ‘gimme that’ gesture and hope it translates well enough.

Instead of passing it over, a gleeful expression takes over his face, and the sight of it disturbs you, since this is how you know he’s about to do something stupid. Your hunch proves correct when Shidou wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you in the air, looking up at you like you hung the moon or some shit, full of wonder. Usually, you’d appreciate people showing you due respect, but you have other concerns right now.

“The knife’s still in your hands, you fucking idiot,” you screech, squeezing his shoulder in alarm. What if he stabs you in the back, on some Julius Caesar shit?

“You’re so mean, but you still worry about me the most out of everyone,” he says, all but shoving his head against your neck, his nose poking your collarbone.

“RELEASE ME.”

You fall on your ass when he does. Shidou’s smile does not slip at the sound of you grunting in pain.

“You’re dangerous,” you say.

“For your heart, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah. I have high blood pressure, so.”

“Oh,” he says.

You pat yourself to brush off imaginary dust and make a big stink out of it, with downturned lips and aggressive motions. Then you ask, “Were you for real?”

“I’m pretty straight-forward,” he tells you as if it suffices.

Again, you hate to admit it, but you feel bad for him, if he perceives you as the one who cares about him the most. After all, you’re not all that kind to him.

___

“Are you awake?” Shidou asks the night before the match.

“No,” you say, continuing to scroll through your phone.

“Ok, listen. Do we share equal power in the relationship?”

“What?”

“Do we: A. work as a team or D. you get angry when I try to make decisions without you???”

“First of all,” you frown, “what the hell are you talking about? Second of all, why are you going from option A straight to option D?! It’s upsetting my balance.”

“I’m trying to see if you’re toxic, so I’m taking this relationship quiz,” he says before pressing something.

There might be some sensitive sort of nerve in your temple which is jumping out right now. “I’m not your lover.”

“Yeah, I know,” Shidou agrees while continuing to do whatever he is doing, not even bothering to conceal it. “I just wanna see.” Then, after more tapping, he lets out a performative gasp. “The quiz is saying you’re a red flag!”

“Shut up.” You throw your pillow at him, though they don’t spend much time together since he flings it back almost immediately. “You are, too.”

“Is it meant to be…?”

“Good night.”

“I thought you were already sleeping,” he lies with a facetious smile on his face. “Red flag, red flag!”

___

Shidou almost breaks out into a sprint, but you pull him back with a handful of his jersey, almost tripping him. “Let’s make a more nonchalant entrance,” you say, even if you don’t need to go out together.

“Huh, why? I wanna go out and play already,” he says, seemingly annoyed, though he does slow down to match your pace, shoving his hands in the sides of his pants from the lack of pockets.

You ignore the action and reply, “Well, I belong on the field and it’s natural I’ll be showing up, so there’s no reason to be too excited about it.”

“What a load of bullshit,” Shidou says, amused. “Are you any good when you’re shooting in the opponent’s net?”

“Guess you need to give me a good show. Otherwise, I start misbehaving when I’m bored.”

“You don’t need to worry about that at all!” Shidou swings an arm around your shoulder with a grin which seems a bit too elated. “Just keep your eyes on me and I’ll get you all excited.”

You’re about to retort with something about how you really doubt it, but grow preoccupied with blowing a kiss at the audience who doesn’t even know who you are. In this moment, Shidou realizes you’re some momentous kind of knobhead. It’s rare he’s the voice of reason, but you’ve given him a few opportunities to act as such the last few weeks.

___

Though Shidou already scored once, you’ve been stuck on defense the whole time, or getting marked by that pesky guy Isagi. You grit your teeth. He’s trying to piss you the fuck off and you know it. He wants you to lose your marbles so you become a liability.

If you have to be honest, you always think of everyone else on the field as an obstacle, even your teammates. You cannot name a point in time when this hasn’t been the case. In high school, you had the best scoring ability on your team, but messed up a lot and couldn’t synergize with the rest of them, and you’d get benched more often than not. And it always drove you crazy how your replacement couldn’t play to save his life, but somehow he was preferable.

Hell, you don’t even like playing most times. Your skin is always itching, giving you this familiar feeling that you’re about to burst into a pile of angry, gory entrails. Everyone else always calls these episodes tantrums or… or other synonymous words, you’re not good with words, but to you, it really feels like Armageddon when you get upset.

You mostly had fun practicing by yourself, kicking the ball on and on, running down the river for hours. It was liberating in a way, with no incompetent midfielder to tell you where you can and can’t shoot from, or missing the spot you’re trying to go for because your plans don’t match, or everyone telling you that you don’t fit in, or any people at all. It’s one big pain in the ass, playing football, but you’re so obsessed with it.

Shidou’s second goal snaps you out of this mulling you were doing. You blink in begrudging amazement. It’s like he took flight, or ascended, or something else dramatic of that nature.

The desire to score and steal the attention from him overwhelms you.

You don’t have to be the one who’s dancing out of sync anymore, if everyone’s going in your tempo. If Itoshi Sae doesn’t mind passing to these bad, bad spots you love so much, you can move freely just like Shidou.

When the ball goes back in play, you stay back and observe for a moment, before diagonally sprinting across the field.

“Hi,” you greet Sendou, before swiping it away from him and kicking it overhead all the way back to your side’s penalty area.

He stares at you in a mix of incredulity and irritation. “We’re on the same team!”

“Aces who can’t score don’t get to question me, okay?”

“You-”

But you’re already running again, continuing the zigzag pattern.

Aiku — who miraculously secures the ball and passes to Sae after your movements put everyone else on the field in disarray — hollers in half amusement, “Where the hell do you think you’re shooting?”

All this stupid fucking noise. ‘Winning’ and ‘losing,’ ‘heroes’ and ‘villains,’ ‘sensible’ and ‘irrational,’ everyone else always lets these plebeian concepts constrain them. Is it such a crime you don’t want to let anyone chain you down?

Sae passes the ball with you back and forth while you cut across the pitch, closing in, confusing and slipping past the defenders with your flitting and nonsensical dribbling. Karasu tries to intercept you, so you kick the ball to Shidou on the opposite wing with Reo breathing down his neck.

He has no choice, but to kick it a few paces ahead of you, where you arrive after shaking off Karasu by jumping around him during the shoulder-to-shoulder tackle.

“Ya move like a dumbass.”

“It’s really not fair when I have to give it back to you,” Shidou joins in on the yelling. By the expression he’s making, you can’t tell if he’s angry or excited. “Tease!”

You’re approaching the goal line, with Blue Lock’s side focusing on blocking you and limiting Sae’s courses. Oh, you can tell he’s gonna give you a really nasty one, so you can’t help but pass it back to him, hoping he can assist you in brute forcing your way through the rabble. Everyone is more or less floundering all the way to the left, drawn to your madness.

It’s kind of sadistic when he has you scrambling for the ball right in the middle of all this mess — unidentified limbs and bodies reaching for it at the same time. You jump and mime a kicking motion before trapping it, lobbing it over your head, then twisting your body in mid-air, viciously striking it into the net with your nondominant foot, right through the clear path where no one is guarding.

“A crazy feint in mid-air?! Against all logic, U-20’s [L/n] [Y/n] secures the goal!”

You land on your back with your legs shooting up in the air. You see Isagi hovering near Shidou, who was wide open. He must’ve been predicting you to give it up. He was reacting to you?

The audience is screaming my name… But right now, I’m just kind of happy to be playing with everyone.

Huh. It’s kind of like you’re practicing by the river again.

___

Sae knows you don’t need much provocation to blow a fuse.

What he doesn’t expect is for you to also be very easy to please.

He also feels like a really big, smelly, juicy slab of meat with two hyenas breathing down his neck, what with Shidou jumping on his back and babbling about something and you taking his hands in yours before kneeling and proclaiming, “Please marry me.”

What the hell?

He wretches his fingers out of your hold, leaving you in the same position since you’re apparently too delusional to stop, huge smile on your face and all despite the rejection. Then he throws Shidou to the ground.

The phone number would cost three points. Sae isn’t sure how much matrimony is worth.

Shidou averts his interest to you, leaving Sae as the witness to whatever embarrassment is about to occur. He grabs you and forces you to stand up.

“Your explosion was the freakiest I’ve seen yet. Ka-boom!”

Is this supposed to be a compliment?

“Are you kidding me, your goal before that got me all fired up.”

Wow, and you, by all accounts a big-headed prick, are returning the kind(?) words.

“Pretty fun, isn’t it?” asks Shidou. “I’m having a blast.”

“I’m so happy and free of restraints, it’s like I’m on acid. No, something stronger. Ecstasy! DMT! PCP! Meth! Feeling this good should be against the rules! They should suspend me for doping!”

“You get me,” Shidou says in astonishment, parting his mouth in surprise. “You totally get me! It’s not something that makes sense! It’s a sensation! A state of existence! Let’s stay in symbiosis forever!”

What the fuck is going on.

You intertwine your fingers with his and proceed to dance by spinning around each other in a circle like some freaks. Sae steps out of earshot inch by inch, fleeing the scene.

___

You’re gathering your things from the apartment since you and Shidou need to leave tonight. You spent two hours trying to DIY fix the balcony door again, but the endeavor was unproductive. For him, the most time-consuming task was retrieving all his products from the bathroom.

“You know, you’re so much fun when you’re in a good mood,” Shidou says, probably still thinking about the match, even though your team didn’t end up winning.

“Hey, Shidou. Do you remember that weird thing you said?”

“What thing?”

God, of course he doesn’t register the shit he spews as abnormal. You roll your eyes. “‘Let’s stay in symbiosis forever.’ Did you mean it?”

“I already told your demented ass I’m pretty straight-forward. I don’t say things just to say them! Get it through your head. Lip service is lame.” You frown and let out a noncommittal hum in response, which makes Shidou nudge you then poke you in the face until you respond. “What’s the matter? You’re not hitting me or screaming, so must be something bad.”

“I’m… I’m alone a lot, and I mean alone, not lonely, don’t get it twisted, so this is a big promise. We’ll have to make a blood pact over it if you’re serious.”

“Hm? Okay.”

“What, really? Just like that?”

“Make it the promise of a lifetime,” he sings, before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer so you’re standing cheek-to-cheek. “You drive my love cells wild.”

The stare you scrutinize him with is one of abject horror.

“Come on, say something.” He starts poking you — this time in the ribs — when you don’t respond for a long time, but his grin settles into a thin line as if he’s possibly afraid he might’ve put you off.

You elbow him in the stomach, which distracts him from the jabbing he was doing, and then your demeanor switches entirely because you smile, point up your index finger and declare, “You know what? I like how enthusiastic you are about me. Let’s get married.”

Shidou bursts out laughing and this is apparently amusing enough for him to forget the way you shoved him back. “You’re kinda intense.”

“Me? Intense? And you aren’t?”

“Nah, I’m pretty chill.”

How you’re both this self-unaware, no one will ever know.

___

y/n to sae: Me and my boyfriend saw u from across the bar and we really like your vibe

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou x reader #blue lock x you

[ineffableducks]

I THINK CROWLEY WAS A SERAPH?????

yes like the seraphim. like the highest order of heaven. like. the angels who have six wings and eyes all over them.

i understand that i probably need to provide evidence even though this is definitely just a headcanon currently. i'm very interested in mythology as a pagan, and i study demonic and angelic hierarchies in my spare time. so this is something i'm very interested in and i feel like i've cracked the case.

SO a couple things from the new season have been making me think that crowley was a rlly high ranking angel.

like we all knew that it was a little weird how he had the power to literally stop time in the first season. and then in this season, we see him literally manufacture star nurseries and nebulas. he's a lot more powerful than he lets on. as someone else described, he's incredibly powerful and being "just some guy" about it.

anyway we get some hints about what level of angel he's at. in the last episode, muriel tells him that only those ranked thrones or dominions or higher can access certain files in heaven. and crowley can.

now quickly, here are the ranks of the angels.

now, higher orders don't necessarily mean they are more powerful. in the context of good omens alone, gabriel is the supreme archangel and the most powerful. and even though principalities (like aziraphale) are ranked closer to god, they are less powerful than archangels.

so yeah crowley totally could have been an archangel, except they're ranked below thrones and dominions which means he couldn't have accessed the files. it doesn't even seem like saraqael could have accessed them, as she just watched even though she is an archangel. so i think crowley once upon a time was a higher rank than an archangel.

so that leaves four candidates. dominions, thrones, cherubim and seraphim. and thanks to a little line in episode 201, i think i've worked it out.

when beelzebub warns crowley about heaven's extreme sanctions, crowley tells them that (paraphrasing), "extreme sanctions aren't a thing. we just made them up to scare the cherubs."

THE CHERUBS. now, the plural of cherub is cherubim, and a cherub is often depicted as a baby angel, with similar iconography to cupid. so it makes sense that he's describing making up a story to scare the baby angels but it ALSO implies that the cherubim were ranked beneath him.

what's the only order of angels above cherubim? seraphim. va-voom.

and in case i need to further prove my case, do you know what the base word for seraphim is? it's the hebrew saraph, which means "burning" and sometimes is used as a noun to denote... "serpent."

i've never really been into the fan theory that crowley was raphael before the fall. and now i don't think i do, mainly because im convinced he was one of the seraphim and raphael is always described as an archangel.

we might never know crowley's angel name, if it was different to his demon one. but i think the main takeaway is that he was a lot more powerful than first impressions might serve.

#good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #go2 #gos2 #good omens season 2 #good omens fan theory #fan theory #angelology #angels #david tennant #neil gaiman #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #ineffable spouses #pre fall crowley

[aotearoa20]

*sits up suddenly* Buzzfeed Unsolved/Ghost files style au with all the Sons of Fëanor! They don’t all show up every episode but they are all involved in production and go to different haunted sites to look for ghosts!

Featuring:

Maedhros ‘a ghost could backflip me down the stairs and I’d say it was the wind’ Nelyafinwë

Maglor ‘the wind could knock a tube of toothpaste off the sink and I’d say it was a ghost’ Kanafinwë

Celegorm ‘secretly a demon and doing the bare minimum to hide it’ Turkafinwë 

Caranthir ‘of course ghost don’t exist oh no oh f*ck what was that!!?!?’ Morifinwë

Curufin ‘of course ghosts exist but here’s all the reasons these other ghost hunters evidences suck’ Curufinwë 

Amrod ‘I suggested this as a joke to deal with my grief of losing my twin brother and it just got out of hand’ Ambarussa

Amras ‘an actual ghost trying to get his families attention with ghostly shenanigans that they. miss. every. time.’ Ambarussa

#guess what I’ve been watching to recover from term two uni #buzzfeed #sons of feanor #maedhros #maglor #caranthir #celegorm #amrod and amras #curufin #silmarillion #tolkien #buzzfeed au #ghost hunter au

[lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe]

Personnel Files [IKYLHT]

Series Masterlist | Next: 141 & Rabbit Headcanons

-

Name: [REDACTED]

Callsign: Highwater (formerly), Rabbit

Rank: Gunnery Sergeant (E-7)

Occupation: Demon Dogs Operative, 0251 MOS Interrogator/Debrief Specialist

Affiliations: United States Marine Corps (formerly), Demon Dogs, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 26yr Female, 172cm, ‘Heavily’ Tattooed

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm. 

Note: Physical Examination cut short, patient held overnight in medical ward after severely injuring nurse practitioner. Sudden unprompted hysteria after [REDACTED], patient forcefully restrained. Absence of physical response to constraints- ceased movement and allowed for further restriction of movement in accordance to protocol. Negative emotional response to constraints- immediate increase in hysteria, cowering in expected physical harm, patient proceeded to [REDACTED], refused medical treatment. Evidence of trauma-response based attack. Unknown psychological trigger. Incident Number 9836573.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm. 

Note: Recalled to active duty following brief unauthorized leave of absence after covert operation in [REDACTED], Mexico. Patient requested base transfer upon return, application denied until documentation of post-mission evaluation was received. Patient agreed to undergo aforementioned evaluation, halted after [REDACTED], Incident Number 9836573. Patient attended recommended Cognitive Processing Therapy following incident. Currently attending 1-1 Psychotherapy, prescribed Venlafaxine. Patient granted permission by PhD. Harrison to avoid medical institutions unless warranted by life-threatening illness or injury. 

-

Name: John ‘Johnny’ MacTavish

Callsign: Soap

Rank: Sergeant (E-5)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Sniper and Demolitions Expert

Affiliations: SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 26yr Male, 183cm, Medium Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, Various Tattoos on Arms

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm. 

Note: Patient reports noticeable decline in migraine and fatigue following tinnitus treatment, as previously prescribed. Patient was recommended the continuation of such methods- avoiding caffeine and nicotine, limiting salt intake, increasing vitamin B12, and following proper PPE protocols.

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

-

Name: Simon Riley

Callsign: Ghost

Rank: Lieutenant (O-2)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Sabotage and Infiltration Expert

Affiliations: SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 192cm, Dark Blonde Hair, Brown Eyes, Half-Sleeve Tattoo on Right Forearm, Skull Plate Face Covering [On-Mission], Balaclava Face Covering [Off-Mission On-Base]

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient’s routine psychological evaluation is past-due. Clear for active duty, ordered to schedule annual check-up eval at earliest convenience. When questioned, patient admits to decline in attendance of 1-1 Psychotherapy regarding [REDACTED]. Declines request for therapy and/or medication regarding childhood PTSD. Declines request for medication regarding [REDACTED].

-

Name: Kyle Garrick

Callsign: Gaz

Rank: Sergeant (E-5)

Occupation: SAS Operative, Weapons Tactics and Covert Surveillance Expert

Affiliations: British Army (formerly), SAS, SAS Domestic Counter-Terror Program, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 24yr Male, 180cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient reports continued migraine and light sensitivity post-concussion. Prescribed Topiramate to manage temporary symptoms. Screened for excessive bleeding and hemorrhaging, no evidence of prolonged injury post blunt force trauma found. 

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

-

Name: Jonathan ‘John’ Price

Callsign: Bravo 0-6

Rank: Captain (O-3)

Occupation: 22nd SAS Regiment Captain, Close Quarter Battle Specialist, Seek-and-Strike Expert

Affiliations: British Army (formerly), SAS, Coalition, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 36yr Male, 185cm, Medium Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, Full Beard

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient was recommended the use of Cyclobenzaprine for continued back pain and muscle spasms, denied fulfilling prescription due to inability to consume nicotine or alcohol while on medication. 

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient was recommended the use of Nitrazepam to provide short-term relief from severe anxiety and insomnia while off-duty, denied fulfilling prescription due to sedative properties and possibility of impaired judgment or coordination in the event of an unscheduled call back to base. 

-

Name: Alejandro Vargas

Callsign: N/A

Rank: Colonel (O-6)

Occupation: Mexican Special Forces Operative, Leader of Los Vaqueros

Affiliations: Mexican Army (formerly), Los Vaqueros, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 186cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Arm Tattoos

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient recommended continuation of physical therapy for affected shoulder. 

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient noted displaying uncharacteristic signs of high stress. Unknown stress trigger. Recommended self-treatment: elimination of nicotine and caffeine from diet, substitution of herbal teas and remedies. Patient admitted as to previously declining aforementioned recommendations, notes having implemented recommendations under the order/care of [REDACTED]. Follow-up advised.

-

Name: Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra

Callsign: N/A

Rank: Sergeant Major (E-9)

Occupation: Mexican Special Forces Operative, Los Vaqueros Second-in-Command

Affiliations: Mexican Army (formerly), Los Vaqueros, Task Force 141

Identifiers: 28yr Male, 181cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Arm and Chest Tattoos

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: - -

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: Patient noted displaying signs of high stress, declined additional optional psychological screenings. Recommended time off-duty to mitigate stress, patient denied ability to leave base for extended periods of time.

-

Name: N/A

Callsign: Konig

Rank: Oberfeldwebel [Staff Sergeant, Technical Sergeant]

Occupation: KorTac Operative

Affiliations: Kommando Spezialkräfte (formerly), KorTac

Identifiers: 27yr Male, 198cm, Blue Eyes, Sniper Veil Face Covering

Physical Assessment: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: N/A

Psychological Evaluation: Determined Fit for Duty: Affirm.

Note: N/A

-

Name: Valeria Garza

Callsign: El Sin Nombre

Rank: N/A

Occupation: Leader of Las Almas Cartel, KorTac Operative

Affiliations: Mexican Special Forces (formerly), KorTac

Identifiers: 28yr Female, 168cm, Dark Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Various Tattoos on Arms

Physical Assessment: N/A

Psychological Evaluation: N/A

-

<3

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john price #john price x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #jonathan price #jonathan price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #poly141 #poly!141 #poly141 x reader #poly!141 x reader #soap x gaz x reader #ghost cod

[dahliamalfoy97]

CLEANSED- Douma x reader

Word count: 2,351

Warnings: 18+ smut, mdni, slight dub con, degradation, swearing, lots of unholy acts. Make sure to drink lots of holy water before you begin 😉

Douma Priest AU

——

As you enter the doors to the church, a sense of comfort washes over you. You immediately go to your usual spot up at the front. You just had to be near him at all times. You were running a bit later than usual so the sermon had already started.

Father Douma glared at you slightly before continuing with his sermon. You just sent him a wink, before taking out your Bible. Pretending to follow what he was reading but all you could do was take him in.

He was the reason you attended.  Not for the sermon but to see him. He was always so animated in the way he preached and you couldn't help but watch with pure fascination and admiration.  Your desire for him had grown over the past years. And all you wanted was for him to cleanse you in the most unholy of ways.

You always came dressed in a short dress that barely came past your thighs, and every time he'd found you with those rainbow colored eyes, you always had to clench your thighs together. He was just so sexy.

Finally the sermon came to a close.

"Y/N if you could stay behind and help me clean up that would be great," his rainbow irises flash to mine, as everyone begins to file out of the sanctuary.

"Of course, Father. I'd be happy to help."

You go to start picking up any trash off the floors, "this is your punishment for being late today,," you turn around to find Douma staring at you with dark eyes.

"I'm sorry Father, it won't happen again."

He comes to stand behind you watching you as you bend down to pick up a Bible off the floor next to the altar. "Why were you late today, Y/N? You're never late."

"Sorry i was just super tired this morning, I slept in a little late."

"Just don't do it again, or I'll have to punish you and I don't want to have to punish my most devoted follower."

You go to stand up, but a hand snakes around your waist, locking you against his front side. One of his hands wraps around your chin and forces you to look at him.

"I think you're lying to me," And your breath catches in your throat at the way he stares at you. "And lying is a sin, so tell me why were you really late today."

You swallow the urge to moan at dominating way he held you, he was so tall and you were so small in comparison. You wondered just how big he was.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Father. I would never lie to you."

His eyes narrow before shifting into a smile, "it's okay I'll just have to cleanse it out of you huh? I'll make you confess your sin to me."

With that he's pushing your front against the altar, your ass is being pushed up, and your legs being spread out.

You're eyes widen when you feel him ripping your dress in half, leaving you bare.

He smirks, "I knew you didn't have any panties on, because you're a desperate little slut that needs to be taught a lesson."

He runs a large hand along your ass before lifting it and bringing it down harshly. You jolt and gasp at the harsh sting.

A finger caresses your slit, he groans when he feels how sinful you really are.

"Of course you'd get off on that, like a naughty slut you are," then he slaps your ass again and this time I let out a whimper. And he spins me around to where I'm facing him, splayed out on the altar, soaked with desire for him. His grin widens, and he know longer looks like angel, he looks like a demon ready to devour his prey as lust is evident in his rainbow eyes. "Now tell me, why were you late to my service today?"

He kneels in between my legs and runs a finger along my slit, he eyes me intently.

"I- I told you I was tired -"

Slap.

Another harsh sting against my throbbing clit.

"Lies," he chastises, before sinking a finger past my velvet walls. "I can feel your deceit on my finger."

You can't help but moan as he begins to thrust his long finger in an out of you while his thumb plays with your clit.

"And fuck, are you soaked," he then adds another finger, and then a third, stretching me out even more, "I bet you taste as sinful as you look. You need to be cleansed of your sins, desperately."

With that his mouth descends onto you, and he begins to feast on you, his tongue flicking your clit and sucking on it in the most delicious ways, while continuing to finger fuck you with his fingers. You were in utter heaven at the way this man devoured you so hungrily. You can't help but let out a moan and throw your head back at the overwhelming sense of pleasures. But before you could close eyes your head is being yanked forward, forcing you too look into his eyes.

"Don't you dare look close your eyes," he growls against my pussy, "eyes on me, slut."

His free hand travels down to my breast, pinching my nipple causing me to moan even louder.

"Fuck, Father. Don't stop." He slaps my pussy again, "

"It's Master to you," he demands.

His assault on my pussy becomes more harsher, faster turning me into a squirming, whimpering mess. I realize he is still fully dressed in his priest clothes while I'm completely naked. Which makes me even more wet at how filthy this act is. The holy priest is eating me out on an alter while his fingers are fûcking me brutally.

"Fuck you taste so filthy on my tongue, so sinful and sweet," he groans. "I can't wait to fuck you."

His fingers quicken their pace, continuing to stretch me out, I could feel a warmth taking over me and my legs begin to shake, but then he's standing up before I can finish. And I whimper at the denial of my orgasm.

"M- Master - why did you stop-"

He just laughs, clicking his tongue, "oh no, this isn't for pleasure sweetheart, this a punishment for you. For continuing to lie to me." He once again forces me to turn around so that I'm kneeling over the altar, my arms are yanked behind me, as he removes his tie and binds them together, "but if you confess your sins, I'll reward you."

You can't help but smirk at him with defiance, "I am honestly telling you the truth, Master."

He tsks at me, before pulling my legs apart tying them something I can't see.

"Well if you continue to lie, you won't get what you want," he leaves me tied up to the altar. He disappears before reappearing behind me. Darkness clouds my vision as a blindfold is being tied around my eyes. Something is being pushed past my folds. Something hard. And then it begins vibrating against inside me, thrusting in out of me while something latches onto my clit, causing me to cry out at the overstimulation.

Somewhere nearby I hear laughter, "look at you turning into a filthy mess. You're making a mess all over my altar."

"Please Master," you whimper as orgasm after orgasm wracks through your body as the vibrator's speed picks up. 

"Please what?" He sneers, as he's got his cock pulled out and he's jerking himself off as he watches you being abused by the toy that's fucking you so brutally.

He never was a priest. Just a demon in disguise, he got off on making people suffer. But you, you were his most devoted follower and he wanted you as his personal fuck toy. And he knew you wanted this too, he saw your dirty thoughts that always went through your mind when you attended his services. He noticed the short dresses you wore for him. And he could always smell your arousal. He knew how much you craved him. How far you'd go to please and serve him.

"Please fuck me," you sobbed in pleasure. Body shaking as another orgasm takes over. "I need you to fuck me master, I'll do anything."

"Confess your sins and I'll reward you."

She sobs, "I  touching myself thinking about you this morning, that's why I was late. I've just wanted to fuck me. You're all I ever think about."

Douma laughs, "see that wasn't so hard. Now I can give you what we both want. And you can stop being a brat."

Suddenly I feel the vibration stop and he pulls the toy out of me. I hear rustling before I feel something poking at my entrance. Before I can get a word out, it slams into me, causing me to scream. Douma's cock spears your pussy open, not caring if it bleeds. Not giving you a moment to adjust as he begins to thrust into you hard and fast.

"Fuck you are so tight, Y/N, soo perfect for my cock."

The blindfold comes off and your head is yanked back, he kisses you hungrily and sloppily, swirling his tongue with yours. Swallowing the moans the keep falling from your mouth as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. His cock going deeper and deeper with each thrust.

His hand goes around your neck, choking you slightly, causing you to clench around his cock.

"Is it's too much," you sob, overwhelmed at being manhandled. You never imagined the priest to be so rough and dirty. But it turned you on.

He slaps your ass, "you can take it."

You can feel your climax building again, the hard slaps of his skin against yours and the way he fucked you was becoming too much. But it all felt so good, you could feel your stomach coiling and your walls tightening.

"M-master I'm going to cum."

"Say you're sorry for lying to me, and I might just let you come," he slaps me again, his hand tightens around my neck again and I want so desperately to cling on to something.

"I'm sorry", I sob, "I'm sorry for lying."

He grins madly, "good girl, now you may come. Go ahead and make a mess all over my cock."

But his thrusts don't slow down he continues to fuck me as hard as he can, his tip constantly brushing my spot repeatedly.

"Come all over my cock like the filthy slut you are!"

He chokes you even harder pushing you over the edge and you come undone all over his cock.

"That's a good little slut," he praises. "But I'm not done cleansing you just yet."

He quickly pulls out, and unties all of your bindings. He carries you over to a pew, sets you down and quickly strips out of his clothes. Your jaw drops at how gorgeous he is underneath, making you wet again. Then he picks you up at sets you on his lap.

"I want you to ride me,"

You nod weakly, your whole body ached from the many orgasms you had, but you still wanted more.

You straddle him and reach to take his cock and slide it into your entrance, his cock splitting you in a new way as you sink down on him. You whimper at his thickness as it seemed even bigger than before.

"Y-you're so big," you babble.

"And you're soo tiny," he mocks, "who knew someone so tiny as you would be able to to take a big cock so well. Or maybe it's just my cock. Huh?"

"Just your cock," I nod frantically, beginning to bounce up and down his shaft, using his rosary to cling on too as his cock split your walls in two, turning you into a jumble of whimpers. "Feels too good."

He chuckles "that's right, just my cock can make you feel this good," his chuckles turn into low moans as you quicken your pace. Your walls tightening around him with each grip.  "This pussy is mine, you hear?"

But your too lost in how well he fills you up, the way he takes your breasts into his mouth sucking on them and so cock drunk, that you just nod.

He sinks his teeth around to it nipple causing you to cry and arch into him, "answer me," he growls, your blood dripped from his mouth and it turns you on even more at the sight.

"Yes this pussy is yours and only yours Master!"

He laughs against your nipple, before releasing it and flipping you over, and begins pounding you into the pew.

"Fuck don't stop Douma!"

He stills, " say that again."

"Douma," you plead "don't stop."

He laughs, "I love hearing my name come out of your mouth. It belongs there as I fuck you dumb."

He leans down and connects your lips with his, you moaning at how soft it is before turning hungry and completely devouring you whole. Just as he was with his cock.

Your nails scratch along his back, drawing blood and in return he bites down on your lip.

The action has you falling apart immediately.

"I'm going to fill you up with my cum. Breed this little cunt of yours so deep, it'll always stay with you. Maybe I'll put a baby in you. How does that sound?"

"Yes, Douma, fill me up," you're practically babbling, totally fucked out and incoherent.

He gleams at your incoherent state, then his thrusts become sloppier and his grunts become weaker. Soon he's releasing into you. You feel his hot cum filling you up, "that's it take all of my cum."

He watches in satisfaction as your cunt is filled with his cum, to wear its dripping. Before pulling out.

He leans down and kisses you softly, "you did so good for me."

You just nod tiredly.

He chuckles, “now that I’ve purified your body, let’s get you cleaned up.”

#douma x you #demon slayer #douma x reader #kimetsu no yaiba douma #douma smut

[gusherbug]

SUPERVILLAIN FILE, ONLY FOR AUTHORIZED USE BY SUPORG (GREATER SUPERHERO ORGANIZATION):

BLASTPHEMY:

As of [X-XX-XX], Blastphemy is no longer Seafoam Class and has been reclassified to an active supervillain with a Magenta Class rating.

Blastphemy's civilian name, origins, and motivations have not been uncovered yet.

Blastphemy is a demolition and explosives expert, with an unknown certification. She claims to have been born a demon, but saw the light and bettered herself and became a preacher. Evidence against her suggests that she has never read The Bible, though she says otherwise. After being asked to recite a verse, Blastphemy tried to pull a grenade on our reporter squad.

She has a peculiar vocal quirk where it's as if she is trying to swear profusely, but can only seem to say the "clean" versions of those words. Our reporter squad asked why this was, to which Blastmephy responded "GET THE HECK OUT OF MY FACE YOU GOSHDARN LITTLE BUTTS!!! YOU'RE REALLY FRIKKIN' TICKIN' ME OFF!!!"

An anonymous source later confirmed she did not always talk this way, citing that she "tried to curse herself into cursing less, but she did it wrong and now she can't cuss at all".

There are currently ties to Doctor Shelly L'Incarnat that are being investigated.

#ocs #oc #SHE'S ALIVE! #superhero ocs #blastphemy