Guys Im Trying To Edit My Posts To Where When I Add An Image It Wont Be Stretched Out So Much But I Dont

WGAHSHAHH)DNEOCBROWNXOhsisjodh8hHEKEKFNW!!!!

HIM IN THE LIVE WIRE MUSIC VIDEO!!

felt like dying when i read this but VMPRYIAs WRITNG >>

ok respectfully you’re writing is absolutely ethereal😭. Anyways I have a prompt that may get you to write something for the SF fandom (I’m very fixated on it and I can’t find decent content lol)

~ok so yk how Sal is on that killing spree to free everyone from the red eyed demon thing? What if the reader had been living there and now he has to kill them? Idk I just feel very angsty today

(have a lovely day 💜)

SAL FISHER X READER: the end.

i am putting a gun to my head, this was agony. i did some small research on how it feels like to be stabbed so my description is a bit detailed. i tried to expand on the feelings sal felt as he did this :( i hope i did the scene justice and i hope you enjoy! reblogs & replies help me be motivated!

TW — murder, blood, depictions of stabbing and death. angst.

sal’s chest felt heavy.

this felt like a scene straight from his nightmares, but no — it was real.

his eyes were clouded with tears, his lip quivering. his tears stained his skin and the inside of his prosthetic. he stood over the corpse of soda and faced chug’s bloodied corpse.

“i—i’m sorry.” sal stuttered.

in his hand he held the knife.

he wanted to die, he wanted to stab himself just like how he stabbed the others.

first, he lost larry. larry, his best friend. his brother. the demon was beginning to take over him leading him to do the did the only thing he could — drank himself to death to avoid having his soul taken away from him.

then, terrance.

the little boy broke the heartbreaking reality to him.

to save them all, he had to kill them.

sal didn’t want to, he didn’t want to hurt them. his friends, his family.. but, it was either save them by killing them or lose them to the demon’s power.

the world wouldn’t understand, but at least he did. at least he knew that this was the easy way out.

sniffling, he stumbled to the door of chug’s apartment and then walked out.

his grip on the knife was tight, the the sudden realization of what was next almost made his collapse.

you.

you were next on his list, you.

his girlfriend, his everything, his confidant. you. he had to kill you next.

his stomach twisted, the anxiety, the fear, the grief, the pain. it was all too much, he felt nauseous, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

he wanted to be with his mom.

he wanted to be cradled by her, to have his face pressed against his mother’s chest as he wept away the fear of this nightmare. he wanted her to gently pet his hair and reassure him — ‘it was just a nightmare, dear. it’s okay, mommy’s here and she’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.’

but no, his mom wasn’t there. she wasn’t going to hold him, she wasn’t going to tell him he would be okay. she wasn’t there.

and now, you weren’t going to be there either.

you had been the one he cried to when he felt the grief of his mother’s passing, you had been there. you had always been there. you listened to him, you held him, you cried with him.

and now he was going to lose you.

who was he going to cry to after this? his dad is dead, larry is dead, you’ll be dead soon. who was going to hold him and reassure him he did the right thing?

you weren’t gone yet, but he was already mourning.

the walk to your apartment felt like he was walking to his doom, which honestly felt like he was.

he had sobbed as he went up to the floor you lived in, he moved his prosthetic to wipe his tears and now he was in front of your apartment door.

it was time.

opening the door with the spare key you had gifted him during your first year anniversary, sal stepped inside.

the apartment smelled like you, he could smell the sweet candles you had set up around the house, they were vanilla scented.

he always loved the smell of your apartment.

“hello?” you called from your bedroom.

sal froze at the sound of your voice, soft and his favorite. he loved your voice, he could fall asleep to you just rambling.

you entered the front area and saw sal, a bright smile spread on your lips almost immediately. “sal!” you said happily.

you could tell he didn’t seem lively, the knife was in his back pocket, hidden from your view.

looking at his hands, you saw the blood that stained them, then you noticed a bit of blood on his mask. “sal?!” you said in alarm, walking closer. “are you hurt? are you okay? what happened?” you asked, concerned for him.

he’s going to miss you, so, so much.

he was going to miss the way you smiled, the way your eyes crikled, the way you pursed you lips when you focused on something, your laugh, the way you lit up the room, your hair, you skin, your style, your art, your music taste, your everything.

he was going to miss how you always shared snacks with him, how you always called him at night while he was in the suburbs, how you would arrange study dates. how you would hold his hand tightly and point out every single thing you liked, how you cared about him.

he was going to miss how you—

“sal?” you asked, standing in front of him , your eyebrows furrowed up in worry for his wellbeing.

he wasn’t going to miss this, what he was going to do to you.

“i love you.” sal said, his hand reaching to his back pocket.

you laughed, “i love you too! what’s happening?” you smiled, an eyebrow raised in confusion. sal’s hand gripped the base of his knife.

“please forgive me.” he whispered, you could feel his heavy gaze behind his mask, the way his voice cracked, was he crying?

you looked down at his hand, watching as it reached for the back of his pocket, you then saw the blade that peaked from behind him, stained and bloodied.

you stepped back, “sal? sal— what..what is going on?” you asked, letting out a nervous laugh as you stepped away from him.

you heard a muffled sob come from him, “please, y/n. please forgive me, this is the only—way.” he said, you could hear the pain behind his voice, he was now gripping the knife by his side.

“the only way for what? sal, s—sal, please put the knife down, what’s going on?” you asked frantically as you tried to step away from him.

sal’s vision was cloudy from the tears, his already broken heart shattering as he watched the fear in your eyes. “the d—demon, it..i need to save you, please..” he sobbed, stepping closer.

you pressed against the wall and watched desperately as sal stalked closer to you.

“i love you, y/n.” sal whispered.

he stood in front of you, his shoulders shook as you stared at him. you were at a loss for words, your eyes were wide in fear, tears quietly streamed down your cheeks.

sal’s grip on the knife got tighter, his knuckles turning white. “say it back—“ he sobbed, “p—please, say you love me.” he cried.

he was begging, pleading for you to say your words to him.

“s—sal—“ you stuttered fearfully, “i love y—you, i always have.” you sobbed, your gaze moving down to his knife.

“please don’t—“ you pleaded, sal gulped and shook his head. “i know it might not look like it..b-but i’m saving you, i promise.” he stumbled.

he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t have the strength to lift the knife and puncture your stomach.

you stared at him fearfully, you never understood much of the paranormal activity, you only knew a surface level of information, but you trusted him.

how silly.

he’s about to kill you, but you trusted his word. he had always been the person you most relied on.

a sudden punch was felt against your abdomen.

one, and another, and another.

you didn’t register the fact he had stabbed you yet, the adrenaline rush hiding the agonizing pain that would soon take over.

looking down, you watched as sal removed his knife from your stomach. your blood was oozing out, staining your clothes and then you felt it—

it felt like a searing pain in your skin, your organs had ruptured at the impact and now you were left in agony.

a choked cry left your lips as you tried to cradle your wounds, your knees feeling weak, and then your screamed. a gurgly guttural scream, one that displayed the agony you felt as your wounds seared.

you collapsed on the floor with a heavy thud.

sal stood over you, he was taking off his prosthetic.

dropping it down to the floor, he sank down to his knees and he was quick to hold you. he could feel your warm blood staining his shirt as he held you.

your hearing was muffled, you couldn’t make out what he was saying, you could hear your blood streaming through your body and your pulse.

it hurt so much you couldn’t even speak.

your breathing got fast, you felt yourself gasping for air. your chest hurt, you couldn’t breathe— your mouth began to fill with a metallic liquid.

blood began to spill from your mouth, your coughs were gurgled.

your body was moving with every sob that came from sal. his grip on your was deadly. he didn’t want to let go, he wanted to savor the warmth of your body one last time.

now he was weeping, his sobs were loud and guttural, he wanted you back. he wanted you to hold him, to tell him you were fine.

he had envisioned himself growing old with you.

he even thought about marrying you when he finished his studies, he wanted to have a family with you. it all sounded so stupid now, but he was envisioning the life he could’ve had with you.

he babbled various ‘i love you’s’ as he held you.

his voice was muffled for you.

you were so tired.

your eyes got heavy, your strength was depleted. you didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to speak.

you couldn’t.

it hurt, everything hurt so much.

your airways filled with mucus, your breathing got nasally and scratchy.

you weakly held sal’s hand for one last time and then your eyes slipped shut.

two more breaths passed and suddenly it all stopped.

sal sore that time stopped.

your grip stopped and your body went limp.

looking down at you, sal let out a sob, his face was tear-filled and red. his heart was broken.

first his mom, then larry, then his dad and lisa, everyone — and finally you.

the people he most deeply cared about were gone, and it was all because of him. he did this, the guilt that overcame his body was immense. he thought about stabbing the knife deep into his abdomen and twisting it, to feel the same pain you felt.

but he was scared.

deep down, he was just a small child, one that grew up alone, the only people that accepted him were gone.

now, he was left alone.

just how it started.

NIKKI SIXX and TOMMY LEE Jack Daniels drink off, Bass Solo + Ten Seconds to Love (THE DIRT) (youtube.com)

this FUCKING VIDEO.

THIS VIDEO DOES THINGS TO ME.

GODDDD

nikkis bass solo... it does things to me you guys dont understand

AND THEYRE SINGING ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOTLEY SONGS OF ALL TIME. HSWUILHABFHWUIX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GUYS I LOVE YHE CROW SO MUCH ITS MY FAVORITE MOVIE EVER (1994 VERSION ONLY!!!!!)

EEIC DRAVEN MY BABY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU DESERVE TO WORLD MY LOVEEE

So I might have watched the Crow.... and I might have read the comics... and I might have made a 3 hour playlist... and I cannot stop thinking about Eric Draven. Just can't. Look at him

This man is a feminist. This man blew up a pawn shop to get an engagement ring back. This man is a metal guitarist which means you KNOW he's good with his hands. This man is canonically SO horny and SO sad. He aches. He laid down on his fiancée's grave and never intended on moving ever again. He has a cat named Gabriel because Shelley wanted a cat. This man is a protector of children who believes that recovery is possible. This man kills abusers violent criminals. He just fuckin. Recites contextually applicable poetry before murdering bad guys.

Eric Draven does not ever let anyone feel unsafe, especially not you. You're not afraid to go out at night or walk home anymore. You see crows and you know you're safe. You hear metal guitar coming from some rooftop in the distance and you know he's got you. He never lets you think anything is meaningless or trivial, he cares about details, your details. Your little thoughts and ideas and dreams. He is not ever going to let you feel pain again. Your safety, the safety of innocent people, of women and children and victims is not something he fucks around with. He is something you can count on.

guys I don’t know what to write AUGHH………

working on a sick!reader x Hobie fic but I dunno how to feel about it so far LOLLL

cryin !!

| 🧟

𝑹⛧𝑻 .ᐟ.ᐟ . . . ⋆.˚ Hispanic. any pronouns.

٠ ࣪. GREEN DAY brainrotter.

ִ ࣪. BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG MY LOVE!

please don’t take my stories and post them elsewhere. appreciate my works !

—> ACCOUNT RULES!

—> MASTERLIST

what if I write smth abt gojo being a mean, teasing little shit but once you get him to bed he’s a whiny, sobbing bitch.

My mind is running with ideas

meow.

Motley Crue did an interview not too long ago for the new tour and dogs of war and the interviewer was talking about staying in shape and you could see Vince immediately knew not to say anything

I’m sorry it took my forever to respond to this😞😞I’ve tried to find the video to watch it but idk if im slow or stupid but I can’t find it

BUT I CAN IMAGINE IT AND IT HURTS MY HEART

Vince dosent deserve all the fat jokes dude.. leave the man alone!!💔💔

red haired Nikki will always have a special place in my heart..

Nikki i love you nikki

My ask is so packed with requests for Nikki from different eras. I often post posts with him, but anyway