LOTS OF GOOD OLD FASHIONED CHAOS

anonymous said... hey bj! i gotta joke for you! what has more limbs than it should, color changing hair, and people who love him? a millipede with hair dye, cause it sure ain't you.

        “hilarious. you must think you’re really funny don’tcha? well, you can take your joke and shove it up your ass.”

anonymous said... hey, bj, does it bother you that your boyfriend still doesn't care what you want? he's obviously only in love with you because he feels like he owes it to you for killing him. i mean, the proposals you dont want now that he's dead, finally calling you by the kiddie version of your name as soon as you like the one he called you, the sweetness when you never liked domestic stuff... he's obviously never loved you, so it's gotta be an petty i-owe-you thing, right?

          “it doesn’t matter.” what a terrible way to exist, isn’t it? to be so hopelessly in love with someone so terrible, someone who treats you like garbage and yet you still trail after him like a puppy that just won’t stay down when kicked, craving any attention he’ll give, good or bad. someone needs to get him out of this situation, and soon. but who could do that? there’s no one. because you have no friends, no one who cares about you. you don’t even interact with anyone except your god damn once-human boyfriend. “he’s trying. he’s doing what he thinks i want. its not his fault that i don’t know what i want.” always making excuses for him, because you refuse to entertain the idea that he might just be stringing you along. “if he didn’t love me, he would leave. no one else stuck around. no one else pitied me. so why would he?”

anonymous said... Does it bother you to think about some other demon coercing Skinny into offing herself? Do you ever think about how different things would be if she hadn’t chosen him over you?

        “no.” a blatant lie, but betelgeuse tries to convince himself that it’s true anyway. “what she does with other people is her business, and her decisions are hers to make.” even if she really had no say in her own death by that point anyway. “and she didn’t choose him over me.” oh, now he’s just angry. no, furious. his hair flares a bright red, face taking on a monstrous expression. “she wasn’t given a choice. in any of it. asmodeus is an incredibly powerful demon, a lot stronger than me, and far more powerful than some human girl. it wasn’t a matter of preferring some sexual partner. it was about power and possessiveness, and if i ever encounter the bastard again i will make sure he suffers.”

              he takes a step back, shoulders sagging. “....but i think about it every day. it sucks. it sucks so much. for her, and for me.” it’s like all the fight’s drained out of him now.

anonymous said... You had the opportunity to be alive, and have everything you’ve ver wanted. And someone took that away from you. A CHILD took that away from you. Aren’t you angry? Don’t you wish to seek revenge? I’m sure you’ve killed for less.

       “no.” his voice is quiet, a little dejected. “i mean, for one thing, i can’t. no one’s summoned me since, i can’t do shit just as a ghost.” and he could just leave it at that, a valid excuse, and be done with the whole matter. but anger bubbles up inside him, which was probably the intended effect, if not the expected reason. “but she’s still my best friend.” which is probably a terrible thing to think, considering he’s certain lydia despises him. sure, he saved her life. sure, she even gave him a hug after. but things have never been the same. he’s come around a few times since then. she won’t talk to him.

        “anyway. what would be the point? i saved her life, i literally stood up to the fucking demon ruler of hell or whatever that bitch is calling herself these days, and if i were to kill lydia that would’ve been for nothing. believe me, i don’t take communication with my mother lightly.”

anonymous said... Messing around with that human girl is a waste of time. She’s only got the hots for you because you’re a dead guy willing to scratch her itch for the macabre. It’s not like you’re special, she does that sort of thing all the time with all sorts of dead folks. She’s only good for a short romp in the world of the living, and that’ll pass. She’ll get bored with you, and when she does, she’ll be no good to you alive. Might as well kill her. You’d be doing her and the people around her a favor.

       “seriously?” the retort is flippant, he seems to be unbothered by the remarks, but he can’t help but feel there’s a twinge of truth to them. “that’s the best you can do?” there’s no way. skinny is obsessed with him, she wouldn’t keep summoning him if she wasn’t, and it’s not like all they do is fuck. but... that’s always the point. and he stays to talk because... why? he’s too lonely and pathetic to leave? because he needs her more than she needs him? betelgeuse can’t really imagine any human becoming bored with him, but then again, if she starts to realize he’s as fucked up as she is, she might think he’s not worth the trouble. 

          but something gives him pause, right at the end. because despite the nagging insecurity he now feels, the doubt creeping into his consciousness, he knows that last bit’s wrong. “she’s not gonna die, not by my hand.” and if he has anything to say about it, not be anyone else’s either, not even her own. “she’s better than that. she’s better. she needs to live. she deserves to live.” 

           most of the time, the lives of humans don’t matter to him. he enjoys killing as much as the next demon, is always happy to bring someone to the other side as painfully and gruesomely as possible. but those are people he couldn’t care less about. strangers. betelgeuse knows how much death sucks. life is something he holds as the ultimate achievement. it’s what he’s always strived for. and he’s not going to let someone like her throw it away.

TAGGED BY: stole it TAGGING : be gay do crimes

BOLDED  is  YES italics  is conditional  or partner-dependent  . struck  through  is  A HELL TO THE NO

INCLINATIONS  &  HABITS

submissive   /   dominant  /   prefers  to  top  /   prefers  to  bottom  /   likes to switch /    heterosexual  /  heteroflexible  /    gay  /  lesbian     /    bisexual /   pansexual  /  asexual  /    demisexual  /   enjoys  sex  with  men   /   enjoys  sex  with  women   / enjoys  sex  with  genderfluid  , agender  ,  demigender  ,  or  nonbinary  individuals /  enjoys sex with all genders regardless of how they identify /  enjoys sex with multiple people at a time  /  enjoys intimacy with women /  enjoys  intimacy  with  men   /   enjoys  intimacy  with  genderfluid,  agender,  demigender,  or nonbinary  individuals  / enjoys intimacy with all genders regardless of how they identify / initiates /  waits for partner to initiate /    spits   /   swallows   /  morning  sex  /   night  sex  /  sex any time /    no  sex  drive    /    low  sex  drive (extremely low)    /    average  sex  drive  /  high sex drive /   hypersexual   / fluctuating sex drive

BODY  &  APPEARANCE

slender  build    /    medium  build  /   athletic build  /   muscular  build  /  curvy  build    /   voluptuous build    /  chubby  build  /   wears  boxers   /   wears  boxer-briefs   /  wears  lingerie /   goes commando    /   shaves    /   trims   /  waxes  /  does not shave  /  waxes   /   cup  size  a-c /    cup  size  d-f    /    1-5”  in  length    /   6-9”  in length  /    10”  or  over  in  length    

SOUNDS

silent    /   quiet /   loud /   grows  in  volume  over  time  /  bites  hand  /  bites partner  /  pillow  to  muffle  to  themselves  /  calls  out  partner’s  name /    curses    /    fakes   /  exaggerates   / prefers  a  quiet  partner    /  prefers a loud partner  /  prefers  a  partner  who  grows  in  volume  over  time /  turned on by dirty talk /   turned  off  by  dirty  talk

TURN-ONS  &  KINKS

having their hands pinned  /   pinning their partners hands /   having  their  hair pulled / pulling their partner’s hair  /    being watched ( by their partner ) /   being watched ( by a third party ) /   watching their partner /   receiving oral /   giving  oral  /   giving  praise  /  receiving praise /   biting  or  marking   /  being  bitten  or  marked /   spanking  /   being spanked  /   teasing /    being teased  /  having  toys  used  on  them  /  using toys on their partner  /  giving anal  /   receiving  anal /    choking  /   being  choked    / dirty talk / being tied up / tying their partner up /   being worshipped /  worshipping   their  partner  /  humiliating    /  being humiliated /   degrading  /   being  degraded  / knife  play /  blood  play  /   being pegged /  pegging  their  partner   /   whipping  /    being  whipped

PLACES

At least he picked up on what she was getting at.  He was a demon, and a powerful one at that.  He know about that stuff, respected it.  He was one himself, after all.

As for fucking him up, it was more of a shouting match, mostly in latin.  She wishes she could have gotten her hands on him and tear him apart but the best she could do was give a go at exorcism, a dangerous task when you’re dead yourself.  Her mouth burned for ages after the last time she saw him.

She’s been trying to slow her ‘breathing’ but that isn’t working, losing control like this was so rare and it felt so wrong and she desperately wants to claw all of her skin off.  It’s almost like she’s alive again, and he is there, trying to tell her what to do.  But it isn’t him.  It’s Betelgeuse, beside her so suddenly, holding her face, talking to her.  Her hands come up and grip his.  When he says her name, her real name she tenses up.  She looks even worse.  So many bad memories are tied to that name.  Hours of shouting- the cross shaped scar on her chest burns- it’s a lot.  It’s too much.  She wants to pull away, but she doesn’t.  Her wide eyes close tight though, avoiding his gaze.

“Don’t call me that.”  Her voice breaks, “Please, don’t.”  She can’t recall ever actually telling him her name.  He must have found out, somehow.  Or maybe he’s always known, and just never thought to say it before.  She can’t think about that now.  The rest of his words are reaching her and she is starting to calm down.  She doesn’t go back to her usual, skeleton self, but the bleeding stops, the open slashes replaced with older scars.  She looks like how he knew her, honestly.  “…I’m really fucking traumatized, aren’t I?”  She finally opens her eyes, roughly wiping tears out of them.  “Sorry.. Sorry about that.  I literally haven’t…Talked about any of it.  It’s…It’s fresher than I thought.”

            he’s worried, for a long moment, that he won’t be able to get through to her. that something might happen -- the dead can’t die except by exorcism, but he’s seen things happen to ghouls and demons who do..... whatever this is that’s happening to her. or worse.

               luckily, she seems to focus now, even as much as she dislikes hearing her real name, she seems to be coming back down to earth a bit. he sighs, bowing his head for a moment in relief, and then looking back up at her with a furrowed brow and a concerned expression.

                “this is why i always say it’s better to overshare everything about your life, even if that means locking a thousand people in a room for two hours while you sing and dance and talk about yourself.” he grins, and it’s almost like he’s not talking to her at all, but then his focus is back on her again and it’s fine. 

“I was gonna hock em’ when I ran out of inheritance.” 

“Technically, since I proposed to you, you have to wear the engagement ring.  I don’t have to wear one til’ we actually get married.”  She pokes him in the chest but she obliges him anyway, taking out her dad’s ring and putting it on her own finger.  It’s too big, but she’d rather not wear her mother’s.  “There.  Satisfied?”  

She stares at her own hand for a long time.  Yeah.  This was the weirdest thing, but.  It was happening.  And she… She doesn’t hate it.  At the suggestion of a Rabbi, she seems to brighten.  “Hell yeah, fuck a priest, man.  Kick it old testament style.”  They could bypass her forgone religion entirely, which was ideal.  She’s honestly surprised by how level and calm she is as they talk about this.  She still feels like she’s going to throw up from anxiety but hey, what else was new? “M’guessing he’s dead…Never met a dead member of the clergy before.”  

Her eyes get big, “Are you going to take me to the Netherworld finally after months of me begging you to take me?”

            “what? but that’s stupid, put the damn thing on.” he laughs, and once she does, he holds up his hand next to hers. “nice. it’s a weird ritual when you think about it. let’s be bound together in an unbreakable partnership held together only by some shiny jewelry.” he sniffs the ring, then licks it. “is this real gold? we can still sell the things after.”

             he grins, glad she’s more interested in his idea. “oh i mean, yeah. that guy’s long dead. i guess we could try to find him, but i don’t think we’d have much luck. i don’t suspect a rabbi would linger around as a ghost. i was thinking more like seeing who can be scared into performing a little hanukkah necromancy.” 

She’s slowly settling in, exhaustion taking over.  Her head is pounding and she’s hoping sleep will come soon, but she finds herself making a sort of effort to stay awake.  Why, she didn’t know exactly- maybe she just wanted to stay conscious so she could enjoy his hands in her hair.

How was it that a dead person, a demonic dead person, was more gentle with her than any living person she’d ever met?  It was baffling, but that’s why she liked him.  He was confusing.  In the past few hours he’d been rough and vulgar with her- which she likes.  He was all over the place with emotions, but then, so was she.  He was loud, and often unhinged.  But he was also this, quiet and oddly tender.  It was like this more and more, the more time they spent together.  It was…Nice.  Really nice.

When he kisses the top of her head, a soft sigh escapes her and she nuzzles her face into his neck like a cat might, finally feeling comfortable and safe enough to try sleeping.  All she hears for awhile is the sound of her own breathing, and the semblance of breath from him.  She’s on the brink of sleep, barely conscious when he speaks.  Her arms tighten around him slightly and unseen by him, she smiles.  What a lovely thought.  Ruined by a very obscure pop-culture reference. 

“What?”  She wriggles back a little and looks up at him.  She looks confused, but she’s also smiling a little.  It seems like the drama of the night is already melting away. “Who’s Nanny McPhee?”

          he almost feels bad for interrupting the quiet moment, but upon realizing she’s never even seen nanny mcphee ( seriously, what a travesty! ) that guilt dissipates. this is important. “seriously? what is wrong with you? how have you never seen nanny mcphee--” he grumbles, but he doesn’t sound mad, just determined (to make her watch it at some point). “it’s about this guy that hires a nanny to take care of his kids. they all hate her at first but grow to love her and she takes care of them while they need her, even though they don’t want her there. and then once they do want her, and don’t need her, she leaves.” a pause. “also she’s magic. kinda a childhood hero for me. she’s a little like mary poppins but meaner. wait, oh my god, please tell me you’ve seen mary poppins.”

Admittedly, she really wishes they were talking about pretty much anything else.  She looks more uncomfortable than he’s ever seen her, especially since her death.  The look on his face speaks volumes and it makes her feel even worse.  How many times did he check in on her?  

Under his hand, her flesh re-materializes.  It’s impossible to tell if she did it on purpose or if it’s a response to touch.  She needs it, needs the comfort.  Thinking about him was more painful than she thought.  She isn’t sure she can even bring herself to say his name.  The very thought of it burns the same way a prayer would burn her tongue.

“He had some really crazy powerful magic.  He pretty much had total control over everything I did.  It was a nightmare.”  She shrinks in on herself a little, looking away.  If only she’d known Betelgeuse was there, maybe she would have held on a bit longer.  Maybe she could have lived. “…I can’t say his name.”

“He-”  Her eyes blink away.  It’s almost like he is there.  She can almost feel phantom pains from his personal attentions.  “He’s not a problem anymore.  I took care of it.”  Her voice is cold, and menacingly low.  “He knows  better than to ever come after me again.”  She doesnt seem so sure of that.

She doesn’t even realize that her nose is bleeding- or that her nose is back on her face.  In that horrifying moment thinking of him, she lost control over her form, reverting back to how’d she looked in life.  Not even that, how she looked in death.  Eyes bloodshot, skin red, raw and bleeding.  She looks down at her hands and immediately vanishes, reappearing a few feet away, facing away from him. “Shit-”  She’s stuck now, back how she’d looked when he was a part of her life.  “God dammit- Ow-”  The use of God’s name burned her now fully materialized tongue. 

           he listens to her describe the demon. he can only assume it’s a demon. that kind of magic, that kind of power, it’s rare. and betelgeuse will be the first to admit that he doesn’t know them all -- tends to avoid them, honestly. but there’s only a few who can do that -- if he’s right in assuming that this guy kept her from summoning him, managed to hide himself from betel, and blocked her from even being able to see him..... an image forms in his head. not of someone he’s ever met, but a figure he’s heard of. a slight shiver runs down his spine.

                “it’s okay, don’t worry. wouldn’t want to accidentally summon him...” there’s a slightly nervous laugh there, and betel’s grip on her tightens protectively, as if he can tell that she almost senses him. betel hopes he would notice if there was another demon here now. he really hopes that she’s right that he’ll stay far away from her. “that’s my girl,” betel says lightly, a little proudly. “fucked him up, huh?” 

Her heart is racing, the color is rising pretty obviously in her cheeks.  Was this really happening?  Was she really agreeing to marry someone?  Necromancy aside- she told herself long ago she wasn’t the loving kind, that marriage was off the table.  And yet, as she watches him get up, pacing around, looking nervous but excited, there’s a warmth in her chest that she really can’t explain.  She even half chuckles at the muttering about his mother.  She had a track record of displeasing them others of partners, glad to see her streak remained.  …Partners.

Finding someone to perform the ritual was another matter.  She herself hated the idea of going to a priest, especially a Catholic one.  She absently wondered if he had a religion.  Was there such a thing as a satanist wedding?  

Suddenly, she gets up and walks over to the vanity.  She flipped open a jewelry box that rested on the top, poking through it as he muttered to himself.  It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for.  She never thought she’d actually need what she found.  She withdraws a small black drawstring bag, and tips it into her hand.  Three rings.  One was her grandad’s wedding ring, another was her dad’s.    The third was her mothers, left on the kitchen table on the day she left.  She pockets her parents rings, but keeps her grandad’s in hand. 

“M’sure we’ll find someone.  It they aren’t willing, I’m sure you can scare them into it.”  She walks over to him.  “Here-”  She feels weirdly calm as she takes his hand in hers.  She slips the old gold band on his finger.  “There.  Engaged.”

           “you just keep these things? why?” it’s a flippant comment, something to distract him from the nerves that are starting to settle in. he watches her, tensely, as she approaches him, and his hand clenches for a moment when she takes it. he has to force himself to relax, fingers unfurling, and he stares at the band of gold around his finger. “............ you have two more there. you gotta wear one too.” he has no idea if that’s how it works, but he refuses to do something so ridiculous on his own.

@souldetaches​ said.... 'baby, what was your plan for if your personal lolita didn't kill you? did you have one?' thinking abt how my was already dead for bj's wedding so :) have this :)

She’s about to say his name again, but she’s silenced by a finger placed on her lips.  She’d been staring at him, her wide brown eyes bloodshot and swimming with tears, but when he touches her, she blinks, and tears drop down her cheeks, hot at first and then cold.  The hand that’s been idly playing with his hair leaves its resting place and comes to settle over his hand, clutching it to steady the shaking- to steady herself.

Each passing moment was filled with intrusive thoughts of what she might have done after he left, but her mind feels still now.  She takes a shaking breath, nods, and wordlessly moves closer to him.  Both hands are on his face now, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “D…Don’t let me go, okay?” She isn’t entirely sure what she means by that.  It’s more of a request to be held, but her brain is still trying to recover from rapid fire suicidal ideations.  Spoken language is failing, so touch is taking over.  

She kisses him again, and it’s different than usual.  She usually bites or makes immediate use of her tongue.  There’s usually a lustful hunger fueling it, but her lips just barely ghost over his now.  It’s more like a thank you.  She ducks her head under his, snaking her arms around him and pulling her body flush to his.  He’s’s cold, her body shivers involuntarily but that only seems to drive her to be closer.  Her face is resting against his chest.  He smells of death and decay, but it’s a sickly sweet smell to her.  It doesn’t bother her- it’s comforting.  Death is comforting.  He probably didn’t mean to be, but he was comforting.

“Y…You’re too good to me.”  Her voice is muffled, since she’s essentially talking into his chest, but her words are there all the same.  He was keeping her alive.  She really didn’t think she deserved that.  What is deserve is to be left alone to rot.

             relief floods his chest as her tongue is stilled before she can finish. eyes close, and he breathes heavily -- it’s artificial, and unnecessary for a dead thing, but it helps calm him. as she moves closer to him, touches him, the rise and fall of his rotting chest syncs with hers, and he feels just a little bit better. she’s close, holding onto him, and he snakes his arms back around her. “okay,” he says, and he’s never been so agreeable as he is now. not with anyone he’s ever met before.

             the kiss is strange, absent of the usual lustful passion. he whines a little as she pulls away, but lets her go. it was.... nice. somehow. his eyes flutter shut, the exhaustion hitting him again, and he coils his body around her. he has no body heat, no way of keeping her warm, but he seems desperate to cover every part of her with his own body, as if he could shelter her from the world. his hand goes to her hair, sharp nails combing through it. he almost misses her words, but regardless he doesn’t respond. he only pulls her a little closer, shifts so he can press a kiss to the top of her head, and then settles. he doesn’t usually sleep, but he thinks he might, this time.