#(It's getting colder these days)

[canisalbus]

can machete have a heating pad as a treat

Sure.

[ryllen]

sebek passing down old water bottle to his child

[moonsun2010]

Ooh man, I love your Crew of Light's first Christmas tags.

Can you imagine... Lucy died on the longest days of the year, when light fades and darkness starts to reign on land and on everyone's souls from losing her. Then a month after Dracula becomes ash the Crew of Light are there together on the longest night of the year and Christmas and near the dawn of a new year. Light starts to slowly but surely come back, as if Quincey made sure of it.

Context: Anon is referring to my tags* on this post... Anon I wanted to reply to this with a comic on Christmas but I took too long,,, consider it a post-Christmas gift:

*My tags: #im damn rusty on the loreTM rn but i do agree arthurll throw a fancy ass celebration and stuff as expected from the lordling #and then once thats done the real celebration of them meeting at the Harkers occurs where its more somber. i imagine the 1st christmas #postDracula is very somber. its barely been a month after all. no parties in the goldaming estate this year im afraid yes the new lord is #just so deeply in mourning isnt he devoted. sitting at the grave of his beloveds every week. hes still in his room now mediating i heard #just as the loneliness finallt gets to arthur hes greeted by a knock at the door. seward has come to find him—one look at his drawn face #is all it takes to know they were both mourning the same ppl. so they go. down to the harkers' where van helsing is alr waiting by the door #chiding them for their lateness ('didnt you receive my telegram' 'that seems to be a recurring problem yes') even as VH's hug warms them up #from their trek through the snow ('oh no we dont need a carriage dears enjoy your christmas'). they become warmer still sitting ard the #hearth with the Harkers similarly harggard yet brightening instantly as the group reunites... and as they exchange stories of the dead #it is as though they still walk amongst them their memory forever kept alive. if 2 ghostly presences watch from the doorway well. #do pardon them. they just missed their family so much.

[marblerose-rue]

basking in moonlight

[pisc3s-baby]

🙃

[daily-odile]

Odile in winter clothes? dyou think she's more of a Big Scarf person or a Hood With Big Fluff person?

why not both

[bamsara]

R u leaving the fnaf fandom? 😭

uh lemme check

no it doesnt look like it

[teamunee]

bird cage

[crippled-peeper]

unresolved missing persons cases are so deeply upsetting especially when there is absolutely no trace left by the person

[pterribledinosaurdrawings]

Dinosaur I drew to complain about the inadequate heating at work.

[dailynakaharachuuya]

25. Winter clothes

[messedupmouth]

me, visibly foaming at the mouth and shedding tears of exhalation: beloved, did you notice it's almost autumn?

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 6

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 971

Written: 21st December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

Sylus' body is an inferno. He's well used to running hotter than most. It's just another part of who he is, that doesn't occur to him the majority of the time.

The first few times you'd shared a bed, you'd wriggled out of his grasp, sweating and uncomfortable. Had he had less control over himself, he'd have pouted. (You probably didn't miss the furrow in his brow though.)

So he'd slept wearing as little as possible.

Still too much, waking up in the middle of his sleep schedule to find you across the bed, covers thrown off to cool down. Shedding your discomfort.

Next he'd taken to pulling your clothes off. Always a delight, this time a driven aim. It had worked somewhat, you'd wrapped yourself into his embrace and tangled around him, seeking out the heat of his body like he was your personal pillow.

It lasted longer, but still he was awoken by you edging away, seeking the chill of a turned over pillow and the outside of the duvet.

He'd changed the type of bedding he used, bought you new bedding.

You'd told him to stop worrying, to stop paying expenses, sometimes it was just too warm.

Sylus was sure at that he'd grumbled like a child. He wanted to hold you, and he wanted to wake up with you in his arms.

Everytime you moved out of his reach, he itched and ached like scales growing through raw skin. It was one of the few times he envied the doctor, he never seemed to have trouble with keeping you clinging throughout your slumber.

Eventually he had two things fitted, a ceiling fan and air conditioning. The change to temperature meant so little to him, unbothered by heat or cold. When you'd seen them on your next visit, you'd been incredulous. Since when did he need either of these?

He didn't answer that he needed them for you, for him, he just made an offhand comment about the best, and preparation for the future. (The immediate future. His sleep quality.)

His relief that day when he'd woken up, your head under his chin, legs tangled with his, and arms around him. Seeking out his skin against yours.

The second you left the bed, however, you'd complained for the chill. He left the remote for the new tools of his victory, in your hands, but he had gleefully held you as long as he could, chin on shoulder and hands dancing across cool skin.

Your week off has allowed him to experience that for a few days now, he's using your sleep pattern for the week, though there is no real track of time in the sky of the N109 Zone. He doesn't want to make your return to work difficult.

As he wakes, this morning you have stayed asleep, catching up on long hours. Your back is pressed to his chest and you're holding onto his arm. He won't tease you about the drool out the corner of your mouth, but he files away the image for himself. Tickled and endeared.

He doesn't want to wake you, you're so peaceful... but he can't stop himself from pulling as close as he can. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, and breathing you in.

You smell like his last meal in every life. Like he could bite down and die happy, your blood in his mouth and your soul in his chest.

If he were a weaker man, perhaps he'd drool as well, salivating and starving.

He certainly feels starved when he cannot keep you close, desperate and dogged.

You'd teased him that he reminds you of a wolf, and he thinks that's more accurate than he likes. He would bite your hand lovingly, but tear and snarl at your command, if that's what you wanted from him.

Sylus wants to get up, if he can get breakfast ready, he can see your eyes light up. Hand you a mug of coffee, that turns his nose, in bed. So you'll kiss his cheek and sigh happily.

He feels satisfaction when he sees you happy because of him. Yet...

Pressed against you, your chest moving with each breath. So alive, and warm and his. You trust him to guard you, to kiss your neck when the scent drives him to madness, to keep you warm against the cold. He once mused that you still took his hand despite how dangerous he was, and every day he marvels more at how you continue to do so.

Now when you take his hand, you place a kiss on his knuckles. That if he had no healing ability, would be scarred and torn and ruinous. He thinks, that even if that were the case... you would still kiss them tender and raw.

You had always seen something in him that no one else did. Flowers suiting his soul, a smile worthy of his face, love belonging in his hands.

He feels sick with the feeling, overflowing from where joined hearts beat in his chest, but it's a sickness he would never wish to heal himself of. Peace found despite how little he probably deserves it.

Sylus is selfish though. A fragment, a taste, a burst of you had not been enough. Millennia's will not be enough. Until the end of the world itself he will never think this is enough.

No matter his sullied hands, or the actions he has made, some of which he would not apologise for, he will never relinquish his treasure.

His Soul.

You who owns his heart for eternity.

As he bites down at your shoulder, stirring your sleep, and laves with his tongue to your sleepy pleasure, he settles for a taste of the cure to his hunger, that he plans to draw out forever.

[milkweedman]

Been trying to make a thick winter hat all damn weekend and have gotten approximately nowhere very slowly.

First was gonna do some cables (good way to make a thick hat), but my brain is mush and I just couldn't get math and tension to co-operate. Then I figured, bit of single color brioche is also very thick. Can't do brioche anymore apparently, as it wasn't working. Fine, I'll just crochet it--except now it's not warm because it has too many holes. Also, I've been using a very dark yarn for this bc its what I have, but I'm starting to suspect that not being able to see my stitches has been the problem this whole time.

So...now idk what. I still need a thick winter hat. Also need a pair of mittens and a wheelchair blanket as well as to actually finish that wheelchair bag (even more important now bc I ripped a huge hole in one of my prototypes on Friday and I dont want to fix it). Augh. So much to do. So little brain and even less arm strength to do it with.

I'm going to rethink my yarn choices and try for the hat yet again, I guess.

[teathattast]

my heart the red sun your heart the moon clouded

i could go crazy on a night like tonight

when summer's beginning to give up her fight

and every thought's a possibility and voices are heard

but nothing is seen

why do you spend this time with me?

may be an equal mystery

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneepy cozy time....