#Music art inspired by a song called Hold On.

[zanthiakhalaplace]

Music art inspired by a song called Hold On. Come check my designs and products anytime here: http://www.redbubble.com/es/people/juditangelo https://www.teepublic.com/user/juditangelozk https://cara.app/juditangelozk

[somewhere-at-the-burrow]

i would LOVE to hear you talk about music in your dr, music, art, writing/poetry, etc, is one of THE main reasons i'm shifting, and i never see anyone talk about it

I also never see anyone talking about this, and it is such a big part of shifting that I have grown to love so much :,) music and media really holds us together, no matter where we are! here is my best explanation of the music in my weasley reality!

𝒲izarding ℳusic !

TO START, I have noticed that the music and the bands that are popular have a lot of scattered influence from many eras and genres. it is still popular to hear songs on the WWN with lots of classic jazz influence, and then the next song will be a witchy synth anthem inspired by muggle technology and the pop culture of the 80s--- THE RANGE IS CRAZY!

for example: in my Weasley reality, Celestina Warbeck is arguably the most popular and well listened to musician of the century, and she really paved the way for wizarding artists changing their styles and taking influence from muggle music. she had many different eras, ranging from jazz to pop to surprisingly.. witchy rock!

even in her old age (I think she is around 80 years old?), she has still released singles that push different styles and experiment with the ever changing world of music. although, some people really dislike her music simply because it is played so much.

(I remember once I was talking to my mom about her when we saw a live Celestina rendition at the Harry Potter theme park, and my mom said she sounded like the wizarding world version of Taylor Swift. IT IS SO TRUE THOUGH, because she even has a dedicated fanbase that call themselves the Banshees. crazy!)

Another very cool thing about music in the wizarding world is charmed music.

as in this reality, music has evident "energy" that can make you feel a whole range of emotions... but for musicians with magic, that can take on a whole different meaning! it is almost like subliminal messaging, but songs can be "enchanted" with spells through lyrics or have sounds and choruses that are intended to put you in a trance.

this is really common with wizarding party music! I mentioned it in another post, but one of my all time favorite songs is "Man of Midnight" by Celestina Warbeck... the song is known for being bewitching, even if it does not sound fully like a "party song". I have no idea how to describe it, but when I listen to the song I feel like the most powerful person alive? I always tell Fred that it is a siren song.. and that is honestly the closest I can describe it. He just says it makes him alive with motivation and that is why we listen to it at least once when we do work together !

Another form of charmed music is sports chants. a common theme with these chants is their appearance throughout wizarding history, often carrying ancient and intense emotion within their words.

I have only experienced this one time, and it was at the League Cup (Kestrels V Harpies). When the Kestrels were ahead, one of the Irish bands that played in the fairgrounds started singing an old Irish song that originated from the game of Aingingein. even though the game is not played anymore, everyone knows the song. it is almost like a representation of Irish pride?

so when the whole charged up crowd started chanting, it felt like there was ancient and intense game spirit coursing through the stadium. I wasn't even rooting for the Kestrels, but damn I felt like standing on my seat and declaring that I would die for Ireland or something 😭 i've never in my ENTIRE life felt so spiritual about the opposing team, and within a minute of the stadium chanting!

Something else I find very very cool about wizarding music in my desired reality is how music is distributed.

they regularly use common things like vinyls and the radio, and magical concerts happen very often.. but something I didn't expect were lyrical signatures.

these are a weird invention. as the name suggests, these musical souvenirs are similar to a signature of pages in a book... however, they are also very similar to singing birthday cards.

many wizarding bands will sell these mini booklets that showcase a song (or songs) on their pages, and when you open the booklet or flip to a certain page, the song will play. it is seriously the most genius thing ever!

many of these booklets are formatted like a CD, with the album cover being on the front, the first page talking about the album and the band accomplishments of the year, and the next pages each showcasing songs from the collection. it is also very common to have the lyrics on the left side, with song information and sometimes a themed image on the right side.

I had NO idea these would be so popular in my DR. they are given as gifts, mailed to relatives and friends who may not have access to them around the world, and even collected! it is seriously like the wizarding CD. Bill has this epic collection of signatures that he has alphabetized and organized by genre, and he even had a custom box with slots to store them. he's the coolest brother!!

this form of music is so fun.. you can just open up to the song you like and place it open on table, or you can charm it to flip from beginning to end to enjoy the whole album. definitely the most unexpected yet coolest thing that I have discovered while shifting!!

i'll probably make a pt. 2 of my favorite magical bands and musicians, as I have so much I could say and I think they deserve their own section! thank you if you have read this far, and I really appreciate how kind you all were in my absence :,)

good luck shifting everyone!!

[letmesleep8]

the fucking punchline // elliexreader

CHAPTER 1: White Carnations

Ao3

content warnings/tags: drug usage (weed), implied daddy issues

notes: hello lesbians! this is my second ever fanfiction here on tumblr, quick reminder: i didn't drop the other one. this is kinda slowburn and also kinda daisy jones & the six inspired, so if you like that book you might like this too. i'll always link up the songs I used in the story at the end of the chapter. hope you enjoy. <3

taglist: @lorelaihehe @lonelyfooryouonly

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

September 09th, 2023 

Time shakes, found you at the water 

At first you were a problem my father, now I love you like a father a brother

Earthquakes shake the dust behind you

This world at times will blind you

Still I know I’ll see you there

The calloused, ink stained hands scribbled on a sketchbook, next to a drawing of what seemed to be a wolf. On the same page, Ecology notes got lost between chord progressions and two-sentence long lyrics. Near the margin, a quick but precise drawing of Dina’s eyes. 

Ellie was sitting in the corner of her Organic Chemistry lecture at Jackson’s Community College, hiding her freckled body under a gray sweatshirt and her sleepy eyes behind overgrown face-framing bangs. As the professor finally called the class off, she got up from her seat, walking to her visibly well loved truck, its blue paint holding scratches and slight dents, clearly faded from the sun

I sat on my window as I watched her old truck drive by, as loud as always. I was waiting for my nails to dry, afraid that the maroon polish would stick to everything if I didn’t have the  patience to let it take its sweet time. She got off her truck and stepped on her cigarette before  going through the front door. 

I had met Jesse a few weeks earlier, it was karaoke night at the bar. I managed to get a few drinks from the old creeps there and was already feeling a bit too “happy” when I stepped onto the improvised stage we had set up and gave that bikers’ bar the best drunk performance of “Hopelessly Devoted to You” they had ever seen. 

I have always loved to sing. Writing, playing  the  guitar, putting up concerts for my family in my living room. Music is my soul. But I’ve come from a reality where art wasn’t an option, being an artist would not pay my rent, nor would it show to my  parents that I wasn’t a complete disaster. So I worked as a waitress and saved up  to  the last cent of any tips I would get, only spending enough to pay my parents my contribution to what they spent so I  could go to cosmetology school

After I finished my fifteen minutes of fame, I went back to the cold reality and started cleaning up some tables. That was when Jesse came up to me, drunk and full of compliments to give. He had a girl beside him, Dina. He started rambling about his band and how they’re so good that they even do weddings, and then he asked me if I had ever auditioned for a singing  gig  at all. I was full of confidence and whisky, so I gave him my number when he said they could  use another vocalist

The next morning I had basically forgotten about my new deal, and I figured he would have forgotten about it  too. But I was wrong. The boy did not forget about it, in fact, he kept calling me to schedule my “audition”. So I finally gave in. I grabbed my guitar case and started walking to the address he gave me. It was just down the street from my house, at  the Miller’s. I held the case on my shoulder and walked towards the open garage door. There were Dina, Jesse and the girl I had only seen from my window every now and then. 

– You actually came! – Jesse got up from his seat, walking his way to me. – Oh, you play the guitar  too? Damn, Williams, found someone else to do your work. – He joked and the girl gave him an annoyed look, sitting comfortably on the old chair inside the garage. I couldn’t help but observe how her thighs set apart from each other and her head was thrown back mindlessly. 

– So, are you gonna show me what you’re all about? You seem to have really impressed the other two. – She gestured for me to sit on a stool, her voice was, honestly, cold but not in an unfriendly way. She seemed nonchalant, but not distant. Her green eyes had the warmth her mouth seemed to lack and her face was strangely expressive, like someone who had spent their developing  years in front of the tv instead of talking to people, but it complemented her sharp voice just perfectly. 

– This is a song I wrote a few weeks ago. It’s not finished yet, but I think it’s fine. – I spoke as I tuned in the guitar while keeping my eyes mostly on the girl, who seemed to be paying close attention to me and, at the same time, seemed to disdain me. 

She analyzed my every move as I started singing. I could see some curiosity peeking through her eyes when I began performing the first verse. 

“She's asleep in the backseat

 Looking peaceful enough to me

 But she's wakin' up inside a dream

 Full of screeching tires and fire”

I played the chords and kept singing the words, trying to mask the knot on my throat. “Emily, I’m sorry, baby / You know how I get when I’m wrong” I tried to keep my voice from shaking;  not because of the lyrics, I haven’t talked to Emily since 8th grade and, honestly, I just think it’s a beautiful name. I wanted to cry because I felt anxious. Turns out it hurts more to overcome your fears when your blood is not 50% whisky.

It was as if I could listen to my  father screaming from a distance: “you are a waste of time!” Suddenly, it was like I could slowly feel my blood going through my veins all throughout my body, sliding like raindrops on a window. I was feeling overwhelmed, the song felt never ending and I was sure that I had gotten at least 30% of all the notes wrong. I didn’t realize how much I wanted this, how much I craved for a chance to showcase my songs, a chance to pretend that my dreams were possible. And in my head, it was all over, until I heard Ellie’s voice from across the room.

– Sounds good to me. – She shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows. – If you two think she’s good then she’s good and she’s in. I’d be the odd one out anyway. Dina flashed me a warm smile and gave me a side hug.

– Welcome to the band! – She nudges my arm.

– Rehearsal every Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday from 3 to 5 pm. – Jesse smiled from the worn out couch he was lazily lying on. 

We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other better. Dina talked about some songs she would like to perform at their next weddings, Jesse laid back on the couch and played with the drum sticks. The band had some work of their own, but not many since Ellie was basically the only one who was more interested in writing than playing covers. 

– Hey – I was sitting on the floor and scrolling on my phone, Ellie scooted closer to me, brushing her jeans against my knee. – D’you write that song by yourself? The “Emily” one and shit? 

– It’s called “Emily, I’m sorry”. – I chuckled, nodding. – Yeah, I did. I actually write a lot of songs. Why?

She reached out for her sketchbook inside of her forest green backpack, I couldn’t help but notice how it matches her eyes almost too perfectly. She flipped the yellow pages  until she found a small verse of lyrics to show me. I wasn’t really used to showing unfinished lyrics to people but I grabbed the small handbook in my pocket.

Do you understand the things that you’ve been seeing?

Do you  understand the things that you’ve been dreaming?

Come a little closer, then you’ll see

– I woke up in the middle of the night last week and wrote this down on my phone. Do you think it could perhaps work with the melody you wrote? 

– Well, actually… – She scratched the back of her head and looked up. 

– You haven’t thought of a melody yet, have you? – I smirked.

– No, no, of course I have, I just… – She stuttered. – It just needs a bit of… refining.

– Refining, huh? – I chuckled.

Jesse told Dina he was bored and, with a smirk, they both decided it was time to go watch a movie at his house. I was ready  to take my things and leave too, but Ellie stopped me.

– Hey, wait! – She called for me. – Do you want to work on the song? I mean, I ain’t got no professional studio but we could make it work with what I  have. The others don’t really like to write and shit, I was thinking maybe we could give that one a try.

– Oh, sure. – I smiled softly. 

She closed the garage door, giving us some more privacy. Ellie reached for the laptop on a tools table, it was plugged into a reasonably nice mic, she must have saved up for ages to buy it. She also got an electric guitar out of the case and started to tune it. With my acoustic guitar, I started humming a few different generic melodies that came to my head, until Ellie liked one and decided to try to follow it with her guitar. We stayed there for a while.

– Do you like it that way? I don’t think it’s working out well enough. 

I scratched the back of my head, my eyes narrowed. I rubbed my hands over my face. 

– I don’t know, I'm just having trouble locking in, I guess. We could give up for now, if  you want. 

– I know something that could help, if you’re up for it. – She smirked slightly. Maybe I was overthinking it, but I could swear I saw her eyes wander to my mouth. – I  mean, if you’re even a smoker, of course. 

– Oh. – I fell into reality and felt stupid. – Oh yeah, sure, I- I mean, we could try. Cool.

She got up and gestured to me to follow, I put the guitar on the case and took it with us. We exited the garage through a small door that led to the kitchen. Her house was messy enough to be acknowledged as a college student’s but it was furnished like some kind of family had once lived in that space

She led me up the stairs, into her room. I shyly sat on the edge of her bed and she got some weed and some silk out of her bedside table. She started rolling it up and I watched as she licked it together in record time, I would be lying to say I wasn’t impressed. A simple lighter came out of her pocket and she took a long hit before passing it over to me. I brought both the blunt and her gaze up to my lips, taking a drag not as experienced as hers. It wasn’t  my  first time smoking but I was scared to bite more than I could chew, for some reason.

– So, are you from around town? Never seen you around. –  She was trying to break the ice. I got up from her bed and walked towards her window, she was quick to follow after me. 

– Right there. – I pointed to the other side of the street, about three or four houses over. She seemed surprised. 

– Really?! – She spoke, surprised. –  I thought that was where the annoying lady from the Neighborhood Association lived. The one that’s always telling people to speed down and shit.

– Yeah, that’s my mom. – I laughed as I watched her cheeks  grow a bright red, her eyes trying to look anywhere but mine. – It’s okay, she really is annoying. She does that to me too and I’m her own daughter. – I sat on her windowsill, taking another drag of the joint. She joined me, sitting by my side. 

– I mean, she never complained about the noise during the band’s practice sessions. Gotta give her that, though. 

I laughed and she took the weed back. 

– She can be a bit mean but she is a music lover, after all. Maybe you’ve found her soft spot with that one. 

– Aw shit, gonna have to give her tickets to our next underground-bar concert. 

We both laughed at the idea of my mom at one of our shows. 

– Gonna make sure to tell her to look out for it. – That was when I realized I hadn’t asked a really important question. – What’s the band’s name anyway?

– White Carnations. – Ellie took another hit, blowing the smoke outside and passing it to me.

– White Carnations… – I breathed out the smoke. – I like it. Any particular reason for the name? 

– I don’t know. – She shrugged her shoulders. – Sounded good, I guess. – She was clearly lying, but I didn’t want to push her too hard so I changed the subject. 

I went back to playing some chords on the guitar and we were lost in a comfortable silence, until I had an idea. I started humming something along the lines of: “Ten thousand people stand alone now / And in the evening the sun sank, tomorrow it will rise / Time flies by, they all sing along”, repeating the last line over and over until Ellie started singing it too. At some point she simply changed it to “time flies, bye-bye” and I absolutely loved it. It sounded like something you’d point the mic at people so they could scream at a concert

Only then I realized my bare feet were in her lap, like we had been the closest of friends for ages and not distant neighbors that only now realized that each other existed. Her tattooed hand rested on top of my ankles and her hazy eyes and smile seemed as familiar as my mirror. That evening we wrote the entirety of ‘Come A Little Closer” while sitting on her bedroom window, then ate a bunch of chocolate covered ice cream bites.

[lordfreg]

DAY 5 - Prison Dimension

Alone at the edge of a universe humming a tune For merely dreaming we were snow A siren sounds like the goddess who Promises endless apologies of paradise And only she can make it right So things are different tonight

↪info and writing under the cut

♪ song - Dream Sweet in Sea MajorSong by Miracle Musical

✎ app used was IbisPaint X

�� time was 2 hours 53 minutes

✶✦ thank you @lexiechr for the art/writing inspiration! ✦✶

LEON opened the portal with his swords, trying to find his way back to the base. He stepped through the cut in reality, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer lights and shining stars.

Kraang skeletons and destroyed, old mechs lay strewn about, his eyes gazing over the new space.

He didn't have a space suite or an air press, so he let out a low exhale. Cold adrenaline ran through his veins, he felt the coldness of the void creep onto his skin.

Flashes of forgotten trauma, the darkness memory he didn't even know he had. Leon's breath was heavy, as his air started to run out. He gasped at nothing, his lungs sucking in star dust, burning his mouth, throat and lungs. There was no oxygen, as no sound came from him.

He silently screamed, panicking as nothing came from his mouth. He felt his head grow light, and he fell to his knees, holding up his sword to make a new portal, this time, back to the base.

He forced himself to climb through the portal, the empty void he breathed filling with oxygen and making him choke on air.

Leon gasped out, coughing up spit as his eyes watered. Tears streamed from his eyes as steadied his breath.

He took a moment, breathing as he thought about the memories that flashed through his mind.

"Leo! Leo!" A familiar voice called, as Lexie ran to him in a panic.

"Leo, damnit! What happened?" She asked, helping pick up the bigger turtle.

"I-..." He rubbed his head, his voice completely raspy and fried, "Space..."

"Without an air press?" Lexie chided, "You should always be wearing one when out on mission! You know that."

Leon nodded, leaning into Lexie, his head against hers. His eyes closed, his face relaxing as the doctor led him to the med bay.

After the check-up and prescribed medication for the star dust burns and lung damage, Donavan approached his brother.

The same cold, annoyed scowl on his face as the soft shell lowered his hood.

"You're an idiot." Donavan hissed, "You know better. I'm disappointed."

Leon nodded, before smiling. He gestured to Donavan, using half ASL, half made-up twin language.

'I got a hug. She cares!' Leon signed, grinning at his twin.

Donavan nodded, giving him a fist bump.

[fortunekookie07]

Before you start reading this one, I'd just like you to know that Chryssikyu is 100% responsible for this one. All it took was one thought and I had to write something. Also I'm not capable of writing smut, it's beyond my capabilities. This is as far as I can go. So sorry. Without further ado I present to you

Call Me

You huff looking down at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time that day. Rafayel has once again ignored your phone calls. Answered text messages? Keep dreaming!

This is the same man who got super pissy and dramatic when you didn't answer his call right away. It was always something like, "I guess I'm not important enough for you to take my calls." Or something of the like. Yet somehow, you managed to find his dramatic pouty self adorable.

Today, though? Not so much, you were sorely tempted to let a cat lose in his studio for not taking your calls all afternoon. He'd know it was you, though. You were the only one he'd admitted to of his extreme dislike (read fear) of the furry creature. Revenge would be had. Thus, you just didn't have the heart.

After another hour and still no response, you decided to pay him a visit. So you take the twenty minute trip over to his private art studio/home.

Walking up the path, you see nothing out of the ordinary, the same plants and pathway as always. Just as you reach the door, you hear music. You pause, Rafayel certainly liked music. He'd recommend some artists to you before. It's just that he'd never played any in his studio before. It was usually quiet. That was how he preferred it.

Hesitantly, you turn the knob slowly and carefully so as not to make a sound. Thank god Rafayel had regular maintenance done on his doors. They never squeaked or creaked. He detested that sound.

You remove your shoes and leave them in the doorway. Something just telling you not to make any sounds. Carefully searching the downstairs studio reveals that he's not here, but the further you venture in the louder, the music is.

You realize you hear two voices, one coming from a female and the other, definitely male. You freeze, oh my god, is Rafayel singing?!? The male voice is amazing. You've never heard anything like it, so you keep going almost as if his voice is luring you in.

At the top of the stairs, the living room is situated, a wide space. Rafayel had personally designed the room, and it reflected him greatly. The huge wall to the back was his own painting of the sea. One of his greatest works. Sadly, not many would ever see it. He rarely had company over, and even fewer of them were invited up to his living quarters upstairs. You were one of two people to be given that privilege.

This wasn't the most amazing thing, though. There, in front of the large sofa, was Rafayel singing and dancing using his paintbrush as a microphone. He was completely oblivious to your presence.

You quickly took out your phone and snapped a few photos before recording. The song ended then, and he turned around, seeing you holding your phone and trying not to laugh.

His ears instantly went red as a scarlet blush bloomed across his face. "How long have you been standing there? It's rude not to announce your presence." He partially covered his face, his eyes darting away. Then he saw that you were holding your phone camera pointed at him. "Are, are you recoding me?!?!?" He asked Incredulously his blush, deepening as he made to grab your phone.

"Delete it!" He swiped for the sleek device, but you managed to dodge his frantic hands. "Nope! This is all mine now. " You wagged the phone in his face before stuffing it down your shirt. Rafayel would never be so bold to get it now. You poked his cheeks, and he swiped at you again.

"Do that again, and I'll spit bubbles at you." He said, rubbing his face and trying to hide his red face. "What have you been doing? I've been trying to call you all day." You put your hands on your hips and raise a brow.

"I was trying to get inspiration and then decided to listen to some music. You know the rest." He crossed his arms and turned away from you in a humph motion. Still embaressed at having been caught.

When you asked what song and he gave the title, you frowned. "That song is like twenty years old. Why are you listening to that?" You'd heard the song before, just not in a long time. "It came in the station I was listening to." He defended.

"Next time, don't ignore my calls. Did you forget you wanted me to go with you to buy supplies for your painting?" Rafayel's face brightened, and his eyes were almost twinkling. You thought you had him until realization hit him.

"Hand over your phone first. You took pictures. If they aren't perfect, I'll delete them." He held his hand out expectantly.

"Nope! These are all mine." You grinned at the pout on his face, certain he would not venture to get it. You were about to find out how wrong you were

He reached towards you going for your shirt. Swatting his hands away, you "No touchy!" He only grinned in response. "Oh, I'm going to touch alright." The wicked glint in his eyes sent your heart racing. "Rafayel!" You say in warning backing up. The only escape is the stairs behind you.

You turn to dash down them to another room below. We'll that was your intention anyways. Right behind you is that blue fish. You stop short. That was all the time he needed. His arms snake around, you pulling you into his firm chest and holding you tight.

One of his hands plays with the bottom of your shirt, his fingers tapping your bare stomach underneath. His head burries into your shoulder, and he whispers your name against the bare skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. A groan escapes your lips.

"I've got you now." He says, and you feel his grin before he is kissing your neck and making you squirm. You through your head back and sigh, leaving your mouth at his attention. His fingers are drawing patterns lightly on your stomach, and shivers shoot down your spine.

"This will end if you give me the phone." His voice is low and husky against your neck. "No-o." Your rebuttal is more of a moan at this point. Your brain is hazy as Rafayel starts on your buttons. The first one comes open with a pop, and his fingers are quick to trace more patterns on your stomach.

"Are you going to give me your phone?" He asks, nibbling on your ear. "Ahhhn," is all you manage to get out. The second button is popped, his fingers part your shirt, and the cool air makes you shiver against his heat. "How about now?" You manage to shake your head. The third button is undone. His fingers are just below your bra now. "Rafa...!" Your voice is breathless as he takes the last three buttons in one go.

His seeking fingers quickly pull your shirt open, exposing your chest and the stashed phone. "I'm taking it now." His voice is low and husky as he nips your ear again. His hands slide up your sides slowly. He's definitely teasing you now.

With your mind in a daze, you try to grab your phone, but his nimble fingers are faster. He grabs your wrist and then laces your fingers together. He kisses each of your fingers and the back of your hand before turning your head towards him and pinning you with a piercing stare.

Rafayel's blue-pink eyes are so heated and deep, you're about to fall in. Like you are looking at a quietly raging sea. He slowly leans in, dragging the moment out, and you let out an impatient whine. With your free hand, you wrap it around the back of his neck and draw him in closer. He brings your joined hands down lower, wrapping them around your waist and drawing you closer back. And then finally, finally, his lips press against yours.

You're so lost in his kiss that you don't even notice him delicately drawing your phone out of its hiding place in your bra and slipping it into his pants pocket. He lets go of your arm and then turns you around before hooking his hands around your knees and hoisting you up to his height. Your legs go around his waist, and then he's kissing you again as he walks to his bedroom.

****************************************************

As you lay in the bed with only a thin sheet covering you and Rafayel's arm for a pillow, you finally remember what started all this. "My phone! Rafayel, where is my phone?" He hums not fully paying attention. Just laying beside you with his eyes closed. You pink his arm as you sit up. "You stole my phone!" You can't even be mad at him. You fell for his distraction.

Sitting up, you look around the room for clothes. Spying his black pants, you leap off the bed and dash over to it. Sure enough, your phone is in his pocket. As fast as you can, you email a copy of the video you took and the pictures to yourself before looking at him triumphantly.

He's just sitting up resting an elbow on his knee, supporting his head with his hand, watching you. "Do you want a picture of me so badly?" He asks in a provoking tone. Deciding that you've had enough of his games, you walk over and grab his face with both hands. "I prefer the real thing." You say stealing a kiss before slipping away again.

"I've got to go now, I have a mission. I'll be gone for a few days. Don't forget to call me this time!" You hurriedly dress yourself and turn to leave the bedroom before he's grabbing your arm and pulling you back. "Come straight here when you're done." He says a serious look in his eyes. "I miss you when you're gone." You turn and hug him. "I'm just a phone call away." You kiss him again and then head out the door.

[dazed-dollie]

a doll's desires, act 1, prologue

an 18+ fantasy-horror short story series

act 1 - the phantom's doll

story content warnings: dollification, non-con/dub-con fantasy hypnosis, mild corruption kink, non-con/dub-con sexual encounters, doll transformation, psychological body horror, body betrayal

prologue

relevant content warnings: non-con/dub-con fantasy hypnosis

This is a story about a good girl, who always did what she was told. It was the safe choice. She was told to do well in school, and so she did, graduating with honors; recommendations and accolades from her teachers in abundance. The safe choice. She was told to use her degree to get a good office job - and so she did, stunning co-workers and managers alike with her charm, quick thinking and extraordinary attention to detail. The safe choice - she always went with the safe choice.

It just made sense. After all, things never went well when she made the unsafe choice.

She made one unsafe choice - then another - then another. The chaos that was left in the wake of those choices could be measured in magnitudes. No - nothing good or safe had ever come from succumbing to the call of her darkness.

It whispered in her ear -  

Harder.  Faster.  More. Surrender. Echoing in her thoughts like a guiding rhythm. Taunting her mind like a mocking prayer. So - safe, it was. Even as that blanket of safety wrapped around her with its suffocating steadiness, it was what she…wanted. No - decided. It was her choice and that is what mattered.

Right?

Her safe, perfectly-calibrated rhythm was tuned to counterbalance the dark cadence that threatened to consume her. She made sure of it - deliberating each step, calculating each word, planning each transition. But that process did not come without its own cost, and the cracks were beginning to show. But she was at the cliff’s edge of ability to bear the heavy weight of “safe” for much longer - the dark rhythm was threatening to shatter its fragile dam. She tossed fitfully in her bed, the deafening hymn the only sound in her mind... ...when she heard it. A new tune - one that seemed to harmonize with the dark refrain. It was opera, of that much she could be sure, but her mind seemed to be unable to hold on to a single word, note, or phrase before the next arrived. She could not think, she could only listen, experience, and feel.

It felt soothing…relaxing…and suddenly the darkness of the call seemed less frightening. The lilting tenor voice reminded her of the sensitive and artistic soul she had once been with dreams of art, passion, music, and beauty. The slow slide of the melody's consuming aura wrapping around her body ignited heat and sent waves of pleasure along her spine. No longer a lonely, solemn aria, her mind now sang an enthralling duet. Her mind began to quiet to complete silence, as the dynamics between the tenor’s song and her dark chorus plunged her mind into the inky waters of a deep and "dreamless" sleep.

hello and thank you for reading! I just wanted to hop in at the end here to add some context and info about the direction of the rest of this story. I wanted to start “dollie’s dramas” with an erotic fantasy-horror concept to explore the darker and frightening parts of the some of edgier kinks as appropriate for (what’s left of) the season. I’m hoping this will also serve as an exercise in giving words to some of the conflicting feelings that can arise while playing in these kinks, when they go both right and wrong.

the other inspirations - phantom of the opera, “the doll people” by Sofia Isella

the body horror elements mentioned will not be graphic or feature any gore-like imagery and it will be more of a psychological take on body horror of the transformation element of dollification.

hoping to drop the rest of act 1 for halloween tomorrow 🎃

act 1, chapter 1 here

[ouroborosorder]

So, Deepcolor's oprec released, and upon reading a summary of it, I basically felt the entire world of Arknights click into place. Hear me out.

Deepcolor's Oprec details that Deepcolor was convinced by a messenger of the Cult of the Deep to become Seaborn. But she stopped her own assimilation when she realized that the Seaborn do not appreciate aesthetic beauty. She was disgusted, and literally left and stopped her own assimilation entirely due to her love of art, and has been holding it back with her painting.

And this made me realize. This is true of every character with seaborn blood who has resisted assimilation. Skadi sings. Specter sings. Laurentina sculpts. Gladiia dances. Mizuki cooks. Deepcolor is a painter. Amaia still translated books long after she had become Seaborn. Garcia played the piano. Lorenzo cared for the Stultifera.

Which also means...

... Anita was never assimilated. Not fully.

But this makes sense, even outside of a "art holds back the darkness" power of friendship-tier story beat. Assimilation is the surrendering of the individual self to unity, the acceptance that you do not matter, that all that matters is giving your life and your existence to the perpetuation of a greater Whole. They cultivate only to consume. They sing, but their song is a profound silence.

And what is more individualistic, more self-revealing than art? There is no artistic expression without the self, without the understanding that you are a distinct voice, that your perspective matters, that there is only one you.

Perhaps you may have noticed, but this is the same as the Yan-Sui. They hold back the collective with their individual passions. Painting, movies, poetry, games, war.

There's one other thing with a connection to artistic expression - but this time, positively. Originium Arts. Artistic ability has long been associated with Originium Arts capability - Amiya plays the violin, Frostnova sings as she enters the battlefield, Goldenglow's hairdressing, Astesia's divination powering her arts, Lucian the Blood Diamond. I mean they're called Arts for the love of god, it's not exactly subtle.

But the Rhine Lab manga tells us that when an Oripathy carrier dies, the Originium left behind contains their DNA sequence, left behind after death. They may die, but there is something that is always left behind, something that always remains behind. There is always the thing that let them do their Arts. There is always their artistic ability.

There is always their art.

You do your art until you are taken by death, but what remains behind is the traces of it, the artistic DNA you have left behind, your Arts itself. You're gone, but the remnants are still there. And someone else will find it, taking your Arts into themselves to do their own Arts themselves. Sometimes it becomes part of you, living with you and growing inside you, granting you your abilities. Sometimes you simply hold it and use it as fuel and inspiration to make your own Arts.

And this is always what Arknights has been about. Not just metaphorically, but literally.

They hired individual artists, asking them to make characters according to their own sensibilities and style, then putting them into a cohesive world. They got talented musicians and gave them carte blanche to contribute to the musical identity of this game. They got talented voice actors and let them just go ham on the mic. The game's story concept debatably originated because of Lowlight creating Kal'tsit for a make your own OC art game.

It has always been about individuals, putting everything they have, everything that makes them unique, every part of their histories and sensibilities and quirks and personalities and identity and selfish desires and allowing them to shine as a collaborative effort, working together towards a greater goal that means something to people.

An organization of people, Infected by the artistic DNA of those they carry close. People using their Arts to push back the darkness, as best as they can. Even if they stumble and fall, even if they make mistakes, they will always try. To enjoy their life and practice their art.

Because the two greatest threats to the world of Terra, the Seaborn and Sui, are held back by.. simple artistic passion.

The passion and love of the community, the individual given space to shine and collaborate, singing to drown out the terror of the song without sound, the art without beauty, and the collective without the individual.

[doodle-pops]

House of Feanor | A Maia Reader is Interested in Them (Pre-Darkening)

Request: Hey Mina! If you’re ok with it, could you write your headcanons for the house of Feanor having a Maiar interested in them romantically? Pre or Post darkening is fine, whichever is most interesting to you. I know canonically it’s basically unheard of for a Maia to marry an Elf but I think about it frequently because the Ainur fascinate me 💀 - Anon

A/N: I wanted to do post-darkening, but then I realised how angsty I would have made that, so I bailed, plus I was in the mood for fluff. Enjoy!!

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Feanor

Feanor being the ever so passionate and intriguing figure is more interested in you than you are in him. Furthermore, it wasn’t shocking for him when he discovered that a Maia was interested in him.

He’s literally spending all his time in Aule’s forges, what else to expect? His presence would have you hooked from the very start. The charm, the charisma, his voice, features, everything about him.

The only thing you and he would clash on numerous occasions for, is your love and appreciation towards the Valar, considering them beings who can do no wrong, and his pride and impulsiveness.

Apart from that, you and Feanor spend hours engaging in deep, philosophical discussions about the nature of the world and the secrets of creation. You would even extend your knowledge in creating towards his crafting.

The one thing you would constantly have to put up with (just like Nerdanel) is his fiery temper and hatred towards the rest of his family and Indis. You will forever have to temper his harshness and vocalisation, but also prepare yourself for being shown off and rubbed in his brothers’ faces.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Maedhros

When the both of you are together, walking about and basking in the joys of each other’s presence, no one can tell the difference between who is elf and Maia. You both appear as two Maiar due to the ethereal beauty and grace you exert.

He does find solace in your calm and serene presence, given his elder brother’s duties being too much at times and dwelling in a noisy household. With you, he is able to drop his guard and be himself without the need to be on edge.

Most of the time, you spend moments getting to know each other better and explore the realms of emotion and touch since it may be uncommon for you. Maedhros finds joy in teach you how to hold hands or fingers and express your elation, the same way you teach him.

At the same time, you would offer him knowledge, support, and guidance on taking the role of being a leader and role model to his younger brothers. Though, it would take a copious amount of time before you ever get introduced to his family.

He finds your ethereal and otherworldly presence not worth being among his family yet, wants to be a bit selfish and have you to himself for the great part of learning you. Plus, he knows it will be a huge talk around Valinor and his father would talk everyone’s ear off.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Maglor

It would only be fair that you and Maglor became interested in one another due to your common love for the arts, your poetry or storytelling and the music. The perfect duo, matchmade in heaven Valinor.

You have been interested in hearing his voice up close and in person which triggered a plethora of emotions, urging you to pursue the minstrel. And now, you both spend your time singing tales and writing stories in your free time, teaching him how to incorporate more magic into his songs.

Being around him means being his inspiration in his art and encouraging him to express his deepest emotions. His household has never known peace since the day you met him and became a frequent visitor.

Maglor holds a deep respect for you as his muse and person of interest, though, he can be partially nervous around you because of your differences and the breath-taking voice you emit which surpasses him. You got a little grumbly Maglor sulking in a corner.

At the same time, he is proud to call you his and dies on the inside with you call him yours. Due to your interactions with him, you are quickly able to navigate emotional and physical intimacy with him, smoothly transitioning into your relationship.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Celegorm

He’s loud and hollering that a Maia is interested in him. “Like have you not seen me? I’m the hottest thing since the light of the two trees. Of course they’d fall for someone with irresistible charm like me.”

Seriously, Tyelko is smug at the realisation that he managed to not only be an apprentice of a Vala and have a Maia as an animal companion, but also managed to impress one to have them like him.

It’s hard for him to shut up about how ecstatic he is about you liking him and wanting to be with him. Most of the time you and Tyelko would be alone, which means Huan would also depart, so he can impress you with his charm and knowledge while he takes you on hunts.

This doesn’t mean that he’s going ignore the fact that you are more intelligent than him. Tyelko will drink up every word that pours from your lips like sweet nectar. He will value all the lessons you give him and all the magic you teach him.

At the same time, be prepared to hear him complain about you and Huan always spending time together and ignoring him because he forgets that Huan and you are similar.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Caranthir

Initially, he is aloof before he slowly opens up to your patient and understands the nature of wanting to get to know him better. Moryo is stunned that you managed to notice him among the crowd of six other brothers, thus it makes him more appreciative.

With his desire for peace and tranquillity, he would easily find himself in your presence more often than he expected as time graduates. It’s quite an adorable sight to witness you and Moryo navigating with expressing your emotions.

He is grateful your for peaceful presence being about stability due to his love for quiet support. Most of your time spent will be away from his home and more among nature where he can observe you in your element, likewise the same with him.

With his love for fabrics, he would love when you show your interest by accompanying him to shop or gathering unique patterned clothes for him to work with, even expressing an interest to learn.

The most you would have to deal with are his quick outbursts when displeasure kicks in. As a Maia, you would have seen the Valar distraught before, but witnessing it with someone you were interested in brought new waves of emotions. At least you were gentle to guide him to relief.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Curufin

You’re probably a Maia of crafts or one that surrounds the elements of this world capable of being moulding into tangible objects. Hence your fascination with Curufin the moment you laid eyes on him.

Like his father, he too is fascinated by the nature of you and your knowledge of lore and craft, seeing a potential ally in his pursuits. Your presence would be of great assistance when it comes to offering insights that would enhance his skills.

Many occasions you two can be found working together on projects as you continue to learn more about each other. And you would come to realise that when engrossed in his craft, you can barely squeeze a response out of him.

He too, has his cold temperament that you would come face to face with on numerous occasions, as well as his ruthless ambitions, which would require you to guide him towards a more balanced goal.

One thing to note is his pride when it comes towards your interest in him; he takes it seriously and prays that what you two have develops into something more. It’s not often he opens up to people, so you coming along like the sunshine in his life is something he would cherish, silently.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Amrod and Amras

Let’s say you’re a Maia of adventure, one whose spirit is wild and yearns for tales of far-off places. Amrod and Amras are going to love your presence more than ever, each tailing behind you with eyes and hearts yearning for more.

Together, you and Amrod or Amras would embark on adventures across Valinor into the deep woods and over the mountains, under the hills and around the river bends, telling tales as you go, and teaching them magic tricks (which makes their pranks all the more daring).

Whichever of the twins you are dating, you still get the opportunity to teach them about independence and being their individual, helping them find their identity and take a stand against those who only view them as the same.

There will be lots of fun and playful moments shared between the two of you, while they teach you how to be mischievous so you can play pranks on your fellow Maiar when you return to your sanctuary.

All your time spent around Amrod or Amras will be filled with experiences and endless days of learning new forms of fun. Your relationship will be as though you are two peas in a pod.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Celebrimbor

Like his father and grandfather (because let’s pretend that another Maia wasn’t also interested in him) Tyelpe would be profoundly grateful to learn that a Maia was interested in him and his craftsmanship, wanting to teach and learn alongside him.

You both would spend hours and even days locked up in the forge tinkering to create new majestic pieces of art (please don’t go making the Silmarils 2.0 or the rings, enough people died for those). Plus, you would have the opportunity to bless the objects.

He is deeply grateful that such a divine entity like you would find great interest in him and is willing to openly spend time with him, apart from crafting, to get to know him better. He probably died and was reborn in that moment.

You will be a massive foundation in his life, driving him to pursues his passions and dreams, providing support and respect. Though, as much as you’re a rock in his life, he would probably hide you from his father, wanting to silently be with you.

During those moment, your vast knowledge would be shared and generously absorbed like a sponge because Tyelpe isn’t missing the free opportunity to learn about the world before and around him.

Masterlist

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[abiiors]

Veee could you write something with matty where reader is also an artist (a way less known one) and its just pure fluff with both of them being inspired by one another?

Feel free to ignore ofc!!🫶🫶🫶

muse - matty x reader

a/n: this took a very different direction than originally planned and got slightly existential sorry about that 💀💀 but i hope you like it regardless <33

divider by @/cafekitsune

cw: mentions of smut, talks of death, general fluff and sappiness.

the artist flicks through the feature.

her name is printed in big letters on the cover of the monthly issue, her face--smiling and excited--next to the centrepiece of her latest art collection: cupid and psyche. the painting is stunning, a riot of bold colours and patterns but the at the centre is a man, his face hidden, his jet black curls tousled. his body is relaxed, she thinks there's an air of carefreeness about him.

and she'd know that for sure, after all that day is etched into her memory.

when she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she smiles.

"you're rather proud of the feature, aren't you?" matty's voice holds a little teasing note. she's stared at the feature for close to thirty minutes now, discreetly pinching herself in the same spot on her arm. (it sports a tiny, barely-there bruise now)

"good," matty nuzzles his face into her neck, softly kissing the skin, "you should be. the exhibit was fucking gorgeous."

"mmm, because you were the centrepiece?" fondly, she teases back, but the memory flashes in front of her eyes--the bustling art gallery, matty in a corner, wearing a plain hoodie and jeans and a cap hiding half of his face, absolutely brimming with pride.

she remembers the journalists asking about the man in all the paintings, the one whose face no one can see. "he's my muse," she says every time, "this collection is dedicated to him."

"someone's going to connect the dots," matty walks around her, settling himself next to her on the sofa. instantly, they rearrange themselves into a tangle--her legs on his lap, his arm around her, her head on his shoulders, his head on hers. "if they looked carefully, they'll make the connection."

"matty, we have been each other's muse for years and no one's found out. i don't think they're going to start now. besides," she snorts, "i think the art world thinks i've made you up in my mind. won't be the first time an artist's gone insane."

matty laughs. "maybe you have. you always say i'm too good to be true."

when she can't think of a retort, she sticks her tongue out, shrieking away when he smothers her in kisses.

"seriously though, it's fun writing about you. singing about you. and i love seeing myself through your eyes." suddenly matty sounds all sober and serious. she thinks his voice even wavers slightly at the end. he blinks quickly though, and just like that the brightness in his eyes is gone.

"love it when you write about me too," she teases, "love being called a gemini and a sexy girl, such poetry."

"oi! i put my heart into that! it's a precious memory for me."

"the memory of us fucking in the new bath for the first time?"

matty giggles like a teenager, hiding his face in her hair. it's fun to rile him up like this, so she continues, poking him in the ribs. "or waking up the next day with a head cold because we stayed in the cold water for so long hmm?"

"you took care of me though, and so i think you deserve to have a song written about you. or a whole album works too i think." then matty tuts. "actually, no. don't wanna tell anyone it's about you, that'll ruin the magic."

"ruin the magic?"

"of being your muse and having you as mine. i think a hundred years from now, when people would see your art as the artwork of this generation, and my music as the tune of our times--"

"tune of our times..."

"yeah, quit laughing at me!" matty flicks her nose, quickly kissing it after. "so when my music becomes the tune of our times, i think people will see it then. they will make the connections."

secretly, she loves the idea--that their love might transcend time and space through their art. that decades from now their names might be whispered together, even though they aren't just yet.

"of course, we'll be buried together by then. same grave by the way, very romeo and juliet of us."

"that's morbid!" she laughs sharply, "what will the epitaph say?"

matty hums for a bit, thinking, his eyes flutter shut for a second or two almost like he needs to focus on the half formed thought until it's a complete sentence. then he excitedly clears his throat and gently holds her face between his hands.

"here lie the artist and the muse; inspiring each other in death as they did in life."

[plleeeepppyyyy]

I have a request if you’re doing any!!

Wally Darling x Rockstar Reader

I don’t care what you do with this but I hope you enjoy it!!

Reader is the singer and dancer of the neighborhood! Very happy go lucky, loving, and even a little clumsy. Yet always calm during making music

Which I can picture reader being a great muse. And reader singing a lot to Wally.

this was def fun to write!! all the ideas and cutesy stuff came to me in a flash ngl.. (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

really cute request!! you guys are so creative with these,,,(•̀ᴗ•́)و

wally + singer/rock star reader!

__

♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪

♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫♬♫

••••••••••••••

•this man,,, god,, this man.

•he’s literally ur number one fan girl. he’s there for every performance, writings, everything. you name it he’s there!

•wally just loves watching you in the process of making music, its like an art! to him, it’s wonderful of how passionate you are about it. he adores watching you almost trip on a cord as you just jam out,, doesn’t matter how clumsy you are,, you’re just elegant to him. seeing you so peaceful as you strum on a guitar or something.. 🫶 (if he had a camera he would take a pic of you 200x)

•literally every-time you come up to him with ur newest draft of a song, he gets so excited!! that inner fangirl comes out.,, wally is pretty honest when it comes to stuff. but he just can’t help himself, every song, draft, album,, literally all perfection to him. you cannot do no wrong with that. he buys all of your stuff if you ever sell it. (prolly got a shrine.)

•if you ever write a song based on him,, he would actually cry out of happiness, at least be on the verge of it. you just give the song to him and he’s just like, “it’s so perfect,,,, tysm,,” while he’s on the verge of letting it out. he’ll listen to it every day. :) <3

•bonus points if you write it for your guys’ one year anniversary! that man will be so happy,, he probably would let a few tears out too..,,. like you used your creativeness on little old him?!(!(ಡ‸ಡ) wally would cherish the hell out of that song, he can just mumble out a praise as he’s about to ugly cry. like.. THANK YOU?!(!? (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

•he’ll just grab a hold of you and not let go,, it just makes him feel so happy. he’ll probably cry into ur shirt tho,,

•if you ever had some albums posted out or whatnot, he will put them on his wall. wally would prolly accidentally buy out the whole thing,, like cmon, he’s has to use some of them for display and hearing!! ( ˘ ³˘)

•ur his main inspiration for his art too,, seeing you so into doing what u do, gibes him strength. he will ABSOLUTELY paint tf outta you! literally you guys would be in the same room while he sketches and you just strum your guitar or smth, ack he’s a sucker for moments like those. ur for sure his muse. got ten whole folders of drawings and projects that are meant for you.

•he might even call you his muse tooo! :)

•he asked you once what type of music you were doing and you prolly replied with a random genre he’s never heard up,, and he’d just be like. “ah, that’s wonderful.. can’t wait to hear it.”

•he do NOT give a care,, any genre in his eyes and ears it’s perfection. like said before, you do wrong.

•if ur the type to do sad songs, he’s a little worried. like bby what’s got you so sad? :(

•sometimes (if you offer) he also does stuff with you. to him he thinks he’s better at playing instruments, which is lie he’s hella good at singing.

•he’ll give you ideas, suggestions; whatever you need!

•i literally will say it here, ya’ll do duets with each other. especially with old timey love songs, it’s just cute,,, a bit sappy. but who cares, I IMAGINE you two just singing together. (bonus points if he’s playing a piano,, well trying to,, he needs some practice..)

•every time you put on a performance,, he just sits there with the dopiest smile on with lovestruck written all over him. bro is VERY in love, he could listen to you alll day. if he had a tail it would be wagging. he will never take his eyes off either, all of his attention is on you, just you.

•even if you got a recording studio, he admires how much you get into the music. its so amusing seeing you be so calm during the whole process of making a song, but when you perform your songs. like thats my baby fr!!! wally is ur number one hype man,, i mean this all the way.

(i feel like hes such a sucker for singers,,)

•if ur in a nice suit, dress; whatever while ur singing, agh.. this man is knocked out. ur soo gorgeous,, and you sing?! like, sorry, wally is just in love.

•after one of your performances, once he sees you walking to him, all giddy and stuff. wally ain’t letting you go once you run into his arms, he will keep his arms around you as you just ask if he liked it, thought it was great,, while he’s just nodding and mumbling praises to you. (it’s honestly so sweet to watch you two.) if ur wearing heels or boots, you’re probably towering over him as this happens,, (i honestly find this so sweet, ur jus towering over him, asking him excitedly if he loved it, while he’s just practically sings praises to you. so sweet,,)

•to pick up the instrument part, he will totally help you with demos and drafts by playing the music for you. he’s pretty average on most instruments and would totally drop whatever he had and help you out! (will def help you out with drums, i think its canon that its his main thing,,)

•sing him to sleep, please,, he will eat that up. if you do, he’ll sleep so fast. as said before by me, i don’t think he sleeps much. but with ur singing? knocked out, my brother is dead asleep. what can he say? you’re just a good singer.

•honestly to him, ur like a siren. you’re just too good to be true and sing beautifully. corny he knows but,,, its true <3 (to him.)

•even house loves your singing! if wally needed the help he would call you and try to make house stop with ur singing,,

•the first time he’s ever heard you sing, his mind was blown. how did you sing that good? like all of his other friends could sing,, but you were just different. you sounded different, did things differently.. ack. he fell in love with your voice. as he listened to one of ur song’s for the first time, and ur just anxious. wondering if he’ll like it, or not.. he turns to you. blank stare, and says, “this is the best music i’ve ever heard,, ur so talented..” with just pure adoration and fondness in his eyes.

•which got you SO HAPPY, he loved your songs!!!! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

•sometimes if he feels a bit snarky that day, he’ll brag a bit. just all like, “my s/o is a beautiful singer,, can YOU sing that good? they’re so amazing at what they do, no one can compare…” wally is sometimes a bit of a prick (╥_╥)

•never a prick to you tho, said it before i’ll say it again, to him you do no wrong, see no wrong, hear no wrong, speak no wrong. 🫶

•he makes sure you know that you’ll always be in his corner, all of the time, being ur numba one fangirl! (✯◡✯)

•wally definitely tried making a song for you too,, didn’t go right tho. (٥⁀▽⁀ )

(seriously this dude is crazed over you.)

•you always make sure he’s the first one to hear your songs, after writing a draft you sprint to him and show him it. it makes him so excited too, cause like.. how did he get so lucky that he’s the first person to look and hear your talent?

•this dude just adores you, so much.. like what’s not to love? to him you’re just the peak definition of passion, he enjoys watching you have fun and play music. wally is sorta taking this into seriousness,, but he can’t help it!! he can’t get over how he bagged you, this person who’s a whole peak of inspiration for him. ❤︎︎

•he just loves to support and cherish you, i won’t lie but he’s basically a lovestruck puppy who watches you and everything you do. everyone in the neighborhood can tell.. (¯ ³¯)♡

__________

ACK,, okay i got a bit carried away on some points, but they were jus too cute to not put in.

BUT 1000 NOTES ON EACH OF MY FICSSs?!?! thats insane, thank you guys sm!! (╥_╥) i didn’t think i would get that much positive feedback for these, im rlly glad you guys are liking these!

hope you enjoyed reading this one! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[desultory-novice]

Noir's Field Trip - "Starting Out"

"...Thanks, you two."

-

Ahem! Following in the footsteps of several other Kirby OC contest peeps, you may send in asks for [Noir]!!

(...But I'm SUPER busy so it may take until May to respond! ^^;;)

[Notes/Rules About Asks:]

-I'm iffy on back-and-forth style dialogue-based RP, due to the complex interplay of pseudo-linearity in an amorphous situation plus my autistic-self often being unable to figure out what my RP partner is actually trying to say tone-wise or what they are thinking and then-I-answer-them-wrong-and-embarrass-myself...!!

NVMD SEND WHATEVER YOU WOULD LIKE XD

That and long post-chains make me a little nervous. ^^; Asks in the form of questions Noir can answer in-character are preferred.

(You may also ask me generic "What does your OC think/do when...?" style questions, such as those from THIS detailed OC ask meme!)

-You can also send an ask for Noir from your OC, if you'd like to find out how the troubled teenage boy would react to meeting them! (These may or may NOT(!!) come with art, depending on mood, time, and a variety of circumstances. Tourney OCs will generally get preference. If I AM inspired to draw said meeting, I may request additional information/clarification before going through with it.)

Again, I'm pretty autistic, so if you are going to go this route, it'll help if I have something more than "Hiya, Noir!" to work off of - else he'll just react to you the same way he does to Marx.

(Not that you can't go places from there! XD)

-You can also prod Noir about his traumas if you like! XD Note that asking for details about certain things (the "murders" on Shiver Star or his hatred of physical contact) may result in responses with TRIGGER WARNINGS, if I decide to answer them.

-Tournament!Noir is currently in his own similar but separate timeline from Mainline Apologies Noir. However, events during this contest MAY influence his fate and the fates of those he holds dearest!

-Noir's latent cross-dimension sight means that you can ask him about his various other timelines or Kirby games he was not alive for and probably get some pretty unique/funny/strange answers.

-I almost assuredly won't be able to get to every ask/comment. Some I may avoid answering due to complexity, uncomfortableness, them not fitting tournament!Noir's narrative, or me just not having any good ideas. Please don't take this personally.

-Lastly, please leave space between sending multiple asks. ^^

omg I'm so nervous about this. I want to draw lots, for me and for others (!) too if I can but I want to follow the flow of the tournament and not JUST go off on my own crazy thing, except that I'm not even completely familiar with what the rounds will be like?!

[Non-Ask Notes:]

-The flowers in the BG are the forget-me-nots that Adeleine drew for him on his birthday and that he received in this post. That post was also the inspiration for Tournament!Noir. (Although he retains the corruption + the collar here.)

PS: In addition the song that post is, you know, named for, Noir + the forget-me-nots also makes me think of the lyrics: "Since the day I met you, there's never ceased to be music in this hell of mine" from the opening to Sousei no Aquarion.

-This, and the tag name, was inspired by @Graycoin's comment "Noir gets to go on a field trip. I hope he has a good time : D " (then I saw Starflung had the same idea to send her OC off with a backpack! Haha! XD)

-The fish bone is a gift from Gooey. He's doing his best. Adeleine is also doing HER best. ("...A comb? Really?" "It's unbreakable!")

-As to the bento box, I'm not sure if I mentioned this before (?) but the Fontaine children are French-Japanese...on their mother's side.

-Why yes, that IS a cellphone in his backpack! I wonder who might call him...?

[lamemaster]

The Magician

Request: I feel like it's required for phantom of the opera to be maglor lol! A mask and cloak to hide ears, the light of the Trees,(which could also be why s/o thought of him as an angel!) and his scarred palm. Singing his hauntingly beautiful tragedies into the night, that is where our 'Christine' learned to sing. How very fitting. *Low key inspired by silmapens art of him doing theater*

Pairing(s): Maglor x Reader / (Spoiler) x Reader

Genre: Phantom of the Opera au (hehe)

AN: Fall event yayyyyy~ (Also the way I had half of this thing written before the request is not real. We share the same brain cell anon)

The Shadow, the Wraith—there are many names for the phantom that haunts the halls of Kalis Hala. A sprite whose steps echo at the untimely hours of the night.

Some call him a spirit, others claim he is a man from the East with long, flowing hair, while whispers tell of a doomed elf.

But the theater and its ghost remain inseparable. Entwined in rumors is the Shadow, whose words and music transformed a ramshackle puppet shop into the most esteemed theater in the kingdom.

A legend that holds within it the dreams of hundreds and the tears of thousands. Its backstage hums with the chatter of its artists, its seats brimming with patrons that multiply with each passing day.

Behind the rich, velvety curtains, you stand, clutching a letter. From your confidante, the one whose angelic voice, heard by many, is yet to be linked to a face. The one whose name is engraved on the door of Box Five.

His voice found you in your darkest hour. In the attic of discarded props, you first encountered his mournful notes. And that was how you met him. Ghost to many, the Magician to you.

But tonight, as you prepare to face the crowd for your debut as the lead singer, your heart pounds with uncertainty. In your grasp lies the Magician’s letter—his demands and requirements for tonight’s show.

Your name, written boldly as the lead—a demand that unsettled many. For an unknown nobody from the company to take center stage. Amid the glares and whispers, you murmur his name.

With your eyes closed, you conjure the fleeting image of his flowing black robes of mourning, his nimble fingers wrapped in silken veils, an unchanging presence during your secret meetings. His voice, unlike that of any mortal. His songs that could make you weep, laugh, or slumber at his will.

In the middle of the second act, your eyes find him, and your heart skips a beat.

With renewed fervor, you sing for him, a smile threatening to break across your lips. The rest of the show passes in a blur. As soon as the final note fades, you rush to your changing room, as fast as your feet will carry you.

In the crowded hallway, full of sweaty, euphoric actors, you somehow end up in his arms. You drink in the sight of him as his arms wrap around your waist.

The knight of your dreams.

Tonight, he has decided, tonight will be the night he reveals himself to you—his angel, away from Valinor. The bearer of his songs.

Maglor had watched you perform from the rafters, from the safety of rooms unknown even to the oldest patrons.

Tonight, when the world craves to hold you, he will be the one to claim your time and affection.

And perhaps, in time, you will come to love him—his mask, and beyond. The scars of the Silmaril may yet be healed by the kiss of your lips. You are his salvation.

He waits for you in your changing room, hidden behind the mirror that leads to his secret tunnels. Tonight, you will see him in your reflection.

Barely resisting the urge to claw at his mask, Maglor waits. Any moment now.

From minutes to hours, to the pale sprinkling of dawn, he waits. But you do not come.

His mind races with scenarios—wild, maddening thoughts. Has someone dared lay claim to his prodigy? Did he not make his intentions clear to the patrons?

It isn’t until later that he sees the reason for your absence. The gleaming knight of Rivendell. Once Lord of the House of the Golden Flower—Glorfindel. Seated in the box closest to you, his gaze fixed on you, your careless, fleeting glances in his direction tinkering with your faltering notes.

Your changing room, once overflowing with roses from Maglor, is now invaded by the cheer of the Golden Flower.

With clenched fists, crescent moons imprinted on his palms, Maglor watches as you effortlessly fall into the arms of the golden lord, who tucks back your wayward hair with aching familiarity.

"You must meet him," you prattle cheerfully to the blurred figure of your phantom. "Glorfindel is a friend. A savior. I wouldn't be here—"

Your words die in your throat as an unseen force seizes your lips, silencing you. Panic floods your chest as you look to the Magician. The usual warmth in his presence has been replaced by a chilling cold.

"You skipped four notes tonight," he declares, his voice like ice. "Is this the time for such cheer?" His words echo harshly in the attic.

You stare at him, helpless. It had never crossed your mind that your Magician—the source of your music and song—could wield such cruelty. He had always been your muse, never your fear, despite the rumors that clung to his name.

"Do not succumb to distractions. Stay away from the lordling." His sneer cuts deep, giving you no chance to respond. "Do you understand, my Lark?" he asks, finally releasing the grip he held over your words.

Gasping for air, your gaze meets his, laced with the sting of betrayal. The bond you had so carefully built with the shadow of Kalis Hala now feels fragile, fractured. Beyond the veil, you see him pacing, agitated.

"He is a friend, like you are," you plead, your voice soft. "Glorfindel will cause no harm. He is dear to me." Your words carry the weight of memories—of the time when the elven lord had saved you from the plague that ravaged the village of your birth. "I will not falter again. There will be no err in my music. Not because of him."

"I am the owner of this theater. I am the source of your fame, the music in your words. It would do you well to remember that, my Lark. Do not dismiss my words so willfully." His voice hisses like a venomous snake, fury so intense it feels as though centuries couldn’t contain it.

"Now throw away those jarring yellow flowers and rest for the night," he commands. The rage evaporates, replaced by the familiar tenderness you once knew, leaving you bewildered by the ghost of the opera.

You do not reply. Nor do you offer him reassurance. You will not abandon your friend over an unwarranted tantrum.

That night, you ignore his words for the first time. Leaving the pearls untouched on your dresser, you pull on your shawl and slip into the chilly night, finding yourself on the director’s mare, racing toward the manor on the outskirts of town.

In his arms, you are delightfully human. He can feel the steady rhythm of your heart, and his thumbs trace the warmth of your flushed cheeks. Unbothered by your sweat-slicked brow, Glorfindel presses his forehead gently against yours. "You were marvelous," he whispers, his voice full of elvish delight.

You truly were. Your songs, your voice, the graceful movement of your limbs in perfect sync with the dancers—it was something he would never forget.

Perhaps Lúthien was the fairest elleth to ever walk on Arda, and her dance enchanting enough to lure Beren. But to Glorfindel, you surpassed all legends. He loved you for reasons he couldn’t fully explain.

Why had his reborn heart bound itself to a mere mortal? A woman he had plucked from the very brink of death, whose faint pulse he had nursed back to life.

He loved you because, when everything else in Arda seemed to wither under the corruption of darkness, you lived. You clung to life—and to him.

His thoughts are interrupted by sudden screams. Chaos ripples through the theater, and the sickly sweet smell of death fills the air.

On the stage lies the broken body of a guardsman, crumpled and lifeless. A note is stuffed into his frozen mouth, his face twisted in eternal terror.

Words, elegantly written:

The Elven Lord must return.

The message leaves you pale and trembling in Glorfindel's arms. Your eyes dart around the empty stage, scanning the deserted seats, dread curling at the edges of your mind.

And then as if the familiar sense of dreadful choking returned with the burning gaze of your Magician. His presence- unwavering in the shadows, prowling in on your world.

[crispycreambacon]

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

Try to make room in your skull, but it’s full of them

All of the things that you think and then think about thinking

I know it’s hard, but they're not who you are

They're white noise

— White Noise, Will Wood —

Welcome one and all to "Mashing Two Interests Like Playdough", the first episode is Puppet History x Will Wood, specifically the Substitute x White Noise 'cause holy moly. It fits him so well. Omg.

I had so much fun creating this poster! I'm really proud of how the poses and the rendering turned out even though both gave me a rough time at first </3 I actually had an earlier version of this poster, but I scrapped it because it wasn't doing it for me ngl :,D I'm glad I did though!

Anyways if you'd like to know more about why I think this song fits the Substitute, you can read my interpretation of the lyrics and how they can relate to him below the "Read More" button. You can also find the glitchless + filterless version of the poster there.

Note: A lot of this is speculation on my part, and you don't need to conform to this reading. This is just how I perceive him.

They paint the walls with colors that you're not meant to notice

They fill the halls with tunes you can't get into your head

Let's establish the obvious: The Substitute can't feel. The extent of his unfeelingness is unknown, but what is known is that he can't taste and can't have the sensation of touch. This may lead to him being isolated due to his inability to relate to experiences both humans and his fellow puppets seem to have, particularly the experiences of the one he is based on.

Yeah, it sorta sounds like a retro top-40 but wrong

You're not meant to sing along

It isn't that kind of song

It's white noise

Despite his unfeelingness, he still wants to have the experiences others have. After all, he literally almost killed someone just to have that chance, but his plan is not entirely well-thoughout. How was he going to dispose Ryan's body without getting caught? How was he going to sew the skin onto himself and dispose the rest of it? What was he going to do after he finally what he asked for?

In a way, he was doomed to fail. He was never meant to gain sentience anyway, let alone have the desire to feel like his counterpart. His existence is a complete accident. Now he has to deal with the consequences of actions he never even had a hand in doing.

But if you listen closely I swear, to God I swear

You can hear the ocean if you hold it up to your ear

This lyric directly inspired the pose of the Substitute listening to the conch shell. He has memories of some of the most wonderful sensations on Earth yet he can't connect with any of them. Perhaps when no one was looking, he tries to recreate some of them in a desperate attempt to find a scrap of semblance of feeling and gets increasingly frustrated with his inability to understand them.

Is it any wonder that he would do anything to regain that scrap of enjoyment? To end his torturous experience by any means necessary?

Its personality's a lack of identity

The entire second verse in general speaks about the meaningless of art and how people try to give it meaning anyway. The Substitute's only purpose was to replace the Professor either to console a dead mass or to continue the show. Now that the Professor is back... What can he do?

Moreover, he's also never allowed to have an identity of his own. Since he's meant to be a perfect copy of someone else, especially someone who's presumed to be dead, he can never really deviate from that role because it would break the illusion the puppets created to cope with their grief. No matter what his desires are, he can never really explore any of them because no one is allowing him to do so.

Also, the way the orchestra swells during this part kinda calls back to theatrical music for me. I feel like the Substitute would enjoy performace arts. His bombastic musical number implies he had a flair for the dramatics, and despite his lack of feeling, his expression of his ambitions is quite dramatic.

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

This can relate to how the Subtitute is forced to relive the memories of the Professor despite not being able to experience the emotions connected with them. In a way, he has to so that he could remind himself of his motivations. Remembering the joy the Professor got through feeling would keep him going on this path in the hopes that some day, he could feel that joy too.

I know it's hard

But they're not who you are

They're white noise

This line can be taken in two ways. One is based on the speculated official meaning of the outro which is centered on intrusive thoughts. No doubt the Substitute deals with homicidal thoughts, but I wonder if he truly believes in them. Does he genuinely enjoy indulge in them, or does he act on them because it's all that he knows? For all the talk about him having the Professor's memories, at the end of the day, he was crudely coded for one simple purpose. His thoughts are very simplistic—as seen with how quickly he jumps to murder as the most logical solution for his problem—and I wonder if he was given a chance to grow beyond his purpose, he could've reliazed that homocide was not the right course of action.

The other way, which is likely more relevant, relates back to the Substitute being intrinsically tied to the Professor. His thoughts, his memories and his actions are all in a way influenced by the Professor. But it didn't have to be this way. As unlikely as it is, he could've had a life where he discovered his own interests and his own personality outside of being "the evil Professor". If he had gotten to learn more about the world on his own, if he had been able to act not as the Professor but as himself, he would've been able to develop more and find that joy he was missing. He could've had a life.

Unfortunately, he was never given that chance, and it is unlikely that he ever will be.

[valiantstarlights]

[The Proposal AU] The Bachelorette Party

Previous Chapter: The Babymaker Blanket

I told @valeriianz I imagined Corinthian being the stripper character in this AU, and this is me having no self-control because I just started writing about it as soon as I said it. 😂 (Also tagging @voukkake because this AU is inspired by her art. 😊)

The song playing at Dream's bach party is Pony by Ginuwine because it's the most stripper-y song I could think of rn 🤷‍♀️

CW: Stripper Corinthian, strictly hobsexual Dream, tabletop games, and as a treat, seductive Dream (towards Hob) 😏

"Bye, Hob!" Jo calls as she drags a very confused Dream behind her. "We're going to see Cori for Dream's bach party!"

Dream hears a crash from the kitchen as Hob rushes towards them, still holding a potato peeler, looking wild-eyed and frantic. "You're going to see Corinthian? For Dream's bach party?"

"That's literally what I just said," Jo says as she starts to put on her shoes. Dream just stands between them, baffled at Jo's flippancy while Hob looks increasingly apprehensive. "You gone deaf or something?"

"Absolutely not," Hob says. "Dream--"

"--is allowed to have a bach party organized for him even when you declined to have your own," Jo continues. "And besides! I wanna get some calamari from The New Inn after. We'll be back soon." She glances at Dream and smiles innocently. "Or maybe it's just me and Gran who will be back soon."

Dream turns to Hob. "Corinthian?"

"He's a part-time stripper," Hob says.

"A very sexy one," Jo adds. "He might make you rethink marrying my brother, actually."

Dream doesn't know who this Corinthian fellow is, but he definitely, definitely thinks he's not going to cheat on Hob with him. Even if he and Hob aren't actually a real couple.

"I doubt it," Dream says to Jo. "I am quite set on marrying your brother." To Hob, he says, "I will be back soon, my love. Do you wish for me to get you anything while we're out?"

"No," Hob says. There's an intense look in his eyes that Dream doesn't know how to decipher. "I don't need anything else. I just want you to come back home to me."

Dream...doesn't quite know how to handle that, but he's pretty sure the tips of his ears are getting redder by the second.

Jo makes a retching sound. "Both of you are disgusting, but I'm still taking Dream to his own bach party. Now come on! Even Gran is already there!"

"I'll see you soon, love," Hob tells him, and leans forward to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. His eyes are dark, and more than once Dream sees him glancing down towards his lips.

He nods mutely, wishing he had the courage to reciprocate--for pretend purposes, of course, since Jo is considered part of the audience they're trying to sell their romance to--but in the end, he does nothing and just puts on his shoes before turning around to follow Jo out of the house.

--

Corinthian, it turns out, is the flirty waiter from the welcome party.

"I thought you were a waiter," Dream says as Corinthian slowly stalks towards where he's sitting in the middle of the stage, sexily taking his shirt off. Around them, people (mostly the women of the town) started hooting and hollering as Corinthian's muscled upper body is revealed, and he bodyrolls a little to the music, one hand on the backrest of Dream's chair.

"I can be anything you want, dreamboat," Corinthian says huskily. Dream cringes at the nickname, but allows Corinthian to dance nearer. "No? Too on the nose?"

"Quite," Dream says. "Do you really have to do this entire routine?"

Corinthian shrugs, but even that looks seductive when paired with his half-lidded eyes. "It pays the bills better than being a part-time waiter."

Dream sighs as Corinthian starts grinding and humping the air in front of his face. Dream understands that he must endure this for the sake of wedding traditions, but the music playing over the speakers irritates him, with the hook sounding like someone saying 'bleugh' over and over again.

"This doesn't do anything for you?" Corinthian asks. When Dream shakes his head, he chuckles but still very professionally continues his routine. Dream blanches as Corinthian moves his pelvis closer to Dream's face--still not making physical contact, but definitely too close for comfort. "A pity. 'Cause, not gonna lie, dreamboat, you're pretty cute."

Dream lifts his left hand where Hob's fake engagement ring sits prettily on his ring finger.

Corinthian just lifts both his hands up in a peaceful gesture, then starts unbuttoning his trousers and swaying side to side, his long legs straddling Dream's thighs. More hoots and cheers as Corinthian unzips and teasingly runs the tips of his fingers over his bulge.

"Noted," he says, as the song keeps 'bleugh'-ing in the background. "But feel free to spank me anyway. It'll get me extra tips for the night."

Dream doesn't like the way Corinthian winked when he said the word 'tips,' but what he says next is even worse. "And hey, I promise I'll try my best not to cum when you do. Your fingers look so pretty I want to choke on them."

"This is sexual harassment," Dream says futilely as, with a single rip of the fabric, Corinthian tears his trousers off completely and throws the ruined clothing towards the crowd, where Grandma Johanna successfully catches it one-handed.

"Spank me," Corinthian says to Dream as he starts to gyrate in front of his face again, this time while running his hands over his abs and pecs. "Before they inevitably peer-pressure you to do it."

"What?"

Right on cue, a large beefy guy in the crowd yells, "Spank him!"

"Smack his ass!" an old lady's voice adds. Dream recognizes it as Grandma Johanna's friend Betty's voice.

"Give him a proper lap dance, Cori!" Jo shouts.

Corinthian helpfully turns around and bends over, looking over his shoulder coquettishly as he gives Dream quite the view of his toned legs and shapely buttocks. His black thong doesn't really leave much to the imagination, especially when he's bent over like this. "Go on, dreamboat," Cori says, smiling widely and lasciviously. "It's a show. But if it makes it easier for you, spank me like how Hob spanks you."

And. Of course, Dream thinks. Of course it's a show. This entire trip is a show, and he's supposed to be acting like his life depends on it. Because it does. His life--everything he built for himself away from his toxic parents, depends on how well he acts like the beloved fiancee of this small town's golden boy.

Dream imagines Hob, with his lazy morning smiles, and his strong arms, and his capable manner in the workplace. If Hob ever spanks him, it would be because of something Dream had done. Something unforgivably naughty. If Hob ever spanks him in a sexual way, it would be like--

Dream lifts his dominant hand and strikes Corinthian's ass like how he imagines Hob would spank him if he had been a brat all day. It's easy to imagine, because Dream often feels like a brat, especially when he orders Hob around unnecessarily, asking him to get complicated coffee orders and making him work overtime even when Dream is fairly sure he can get the work done by himself. It's just, Hob is so competent and amazing at what he does, and surely two heads are better than one. And if Hob sometimes unbuttons his cuffs and rolls his shirt sleeves up, exposing his forearms--

The sound echoes throughout the room, and Corinthian's small moan of "oh fuck," and "Daddy," is lost as the crowd goes absolutely wild.

--

"Hey," Hob says as Dream enters his bedroom. He's sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, open book held in one hand. He doesn't look like he has made much progress. "Welcome back."

"You shouldn't have stayed up," Dream says as he looks at the wall clock pointedly. It shows that it's well past midnight. He and Jo just got back, with Grandma Johanna returning hours before they did.

Jo had dragged him over to The New Inn to get her calamari and, as luck would have it, it turns out that tonight is game night at the inn--a fact that Johanna definitely knows--and Dream was roped into playing Cards Against Humanity and half a dozen other tabletop games with names like Carcassone, which was probably inspired by the French city with the same name, and Tsuro, which means 'route' in Japanese.

(Jo called him a nerd when he took out his phone to get the English translation of the game's name.)

(And yes, apparently, Corinthian also part-times at The New Inn during game nights, where he becomes the DM to a group playing Dungeons and Dragons. Dream was mortified when Corinthian saunters up to him and leans over to whisper in his ear, "Fancy seeing you here at my other workplace, Daddy Dreamboat.")

(He's pretty sure Jo and everyone at their table heard everything.)

"Yeah, well," Hob says, which isn't much of an answer at all. "How was your party?" he asks, when Dream takes off his coat and hangs it on a coat hook behind the door.

"Exhausting," Dream replies honestly. He didn't think Jo would have that much energy in her body, but apparently, he was wrong. She must have drank more than ten cups of coffee before they went out today.

"Yeah?" Hob says, his voice sounding strangely tight.

"Yes," Dream says. "Your sister has too much energy and the appetite of a blue whale. She must have eaten three family-sized plates of calamari by herself, and beat me thoroughly at Sheriff of Nottingham. It's a pity The New Inn doesn't have Scrabble, or I would have decimated everyone at the table."

"Oh," Hob says, and now he sounds relieved. Dream is too tired to parse out what the tone of his voice meant at the moment, but he will definitely be examining it at a later time. "Yeah, no. I can't beat Jo at Sheriff of Nottingham either. She always knows when I have contraband cards."

Dream huffs a laugh as he goes to the ensuite, keeping the door cracked open a little as he changes his clothes and does his nightly routines. "I managed to smuggle golden apples past her tonight, and she accused me of trying to start a war, which was very nice of her."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Hob says from the bedroom. "Game nights at The New Inn are really fun."

Dream hums and starts washing his face. "I saw a game that looked promising on the shelves, but the owner wouldn't take it down for us to play because Jo already borrowed too many."

"What was the game?"

"Betrayal at House on the Hill."

Hob laughs a full-bellied laugh at that, and the Dream in the mirror blushes and ducks his head at the sound. "Of course it's Betrayal," Hob says. "Remind me to bring you to the New Inn next game night, and I'll play with you."

Dream's hand pauses as he applies his night cream on his face. He knows Hob meant 'I'll play with you' in an innocent way, but the note of warm laughter in his voice made the chill from Dream's bones melt entirely.

It's a sensation he did not feel even when Corinthian explicitly told him he wanted to choke on his fingers while dirty dancing in front of him.

He hurries to finish his nightly routines.

"So?" Hob asks, when Dream had been quiet for too long. "You interested?"

He is, but perhaps not in playing the horror-themed game they're currently talking about. Still, he says, "Yes," and is glad that his voice does not shake, even when his hands do as he arranges the creams and serums in his travel toiletry bag. "The game looks very intriguing."

"If you like that, then I think you'll love the other dark or horror-themed games available at The New Inn. Like Nemesis, which is...a lot, or Gloom, which I think you'll win every time. Or, hey, maybe they still have Unspeakable Words. It's not quite Scrabble, but Jo will agree to play because she adores the little Cthulhu minis."

Dream re-enters the bedroom just then, clad in Hob's old university shirt and his own side split shorts, and watches as Hob's Adam's apple bob as he takes him in. "Will you play with me?"

Hob blinks and his eyes lift from looking at Dream's legs to his face. "Wha--huh?"

Dream smiles. "All the games you mentioned," he says, then crawls into bed--not seductively, he doesn't think he can quite manage that, but slower than usual. More intentional. "Will you play all of them with me? Teach me all the rules and go easy on me?"

"Yeah," Hob says, and shifts a little to make more space for Dream on the bed. Or perhaps to shift the fall of the blankets over his covered lower half. Dream unconsciously licks his lips. "I'll...yeah."

"Then I'm looking forward to it," Dream says. Then, with the courage he lacked earlier that evening, he leans closer and kisses Hob's cheek. "Good night, Hob," he says, lips brushing against Hob's stubble, their breaths mingling together.

"Good night," Hob replies belatedly, when Dream is already lying in bed and has turned on his side so he's facing the windows. He turns off the lamp on his side of the bed and says in the dark, "Sweet Dream."

Dream smiles and subtly nuzzles against his pillow--Hob's pillow, which smells like Hob, and pretends that he's actually resting his head against Hob's strong chest.

He falls asleep with a small smile on his face.

[kykeee]

Hello! I'm hosting a drawing challenge this October called Songtober! The goal of the month is to create art inspired by songs which correlate with the prompts listed.

Please tag your art with #songtober2024 !

For anyone confused about what any of the prompts mean, here's a list with more detailed descriptions;

1. Childhood

A song from your childhood.

2. Love

A song about love. The definition is loose! Could be platonic love, toxic love, heartbreak, etc.

3. Instrumental

A song with no vocals.

4. Hidden gem

Any song you feel is unknown/underrated.

5. Guitar solo

Any song with a guitar solo.

6. Rest!!

7. Sad

A sad song.

8. Guilty pleasure

Any song you'd be embarrassed to play in the car ride.

9. Fast

A song with a fast paced rhythm and/or vocals.

10. Slow

A song with a slow paced rhythm and/or vocals.

11. Piano

Any song that noticeably features piano.

12. Rest!!!

13. Abrupt end

A song that ends abruptly.

14. Fade out

A song that fades out.

15. Happy

A song that makes you feel happy!

16. Recently discovered

A song you've recently discovered.

17. No MV/Album art

For this prompt, you need to get creative without existing visuals. You can base your drawing on the lyrics, tone, etc.

18. Rest!!

19. Precious

A song that you hold close to your heart.

20. Cute

A cute song! This is loose definition, could be cute-creepy if you want.

21. Two or more singers

A song with multiple singers.

22. Most Listened To

Your most listened to song this month/year/all time. Your choice!

23. Drum Solo

A song with a drum solo.

24. Rest!!!!

25. Funny

A funny song! Again, definition is loose.

26. Song Swap

Exchange recommendations and draw art inspired by the song you got in return. Could be with anyone, they don't have to be doing the challenge as well!

27. Violin

A song that noticeably features violin.

28. Story

A song that tells a clear story with a beginning, middle, and end. (Examples: Lamprey Hole, Stomach Book, Kagerou Daze.)

29. Shuffle

Press shuffle for a random song! Could use all of your music or a specific playlist.

30. Spooky

A scary song!! Get spooky!!!!

[a-s-levynn]

A Series of Small Offerings

or a Sleep Token prompt list based on lyrics

A 4 part art challenge that can be an extensive several weeks long endeavour or you can pick and choose the part(s) that interest you the most.

Big or small, wonky or beyond artistic, just a scribble or a masterpiece; drawing, sculpture, drabble, full on fanfic or even a piece of music? Everything has a place here so long you enjoy creating it. No offering is too small to be a worthy one. 🫶🏻

Pick one (or even both) of the lines from the given song. Take it as literal or abstract as an inspiration as you feel fitting and let the creativity flow.

Worship. 🙏🏻

(edited version with Shelter added, a line switched for TMBTE, corrected Blood Sport lyrics)

PART I - ONE, TWO and the singles

Thread the Needle

You turn the lights down / Come on and find out or Just look at where we're lying / An invisible space

2. Fields of Elation

The daylight recedes in unison, this room / Buries the hours like death, in motion or And nobody else can pull me out / And the fields of elation, quiet and loamy

3. When the Bough Breaks

We could stay suspended / Even when the bough breaks or You don't really love, you just hate to be alone

4. Calcutta

I sweat and I ache for / Your eyes and the way you breathe or Melting skywards more than silence broken / I'm whole again for just a moment

5. Nazareth

Building you a kingdom / Dripping from the open mouth, [I'll show you] or Manifest pain at the core of pleasure / I'll see you when the wrath comes around

6. Jerico

Tread, ancient water salt / Like I sink, down like precious stones or My hands are not worthy

7. Jaws

The whites of your eyes burn / From across the room or Caged and always provoked / By prey left unattended

8. The Way That You Were

To tear that knife from what once / Would have been dead fingers or And you will no longer / Stand between collapsing walls

PART II - Sundowning

The Night Does Not Belong To God

The whites of your eyes / Turn black in the lowlight in turning divine or And the night comes down like heaven

2. The Offering

And you are a garden, entwined with all / You are the silence on sacred shores or So take a bite, I want to know

3. Levitate

And we imitate a story of perfect days / A ballad we fabricate or Will you levitate / Up where my love doesn't matter?

4. Dark Signs

And where we met, there must have been dark signs / Omens in your skies or And I hate who I have become (I might break and bend to my basic need to be loved and close to somebody)

5. Higher

And we are exhausted by all this pretending / We just can't resist the violence or When you're alone / I am granting you more than / The debt that I owe

6. Take Aim

And it sends me shivers / How you love like weapons kill or Call, won't you call out my name? / Like a curse on this world?

7. Give

I'll tear the fibre from the filament / I'll be the limit of your light again or Want to give you all that I can give / All my darkest impulses

8. Gods

No more teeth to bite with / No more smiling faces i am alone again or Like fire from the heavens / Tearing me asunder beside you

9. Sugar

We still know how to feed / We still know how to bleed or Let me wrap the chains / Addicted to the pain, oh

10. Say That You Will

Is that a glint in your eye? / Is that a blade in your palm? or In this light you are mine

11. Drag Me Under

And I know the gods will abandon the heavens just to find us or Hold me beneath the surface (And I know the angels tonight are as lost for words)

12. Blood Sport

Even if the sky cracks in mourning / And the heavens just won't open up for me or Tangled with what I never said / You say it doesn't matter

13. Shelter

When it rains, you don't take shelter / You don't take signs from God or And as you become part of my waking rituals, I can tell / You gather up all of my demons

PART III - This Place Will Become Your Tomb

Atlantic

Crumble like a temple built from future daughters / To wasteland when the oceans recede or So flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothing / Wash away the blood on my hands

2. Hypnosis

Lift, oh, lift me out / Of my own skin or Split my skin, no / Just make me bleed

3. Mine

We balance fire in the earth we walk / Will never stop me reaching forth or With colors over all the wasted years / Eternity will bring you near

4. Like That

New weapons to snap those final strings / Just to watch me fall back or Push down into membranes and layers / Creating a slow dissection

5. The Love You Want

Too many swallowed keys / Will make you bleed internally someday, oh or Now keep the freakshow talk / To a careful minimum

6. Fall For Me

In a city of ice there are burning cathedrals / Turning the skies into glass or And I feel like I'm losing touch with what I am again / And slowly I remember why I cannot pretend

7. Alkaline

It's too late for me now, I am altered / There is something beneath or I see in a different light / The objects of my desire

8. Distraction

'Cause I am broken into fractions / Oh, and I am driven to distraction or Something much more than I could ask for

9. Descending

Create, release or My love withers and chokes in perfect awe

10. Telomeres

And we go beyond the farthest reaches / Where the light bends and wraps beneath us or Through death / My arms are open

11. High Water

When the mouth of infinity / Buries its teeth in me or Wash me clean again before I pull myself beneath the waves

12. Missing Limbs

The blessings rain on battles in the heaven's arms or 'Cause it still makes my blood run cold / To remember what I did before

PART IV - Take Me Back To Eden

Chokehold

A sacred guardian or Even if I can't sleep / Oh, and though we act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake

2. The Summoning

A taste of the divine or Take me past the edge / I want to see the other side

3. Granite

Between the second hand smoke and the glass on the street or Never mind the death threats / Parting at the door

4. Aqua Regia

Following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw or Between the pain and the way you look / I'm stuck in a time where the mountains shook

5. Vore

You have become the voice in my head or Will we remain stuck in the throat of gods? / Will the pain stop if we go deeper?

6. Ascensionism

Your reflection, your bitter deception / Setting you free or With one eye on the door, other eye on a rail / Other, other eye following a scarlet trail

7. Are You Really Okay?

I was trying to hold back the darkness or But I, I don't believe you when you tell me you are fine

8. The Apparition

I wake up to a suicide frenzy / Loaded dreams still leave me empty or Just let me go or take me with you

9. DYWTYLM

Do you pull at the chains? / Or do you push into constant aching? or Do you ever believe / That we can turn into different people?

10. Rain

Refracted in light, reflected in sound or And I know, I know, I am what I am / The mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb

11. Take Me Back To Eden

We dive through crystal waters, perfect oceans / But no one told me not to breathe or I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired / Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher

12. Euclid

The night belongs to you / This bough has broken through or The whites of your eyes / Turn black in the low light

Thank you so much if you took any part of this on or just read through it.

Never forget, that the most important thing is that no matter what,

Worship 🙏🏻