#another masterpiece of horror art

[goryhorroor]

art of junji ito

[zu-is-here]

coming soon ♪

[luvyeni]

( drabble ) my beautiful muse ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 황현진 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ you're his beautiful muse and he'd do anything to keep his muse safe ヾ

yandere!hyunjin・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ yandere, smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ unprotected sex‎, breeding kink, dirty talk, talks of killing wc・ ‎0.7k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can i request a yandere smut with hyunjin please 💕

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy<3

a collector of art; that's what hyunjin was. he collected many pretty art pieces and other things he deemed as beautiful — that's why when he saw you , he knew he had to have you; you were his new muse.

you weren't allowed to leave; no , hyunjin didn't want the horrors of the world to tarnish his pretty masterpiece — so you stayed at home while he went out and sold his paintings, earning enough money to buy you pretty clothes, that's the only thing that mattered to him , keeping you looking pretty for him; he even took makeup class , and learned how to do hair so he could make you all pretty , so he can spend his free time painting his pretty muse.

“can i move now?” you sat on the stool , hair done to the nines , a new expensive dress. “not yet , im almost finished.” he said , dipping his paintbrush into the paint. “but im tired.” you whined , he sighed. “okay baby , okay just let me take a picture of you , i can use this as a reference for now.” he pulled out his polaroid camera , which he used to capture photos of you , it was quick and easy , but he loved to paint you the most , he believed it to be more beautiful. “there we go baby , we can stop now.”

“i think this one can go into my next exhibit,” he said. “as much as i don't think the world deserves to see you, this can't just stay here , they need to see you , how i have the most prettiest piece at home.” “can i go with you to see it?”

he hated that question , frowning while looking at you. “you know the answer to that.” he said , you nodded. “yeah i know i just thought — that's why we don't that baby you know you aren't the best at that.” he sat the photo down , walking over to you. “you look so pretty baby.” his hands coming up to your bare shoulders. “i dress you up so nicely don't i?” he hummed. “do your makeup so pretty?” he dragged his arm down to the back of the dress where the zipper was. “you don't need to go out , all you have to do is stay here and be pretty.”

the dress falling to your waist; you perfect tits on display. “so pretty , let's take this back to the room okay.” you nodded obediently , following behind him as he guided you to your shared room .

rocking his hips; his cock dragging in and out of you, he had been at this for a few hours now , you never had to work when it comes to fucking hyunjin , much like your everyday life he did everything ; eating out until your yanking at his hair , closing your head around his head. then he'd finger you , preparing you for his cock while also pulling another orgasm out of you.

by time he pulls his cock out , you're already in tears , and he loves this , you're the prettiest when you're teary eyed from his cock. “pretty pretty baby.” he cooed , “such a cry baby for my cock , you like it.” he groaned , stretching you out with his cock. “my muse , all mines.”

“hyu-hyunjin.” you moaned , his fingers toying with your clit , your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “prettier than anything i've ever painted.” he cursed. “got-gotta keep you here , so they won't hurt you.” he began to plow into you much harder. “fuck , fuck i'll kill anyone who looks at you.” he moaned , gripping your wrist pinning them to the bed. “that's why i can't let you outside -fuck- im afraid of what might happen; what i might do if someone who looks at what mines.”

as he pounded into you , you opened your eyes for a split second , and you could see in his eyes, they looked dark , like he actually meant what he was saying. “you’re mine aren't you.” he sped up. “all fucking mines.” you nodded. “all yours hyune , fuck!”

“then you wouldn't mind carrying my baby?” he groaned. “you'd look the most beautiful carrying my child , stuck to me forever.” he moaned. “gonna cum inside you.”

pinning you down; his hips snapped against you. “hyune gonna cum.” you moaned. “good , cum with me , cum for me while i breed your pretty pussy.” he groaned. “cum for me.” you gasped out , cumming , he fucked into a few more times before cumming deep inside you with a loud groan. “fuck!”

“gonna make sure it sticks.” he said. “no one's gonna hurt you.” he said , kissing your forehead. “i won't allow it.”

“my beautiful muse.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

"Darling, bad luck seems endless." - Bucky Barnes - 2

Summary: You've always been haunted by bad luck your entire life, despising it deeply, until you meet someone who finds it amusing.

Character: softdark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 .

Author's Note: Hello, everyone; this story is for thesleepover eventhosted by @the-slumberparty. What I chose is a strawberry sundae with gummy bears as the topping.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Bucky didn’t trust you yet. To test if what you said about your lousy luck was true, he sent you to his competitor, Damien, a mafia boss who owed money to Bucky.

Damien spent most of his time at a museum. Bucky gave you an order, “And I want to see if what you said is true.”

You didn’t thoroughly dislike the idea because, as an artist, you enjoyed going to museums. The museum was a grand, historical building with high ceilings and intricate architecture. Walking through the halls filled with timeless masterpieces, you felt a sense of calm despite the task at hand.

As you wandered, you spotted Damien. He was exactly as Bucky had described: an older man, about the same age as Sir Galileo, with an air of authority and a sharp gaze. You stood at a respectful distance, admiring the same painting he was fixated on—"Portrait of Madame X."

Noticing your interest, Damien turned to you. “A fine piece, isn’t it?” he said, his voice rich and cultured. “John Singer Sargent’s ‘Portrait of Madame X’. It caused quite a scandal when it was first exhibited.”

You listened intently as he explained the history and significance of the painting. His passion for art was evident, and you found yourself genuinely engaged in the conversation.

Suddenly, your phone rang. It was Bucky. “Where’s the bad luck? I see you talking to him without anything happening,” he demanded.

“Uhm…” You hesitated. You never knew when bad luck would strike.

Just then, a scream pierced the air. “Kyaa!”

You turned to see another visitor pointing in horror. The painting you had been admiring had fallen off the wall, landing dangerously close to Damien. You were too stunned to speak.

“No kidding,” Bucky muttered through the phone, equally shocked. It seemed impossible for a securely hung painting to suddenly fall in a museum. He was beginning to believe your curse might be real.

For the second test, Bucky sent you to a café. “Just choose a table and sit near my other competitor, Ivan. It’s an easy task,” he instructed.

You entered the cozy café, its atmosphere warm and inviting with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. You found a table near Ivan and started sketching another jewelry design for Bucky.

Ivan, seated nearby, glanced over and noticed your drawing. “That’s quite impressive,” he remarked, leaning in slightly.

“Thank you,” you replied, offering a polite smile.

“What inspires your designs?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Before you could answer, a waitress tripped and spilled a hot cup of coffee right onto Ivan’s thigh. He yelped in pain and surprise, the conversation abruptly ending.

Bucky, watching everything unfold on a screen, was astounded. “You really do bring bad luck.”

“...” You remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

“But I’m getting all the advantages,” Bucky continued with a sly grin. “Thank you.”

You didn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved that Bucky was starting to believe you.

The last incident that convinced Bucky was when he brought you to a ball party hosted by another gangster whom Bucky despised, who was there to show off his wealth.

The host planned to reveal a rare diamond during the party, but it was stolen. This was unexpected and seemingly impossible due to the high level of security. While everyone else panicked, Bucky remained calm. He looked at you and said, "You’re my lucky charm."

🍀🍀🍀🍀🍀

All these experiences made your once dull life exciting. You started to appreciate the bad luck you had. You realized that working with Sir Galileo was the longest job you had ever held.

One day, you asked him if he had ever faced misfortune. Surprisingly, he said, “I did. My former driver got into an accident, and the electricity short-circuited on the first day you worked here.”

You were shocked and felt guilty. “It must be because of me.”

He shook his head and said, “It’s nothing. I’ve lived a long time and faced a lot of things, especially working with gangsters and mafia. I just keep on living.”

‘Just keep on living.’ He’s right. Even with bad luck, you continued living. Life always punched you to the ground, but you got back up again.

Slowly, you started liking your bad luck. You experienced exciting events, even assisting Bucky in getting rid of his rival businesses.

But then you noticed that your bad luck didn’t happen as often. In fact, you started getting lucky.

You found $100 on the street one day, got a free coffee when the barista mistakenly made an extra, and even won a small prize in a local raffle. It felt like life was turning around.

Curious, you revisited the same paranormal. She said, “Bad luck left after you started liking it.”

“How?” you asked, bewildered.

“It’s complicated,” she replied with a knowing smile.

You still couldn’t believe it. You remembered the saying, “Fall in love with your problems, and maybe they will leave you too.”

Damn. Even bad luck left you.

If there was no bad luck, how could you help Bucky?

Since then, you stopped meeting Bucky, leaving him wondering. Days turned into weeks, and Bucky felt your absence deeply. Determined, he went to find you.

“Do you think I only wanted you because of your bad luck?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

“Didn’t you?” you replied, your heart pounding.

Bucky stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I said before, you’re the only woman who’s willing to risk her life for me.”

You felt a warmth spread through you as he spoke. "Bucky, I—"

He interrupted, "It's not just your bad luck. It's you. You're brave, resilient, and you’ve changed my life in ways I never expected. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you."

You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that took your breath away. "I never thought I'd hear you say that," you said softly.

"I mean it," he replied, taking your hand in his. "You bring something into my life that no one else ever has. Bad luck or not, I want you with me."

For a moment, you hesitated, memories of your past misfortunes flashing through your mind. But then you realized that with Bucky, you had faced and overcome those challenges together. And now, without the constant shadow of bad luck, you felt a new kind of strength.

"You really mean it?" you asked, needing to be sure.

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I do. We make a great team. And I want us to continue, no matter what comes our way."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and joy wash over you. "Alright, Bucky. Let's face the future together."

With that, he pulled you into a tender embrace, holding you close. "Thank you," he whispered. "For everything."

You looked up at him, your heart full. "Thank you for believing in me."

From that moment on, your life with Bucky was filled with new adventures, challenges, love, and support. Together, you faced whatever came your way, more vital than ever. And you knew that, no matter what, you would always have each other.

-the end-

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@chemtrails-club

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@buckysdoll85

@lokislady82

[luvzshy]

Harmonious Nights

Summary: In the comfort of your shared home, you balance your passion for music with a playful relationship with Billie Eilish. As you navigate life together, you find inspiration in your creative space, while Billie adds her unique flair and support.

Word Count: Approximately 2,500 words.

Warnings: Fluff, humor, light angst, sarcasm.

The soft glow of the string lights hung above your home studio, creating an inviting atmosphere. The walls were adorned with framed posters of classic bands, and your drum kit took center stage. With a set of sticks in hand, you sat at the kit, feeling the familiar buzz of excitement as you prepared to dive into another session.

Just as the first beat reverberated through the room, the door creaked open, and in walked Billie Eilish. Her deep brown hair reflected the warm light, and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. She leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, and tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

“What’s up, rockstar?” she teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Gonna wake the neighbors again with your ‘drumming skills’?”

“Excuse me,” you shot back, rolling your eyes dramatically. “This is pure artistry you’re witnessing, Billie. Not everyone can appreciate the complexities of a paradiddle.”

Billie laughed, stepping further into the room. “Right, because the world is just dying to hear your ‘paradiddles’ at three in the morning.”

You chuckled, a grin spreading across your face. “Well, I’d argue it’s better than your midnight snack escapades, but we both know you wouldn’t survive without your stash of chips.”

“Oh, come on,” Billie retorted, mock offense in her tone. “I can’t help it if I have a refined palate. You know, potato chips are a culinary masterpiece.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you picked up the rhythm again, letting the beats flow. Billie watched for a moment, admiring the way you lost yourself in the music. It was one of the things she loved most about you—the passion, the way you poured everything into your art.

“Okay, but seriously,” Billie said, leaning against the wall, “do you think we could maybe jam together sometime? You know, I can actually sing.”

You paused, turning to her with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “Sing? Billie, darling, you know you have to leave some talents for the rest of us mortals.”

Billie gasped, hand clutching her chest in mock horror. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’m an acclaimed artist.”

“An acclaimed artist who sings in the shower and has an entire album about being sad,” you quipped, laughter dancing in your eyes.

“Touché,” Billie replied, a chuckle escaping her lips. “But I can still hold my own against your drumming. Just wait till I unleash my hidden talent on you.”

“Hidden talent? What’s next, you’re going to tell me you can play the bagpipes too?”

She winked, pushing herself off the wall and stepping closer. “Only for very special occasions.”

“Great, now I’m worried about what ‘special occasion’ means,” you said, shaking your head.

You returned to the kit, letting the beat drive you, your heart swelling with inspiration. The comfortable banter between you and Billie was a rhythm of its own, a dance of love and playful irritation. As you played, you could feel her gaze on you, a warm presence that added a layer of support.

Suddenly, a beat dropped, and Billie couldn’t resist. She started to sway, a playful grin lighting up her face as she danced around the studio, teasingly mimicking exaggerated drum moves. “Look at me! I’m a drummer now!”

“Wow, I’m impressed,” you said, pausing to clap. “Truly, the world needed another self-proclaimed musician.”

“Careful,” she warned, stepping closer, “or I might just steal your thunder and become the next rock sensation.”

“Right. Billie Eilish: Drummer Extraordinaire. Just what the music industry needs.”

As the playful teasing continued, your focus shifted to the sounds of the outside world. You loved this quiet, suburban life—how it felt like a sanctuary, away from the chaos of fame and the relentless demands of the industry. Here, in your home, you could be yourself, sharing moments that felt genuine and unfiltered.

“Hey,” Billie said softly, breaking the playful tension, “what are you working on tonight? Any new beats?”

You sighed, pulling back slightly. “I’m trying to come up with something for my next project. I want it to feel… I don’t know, different. Like it’s something fresh.”

Billie stepped closer, resting her hands on the edge of the drum kit. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got? I could use a little inspiration myself.”

“Okay, but if you start judging my ‘paradiddles’ again, I’m kicking you out of the studio,” you replied, your tone light.

“Fair enough. Just don’t make me cry,” Billie shot back, a wink in her eyes.

With a mock salute, you returned to the drums, setting a new tempo. As you played, the rhythm enveloped you, and Billie’s presence transformed the atmosphere. You felt invigorated, the beats morphing into a flowing melody that echoed your shared life together.

Billie listened intently, her head nodding in time with the rhythm. “See? This is what I’m talking about,” she said, excitement bubbling in her voice. “You’ve got something special here!”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of her encouragement wash over you. “Thanks, babe. It helps having you here. You always know how to inspire me.”

“I try,” she said, a playful lilt in her voice. “I mean, it’s not easy being this fabulous.”

“Fabulous? You’re practically dripping with sarcasm,” you retorted, laughter bubbling between you.

“Well, darling, if you can’t be fabulous, you might as well be funny.”

“Touché again,” you said, shaking your head with a grin. “You really have a knack for this.”

As the night wore on, you transitioned into a more relaxed vibe, exchanging playful banter and soft kisses in between beats. The drumsticks danced through the air, while Billie hummed melodies that floated through the room, blending with the sound of the drums.

Eventually, you found yourselves nestled on the couch, a comfortable pile of limbs and laughter. The warmth of your shared space wrapped around you like a blanket, and Billie rested her head on your shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

“You know,” she murmured, “this is my favorite part of the day. Just being here with you, creating these moments.”

You glanced down, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I agree. There’s something magical about these nights.”

Billie lifted her head, her blue eyes shimmering with mischief. “But let’s be real, you just love that I’m here to keep you grounded, right?”

“Sure, that’s definitely the reason,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Who wouldn’t want their rockstar girlfriend around to keep their ego in check?”

“Exactly! Just think of me as your personal assistant, but with pretty face.”

You both burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. In those moments, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you—lost in your cocoon of love and creativity.

[aidaronan]

Solitary

For @steddiemicrofic's October prompt "dress" with a target of 350 words, rated m for mature. Tags/warnings: monsters, angst, body horror, immortality He dressed in human skin, each curve and wrinkle of fresh carved out to fit him perfectly, to hide the parts that humans could not look upon without their minds quivering, breaking.

For thousands and thousands of years, he wore that skin. He grew its hair, cut it, shaved it, and grew it again. He tended its wounds and watched the scars fade white and eventually disappear.

He learned its hands. He learned its touch. He learned how to give and take pleasure with it. Pleasure of the flesh, sure. He took that kind of pleasure many, many times, the vessel writhing and him writhing within it. But there were other pleasures too--art, food, music. Oh, he was so glad the vessel had a tongue that could taste chocolate and citrus and sweat and honey. That it had hands that could write or draw, that could strum or strike.

There was one pleasure that evaded him though. As long as he had walked their Earth, he'd wanted it. He'd watched them have it for eons, manifested in passionate glances, in all those ceremonies they'd created to declare it to the world. But he knew he couldn't love or be loved, not with something that would hide in terror the moment he peeled away the layers and showed what hid beneath. Not with something that would grow old and die and decay.

So he kept living near them. He created art, lost it, and watched it pop up in museums centuries later. He made music, got famous, faded out, made new music, got famous again. He watched lovers kiss before his masterpieces. He wrote anthems to longing that they thought they could relate to, but how could they? How could they really?

Until…

He'd never met another. In all his years, he'd come to think he was one of a kind.

But he knew, despite the gorgeous vessel it was so expertly dressed in, he knew.

"I go by Eddie these days," he told it.

"Steve."

A handshake, a quickening heartbeat, and a brand new feeling after so many lifetimes: hope.

[goosewriting]

Hey I loved your baby from the future series, and was wondering if you could do mikey?? no rush tho! I love your writing style btw!

🦆 anon @duckanon

All them bebes! 🥺 (rottmnt Mikey x reader)

summary: several turtle babies suddenly appear in the lair, and they look suspiciously a lot like Mikey

relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader

warnings: none

word count: 2.2k 

A/N: here we go with the grand finale ✨ (welcome duckanon btw!) this one was by far the hardest to write of the four, so i really hope you like it! ♥ i had gotten an ask for mikey’s part for a reader that has been alone almost all their life and accepted that they’d never be a parent even though they really wanted to, so i incorporated that, thanks for the idea!

More “Baby 🥺” versions: Leo | Raph | Donnie | Mikey (you're here)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

On a rainy Saturday afternoon, there wasn‘t a lot to do, so you decided to spend the day at the lair with your favourite turtle. You were in Mikey‘s room, with him lying on his belly on the bed, and you at his desk. Art supplies were scattered all around the place, and you both listened to some lo-fi while very focused on the masterpieces you were crafting.

Suddenly, there was a series of zapping sounds behind you. Confused, and slightly startled, you turned around on the squeaky office chair you were sat in, and saw some yellow flickering lights above the floor, of which a turtle tot came crawling out. Before you could even process what you were seeing, the lights disappeared, and there was a new flash of yellow a couple of feet to the side. With another turtle baby. Your eyes quickly shot up in Mikey’s direction, just to make sure that he was aware of this too and you weren’t just imagining things. To your partial relief, he looked just as shocked as you.

You didn’t even get to push yourself off the chair to stand up, as you were planning to, when the new wave of zapping lights appeared above you, and you looked up in horror. Out of thin air appeared yet another turtle baby, falling into your lap. You caught it with a squeal of surprise, which was reciprocated by a gleeful one coming from the baby.

One last zap, on the bed this time, accompanied by not one but two turtles, and then the flickering lights disappeared entirely, leaving you and Mikey very confused, as you were suddenly surrounded by five little turtle lots, all stumbling as they tried to stand up on short, wobbly legs. They all looked around curiously, the one on your lap looked slightly lost, even. But when you looked at the pair on the bed, you immediately recognised two little faces ready to cause some mischief.

However the two tots skillfully manoeuvred over the bunched up blankets to reach Mikey, cooing at him and climbing into his lap, as he was trying to stand up from the bed. Of the two turtles that had appeared on the floor, one waddled towards you, holding onto your leg and squishing its cheek against your knee once it reached you, while the other swiftly made its way to Mikey, making grabby hands at him and asking to be picked up. 

In your stupor and inability to speak, you intently took in the scene. They all had yellow splotches like Mikey, and were very freckly, the one in your lap having the most. They all had one thing in common though: all five were absolutely adorable. 

Seeing that the turtles on Mikey’s lap were in essence the spitting image of the few baby photos you had seen of your boyfriend, you smiled to yourself.

“If i didn't know any better I'd say they're your kids,” you told Mikey, looking at the little turtle in your lap and smiling widely, to which it cooed and waved at you. “They look just like you!”

“We have to get Donnie here asap,” Mikey said instead, ignoring your comment for the time being, although the faintest of blushes on his cheeks did not go unnoticed by you. He somehow managed to pry himself free of the three little turtles on him, leaving them on the bed instead, three pairs of curious eyes looking after him as he left to get his brother. After he was gone from view, all three heads turned towards you in comical synchrony. 

“So…” you started, picking up the second baby into your lap that had been pulling on your trousers impatiently. “Where are your parents?” 

Wow, look at you, trying to make conversation with a bunch of kids, you thought to yourself. Except that they all pointed at you without hesitation. 

Wait what? 

As you were trying to make sense of this, let’s be honest, pretty ridiculous situation, the pair of turtles that came in together started to get rowdy. If you had to guess you’d have said they’re the only pair of twins out of the five, with how they were always clinging to each other and even the splotches on their arms and faces seemed to be mostly identical. You weren’t sure what they were fighting about, but the pushes started getting stronger and their voices louder as well. You tried to calm them down but they were not listening, and you couldn't exactly get up, as the turtle you had picked up was trying to climb onto your head, pulling at your shirt. 

Before you were able to stop them, one of the twins pushed the other off the bed, and he fell to the floor with a slight clunk. You held your breath for a second, hoping he’d walk it off, but he started crying. With a deep sigh and an “alright” that was directed more towards yourself than the turtles, you got up and brought everyone to the bed, sitting down yourself as well. You picked up the crying turtle, bringing him into your lap, and you gently rubbed his head where he hit the floor. 

“There, there,” you cooed, giving him a little kiss, and that seemed to do the trick as he calmed down immediately. The other turtles protested, trying to climb into your lap as well; they all wanted kisses.

You chuckled at the sight, feeling like a horde of puppies was about to overwhelm you. You gave kisses left and right, trying your best to get everyone an equal amount. Just as the twins had finally calmed down and were about to doze off, tightly holding onto your arm and each other, Mikey appeared again at the door, Donnie behind him. 

The purple-clad turtle took one hard look, stopping in his tracks, taking in the scene before him. Mikey gave him a friendly slap on his shoulder to encourage him to go in there and do the thing.

With a sigh and an unreadable expression, Donnie approached you and started scanning the turtles with a handheld device of sorts. The turtles were silent but curious, following his movements with interest, and so did you. 

Then, Donnie proceeded to scan you, and then Mikey. The device calculated something, and his wrist brace beeped, showing a result in text hovering over his arm, so you were able to read it from where you were sitting.

“Congrats” Donnie first deadpanned, placing a hand on Mikey's shoulder. But then a slightly amused smirk appeared on his face. “You two made me an uncle.”

“What?!” you and Mikey said in unison, shocked, looking at his wrist again. The text read: “99.88% DNA match”.

“I'll be in the lab trying to figure out how to get them back into their timeline,” Donnie remarked, leaving the room as if he didn’t just say that you were surrounded by your turtle kids from the future. 

You were holding the twins in your arms, and another that had gotten behind you was leaning against your back, tiny head pressed between your shoulders; all three were about to fall asleep. The other two turtles were on either side of you, looking up at Mikey and asking to be picked up by him when he approached you. He took one into each arm and took a long look at each with a smile. His gaze shot up to you when he suddenly heard you sniffling.  

“Whoa, you okay?” Mikey asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I'm just... Trying to process this,” you replied, unable to wipe away your tears as your arms and hands were currently cradling the turtles, so the tears freely rolled down your cheeks and fell onto your shirt.

“That we get kids at some point?” Mikey asked, almost sheepishly. You slowly nodded your head, but it turned into shaking, as it wasn’t just that. 

“More like… That I have a family at all,” you admitted. “One of my own.”

One of the turtles in your lap stirred and his little hand reached yours, holding onto your index finger. Now you were trying to hold back sobs so as to not wake them up, but you were unsuccessful. The twins blinked a couple of times, then looked up at you with a slight frown. Even the two in Mikey’s arms looked all worried that you were in distress. 

Suddenly all five turtle babies started humming. At first it was a little desynchronised, but it quickly turned into a lullaby melody, one you hadn't heard in a very long time. This made you cry even harder, and Mikey sat down on the bed, so that all five turtles could hold onto you. 

You smiled through your tears at the whole situation; they were comforting you when really it should be the other way around. Even Mikey’s hand was gently rubbing up and down your back, his brows furrowed together, trying to come up with something to say. He knew you had been alone most of your life, but he loved you so much and wanted to give you the world because you deserved it and more; it hurt him to see you thinking you couldn’t have a family of your own. 

By now the song was over, and the babies just held tightly onto you. Mikey opened his mouth to say something, when a comically loud grumble filled the room for an embarrassingly long time. You laughed, finally able to get one arm free, and brought it up to rub over your face with the back of your sleeve.

“Was that the tots or you, Mikey?” you asked with a chuckle.

“I think that was all of us,” he replied, and five little heads nodded in agreement. “How about some food, then?” They all squealed in glee, starting to climb off the bed and running around. 

To keep them apart, you decided to put stickers on their shells, like Mikey had on his plastron. They all got to choose the one they liked best, and after they were marked, the whole group took off to the kitchen.

Mikey quickly whipped up something safe for the little turtles to eat, and make food for you and himself as well. After you were all full, you went back to Mikey's room and decided to make a nap pile on his bed. 

Unable to sleep, while the rest was happily snoozing, you got up and started gathering some crayons and pencils into a box so the turtles could draw after they woke up. 

Suddenly there was that zap again, and you turned around in shock, hoping that there weren't more little tots to take care of until Donnie figured out something, but you were frozen in place as this swirl of lights was far bigger than the others you had seen. Who, or what would come in through there?!

Your mouth hung slightly agape in disbelief when an older version of none other than Mikey came hopping into your timeline, looking around until his gaze met yours. That's when behind him came another figure, and it was Leo, except that he was way taller (oh he’d love to have a growth spurt like that for sure), and he had a… mechanical arm? Just what was going on?!

This Leo first saw the nap pile and went “aww, look at them” but the older Mikey quickly shushed him. Then he turned to you with a gentle smile, his orange cloak swooshing around his ankles.

“Let's not wake them up,” he explained. “The less Mikey versions everyone sees, the better. Especially the kids.”

“Are you here to… pick them up?” you asked, unsure if you were relieved that the babies would go back to where they belonged, or sad because you wanted to spend some more time with them.

Mikey nodded with a warm smile, and held your hand. Meanwhile Leo started carefully picking up the babies from the bed. In his big arms they suddenly looked so much smaller and frail. You felt a light squeeze to your hand, so you brought your eyes back to Mikey.

“I wish the surprise hadn’t been spoiled but,” he said, leaning in and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s quite the roller-coaster. Look forward to it.”

“I already am,” you admit, holding onto his hand for one more moment, then letting go so they could leave.

Leo gave you a knowing nod with his head and an encouraging smile as he stepped through the portal. Mikey turned around one last time before leaving, shooting you a wink, which you responded by playfully sticking your tongue out at him, as you would usually do. 

The lights flickered for a second, and then they were gone, leaving you standing alone in the dark room. Wiping over your face one last time to dry the remaining tears, you climbed into the bed with a sigh, and it felt much too big and empty now. You scooted closer to Mikey and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, planting a sleepy kiss on your forehead. You sniffled into his plastron, trying your hardest to calm down and not wake him up.

Eventually, Mikey's steady breaths started lulling you to sleep, and as your eyes finally closed, you hoped to dream with five little turtles.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @Hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @xnorthstar3x, @theoriginalmintyyyshake, @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @lieutenantlashfaz, @sleebykei, @spacelesbianfanclub, @snipersiniora, @je-m-appelle-yam, @lunar-lover1, @normal-internet-user, @sleepyomeowers

[chiyoso]

Okay here me out...... If you could fuck Aeons...... Nanook

A WARLORD'S SOLITUDE

nanook, an eldritch, ancient mystery of destruction, had been playing as the puppeteer of death all over the continent since ancient times. a being, involved in the horrors of the world with one simple goal; to destroy and decay life. however, the day he decided to wreak havoc, his eyes wavered at the sight of a familiar figure, you.

ა content warnings. reincarnated lover reader · immortal god au · reader is implied as female · mentions of death and destruction · mature content · he gets hard at the end for you lmao · nanook goes by he/him in this fic · dead dove.

ა author notes. this wasn't smut (sry anon), but i did cook something. wc estimated to be 2k above?? not proofread and edited thoroughly cos this shit was made at 3am.

You couldn't be more mesmerized.

The dread in his face couldn't compare to the ones that witnessed his glorious, aurate form.

He was brilliant, a transcendent being, and he was an Aeon who was filled with mixed emotions of fear, love and confusion.

He looked more terrified than the mortals that ran for their lives beneath his wavering gaze, as the lustrous, golden irises landed upon a creature whose familiarity was certain, and it had shook the Aeon's core deeply.

The divine being was left with intensifying feelings of fear, his chest dripping with golden liquid, leaving out of him just like his shaky breath.

You were there, standing and taking witness to the golden-colored darkness, taking in a situation that will be left recorded in the history books. Your eyes hover and dilate upon a figure that was twice the size of a mountain, the once blue and calm moon that illuminated the world, was now enveloped with a golden hue, assumingly so from the revered Aeon's sudden appearance.

You trembled at the sight of the renounced being that was loathed, feared and looked down upon — but you didn't feel fear, you felt undeniably drawn to its sudden presence in an artistic way, you were always quite an explorer. Your fear of the unknown made your surroundings feel uneasy about you, a beautiful human, that was filled of eccentricness.

In your trembling hands were a coal-tip pen and a thin book with contents of your accumulated sketches, you couldn't hear the deafening screaches of terror as the crowd runs to the opposite of where you were walking towards, it was art or nothing.

It was either to create a masterpiece for future artists to take and witness, or nothing.

Nothing mattered except the heavenly sight that was bestowed upon your eyes in this moment, you were transfixed, in awe, as your irises gloss upon the gold that was within his dark complexion, his long braids that destroyed an ecosystem in mere seconds and beneath him was that of a crater.

You continued to stare at the giant, drunk with inspiration — his golden, translucent, and glowing eyes, filled with a confusion of depair reeling you in deeper as you wondered about that seemed uncharacteristic of an Aeon, but you didn't dwell long on the thought as your hands starting to move on its own, beginning to draw your heart out while your head kept glancing back and forth repeatedly towards the coal-filled page and godlike piece you were drawing, your feet, bringing you to him as you continued to draw, unfortunately, you were finally deemed crazy by the people running for their lives, momentarily eyeing your actions, bringing them a millisecond of confusion, before continuing to sprint from the grasps of death.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! RUN DAMMIT!”

One said looking over to you with a mixture of panic and anger in his expression, his volume of voice minimizing as he ran away from the deathly scene. People continued to run from the hauntingly glorious sight, pushing one another in a panicked flurry, the sounds of their stomping, shaking the earth.

A majority of eyes had forced themselves onto you, physiques mostly dodging your still body in their attempt of preservation for their loves, except when—“F-... Fuck!” A person from your village knocked into you, resulting in your book of sketches, falling down onto the dirt as a wave of feet stomped on it repeatedly.

A turbulent of emotions raged within your heart, the feelings of heartache and despair surfacing physically as your eyes glisten with tears, bringing a hand to your mouth with shock from the thought of years of progress and creation, crumbling to dust with such a simple yet cruel act.

Nanook reacted to the spectacle, the sight of your grimace in your face, snapping him out of his thoughts, his protective instincts kicking in as the tip of his finger reaches out towards your direction, his burning ambers on the sight of the village — or more specifically, the man whom caused you pain.

A striking sharp sound ensued from the heavens, the nightly sky flickering with a golden hue repeatedly, the dark sky was like a canvas as lighting marks decorated the ether. You reacted, raising your head towards the source of the noise, your glistening eyes glimmered at the event, causing your despair to a sudden halt, replaced with excitement and artistic intuition from the ethereal sight before your eyes.

Suddenly, golden rays of light from the heavens came crashing down vertically towards the earth with intense velocity and speed, raining glorious hellfire upon the land surrounding you with a blinding light that forced you to cover your eyes. Even then, you were beyond satisfied with the thought of dying to such a disaster, it was a beautiful chaos.

The art before you made you speechless, and it filled your heart and mind with bliss as you feel the heat surrounding you closing in, the light almost engulfing and grazing your skin.

You were ready, you were happy and satisfied to perish within a beautiful aurora of gold.

You liar.

A deafening silence followed shortly after the intense, crackling sounds of power and despair. Confusion welled up inside you as you were still able to feel the nightly breeze grazing your skin, hugging your form, trembling in the sudden dread of cold air lapped around you.

You open your eyes slowly, reluctantly, revealing a gorey sight, a field of grim and lifeless art surrounding you. The hateful village that you once knew, had fallen apart, a future ruin that is now left as a remnant for future inhabitants of the world, a fragment of a history laid to waste by the Aeon of Destruction, who stayed and proved true to his myth.

“You're not real,” the Aeon, who bathed and dripped in gold, voiced out with a solemn, shaky tone.

The once giant of a man that shook the earth, was now of a size of a human adult male, and he was walking towards you, the gold from his figure and his steps, dripped down on the bloodied floor of lifeless bodies, leaving a trail of golden liquid before stopping just respectfully before you.

How could you possibly react to the situation at hand? Such a destructive, force of nature, shakily uttering your name with undertone of despair, the sight of his beautiful, ornate eyes dilating, studying you, memorizing you.

Myths that you had a hard time believing from your continuous torment from others, praying and hoping to be enlightened and saved— now being preyed upon with such power under his watchful gaze.

“H-How did you-” You voice cracked, heavy confusion accompanied with slight fear were apparent in your whole being.

How did he know your name? Why were you alive? Why was he looking at you this way? Why did I only get spared?

You continued to overthink, your mind racing with thoughts.

The great Nanook, who painted your only home in red and ashes.

The great Nanook, who inflicted countless of deaths, disasters and terror since the beginning of time. He was the true form of destruction and despair himself.

Yet, that gaze... It wasn't befitting of a God.

Nanook looked at you with such an almost unrecognizable look, unfathomable emotions in his eyes, wavering at the sight of you, his beautifully constructed face faltered into the depths of similar to a heartache, weeping in gold within his eyes while the memories from his over lived lifetime continue to hit him like a celestial disaster that would engulf the whole world, his whole world... being you.

The you who was so familiar to him, the you that would bring back countless memories about love wnd happiness, the you who left within his arms in your previous life eons ago, the light in your eyes leaving, dreading him from ever loving again. Reincarnation was a mystery even to destruction himself, some would reincarnate after death, some would take millennium, eons, or a lifetime.

And yet, there you were, a fragment of himself, and he felt whole again, witnessing such a miracle, seeing you again, so close yet so far to him.

“Aeon,” you called out to him in a hushed voice, your face filled with confusion and fear replaced with concern and worry because your gaze landed upon the golden liquid, cascading down from his saddened eyes.

Nanook, flinched to your voice, the sound reverberating within his ears, causing his heart to flutter to your dearly missed chords.

It was different, but it was yours.

He'd only stiffen up, dilating irises staring longingly into yours, having intense, overwhelming feelings of confusion, aching, a deep longing for none other than you.

You weren't the her that he knew, but you were still the soul that he ached for and cherished. He brought a hand to his head, exhaling short, heavy breaths instead of audibly sobbing despite the golden tears that stained his cheeks.

The Aeon was both smitten and terrified at the sight of you, his eyes glossing over every feature that existed before his eyes, cherishing every millisecond with you. He took several deep breaths, composing himself before taking another step forward to you.

“D- Don't come any closer-...” You said in a panic, taking a step back simultaneously as fear began to creep back within you again.

“Please...” You continued, your voice starting to tremble, you had expected him to not listen, since, he was after all—a being of decay and havoc, but instead, you witness him flinch to your words, his heart shattering from your desire to make him stay disganced, retracting his reaching hand from you and standing in place as he stares at you with a visible faint frown.

“Do you... Do you know me?” You asked, steadying your quickened breath as you steel your gaze towards him, looking for answers, keenly observing his body language and facial features with the accumulated skill you had as an artist.

Nanook was silent for a few long moments, taking deep shaky breaths, he was starting to calm as well, finding solace in your voice, savoring it this time more intensely, not wanting to part from the existence of you again.

“It... It matters not flowe-”

“It does, and you know it.”

You cut him off without missing a beat, your courage returning, confident that he won't be able to hurt you—having that identified from the way he was acting.

The firmness of your tone accompanied with your unwavering gaze, caused him to look away to the side, his cheeks beginning to heat.

It was all so closely familiar to him, the way your voice rang with a firm, fearless tone, the way you would hold your ground in every situation even if risked your precious life, the way he knew of your unquenchable curiousity and wonder, the way your plump lips frowned to him, as fragments of memories continue to overwhelm him, flickering in his mind.

“Aeon Nanook,” you called out to him again but with alias name, echoes of his name replaced the silence with no response from him.

He couldn't respond.

Instinctively, you began to pace forward to him as your curiousity began to grow—remembering the spectacle before this situation, on how the air filled with an aurora of gold, the air, filled with shimmering particles of the same color that was flowing all over his body, his well carved, toned and physique that you couldn't help but glance to it every now and then, your womanly and artistic senses battling each other in your internal struggle

And the nickname for you? Flower? Why does he act in such a manner? What does he—

“You are aware of my prominence and alias, yet you continue to call me by my title,” he'd intercept your thoughts, trying to sound like his normal, glorious self, but the sight of you accompanied by your voice was too much for his fluttering heart, the beads of his sweat trickled along his neck, the darkened hue all over his cheeks that had spread to his ears the moment you stepped several paces closer towards the higher being—and that confused, but intrigued you even more.

The latter was winning.

“Then,” you said, before stopping before him, a safe yet risky distance as the gap between was far more lesser.

“Your eminence, Nanook of Destruction...” he stiffened as you call out to him, simultaneously placing a hand to your chest, your gaze locked and piercing as your fear completely diminishes from your body, replaced with overwhelming curiousity, and determination.

“Forgive me for my insolence, but if I were to die, I'd rather be informed,”

He could never hurt you.

“You have spared me, even upon laying waste on the land I once called my home, your brilliant attacks managing to—not once, move towards my way,” you've arrived just infront of him, a genuine frustration apparent in your expression.

“Why.”

The toughness of the situation may have affected your senses right now, but you could have sworn you heard him curse under his breath seeing his mouth part slightly, his bangs covering his face as he tilted his flushed face down, but you didn't dwell on it further as you were brimming with a desire for questions.

The blush remained on his face, his eyes narrowing to you, causing you to retract back a few steps away, the reality returning to you that you were current demanding a being far from the mortal grasp, your grasp.

You didn't know, but his head spun from the flood of emotions and memories of the past, and your actions tipped him over the edge, causing him to get drunk with overwhelming love, affection and lust for you, the golden liquid all over him starting to boil, looking towards the earth beneath the both of you.

He was reduced to a weak man as of right now.

“I...” He cleared his throat, his gaze returning to yours as his body language tells you all kinds of information, and dammit, everything was an itch to your brain as to how illogical the situation was.

“Flower...” There it is again.

“You wouldn't believe m-”

“I speak with an individual who is considered to be a myth at the moment, try me,” you interrupted again, showing the firmness of your question and decision, and he was so absolutely smitten by you once more, falling in love all over with you again, a personality that he missed so much, causing his heart to blare, interrupting his internal thoughts, thoughts of how to answer you.

You then take a step forward once more, your eyes never leaving his, and if you walked two more paces, towards him, you would've been within his personal space, not that he would mind.

“A supreme being, speaking to me as if I were someone dear to you, sparing me from the demise of your powerful feats. A manifested concept of destruction, gazing—carrying this heavy tone similarly to a man who's utterly lovesick towards a maiden he admires from afar.”

You weren't far from the truth.

You then narrow your eyes to him, closing the distance once more with one more step, looking up to the towering sunlight of a man before you.

“Forgive me talking in such a way that would invoke discomfort towards you, but I want to address the illogical problem—you continuing to call me a name like I am a person so familiar and so close to you.” At this point, he couldn't hide the flush in his face anymore from the almost closeness between you two.

You're just so...

Nanook continued to gaze downwars to you, listening to every word you're saying intently, your strong will, courage and curiousity that he was all too familiar with, finding you absolutely adorable and alluring—but he won't admit that, at least not for now.

“Reincarnation, my flower. It is because you are, familiar,” he took a deep breath, lowering his gaze.

“So very familiar and known to me...” his voice trails, you noticing the trembling of his lips.

You were so, so close.

He bathed in your familiar scent that was addicted to before, and taking a whiff of it after so long, he seemed drugged, dazed wnd intoxicated.

His eyes starting to haze as well as his mind, savoring the closeness of the two of you. His dazed, loving gaze continued to study and savor you like a revered, famous artwork, amused by the visible disbelief and contempt on your expression that he caused.

You felt out of touch from the emotions you were experiencing, every emotion you were feeling were so foreign to you, and it was a scary yet thrilling experience.

You didn't want to melt to the nickname he kept calling you, you didn't want to react to his sweet, rich voice, talking to you like you were the best thing in his whole, supreme existence, but your body betrayed you, showing the faintest hint of a blush, starting to show.

You didn't process the information he uttered out to you, you couldn't, and you didn't want to, even if you knew it wasn't a lie, since it came from an Aeon especially.

The fact that you knew the meaning behind his body language, the way you tried being oblivious to his facial expressions, his flushed out face, and the way his gaze would make you feel so special and wanted.

You didn't want to come to a correct conclusion, you didn't want logic to... logic. Perhaps some other Aeon of Life and Death were playing a sick game towards the both of you.

The astronomical luck of this Aeon, as well as yours, meeting you in this era, this lifetime, was most, most absurb.

You couldn't fanthom it, and the thought of being intimate with such a destructive force of a being like him, doing all of those things together.

Fuck, you then quickly turn around from him, feeling your cheeks grow hot, resulting in Nanook to jolt, your actions bringing him back to reality as your back was now faced towards him.

He has killed and ceased many souls, he has caused endless death and destruction for eons and eons of his existence, his sole purpose was and is to take and destroy, being a puppeteer to his Emanators and subjects who did his deeds for him. He was a feared and revered being, he is a glorious, beautiful being whom destroyed your village, he would most likely continue to lay destruction if it hadn't been for you, and—

Your mind contined to wander about, your cheeks continuing to feel hot as the red tint finally revealed itself, spreading to your ears.

“Flower—?”

“Why... Why do you continue to call me that—!”

You hissed, your voice came out high pitched, reducing the aggressive tone you originally wanted, but you couldn't help it, you were feeling yourself fluster further for the wrong reasons.

“I- I don't know you... I can't perceive you in such ways,” you say meekly, lowering the volume of your voice.

Hm?—“What ways, do you speak about flower?”

The Aeon mused, walking to your side, tilting his body down and taking a glimpse of what was happening, the moment he saw your mirrored blush, he felt more alive than he already is as his lips curl into a faint smirk, placing his hand onto the top of your head, rubbing your head gently and affectionately, and since he knew you through and through, he most definitely knew you were in denial about the facts that even you yourself didn't want to accept, because you were such a smart woman, such a lovely, lovely intelligent woman whom he cherished dearly.

He would've included you within his golden auroras of death if he wanted to harm you. He would've already killed you even after you somehow escape from the attack if he wanted to. He wouldn't be patting your head so lovingly if he wanted to cause you pain. Why would you let him touch your hair even? Why did you want to get closer to him? Why would he—

“Love,” He muttered to you, not realizing his mouth was near your ear, causing shivers down your spine as a soft yelp escapes your mouth in shock from the new cute name along with his actions.

“Shall I continue to inform you? I assume your... thoughts are currently running with a vast amount of things, correct me if I'm wrong,”

His usage of coyness only continued, having your confidence wavered—intentions of breaking that wall of strength, just like him when you managed to tame him.

“You can resist me,” the hand from the top of your head currently wasnow tracing down along your nape, his thumb brushing along your skin, the warming of your skin being felt as your cheeks burn further.

He certainly knew how to make you feel, he'd know how to rile you up, whether it'd be wholesomely, or sinfully, he knew you through and through, at least—the soul harboring the current body of yours that is, and all that could be achieved by none other than him, and him only.

“Nanook...” You call to him, soft and vulnerable, turning your head towards him, revealing your uncontrolled reddened face, your expression trying to not show any signs of weakness to him.

His gaze softened further, the sight of you causing him to chuckle as his deep, rich laughter felt so pleasing to your ears, not helping you in your situation.

“Even-... Even if I was reincarnated as you said, I-I don't know you,” he moved closer, needing to hear you, wanting to hear you.

“At- At least not like in the life that you and I were...” You attempt to look away, your face sunken, dusted with a deep, visible blush, showing such a side that spiked Nanook's heart rate, along with yours

Neither of you were dumb, nor ignorant.

Both of you were intelligent enough to know that there was a lingering air of attraction and warmth surrounding the two of you, despite the you in this lifetime not knowing absolutely anything about him, be it his personality, the intimacy you two shared, and what you cherished most, emotional vulnerability.

The thought of being lovers, being so heavily intimate with such an attractive, powerful being left you pondering deeplyyou, making you wonder about all kinds of things as your cheeks remained heavily flushed.

You then flinch, the feeling of his hand formerly on your nape, now moving down towards your lower back, wrapping his hand to your curves, gently and sensually caressing it.

“You're right,” His other hand then reaches up to your chin, making you face him as his face grows near to yours.

“And yet... you aren't resisting my advances as of this moment, why is that?” He hummed, his smirk remaining on his face, knowing he caused your head to spin and fluster you into the depths of warmth and affection, but he was also absolutely experiencing euphoria along with you, experiencing so much happiness and warmth from your familiar presence that had always had such a strong effect on him.

He was acting coy and smug, masking that unconditional, unwavering deep love and affection that he had for you, previously buried until forgotten, except his all of his weaknesses began to starting to resurface, having trouble discerning if it was good or bad, but—the only thing that felt good, was him basking in delight from your presence again.

He was right though, why weren't you rejecting his touches? His forward advances? The way your cheeks would flush deeper he speaks in such a loving tone that caused your heart rate to spike its pace, the way he would brush his thumb across your chin as he held it, gazing lovingly upon your face with a warm smile that you almost melted to.

He most definitely saw you before this whole situation erupted, he saw your familiar eccentricity, he saw the way your eyes gleamed whilet you passionately drew your heart away to the sight of him, he saw the familiar wonder and the way your eyes would shimmer, seeing him in the reflection in your eyes amongst the chaos he previously cause, and... since you assume he knew you through and through.

Does that mean he accepts you?

“Does this mean you accept me?”

You thought aloud, your lips parting to say your uncontrollable thoughts as your eyes continue to gloss over his face, emotions welling up within you.

He accepted you before then? He accepted the way you are? He accepted the parts where you yourself loathed along with the people who casted looks of disdain and unease to you? He accepted the you that was true and weird? All your flaws, and he loves m—?

“And love you, yes.” His words interrupting your thoughts simultaneously, gently pulling your face closer to his with his fingers, his warm breath grazing upon your trembling lips as he smiled so warmly and affectionately towarss you.

“You may not know me in this life, you may not know who I am from within, but believe me when I say this,” He then leaned forward, tilting down his body to match your height, thus presses his lips against your forehead, his soft and warm lips lingering for a few long moments before reluctantly pulling back.

“I have made a promise to you since then, that if I had ever encounter your lovely soul once more and that I have—even in another lifetime, the next one after that, and until my existence is eradicated from existence, until then, I would make you mine. Over and over and over,”

“Do you understand me, love?”

“That... and is there a problem with getting to know me again?” He added, coyly, affection imminent, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, staring at it with an intense loving gaze, biting his own as love filled lustful thoughts seeped into his mind, reminiscing the memories of intimacy.

Ah, his cock underneath pulsed, twitching slightly under his white drapes from the reaction of your lips. Your quivering, plump lips were already moist just by his touch, as a soft whimper escaped your mouth from the heavily intimate gesture he was demonstrating to you.

Your took a sharp, shaky inhale from his loving, impactful words. You didn't know this man, you didn't had anyone look at you, care for you, love you, cherish you, look at you in such a way that everything started to feel blocked out. It was only you and him that existed in the both of your spaces.

The both of your hands travel to his wrist, moving his hand towards your cheek, closing your eyes as you savor and melt into his palm, his thumb continuing to rub against your moist lips.

“You're beautiful, you are.” His pupils turned into hearts just looking at your own gesture, accepting his advances and the intimacy between the two of you.

“You really, really are,” bathed in affection and warmth, an unspoken agreement of a certain love and lust filled and surrounded the two of you.

A vast majority wished to experience the intensifying love these two had, despite their heavy, heavy differences. A mortal, and an Aeon, the Aeon of Destruction in specific. It was a bizzare sight again.

The ground shook, a rumbling was heard in the distance, your moment of loving was cut short, interrupted, as sounds of yelling in the distance catches both of your attention, turning both of your heads to the source of the noise with annoyance and confusion, only to realize the people whom worshipped under other Aeons, a faction whom dedicated themselves to destroy anything and everything about the path of destruction, arrived with an overwhelming multitude of armies, shaking the soil both of you stood on as the skies above them also had soaring fleets, moving towards you and the Aeon.

Nanook's eyes narrowed in annoyance, clicking his tongue to the sight, extending his hands towards the direction of the interruption in an instinct as the golden liquid slithered from his chest to his hands in veiny, lighting marks that appeared all over his extended arm, the tip of his finger radiating a sudden black orb of what seems to be a black hole, the orb surrounded with his signature golden liquid, accompanied with a golden mist and—“Nanook!” You grabbed and placed yourself upon his arm, lowering it as you look to him wincing from the uncomfortable sensation of the golden marks touching against your skin, you shook your head frantically, before speaking to him.

“Don't, please.” He took a fleeting moment, processing your words and pondering deeply to himself. A defeated sigh escapes mouth from the pleading tone and glistening eyes of yours, his gaze softening shortly after as his other free hand grabbed you by the waist, holding you tightly against him, before pointing the summoned black orb of space to the nightly atmosphere, sending the orb soaring up to the stars, his gaze lowering to the armies and fleets that were moving quickly towards the both of you.

“And flower, I'll also get you a new book to draw on as an apology to destroying your home.” He smirked, teasing you as he snapped his fingers, the orb dissipated, a few seconds of silence ensued, before a massive, beautiful explosion shaped of a widened northern star followed suit, causing panic and bafflement to the incoming starskiffs and cloud soldiers from all continents within the Xianzhou.

The ethereal explosion that was just performed, dissipated slowly, but the golden, dust particles of exploding northernstar began to engulf the both of you, covering all of your form, shortly after a bright light emitting towards the both your bodies, before a sudden familiar moonlit darkness returns to the world again, making a hasty, easy escape into the darkness as a golden shower of dust particles illuminated the night sky, leaving unsatisfied feelings of anger, regret and pain towards the army that arrived.

Let his destructive calling be damned, he wasn't going to let you go, not until you two meet in another lifetime again.

the amount of editing i did cause this shit was so old... i mean uhhh—reblogs help my audience reach, thank you.

[deromanuscoven]

🕸๋࣭ ⭑‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚Hello everyone and welcome to the De Romanus Coven 2024 Halloween event Preview! ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚๋࣭ ⭑🕸

This year our prompts are inspired by the seventh art, by horror cinema, as our beloved Marius, the character to whom our coven is most dedicated, had a brief career as a filmmaker.The prompts are not only titles of more or less famous films in the horror genre, but have been chosen from sub-genres of horror culture contained within the Vampire Chronicles. We have tried to cite all the genres contained in the books themselves, with the last day of the event, dedicated to Anne Rice, citing the first novel in the Vampire Chronicles, and also the 1994 masterpiece film that resulted from it.We would like to make it clear that you do not need to know the films cited, they are just themes you can draw inspiration from. If you know the film to which the prompt is dedicated, you can be inspired by it, for the creation of any artistic content, or let yourself be carried away by the theme that the title holds. We have tried to quote the films as internationally as possible, for horror, the unknown and fear, belong to any culture, just as Anne Rice's books have been translated into so many languages and have become international. The event is dedicated to all the characters of the Vampire Chronicles and the more terrifying side of the saga, which remains a pillar in the Gothic horror genre that revolutionized the figure of the vampire.

You can submit any kind of work:

-fanart -moodboard -fanfiction -meta

-analysis -poems etc. What we ask, and has always been our one true inviolable rule, that love be brought and given to Anne Rice's work and her characters. And another thing, we value words and their use. Our coven wants to bring fun and love to the fandom, so we ask that you choose carefully and thoughtfully the words you include in your work.On pain of exclusion from the event.

⛥Thank you all and see you soon!⛥

-Below you will find all the prompts from the Halloween event:

[im-just-a-bug]

Finished In Stars and Time last night and want to put down my thoughts bc that was nuts. Spoilers ahead v

Theres still much I havent seen, and ive only gotten one ending but man this game blew me away. Here are some things i loved about this game.

Timeloops are such a common plot device, a way to help the mc level up for the big bad, and the way they flipped that narrative on its head! The instant shift from "this is a gift to help me!" To "who did I think I was, how stupid," is so satisfying.

The music, at the end, terrified me. That first time Headmaiden broke down, and the music glitched and deteriorated, i realized oh. Oh fuck this is a kind of horror game isn't it. I wasnt wrong.

The changes in character art!!

The subtle things; the mirror never catches you by surprise again. Your battle sprite looks bored. You stop making silly noises at the birds.

That moment in act 3 where everything is finally going right, your companions love you and youve never felt more content, and Siffrin wins and gets to the end and they loop anyway. The way that the first time his party notices anything wrong is when he is completley and utterly heartbroken, the way they run to him. And he wakes up in the meadow, to allies that don't love him anymore. Who have no idea what hes going through. Who aren't grateful. And love didnt win the game so they go searching for answers and it makes sense but it makes everything worse.

You talk to King, and for a second you think everything might work out because stranger things have happened. And after a whole game of Bonnie being safe, Bonnie running away. Bonnie never being in any real danger. King picks them up and crushes them in front of you to 'teach you a lesson.' And the terror on Sifs face the next loop they reach the King startled me deeply, and reminded me that this game is a god damn masterpiece.

The way this game sets you up to stop caring about how you treat others, only to give you a real ending after what was essentially the WORST loop youve ever had?? Incredible. Siffrin doing everything he can to manipulate his way to the end, even if everyone hates him bc hes just so desperate. There's no point being nice, there's no point pretending in the end, bc he hopes there won't be another loop but in their heart they Know there will be, so what's the point? And he fumbles every interaction, makes every one of his friends hate his guts, and then has to fight the King alone. And then they save him anyway. They follow him and pick him up at the end (which cinematically is a God damn masterpiece all on its own God DAMN) and you figure out the whole time Siffrin was looping not bc the country fumbled a Wish, but because he didn't want his friends to go. He wanted to stay with them so badly he wished for it on accident, and the universe listened.

I haven't even gotten into how in awe I was, putting together the little puzzle pieces of Sifs backstory, of his island. Even in act 1 I was squinting my eyes. Several mentions of a whole island wiped from existence no one can remember? A protagonist with severe memory issues and no connection to or knowledge of any culture left? God I love this game.

And Loop. I didnt learn Loops story on my playthrough, but i looked into it and man. Its so incredibly neat that you have this character, this other siffrin, who went through these loops so many times they got desperate enough to make a whole NEW wish, unspecified and uncaring, just wanting something to change. Wanting help. And got shoved into our Siffrins reality instead, because wishes never work how you want them to. Finding their star room and their journal and trinkets and lore was so incredibly cool!! Though im confused why the journal says they made a cooy of themself, but their battle dialogue says they got shoved into a different reality. Idk, but it's still cool. And their anger, that someone else got their happy ending? Fucking mwah.

These characters are so complex and interesting and a day later im still in awe about it. There are so many parts of this game i havent even mentioned here that are like a punch in the face. So many little interactions, so many art shifts.

I loved this game deeply, and the only thing stopping me from playing more is guilt at taking away that ending. When a game makes u care about the characters that much, you know its a great game.

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/23/2024: POSSESSOR

It has come to my attention that I would like to do a very big project on Brandon Cronenberg. I need him to get his new projects out so I can have some more data points. In no time at all he has developed a really distinctive voice, as they say, and it's not just the body horror thing; he is asking these really probing questions about identity in a way that I think is unique and requires study. More input please.

Recently I got myself locked in this intense study of his debut feature ANTIVIRAL, which may not seem immediately similar to POSSESSOR and INFINITY POOL, but I think it starts a compelling conversation about make makes you "you". Like, to what degree is your body "you"? What percentage of your body can be considered "you", or are "you" only whatever is attached to your living brain? Which then activates questions about brain health, and deceased remains. The answer to what constitutes "you" may differ depending on who is being asked, too; what is their legal relation to you, or their sentimental relationship--or what is their attitude toward bodies and biomatter in general.

As I got deeper into this project, I contracted covid at the film festival I'd been working. I began to have an experience that was somewhat similar to what Brandon Cronenberg said inspired ANTIVIRAL: He was extremely sick with a virus, and he couldn't stop imagining how particles from someone else's body had penetrated his body, and he was being co-mingled with someone else. I started to connect with that, that I had just been at this conclave of the cultists of cinema and at the same time that our brains were syncing up, these particles were threading through our bodies, connecting us. This thought kept running in the background while I was watching ANTIVIRAL end to end to end, and being part of its deluge of blood and mucus and philosophizing about viruses and whether they represent an intimate interpersonal communion, whether your cells are imprinted with the existential, quasi-spiritual thing of your personal identity. And as my husband and I were housebound and chewing our way through all the groceries we had, we discovered that our entire dozen eggs had two yolks each. And it was like something that was coming out of my television in 3D, the proliferating cells of ANTIVIRAL, the clones of INFINITY POOL, the bifurcated people of POSSESSOR who have a body and a soul that are not necessarily monogamous with one another, people who experience bilocation. I got Brandon Cronenbergitis.

POSSESSOR is really a masterpiece, theories and philosophies aside. Gorgeous and engrossing, violent in a way that exposes the essential repulsiveness of violence, and with an inventiveness that returns to us the largely-lost experience of wondering, "How the fuck did they do that?" Living art object Andrea Riseborough plays Vos, an assassin whose modus operandus is to take over the body of someone close to her mark and use them to commit murder-suicide, thus hiding the real commissioner of the crime. Though Vos's usual approach is to make it appear that the possessed individual is having a psychotic break, she is approaching her own mental collapse, as evidenced by the increasing sadism of the executions. Her latest assignment is Colin Tate (Christopher Abbott), future son-in-law of sociopathic CEO John Parse. Once inside and acting out the perfunctory nervous breakdown, Vos begins to lose control, and she is soon locked in a battle of wills with the understandably freaked out Colin.

Colin is an alternative version of INFINITY POOL'S protagonist James (Alexander Skarsgard), a failed novelist acquired by a rich heiress as a means of annoying her monstrous father. Both men are perfect submissives in some sense: They are owned by someone else, and their very identities are ultimately determined by someone else. James, who has a surplus of traditional male ego problems, is easily manipulated by a clique of rich psychopaths who make a game of destroying his sense of self--a process that is escalated by the existence of clones, vat-grown scapegoats for the crimes of the wealthy. The presentation of multiple, disposable Jameses, whose explicit purpose is to be degraded and annihilated, does something extra to the original James's sense of integrity, his brand as it were. When POSSESSOR'S Vos joins Colin in his body, it exacerbates the instability that already characterizes Colin's life; he is a sexual plaything for his fiancee's friends, he is a wage slave at her father's Amazon-like corporation, not even warranting a nepotistic promotion, and when he isn't working he's tuning out on hard drugs. His own poorly-established sense of integrity creates a sort of trap for Vos, who has been losing touch with her own personality as she sinks deeper into the bloody mire of her job.

Cronenberg said POSSESSOR came to him when he was promoting ANTIVIRAL, having to put on a kind of press persona to sell and explain his debut film to the public; he would wake up in the night feeling like he was living someone else's life, like he had lost contact with his core identity. It makes sense that he was beginning to develop INFINITY POOL around the same time, but I would argue that the much-earlier ANTIVIRAL deals with some of the same themes. Syd March (Caleb Landry) doesn't occupy the same rich failson archetype, but he lives in a world where the location of identity is up for debate; it isn't limited to the brain, or the face or whole body, but it has spread out to include the microbial components of disease, which are the new celebrity memorabilia. The belief that the persona is in these cells, and that taking the cells into oneself constitutes a form of intimacy or even unity, suggests the same attitude toward the mutability of the self. Around the time of INFINITY POOL, Cronenberg made a statement that contains a hint of dialog from ANTIVIRAL, and that I think unlocks all three movies:

“The brain creates a feeling of self. It's almost a controlled hallucination. We are each this chorus of ideas and influences. I think much of that comes externally, through ideas we’re infected with through our context, and much of it comes internally through our own biology. … It’s a process of the brain to essentially claim certain aspects of your experience. … But once you start to pick apart what it is to have a self, it’s this entirely neurological sensation rather than something that exists in a tangible, concrete way.”

It seems that Cronenberg will be working on the identity question for a long time. And as long as he is, so will I.

[skunkes]

ok ok i have another way to word my thots about the movies thus far:

i think Art is pretty iconic design wise. Im not against gory slashers I think we should have more of those and I like that a series so "shocking" is doing so well...its more like.

The franchise establishes pretty immediately that it's not Serious...as mentioned the first movie has a naked woman sawed in half from crotch down so idk how you'd even make it to the 3rd one without knowing How It Is. But with how the first one barely has any plot, and the second one has A Bit More but drags on and on...its like... SO FAR (because I haven't seen the 3rd one) these movies aren't Fun to watch ykwim.

I know Saw isn't a good comparison bc its a different genre within horror but the franchise really is like a telenovela... its so stupid (good) and it has lots to complain about and pick at in the FUN way, like poking fun at peepaw and his warehouses and home depot purchases, going "are you kidding me thats so dumb" at that scene where hoffman manages to be snuck into the station in a body bag to start killing people. Varuous moments of stupid ass dialogue writing. Im not saying it cant be boring or unliked but i think it has a good balance of everything (eyerolling moments, plot, "lighthearted" and humorous moments, intentional or not) even if its not a masterpiece in the writing department.

And that's just within the series, I usually avoid bringing up fandom bc that's obviously a different beast I rarely even touch but its more about how its fandom actually has that foundation to go off of. Like you know enough about peepaw's backstory and such to springboard off of, regardless of it being good or not

Here it's like man there's a hot cool clown, lots of gore, really corny and cornily acted out writing, and its not even FUN? 😭 2 movies (again I haven't made it to the 3rd) and I wouldn't watch them again, not because of the gore but because despite not being serious, reinforced by that very drawn out over the top kill in the second one, it's not even fun... you cant even attach to the silly dialogue because the whole rest of the movie is a drag. Does this make sense? It's like. Everything combined to make it Not Fun. Whereas at least with Saw you can start joking about how someone just wasn't trying hard enough to win peepaw's foundationally silly ass "you tried to kill yourself now you're in the try not to kill yourself" trap.

It's at odds with itself. I've seen like one Halloween movie and can barely even remember it but I know all the jokes about outrunning Michael Myers (and that cat and mouse is also Fun)...theres also like 50 of those movies I KNOW theyre probably also fun to watch and complain about the absurdity... I think the issue here might also be the straightforwardness and point A point B of it all. There's not really much anyone can do against Art, which is fine, some saw traps are literally unwinnable after all. But Terrifier doesn't even give you the chance to, like, boast about how you definitely could have survived the Silence Circle trap because you're not an idiot... it's just not Fun. To me.

I think Art himself is fun and the corny dialogue are fun. I'll even go ahead and say the gore is fun because again like come on the clown literally rips a guys cock off its Absurd... but they seem to be trapped in movie(s) that so far aren't fun

[plethoraworldatlas]

New Smiling Critters fansong Recommendation!

From the genius writer of another tragically underrated song "Not Smiling Inside" KryFuZe, comes another masterpiece, "Falling Apart".

Quick "like this, try that recommendation" version, if you loved CG5's sleep well or the also tragically underrated Euphoric Dreams Brasma, or if you're a Bendy fan and cried listening to Tender Memory by DHeusta, this emotional song will hit just as hard and stay with you in more ways than one.

First off, the emotional tone and feel; If you heard my synopsis for Euphoric Dreams, you know I described it as a worship poem written by CatNap himself. KryFuZe's Not Smiling Inside is similar in that regard, feeling like CatNap's hymn. "Falling Apart" also captures the worship, yet instead it goes in a direction I've never seen before in the Fandom despite how obvious it seems in retrospect; Falling Apart is a child's hand drawn, crayon prayer book written by the mini critters.

The song is the story of the mini critters, and right from the first lines it tells you it what it is; "Beautiful Melody/ Terrible Tragedy/ We are still alive". Beautiful, terrible, and living despite everything. Without lingering on the gory details, the song captures the heartbreaking pain of the orphan children who were twisted and turned into the mini critters. At nearly the exact same time, though, it captures their resilience and zealous faith in the cult of the Prototype and especially their Prophet CatNap; In how despite their horrid fate they have come to thrive by refusing the rule of the scientists who tortured them.

Not only does it allude to the terrible experiments, nor the horror of the Hour of Joy, but both those AND the terrible degraded state the mini critters and the factory as a whole have come to after the Hour of Joy. Many fansongs focus on the experiments or the Hour of Joy, few do both; Here, Falling Apart makes itself even more revolutionary by hitting on all three of these tragedies and terrors.

Despite the dark subjects, it is still a emotional song about the mini critters misplaced faith and resilience. The minis address the player, the Angel, and the scientists as one; "You are why we suffer, why we hurt, you come to kill us, but things have changed, we have won your cruel games and now you will suffer".

Pivoting for a moment, but I can't go another second without mentioning the breathtaking video. While good songs stand on their own and do not need visuals, and Falling Apart is no exception, Falling Apart is one of those Great Songs that is only enhanced by its gorgeous music video. From the Red lighting mixing perfectly with the smoke machine, to the perfect use of props and camera angles, every part of the video is breathtaking.

Yet no detail moreso than the in video subtitles, done in heartbreaking crayon contributing to the wistful tone of innocent children suffering. The metaphor I used of a child's crayon drawn first prayer book fits perfectly. Even as the messaging is threatening towards their tormentors, the innocence of the crayon art and words mixes so tragically beautifully with their praises of CatNap and the Prototype. If you told me it was canon that one of the children used in the experiments that created the minis wrote a little prayer book to worship the Prototype in crayon and told me that was what the song was about, not only would I believe you I would say it fits perfectly into the established world and builds upon it.

I can gush for hours, but I don't want to spoil anymore for you. So please, please, PLEASE! Go watch this criminally underrated masterpiece, whether you are a Poppy Playtime or Smiling Critters fan or not, whether you like fansongs or mascot horror or not. Trust me, you'll feel the soul put into this work of art

[jeeyuns]

Can we have some links for these mcd fics ? 👀

sure! let me rip my heart open again. hell yeah brothah here we go. lemme stick with 911 and keep it down to top 4. i DEFINITELY forgot some! but these are the ones where the atmosphere and specific lines stick out to me and stick out OF me if you know what i mean.

24 by @kitkatpancakestack

Buck left his muddy sneakers at Eddie’s house. Eddie is sitting on the back of an ambulance watching a gurney roll away, watching vaguely familiar faces trying to keep it together for him, watching his hands shake.  A voice somewhere says, “He’s in shock.” Another bites back, “Wouldn’t you be?” And none of it matters, because Buck left his muddy sneakers at Eddie’s house. * The first twenty-four hours are the hardest.

when i tell you i imprinted on the feeling i got from reading this MASTERPIECE. i haven't looked BACK baby. k knows what she's DOING. this is like one of the first 3 fics i EVER read for the 911 fandom. before this, i was a casual viewer of the show. i was the general audience going haha sexy firefighters i should keep watching a la february 2021 can you believe?????????

and the way she poured into me this feeling of grief, hour by hour on the countdown. made me GET it you know? my brain just rescrambled again i need to go attempt to reread it and oscillate in my office chair. yeah i WILL cry at work. one good cry a day keeps the horrors at bay or something like that. i'm also pissed because i left a comment from my old ao3 account i can't get back in to. kitkat i love you. mwah!

-

3 more below the cut! 🫶

All The Work That Needs To Be Done by @try-set-me-on-fire

Buck nods, two slow movements like any action at all pains him. Eddie isn’t sure how literal or metaphorical that statement is, and wants to tell him again to let a doctor look at him, but they’ve had that argument several times already tonight and Buck had a look in his eyes like- like Eddie doesn’t even know what, but whatever would have happened if he’d kept pushing would not have been good, so he’d let it drop and stuck close to his side. "She shouldn't be alone." — Bobby dies. Eddie worries. Life goes on.

the insane (g00d) whiplash i got when i went from oouuing and ahhhing over brick's gorgeous art to the jaw-drop of OMG SHE WRITES TOO. and then i clicked on this bad boy. and was promptly sniped in the heart. the GUTPUNCH and depth of feeling along with the steady beat of quiet heartbreak. oh what i would do to turn back time to the second after i clicked

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i would've loved you (instead i lost you) by @honestlydarkprincess

Eddie cleared his throat, swallowing the tears that threatened to break free and forced himself out of the truck. He stumbled and caught himself against the vehicle, his breathing shaky. Ever since Buck’s death Eddie had struggled to feel like he was standing on solid ground. Without Buck he felt like he was just stumbling around, unable to steady himself. Taking a deep breath, Eddie forced himself to walk. One foot in front of the other, taking the path that he knew by heart, a path he wished he had never had to walk. Finally he found what he was looking for. Eddie had meant to stay standing but the second his eyes settled on Buck’s named carved into the stone he fell to his knees, the weight of his grief, of his pain making him fall. EVAN ‘BUCK’ BUCKLEY Or, the one where Eddie stands at Buck's grave, mourning what could've— should've— been.

jess craved violence one fine day and decided to stab me lovingly right under my 3rd rib with this and i've been OBSESSED with them ever since! just the type of cathartic release i need

-

The best parts of you are here (but you're still gone) by justhockey

Eddie had taken Buck’s hand and squeezed it three times before he ran into that burning building. It had felt like a promise. Like a flash of all the dreams that were about to come true. Eddie never came back out. And now Buck is stuck here in this house. His grief, and Christopher’s grief, and Eddie’s absence are the biggest things in every single room. Their pain fills every crack and every crevice, their anger - at Eddie, at the job, at the world - is so thick that they can taste it.

justhockey usually writes the softest stuff and makes me sigh happily and wiggle my toes. the way they whipped this one up outta nowhere? took me the FUCKKKK out

[fuckyeahfightlock]

My scary movie for today was one my witchy friend Carrie has been recommending for years, The Love Witch.

Written, Directed, Produced, Scored, Edited, Set-Designed, Costumed, and just generally handmade by Anna Biller, The Love Witch is a feminist horror/comedy starring Samantha Robinson as Elaine Parks. Elaine is a witch determined to find a man to love her wildly and forever, but her love spells all go wrong in unexpected ways.

This film is a masterpiece. Shot on 35mm film and cut from the original 35mm negative (in 2016!) the film is a meticulous, loving homage to 1960s and Technicolor films, from the set design, costuming, and colour palette to the lighting, shot composition, and effects. The acting is stylized and presentational; the dialogue is genre-typically stilted in service to the plot; and the frame is always crowded with beautiful things to look at--drawing the viewer's eye away from the beauty of the female actors, serving a feminine gaze (what woman doesn't want to scan every inch of the kitchen that serves as the backdrop for a dinner-date?). The women are impossibly glamourous and gorgeous; the men are all trolls, even the "handsome" ones. There is full frontal female nudity, but only in shots that also contain full frontal male nudity; the film is an unapologetically feminist examination of themes of gender roles and expectations, feminine power (and male fear of it), sexuality and romance.

If you're a film nerd, this movie is a treat--the Herschel Gordon Lewis meets Valley of the Dolls vibes are immaculate--and knowing what an absolute labour of love and art it was for its filmmaker, who spent over a year making costumes for just one scene (among other feats), I will not say a single bad thing about it, even if I wanted to.

The stylized acting works well; Samantha Robinson's luminous beauty serves her role of Elaine perfectly, partly because about half the job is posing. The fastidious recreation of a circa-1967 film means lingering shots of people in transit from one mark to another within a scene, and lengthy dialogue pauses that would be fast-cut right out of a modern film; as a result the movie's pace is languid and its run-time is long (2 hours), but not a second is wasted.

Highly recommend this movie--which is not really a horror movie--because it is truly unique, and a lot of fun.

[merakiui]

Don't mind me-- I'm just looking at old doodles in my files and found this, so I decided to drop this on ur doorstep where the horrors originally came from ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

(°ロ°) ! omg omg omg OMG OMG!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAA THERE HE IS!!!! THE ONE RESPONSIBLE FOR SAID HORRORS UWUWUWAAAAAAAA OTL OTL this is yet another wondrous masterpiece....... I am so very blessed and honored to behold it. Thank you!!!!! T^T 💖

Jade with the lemonade... his smile is fooling you!!!! He has depraved thoughts in his brain!!!!!! >:( scary, horrible android... AND AZUL AND FLOYD AAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! >w< zuzu with the wedding band............. it's too precious. 🥺 he was doing his best to be a better husband and Floyd was slowly becoming human AND JADE RUINED THAT GRRRRR....... >_<

I love your art so so much!!!!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ thank you for placing android Jade on my doorstep!!! I will give him many hugs even though he inflicted many horrors. orz I'm weak to his destructive charm...