#collection of macabre stuff

[thelittlestspider]

when i say i could just read an entire book or listen to a podcast about someone just describing weird shit in a collection or a museum.

[alnilaem]

you buy a second-hand laptop from a dodgy craigslist user only to make a carnal discovery hidden between the files.

cw for anal sex, face fucking, pet play, choking, masturbation, noncon filmed sex, overall dubcon, reader is fujoing out

ghoap (x reader)

-

You saw it in a flitting advertisement. Used Acer Aspire V5, female buyers only, and didn’t hesitate to contact the poster.

Ghost was his screen name. Macabre, but not something to dwell on because he��s selling the only affordable hand-me-down you can find. He insisted on meeting at a hole-in-the-wall pub, beneath a metal sheet awning. There’s a cigarette pinched between his lips as you approach, an overripe mask rolled over his broken nose.

“You’re our bird?” He asks in a Manchester hint, exhaling a plume of off-white smoke.

You stifle over that operative word—our—but push through it and meekly nod, preening at his feet.

Beneath the predatory glint of his eyes, you realize you’ve gravely miscalculated the calibre of this situation. Meeting a complete stranger in a gritty alleyway and waiting to pick up his scrap-metal laptop, all because it satisfies your budget.

“Yeah…” you mumble. Try to make yourself invisible even though it’s redundant—he already towers over you, his shadow eclipsing your body, his heat drinking you in.

“‘ere it is,” he grunts. “You’ve got our cash?”

You hand him the crumpled wad of paper, squirming as he passes his thumb over his tongue and folds through the money, counting it with a mean curl of his lips.

“That’s– is everything alright?”

He stuffs the money into his jacket and expells a deep prusten sound, like an idle predator. “Fine. Pleasure doin’ business with you, bird.”

Ghost turns on his mud-clogged boot and strays off, letting the shadows swallow him whole. You hold the bulky laptop to your chest and wield it like a weapon on your way home, finally settling into bed, ready to examine your new purchase.

The hinges creak as you pull it open. A grimace splits your cheeks at the dust crusted in the margins, the rings of juice gummed to the mousepad.

A few letters from the keyboard are missing, and a few strips of tape look dog-eared, peeling from the corners, exposing the laptop’s internal wiring. Gossamer-like, spiderweb cracks work across the edges. The screen is a blotchy eyesore, striated with horizontal lines.

You have to beat your knuckles on the laptop to keep it from jamming. You navigate the desktop with simmering irritation, invaded by the inkling that you’ve been utterly scammed. Nothing matches the photos advertised on Ghost’s account, and just as your annoyance is about to ripen into white-hot anger, something catches your eye.

It’s nestled into a nook on the desktop. It’s an unnamed folder that stares back at you, unassuming, the icon already half-opened and waiting to be examined.

You double click it, more like triple click, actually, since the mousepad decides to cramp, and squirm as the folder flares over the screen. It’s a collection of videos, their thumbnails all spotty and dark, eclipsed by the thumb of whoever’s holding the camera.

Their titles are as cryptic as their photos.

wet.avi; tail_plug.avi; no_prep.avi; with_price.avi.

You find yourself scrolling lower, your fingers working against the mousepad like a rapidly unfurling spool of thread. You decide to investigate one of the videos, one with a foggy, filmy thumbnail, and carefully heed the title before poising your finger above the open function.

johnny_leash.avi

The video is grainy, as if it was imported from a camcorder rather than a phone. The first few seconds are a blurry with grey-scale strobes running across the screen, radiating an aura of seediness that makes a hint of discomfort sink like sediment in your stomach, adhering to your viscera. A deep, damp squelching sound peals out, tempered with the sticky noise of something being broken in, hollowed out.

The camera ebbs, settles, then focuses all at once. You think you’re going to faint.

It’s someone’s puffy ass getting stretched out on a fat cock. It puckers and tightens with each piston-paced thrust, red.

A large hand belonging to the person recording enters the frame. Their hand tattoos stretch as they split their palm across the hind of their spine, the cameraman’s fingers digging sickle-shaped scratches into their back, clawing them down on their battering ram of a cock.

“Quit whinin’, Johnny,” the voice behind the camera loudly grunts.

The one getting split open, Johnny, snivels into the pillow. His spine is curved into the mattress, his ass pert and sticking in the air, rippling with the force of the cameraman’s hips.

A plume of dust travels over the screen, fleetingly concealing the image. When the soot thins into the air and bares the salacious material of the video, you gasp.

There’s a glint caught on something silver from the feeble lightning. It’s a chrome-plated chain, you see, connecting to Johnny’s throat. A leather collar cutting into his ruddy skin. The leash is wrapped around the cameraman’s hand like a reel, and each time he tugs, pulling his hand back as if winding up for an attack, Johnny gets peeled off the bed, his back arching so deep you’re sure it’s close to snapping.

“Shit, Simon—!” He squeals. “Can ye… slow down?”

The aforementioned Simon grunts. Animalistic, like a rabid predator. The camera whirls, the unromantic colours of the room they’re in bleeding into each other, and when it focuses, you see Simon’s large palm splayed against the back of Johnny’s half-shaven skull, gripping his hair, pushing him into the bed.

The man flails like a fish out of water, struggling under his hand. It prompts an emergency response out of you—the way he’s being fucked into the mattress, no doubt pressing a Johnny-shaped chalk outline like the ones at crime scenes into the bedding. Alarm seizes you, and the thought of submitting this to the authorities trumpets like strobe lights in your mind.

The video is written with inept non-professionalism, reeking with the sentiment of a found-footage horror film that it’s not the authenticity that rattles your bones like a wind chime, but the morality.

You tell yourself to stop the video, but as the thought squeezes itself between your ears, Johnny’s hoisting his neck back and peering into the camera, his striking-blue eyes flaring in all-encompassing horror. His lips pop open and wrap around a soundless scream, warbling.

“Yer recordin’ me?”

“Smile for the camera, Johnny,” Simon pants. “Who knows who might see this, right?”

Simon shoots his hand up and bullies his fingers past Johnny’s lips. He sinks his nails into the round of his mouth, stretching his cheek back into a repugnant curl. It’s paradoxial—how Johnny’s mouth is pulled into a smile, but his eyes are wide and wet, wordlessly begging.

Your body betrays your moral plight.

Your rapt ocular vein, the signals rushing to your mind, your nipples stiffening in your shirt. You feel as though you’re made of livewire, not matter, as you watch Johnny’s ass get spread open on Simon’s cock, his eyes rolling like unruly billiard balls to the back of his head.

His ass is red and patchy, burning up. Simon’s hand swats through the air and makes the sound of a whistle, flaring into a booming crack of thunder whenever he brings it down on Johnny’s ass. It makes you jump. Makes you feel as if your ass is being abused by proxy just by sitting, and watching raptly.

Instead of inching your hand towards the button that exits the video, your hand dips below your waistband and moves to cup your cunt.

The gusset of your panties is already hot, clinging to your dewy core. It sticks to your pussy, baring your puffy lips and swollen clit. You give it a few slaps and rub your fingers languidly, pace quickening.

But the video abruptly ends before the ascent to your pleasure is able to materialize. You yank your hand from your pussy, smearing your arousal on the mousepad as you search for another video.

You don’t heed the title—face_fuck.avi—before clicking it and readily spreading your legs, flushing at the sound of your lips parting.

The video starts, and you swear it feels like you’ve been hit with a brick.

Simon���or Ghost, you now recognize—is a behemoth. Huge would be an understatement for him. The camera is set up this time, somewhere across the room, but Simon still just barely fits within the margins. He’s folded over Johnny who sits on his knees with his back against the wall, his neck hoisted up at him.

Simon’s cock is fat and heavy. He’s hard—this, you’re sure of because of how red his balls are—yet still, his cock droops with weight, the bulbous tip scarcely teasing Johnny’s lips.

“You want your snack, boy?”

Johnny nods. He darts his tongue out and tries kitten licking the slit, but Simon isn’t having that. He grips the base of his dick and swats it against Johnny’s cheek, slapping him, the noise so thick and resounding it sounds like a palm that breaks his skin, not a cock.

“Greedy bitch,” Ghost snarls—you decide that name is more seemly for him—“Can’t wait when it comes to dick, huh?”

Johnny’s lips part, a response poised behind his chattering teeth. However, his reply gets snuffed out and shoved to the back of his throat as Ghost feeds him his cock, slamming into him with one, slick motion.

Johnny’s head hits the wall, his face puckering as pain blooms behind his skull. The action makes his jaw clench, clamping down on Simon’s cock, but Simon is quickly gripping his hair and puppeting his head back, sliding his cock deeper, until the tuft of steel-wool hair on his pelvis brushes Johnny’s nose.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Ghost grunts. “No teeth.”

The only mercy Johnny is afforded is when he sinks his nails into the sinews of Ghost’s thighs, scratching him striated, trying to offset the burn in his jowls. The back of his head thumps dumbly against the wall with each of Ghost’s jackhammering thrusts, his smaller cock springing up and slapping against his navel.

You keen. Rub your clit a little faster, tease your forefinger around your winking hole as spit and precome sticks to Johnny’s chin the same way your juices strings your fingers together. Johnny goes lax and the video abruptly ends, and you almost feel yourself going crazy, hastily exiting the video because you miss the phantom sensation around your cunt getting stretched. You click on another video that has your heart jumping to your throat.

It’s dated from just yesterday, two days after you placed the order with Ghost.

breeding_my_boy.avi

Your panties are completely soaked through at this point. The image of Johnny folded like origami under Ghost, eclipsed by his body, makes you gush. His knees are pressed against his ears and his ass is in the air while Ghost tugs his cock, towering over him and pressing his tip against his hole, slowly sinking into him.

Simultaneously, you hook two of your fingers up your cunt. Your arousal seeps out and pools into the divots between your knuckles, hot and wet, making a sucking sound as you draw your fingers out and thrust them back in, pawing your walls.

Ghost pulls his cock to the tip before driving himself back inside. He’s deeply-seated, knocking the air out of Johnny’s lungs with each stroke. Ghost draws his thighs close for leverage and sinks his fists into the bed, on either side of Johnny before snapping his hips, feeding him his whole cock.

You sink your other hand below your pants and blindly sweep at your clit, watching with keen eyes as Johnny gets pounded into the mattress, his legs thrashing dumbly with the force, his hands twisting into the moth-eaten sheets because he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands and according to Ghost, he’s “not allowed to touch his cock.”

You can barely see Ghost’s sweat in the coarse-grained, gritty video filter. It comes out as glistening dew, dribbling down his neck and onto Johnny’s cheek, to which he swiftly laps up.

It’s the same thing for Johnny’s tears—sparkling in the soft smoulder of light, smearing like spread as Ghost works his rough tongue against his cheek, licking up his brine.

Johnny’s whimpers and the crack of flesh against flesh emanate out of the janky laptop as tinny, thin. However as Ghost lowers his head, grumbling against the hull of Johnny’s ear, whispering, the thin sound travels out of the speakers and punctures your stomach.

“Wish I could breed you, pup…”

Pleasure gyrates in your belly, frothy. You curl your toes into your mattress and buck into your fingers, feeling your orgasm beginning to crest. You pinch your clit the same way Ghost snakes his hand low, trapping the tip of Johnny’s cock between his fingers to squeeze.

“Smile a’ the camera, dog,” he mutters. Takes him by the jaw and dimples his cheeks as he makes Johnny look into the lens, his eyes glossed over.

“Y’reckon she’s touching herself?” Ghost growls. “Watching you turn a mess?”

Your orgasm is on the edge now. Ghost looks at the camera, his eyes glowing like predators do on trail cams, a swill of molten rushing through you. He looks like he did beneath the awning—animalistic, as he seems to stare directly at you, snapping into Johnny’s ass.

“m gonnae come…” Johnny whimpers.

Ghost chokes his hand around Johnny’s cock, sliding his hand up and down to the pace of his thrusts. And with what happens next, your body girdles, throwing itself into the throes of your panoramic orgasm.

It’s Johnny. Bending his back off the bed and squeezing his thighs. He moans your name—your screen name—the one used to purchase the laptop. He treats it like something to bite on to defer the pain of his orgasm, trembling.

Thick ropes of come shoot from his cock just as an off-white liquid escapes you, splattering over the screen. You’re quivering as Ghost fills Johnny, watching as his balls tighten and breathe like a pulse as he comes inside.

The three of you are miraculously synchronized. Your laboured breaths simmer, thinning into nothing, as the two of them turn to look at the camera.

You undertake the decision to keep the laptop.

And a week later while browsing Craigslist’s homepage, you stumble across a familiar username.

Posted by Ghost 32 minutes ago.

Looking for a flatmate in Manchester. Two roommates. Three bedroom. Females only. Serious inquiries only.

A second doesn’t pass before you’re writing up your application.

[wolfsbanejewelry]

Rodent skull and roses pendant available Wolfsbane Jewelry (link)

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: your mother had warned you. Don't let them know, she'd said, her nails digging angry crescents into the flesh of your upper arms, eyes wild and imploring, don't let them know you can see. you'd listened, all these years, you'd lived your life by that rule. until you couldn't.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.1

Like most things, it started with a look.

A boy. A girl. A crowded place; a friend talking—their voice muted as if heard through a motel wall. Time slows. People filter in and out of the space between, chatting, laughing, in frame just long enough to emphasize the weight behind something that, in any other context, would be utterly unimportant.

Simon had urged you outside at lunch, pulled you away from your table, tone frayed in desperation as he interrogated you about things you're certain you'd made seem the expression of a morbidly quirky imagination.

"Well," He said, like jabbing the eraser-end of a pencil into your sternum, "Can you?"

You hesitated, gaze lifting away from his to skirt the middle-distance behind him.

And then—

It happened molasses-slow. Your eyes caught his; lingered a beat too long to be played off as anything other than what it was. Acknowledgment.

Those sweet-sultry cow eyes widened a fraction.

Oh no.

Then time rushed back in and snapped into the correct rhythm. You didn't have a chance to process what had just happened because Simon sighed with the weight of the world, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling. Quickly, you arranged your expression into something slightly put-off.

"Si, what are you talking about?"

Simon groaned and took a few steps back then forward again. He reminded you of a caged animal being forced to perform. Lately, his mannerisms had been erratic, a little unhinged. You'd caught him talking to himself a couple of times, in classrooms or the cafeteria. The last couple of days he'd been glued to his phone, taking spontaneous calls that he'd never received before. Initially, you'd assumed he was in touch with Maddie; the only one she'd trusted enough to keep in the loop. However, the more you'd observed, the more you'd doubted the assumption.

You'd watched him unravel from a distance, of course. Nicole had turned inward, Simon was bursting at the seams, and you, as the casual friend with a life separate to theirs, stayed away out of a sense of insecurity.

You and Maddie hadn't been as close as she and Simon and Nicole. You shared interests in the macabre and spooky, but that's where it ended. Event Buddies who became familiar through exposure, lacking that profound connection that would give you a reason to call about something other than the next horror film release date.

You didn't feel right about asking to share their grief. It felt intrusive.

Simon paced the length of the bus shelter once more before stopping in front of you. He was clearly nervous, frustrated, avoiding your gaze for a second while he collected his thoughts.

Finally, he took a deep breath, glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and said, low and secret, "You talked about the ghosts here—" You folded your arms and tilted your head in what you hoped came across as confused. "—Last year," Simon grabbed your arm and pulled you in closer when a group of younger girls walked by, "Last year, you told us about the crush you had on your mom's dead boyfriend, remember? The guy who died during the '83 homecoming game?"

"They never dated." You corrected, fighting the urge to chew your lip. A giveaway that you were about to choose your words very carefully. "But, look, Simon, I talked about that stuff because I thought it was fun. Not because I can commune with the dead."

"But your mom—"

"Is a fraud and you know it." Then you frowned, genuinely intrigued, "What's going on?"

Simon shot you a dazed look, "Huh?"

"Why are you suddenly into this Sixth Sense shit? You've never believed in it before. A stance you've made very clear you take." Every time you joked about reaching out to the Other Side, Simon would scoff and roast you endlessly. Something that you found endearing. Like a prickly inside joke. It was your thing.

Suddenly, Simon got that look on his face, the one he got in class when your teachers outlined your homework. As if he were listening to someone. Except there was no one else close enough to hear.

The silence stretched into a thin static between you until, at last, Simon said, "Never mind." He sounded equal parts defeated and aggravated.

Taking a cautious step forward, you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about Maddie, Si, I—" Have no idea how to put into words how fucked up it all is, "—I wish there was something, anything, I could do to help."

Simon pressed his lips together and nodded. From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching the bus shelter. Tall, broad, donning the unmistakable colors of the Split River Bandits, née Devils. You had to get out of there before you irrevocably fucked up and found yourself at the center of what your mother warned you would be a swarm.

"Look," You dropped your hand to Simon's, squeezing supportively. You might not have been able to tell the whole truth but you could try to offer some comfort. Whether or not he believed you was up to him. "Maddie's okay, Simon. Wherever she is. Whatever happened to her..." You paused, considering your next words, "She can't be so far gone that we won't get her back."

You said it with all the conviction you had in you, believed it to your core.

You'd seen the beatnik with her lollipops, the shy boy with the glasses; you'd seen the young man in the outdated suit, and the modest, Sally Olsson lookalike, and the girl with the daydream eyes. You'd seen the myspace emo punk, the lanky autoshop geek, the dark-skinned disco queen; the marching band, and the theater kid...and him. The charming, high-on-life football star currently stood outside the bus shelter, his hands cupped around his eyes as he peeked through the glass against the glare of the sun.

You hadn't seen Maddie. Not a glimmer or a shadow or the impression that she'd been and gone. Nothing. And you'd done your due diligence as soon as you'd heard about the blood in the boiler room. You'd scoured the town after dark, before school, whenever you could get away without raising suspicion. Her old haunts and favorite places had been empty.

Minus a couple of exceptions, but they hadn't been Maddie, so you didn't see the harm in continuing to keep the truth from Simon.

"Yeah." Simon said. He didn't sound convinced. "Thanks. For that."

You deflated, released his hand with an affirming squeeze, and made your excuse, "I gotta get ready for next period."

He didn't meet your eyes, simply pulled his phone out and put it to his ear. "See you later." The smile he gave you was tight, quick, insincere.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turned and exited the bus shelter, tall dark 'n' handsome keeping pace as you made your way back into the school, his gaze a warm weight on the side of your face.

All you had to do was pretend he wasn't there. You'd done it countless times in the past, were well-versed in how to cover your mistakes.

You stopped briefly, reached out to open the door, and in that second, you felt a tingle up your spine and the closeness of a body behind you. His voice, a gentle rumble, spoke directly into your ear, the parody of soft breath tickling the hairs on your neck.

"I know you can see me."

You forced yourself not to react, perhaps stood a second too long before yanking the door open and marching inside, but you kept your eyes forward, and relaxed your jaw and shoulders. To the students milling about the hall, you were the picture of normal.

"Do what you want but I'm not going anywhere until you admit it." He said lightly, a step behind you as you maneuvered toward your locker.

Once again, you had to stop, twisting in the combination to open your lock. You fumbled, missing a number, had to start again. He leaned his shoulder against the locker beside yours, watched you through his lashes, a smirk pulling one side of his mouth upward.

You'd always been attracted to him. Had to suppress the urge to stare at him when he appeared in the same classroom or hallway you happened to be in. Having him interact with you, intentionally, made your heart quicken and the ability to think critically dissolve.

Oh God, not again...

Your brain fired a thousand synapses in every direction as you willed yourself to hurry before you accidentally did something stupid; steadied your hand to input the combination correctly. You tugged the lock. It stayed stubbornly latched. And then he leaned in, too close, the tip of his nose practically grazing your temple.

"You missed the 3."

The air was syrupy thick, fuzzy. In an effort to concentrate, you closed your eyes, repeating a mantra your mother had taught you to center yourself.

You sensed his body shift, tilted further toward you like a bracket, then the sensation of blunt nails traveling up up up your back, catching in the material of your shirt as if the touch were real. Goosebumps erupted over your arms, your breath hitched, and you found your head slanting in his direction.

Fuck. You needed to—BANG—Jesus Christ!

Your eyes snapped open at the abrupt noise, your friend cackling wickedly as she took in your shock.

"Hey, silly." Mathilda Grace—of The Split River Graces, not that she'd ever say it like that—grinned proudly at the reaction she'd gotten out of you. "You ready to fail this test with me?"

You could still feel him hovering, but it seemed he'd put an appropriate amount of distance between you. Shaking your head to clear the last of the muzziness from a moment ago, you plastered on your most natural smile and responded, "Let's go disappoint our parents."

You managed to undo the lock and grab the right textbooks, transferring what you didn't need from your bag into your locker while Mathilda regaled you with what you'd missed after Simon had dragged you outside.

"What did he want, anyway?" Mathilda asked, more concerned than curious.

"To talk about Maddie." You replied as close to the truth as you dared. It had the added benefit of making Mathilda feel awkward enough to change the subject immediately.

"K, c'mon, bell's about to go and I need to grab my book, too."

Shutting and locking your locker, you chanced a sideways glance and were relieved to find that it was just you and Mathilda and the regular stream of other alive-and-well students making their way to their next class.

Still, as you and Mathilda walked toward Ms. Fields' class, you felt the tingle of his gaze on the back of your neck.

The next couple of days would be white-knuckle hard, but you'd dealt with it before and could do it again. Had to do it again.

What you didn't anticipate—and probably should've, given what you knew about him—was Wally Clark's steadfast determination and his refusal to let sleeping dogs lie for a second time.

💀___________________________

PART TWO

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[mushiemellows]

These mf’s need a better name than Old Strawhat Polycule but I will present regardless

Franky and Robin need no introduction. She finds him interesting and a good dose of silly guy cures the depression like nothing else. If a man (35, blue hair, pronouns, naked, craftsman, surfer, local union representative) built me a fish tank and a library, I too could simply not resist. He thinks she’s the most gorgeous beautiful stunning intelligent funny wise woman in the entire world because she is.

Robin and Brook, likewise, ooooo the macabre appeal of the hanahone ship. She licks him in the way that archeologists lick rocks and bones to figure out if they are a rock or a bone and she thinks it’s a funny joke every time. He thinks she’s the most gorgeous beautiful stunning intelligent funny wise woman in the entire world because she is. When they go to the beach he buries himself halfway in the sand and she digs him back up and she thinks it’s sooooo funny every time.

Brook and Franky lay stoned on the deck noodling their guitars and they’re like when two rockstars kiss on stage. Brook stands there like an anatomical model when Franky’s gotta crack open the hood and points to stuff. They’ve got the same strand of “lived in isolation on an abandoned ship” disease but Brook’s just for it 9x as bad (50 years to Franky’s 4). Sometimes they make Franky run on Milk to see what it does (you DONT want to see Milk Franky)

Jinbei 👏 and 👏 Franky both love 👏 SUNNY!!!! They get her, and to understand Sunny is to Understand Franky and he stands there and he watches Jinbei drive his car like the master that he is and it makes him Feel Things. They listen to dad rock. They go surfing together. They go snorkeling together. They go fishing together. They go to 2pm Wednesday half priced movies together. They go bowling together. They share a shirt collection.

Robin and Jinbei free political prisoners!!! The thinks he’s handsome, she thinks he’s kind, she thinks he’s Just. She thinks he’s admirable. They organize protests, they attend community meetings, they figure out direct action. She’s kissing fish men and it’s making the papers for the revolutionary act that it is (and the papers can’t even comprehend when Franky Kisses Him). He thinks she’s the most gorgeous beautiful stunning intelligent funny wise woman in the entire world because she IS!

Brook And Jinbei used to Go to Chilis together but then chilis got rid of the 2 for 25 deal (because of inflation) so they’re a little mad about it and are taking direct action against the banks. And trying to find a new restaurant to go to. They’re considering getting into lawn bowling/bocce because bowling nights with everyone are getting too expensive (because inflation is too high! $75 for 4 people to bowl for an hour????? We can have bowling at home!!) but it’s not the same.

And then they all pile up when they sleep too because a cuddle pile ain’t just for the younger crew

[ghoularcade]

I'm back with part 2 of Gloomy Spring, a 4t2 collection of items for those who enjoy the botanical, the antiquated, and the macabre! This time, we're outside in the garden....

This collection consists of a lot of 4t2 conversions of Romantic Garden Stuff! They were originally done by Ladysimplayer8, Linacherie, and TNW! I simply added the recolors Luned did for ts4 (if you play ts4, seriously check their stuff out. Their plant recolor collections are a must!).

You also get a cafe dining set by Alialsims, a skeleton by Serinion, and an open diary by Joyceisfox! All converted by moi...

SFS (65.4 mb, swatches included so you can keep/discard what you want!)

Have a haunting and boo-tiful spring!

[nerdy-nook]

Toga Himiko Headcanons!

(slight spoilers)

She's a daydreamer and a hopeless romantic. She often finds herself dreaming of love, someone that would provide her with unconditional love and understanding.

Mange was like an older sister to her. Toga always wanted a sister, someone who would help her feel less alone.

She used to help Toga do her iconic buns, after her death Toga couldn't do her hair for weeks.

Horror movie fanatic, slashers are her fave. I think she would enjoy the older ones, think late 90s early 2000s, stuff with a grindhouse vibe.

Her favorite movie is "House of 1000 Corpses". I mean a found family of criminals who are anti-astablishment with complex motivations and a love violence and blood?

Baby would be her favorite character, she would see herself in her.

Toga really loves fashion! She loves something cute with an edgy/creepy twist.

Menhera and Morute are two of her favorite styles. Spikes, chains, oversized tops, fun socks/tights, platform shoes are all things she adores and wishes she could afford.

Curiosity is this cats middle name, Toga has a habit of asking invasive questions and getting into other peoples buisness.

She was an only child and other kids never wanted to get near her, so she never learned those social boundaries.

What do you mean she can't ask how Dabi got his scars? Why can't she touch Shiggy's video games?

She ran away at twelve, so when she first got her period she freaked out because she was never told about it.

It took Mange and Twice about 30 minutes to convince her she wasn't dying/going to die.

Toga is a lot like a crow, very social and likes to collect things.

Anything shiny, macabre, and anything with sentimental value is going into a box under her bed.

So far the box is full of bones, teeth, stolen jewelry, wine corks, tiny ceramic animals, locks of hair, and anything particularly old.

[plaidpyjamas]

Where's all the Yautja x reader stuff where reader isn't freaked out by the human skulls in their partner's trophy collection? Where are all the readers who love macabre stuff and would be more than happy to receive a human skull as a gift????? WHERE ARE MY PEOPLE

[littlelovelyra]

The Danse Macabre (pt3 The Change)

Chapter 3 of The Change is here!

if you prefer AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56298823/chapters/143106514#workskin

Notes: I've edited this as much as I can, I'll revisit it again to check for any more errors in writing - I apologise if there are any grammar errors etc.

Summary:

You are invited to celebrate the inauguration of Lord Ever Gortash, he makes a special request for Tav to accompany him for the first half of the celebration. Astarion is furious about this but can do nothing as you need to keep up the appearance of being Gortash’s ally. While at the celebration another attack of Cazador’s spawns takes place marking this the final straw for you and Astarion.

Warnings: Violence, fingering, creepy gortash, possessive Astarion, Jealous Astarion, fluff, romance, cute stuff.

MINORS DNI

Astarion:

“You are cordially invited to celebrate the inauguration of Lord Enver Gortash.

A masquerade ball will be hosted this evening, wear your best attire.

Location: Wyrm’s Rock Fortress

Attire: Masks mandatory

This invitation should be presented upon arrival, to ensure access is allowed.”

You read the letter aloud and sigh exasperated, flinging your hands down to your sides another letter falls out from the envelope. Quickly you snatch it up and begin reading it out loud.

“My dearest Ally, Tav,

It would delight me to have you at my side for this special occasion, I have left you a gown with Figaro, he tells me you are well acquainted.

My one request is to have you until the end of the first dance, you may then break away to mingle should you wish to do so.

Yours loyally

E”

You scoff and place the letter down on the table. “That’s hardly enough notice at all. I knew he was delusional, but really? As if we would even entertain letting you out of our sights for even a moment." You turn to Tav and the rest of the group as they all look around uncomfortably. "What? What am I missing?" You arch an eyebrow at your lover.

"Well, Astarion, we are still his 'Allies'. We can't afford to not give him what he wants, lest we raise any suspicions," her voice is soft as she nervously plays with her hands. "I know it is asking a lot to let me do this, however, it's just for show and it's one dance. Then I will come straight back to you, I promise." She walks forward, takes your hands and you feel a slight tremble in hers.

"Yes, well, it may just be for a little while, but need I remind you that we have been having some rather rude interruptions of our own from my siblings? What if they are there? Even if they're not, what if Gortash wants you for more than just a dance?" Your voice raises in pitch slightly near the end of your question, and you feel the anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach. Are you… jealous? Nonsense. You have nothing to be jealous of… what can Gortash give her that you can't?

Well, I suppose he could give her riches, power beyond measure, and… protection… he would be able to protect her. Something I have not been capable of thus far. You stop yourself and push those thoughts deep down. You'll deal with them later.

“Fine. If you want to parade around all evening with Enver then who am I to stop you?” The words come out sharp and you watch her wince at their sting. You exit the room to your sleeping quarters and fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling you feel your chest tighten as you think about her in someone else’s arms.

___________

Tav:

As you stand there, you try to compose yourself. You will deal with him later. He is being very childish right now, and perhaps he needs a moment to collect his thoughts. For him to even imply that you would spend all evening with Gortash is ridiculous.

“Gale? Would you mind accompanying me to Facemaker’s Boutique?” You turn to the wizard who seems a little too happy that you had chosen him for this task. Perhaps Shadowheart would have been the better choice but Gale… you were close with Gale, he was a dear friend to you who had always taken the time to listen when you needed to be heard. You needed some time with a trusted friend and Gale was the most trusted.

"It would be my pleasure," he says, bowing slightly at the waist. As the two of you exit the Elfsong Tavern, you make your way towards Figaro’s shop. “He’ll be okay. I think he’s jealous of Gortash's interest in you,” he calmly says, trying to ease the tension.

“He has nothing to be jealous over. It is ridiculous to imply that I would stay a moment longer than needed at Gortash’s side.” You bite out. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just want to get this over with.”

Gale offers you a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. “It’s alright Tav, you don’t need to explain yourself. Let’s get through this evening and go from there, however, I believe we should have an escape plan in case any unexpected situations occur.” His face darkens with concern. “There is a sigil that can lead us back to camp, but reaching it may be challenging. I came across an amulet that allows the wearer to cast a Dimension Door spell, I’d like you to wear it that evening. I will feel more at ease knowing that you have options.”

“Thank you, Gale, you are a good friend… I am glad I pulled you out of that rock.” You smile at him and place a hand on his arm, he nods and returns a smile as the two of you arrive outside Facemaker’s Boutique.

After about half an hour of small talk with Figaro, you and Gale have made your way back to the Elfsong Tavern with your mask and dress. Gale had chosen dress clothes and a mask for himself.

You decided to buy Astarion an outfit that would complement your gown, along with a matching mask. You hoped that this would help him move past his reservations.

You spend the rest of the day washing your hair, helping Shadowheart choose between two dresses, and running through plans of escape if anything were to go wrong.

“Grab whoever is closest at the time, use dimension door to get to the sigil and then use said sigil to return here safely… did I get that right?” You sarcastically look at Gale, this is the third time he has made you repeat this plan. He raises his hands and says “Alright, I am satisfied.”

Rolling your eyes, you excuse yourself and make your way toward yours and Astarion's room. You open the door slowly and cautiously only to find the room empty. On your pillow is a piece of parchment with a note in his handwriting.

“Gone for a bite to eat - I will see you at the celebration. - A”

Sighing you place his outfit on the pillow and scribble a note back on the other side.

You retrieve the bag that holds your dress and open it. It is probably the most beautiful item of clothing you own. The dress is form-fitting, hugging the curves of your body with a slit up the left side, long sleeves, and a shallow v-neckline. It's nothing too scandalous nor too conservative. The colour is a deep midnight blue, but as the fabric moves, it shimmers silver as if Figaro stitched the stars themselves into the material. Your hair is loosely braided, and you have opted for a pair of silver sandals with ribbons that crisscross their way up your calf, stopping just below your knee. The amulet Gale has given you is a silver chain with a single ring-shaped pendant in the middle. Finally, your mask takes the shape of an owl bear’s face, the colour matches your dress, a midnight blue and shimmering in the light.

As you leave the room, you encounter your companions in the shared quarters. All eyes are on you, and you swear you see Gale’s face flush as he says, “You look wonderful.” You give him a small nod of appreciation and announce that you will be heading to Gortash for the first half of the evening and that you will meet them there.

You take the sigil to Wyrm’s Rock, present your invitation, and proceed to Gortash’s private quarters. Softly you knock on the door and hear him call out on the other side “Who is it?”

“It’s Tav, I figured you wanted to enter the celebration together. I can wait out here if you need more time.” You keep your voice calm even when your stomach feels like it might cave in.

“Oh! What a brilliant idea. The people need to see us united. Let’s talk business shall we?” He crosses the room and opens the door. He has opted for his usual all-black colour palette, however, his mask is a deep red in the shape of a skull. He places his hand on the small of your back and guides you inside. This is going to be a long evening, you think to yourself.

__________

Astarion:

The hunt wasn't very successful, but you managed to corner a small boar. It would do for the evening. Back at the Elfsong Tavern, you return to your room, on the way you hear the rest of your companions laughing as they get ready for this evening’s festivities. You stalk your way to the bedroom and find it empty. Walking to your bed you see the note has been scribbled on and placed atop an outfit and a mask. Picking up the piece of parchment you see her handwriting and it reads:

“Came to give you this to wear tonight - I look forward to seeing you I love you.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you place the note down to pick up the outfit she had bought you and begin to dress. No one has ever bought you something this extraordinary before, hells, no one has ever bought anything new for you. The top is a dark blue, detailed with constellations on the front, the sleeves are long and the fabric is a soft silk. The trousers are cool-toned grey with one black stripe running down along the outside of the legs. The mask is an owl bear’s face, the colour a midnight blue but when you shift it in the light, it shimmers like the constellations on your shirt. You find a pair of black leather boots that you recently purchased and slip them on. For good measure, you tuck one dagger in the side of each boot and make your way to the group.

“Well, don’t we all look ravishing?” You say leaning in the doorway. “I believe it’s time to go now, let’s not keep Tav waiting too long, hmm?” You take the sigil to Wyrm’s Rock, your companions arriving seconds later and you make your way in.

As you enter the hall, you scan the room, searching for her. You spot her standing next to Gortash, near his throne. Gods, she's beautiful, you think to yourself. Your eyes take her in, the form-fitting dress hugs her body in all the right places. Your eyes roam down her figure and gods above the slit exposing her left leg sends a rush of blood to your core. Her dress a deep midnight blue is a stark contrast to her fair skin but it complements her, as the fabric moves you see shimmers rippling across the fabric they look like… constellations. You glance down at your shirt and realise what she has done. It's her way of showing you that she is yours—the matching colours, the embellishments, and the matched masks.

The moment is soon over as you watch Gortash place his hand on her lower back as he whispers something in her ear. You watch as she throws her head back in a laugh returning a smile to him.

"I need a drink," you announce to your companions. Stalking over to the refreshment table, you grab two glasses of wine, quickly downing the first in one gulp. You have nothing to worry about, you know that she is just playing the game with him but yet it makes your blood boil. Let’s just get this over with, you think to yourself.

Suddenly, the room grows quiet as the first song begins to play, marking the start of the festivities. You watch as Gortash leads her to the floor, his arms encircling her waist, pulling her into a tight grip as he sways to the music with his body pressed against hers. You feel as though you might be sick at the sight of it.

After what feels like a lifetime the other guests join in creating a sea of swaying bodies. You grab Shadowheart by the hand and pull her towards the dance floor.

“Astarion what are you doing?” Her face was visibly shocked. “I am taking back what is mine.” You growl as you twirl and sway your way through the crowd. Alliance be damned you will not allow him to hold her any moment longer.

You are now dancing alongside them catching part of their conversation. Gortash leans to her ear and speaks boldly, “We could be good together, you know? Your talent for persuasion, my ability to rule with an iron fist. Not to mention you are absolutely mouth-watering.”

“I’m flattered Gortash, however, mixing business with pleasure is never a good idea.” She quips back earning herself a wicked smile from him. “You may change your mind, think on it.” He says with a sly smirk.

He pulls back, taking her hand and twirling her in a spin. You expertly intercept, spinning Shadowheart in Tav's place, a quick apology escaping your lips. She looks back at you with daggers in her eyes, while Gortash flashes a wicked smile, his eyes gleaming at the silent challenge you have just issued.

Tav looks up at you, and before she can say anything, your mouth crashes down on hers. Parting her lips, you slip in your tongue; the kiss is sloppy and hot with passion. She pulls away, breathless. "Astarion, what has gotten into you? We cannot afford to make another enemy right now.” Her eyes scan your face, gripping her hand you sweep her away out to the balcony.

“Astarion what is wrong?” Her voice is softer, laced with concern.

“His hands were all over you. The way he looked at you. The way you laughed with him… He can offer you riches, power… protection” You whisper, “I cannot compete with that. Who am I compared to that? A helpless spawn who has brought you nothing but trouble.”

"I'm not asking you to compete, Astarion. There is no competition, and even if there were, you would win by a landslide." Her voice is soft as you place your hands on the railing and lean over the balcony to look down.

She walks up to you and wraps her arms around you from behind, resting her head between your shoulder blades. She softly speaks, “Do you want to know the moment I knew that I had fallen for you?” She says as she pulls back her arms laced around your neck, you give her a soft nod.

"At the blighted village, when we heard that ogre and bugbear rutting in the barn, everyone else turned up their noses at my suggestion to open the door. But you looked at me with a devilish grin and asked if you could interrupt them. As soon as you kicked that door open, I knew a life with you would be filled with mischief, fun, and excitement. I realised I could be myself around you, and you would just jump right in with me, no questions asked. I was so right about you. Life with you so far has been entertaining in the best possible way. Even with me becoming a spawn, we get to do this forever. I used to dream of finding ways to be with you eternally, but I didn’t have to go searching—it found me. I refuse to let this change be something negative. No, it is a gift."

You stand there still looking out over the cliffs of Wyrm’s Crossing letting her words sink in as she continues. "You're too hard on yourself, you know? You are amazing, you just haven't been allowed to shine.”

You shift around to face her, dropping your gaze to meet her eyes. "And do I… shine?" your voice is soft, and you hate how pathetic it sounds.

"You are the brightest star in my skies," she whispers, taking your hands in hers.

Closing her eyes, she opens her mind, utilising the tadpole. As you connect to her thoughts, she shares everything that has happened between the two of you. You witness it all through her eyes, seeing yourself as she sees you. Your throat tightens at the images that play between your interlocked minds, and for the first time, you believe that you are worth something. You have spent too long dead in the box Cazador placed you in, it’s time to start living again.

You place a soft kiss on her cheek and pull her towards the sound of the music holding her close to you as you sway in time with the ballad. Your hands slide down her waist and rest themselves on her backside, she twists her face to yours her eyes flashing with mischief.

“This dress is dangerous, little love. I can’t wait to see it on the floor of our room.” You bend down whispering in her ear as you rake your lips along her jaw.

___________

Tav:

His lips trace hot kisses down your neck and you don’t care about where you are anymore, all you care about is his touch.

“TAV. TAV! It is time to go NOW” Gale forces himself into your mind. Your head snaps up and Astarion tenses, his body already on high alert. You glance around the room taking in your surroundings and in all directions you see a few glowing red eyes under the masks of attendees all making their way through the crowd to you.

“Astarion- .”

“I see them. Don’t worry.” He cuts you off holding you close to him. His hand glides down his side and reaches into his boot. One of the spawns reaches his side, Astarion slams his dagger upwards into its body and it disappears in a cloud of red ash. The crowd separates in a panic as the other spawns run towards you. Another appears to your side, Astarion pulls you away propelling his dagger into their neck and again they vanish.

Gortash sees the commotion, orders the steel watch to intervene and the machines start making their way to aid you. You lock eyes with him and he gives you a small nod.

You grip Astarion’s shirt and he glances down at you “Quod dice face!” you yell and the two of you are teleported to the sigil where your party awaits.

“We can’t keep running like this! It needs to end Tav! It has to end.” You scan his face and you can see he is tired, tired of running… tired of these games.

“I know… I know. We go back to the Elfsong now, we take the evening to plan, gather the supplies and rest. In the morning we will leave.” You rarely use this tone however they have appointed you their leader and lead you shall. Running and avoiding was only making matters worse, the time has come to take action.

You find yourselves back in the main area of the shared quarters, everyone has their roles assigned to them. Shadowheart is readying her healing potions and antidotes, Gale is preparing spells that he thinks will be the most effective, Karlach has asked Lae’Zel to help sharpen her blades and you and Astarion are running over the layout of the palace. There is only one entrance so the element of surprise may be an issue but you will work with what is given.

After a few hours of everyone preparing you have decided to call it a night, all of you need rest for tomorrow. Your companions head to their beds for the night as you and Astarion make your way to your shared room. You start to remove your dress and you feel his hand fall on yours.

“Little love, I still want to take that dress off of you.” He whispers into your ear and a chill runs down your spine. Slowly his hands glide up your arms as he pulls one arm out of the dress at a time. He trails kisses down along your neck and across your collarbone as he pulls the remainder of your dress down until it lands in a pool on the floor.

“You are so beautiful.” He kisses your cheek. “So thoughtful.” Another kiss to your lips. “So strong.” His lips graze your neck. You release a soft moan and tilt your head to the side allowing him better access. “… and so, very generous.” He breathes and sinks his teeth into you, he pulls you into him with one hand placed on your stomach holding you in place. His other trails down your body and his fingers slip between the folds of your heated core. He groans against your neck in appreciation of your readiness for him. He works his finger in slow lazy circles around your swollen bud, the sensation teases you most delightfully.

After the third pull from your neck, he releases his bite and kisses the little puncture wounds. He is still rubbing tantalising circles in you as he guides you back to the bed. Just before he settles the both of you down he shifts below you and lands on the mattress placing you on top. His fingers never missing a beat, he places two fingers deep inside you while he rubs the pad of his thumb against your sensitive bud. He angles his head to the side offering you his neck and slowly you bite down hearing his breath catch. As you take your first pull of his blood into your mouth your body catches fire and you start riding his fingers. Stars appear in your vision, your breathing becomes shallow and you shatter into a wave of pleasure.

“Hmmm, good girl.” He says as he brings his fingers to his mouth cleaning them off slowly as you watch him. He folds his arms around you and kisses you deeply, “Let’s rest now little love, we have a big day tomorrow.”

You nod and inhale his scent… sleep finds you shortly after.

_________________

Astarion:

Petrichor and cinnamon, you breathe her in as the morning light trickles in through a crack in the curtains. She lies sleeping on your chest and you watch her head rise and fall with every breath you take. You need to succeed today, you have so much you want to experience with her, you want to build a life with her, have a home with her… hells you would start a family with her if it were possible. You’d find a way to make it possible. You want to give her everything and more.

You place a soft kiss on her forehead and she stirs awake. “Good morning, lover.” You say teasingly as a goofy smile spreads across her face.

“Good morning… lover.” She plants a small kiss on your neck and cuddles herself into you. A moment later she sighs, “I suppose we need to get up now.”

“Yes, but today is the start of a new beginning, my love.” You peel yourself out of bed and begin dressing in your leather armour. She follows you reluctantly putting on her armour that is quite similar to yours, black leather pants, a black leather top and boots that sit just below the knee. You chuckle to yourself, matching murder outfits…how cute.

As the two of you make your way to your party you hand her a glass bottle with some blood you had saved from your most recent hunt. You share it as a top-up, last night’s blood sharing was more than enough but you would rather be safe than sorry.

You find yourselves standing at the entrance to the palace and you hear a soft click. “Well, that’s suspiciously welcoming.” You open the door cautiously and find… no one. You all enter the building standing in the foyer taking in your surroundings.

“So this is it. I’m home. There’s the same fading carpet, the same tasteless art… nothing’s changed, but gods, everything feels different.” You look around the building feeling anxious.

“What’s it like being back?” She asks placing a hand on your back.

“It does feel strange, breaking into your own home. Especially if murder is on your mind. Then again this is hardly the strangest thing we’ve done together. Although it could be the most satisfying. Well, the second most satisfying…” You give her a playful smile as her cheeks flush.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks softly her eyes searching yours with concern.

“Oh, I’ve never been less sure of anything. But if I don’t face him now, I never will. We’ll spend the rest of our lives running, watching the shadows, never feeling safe. No, this has to happen. Here and now.” You pull her into a hug.

Today is the day you take back your life. Today Cazador will get what is coming for him. At the end of this, it will be him on his knees begging you to show mercy… and just as he taught you, there will be no mercy for the weak and pathetic.

You wanted me here? Well, here I am you bastard. Today I will hear you scream in pain, you will die at my hands.

_______

Part 4 here

[thedarkone121]

Anne-Marie’s Doll Collection

I told myself I wouldn’t post anything about these little guys until I drew a picture of most or all of them together. But thanks to Lodgetembr, it looks like I have an excuse now.

Everyone, meet Anne-Marie’s haunted Doll Collection!

I did eluded in previous posts that Anne-Marie has a fascination with the macabre and and spooky topics, which led to the though of: “This girl would have the most spookiest doll collection there is…” Lo and behold, I created fourteen of these little suckers.

Are they haunted? Are they alive? These are legitimate questions people at the Society have. Maijabi and Tanis, two resident spirit experts, are afraid to be in the same room as them. No one knows what they are… But they can that they’re always watching.

Anyway, onto the individual Dolls themselves!

Sam: The first doll that Anne-Marie ever collected and the leader of the rest of them. Anne-Marie found him in a shop not long after she was adopted by Jekyll, she found him in a glass case and begged her father to buy him. The shop owner was more than happy to get rid of him. Sam is the one who communicates with Anne-Marie the most and keeps all the other dolls in line. He is one of the dolls that Hyde is deathly afraid of.

Ted: Part of the animal collection Anne-Marie found in a store that was more than happy to get rid of them. Likes to hang out with Socks and Nelly. Lost a piece of his ear battling Riot and refused to let Anne-Marie fix it, saying it’s a scar he wears proudly.

Socks: Part of the animal collection Anne-Marie found in a store that was more than happy to get rid of them. Likes to hang out with Ted and Nelly. Ears are too big for his head so he often lags behind. Fun to whip people in the face with if he’s feeling mischievous.

Buttons: One of the dolls Anne-Marie found in the trash. A feisty little fella who insisted on having their eyes be on their stomach. More than happy to charge at things, but ends up running into a wall more times than not.

Dory: Part of the animal collection Anne-Marie found in a store that was more than happy to get rid of them. Likes to hang out with Max and helps him move around faster. Lost an eye trying to defend Max from Thrasher and wears her scar proudly… Even though she ends up running into things.

Cy: Short for Cyclops. Lost his arm in a scuffle with Cotton but didn’t want Anne-Marie to patch it up. For some reason, he really likes wool clothes.

Thrasher: One of three violent dolls from the collection. Was also found in a dumpster. She was named for always wanting to punch things and get into more physical fights. Filled with an unstoppable rage and wants to beat everything up. She is one of the dolls Hyde is terrified of.

Rain-Bo: Another Doll Anne-Marie found in the dumpster, only they were more damaged the rest who were. Had a lot of opinions on what color of fabrics they wanted to be sow back together with. Like to think of themselves as the second-in-command. Do not ask why they wear a rope around their neck. Just don’t.

Nelly: Part of the animal collection Anne-Marie found in a store that was more than happy to get rid of them. Likes to hang out with Ted and Socks. Is somehow the gentlest of the entire Dolls, doesn’t participate in the horrors but will if he has too.

Max: Part of the animal collection Anne-Marie found in a store that was more than happy to get rid of them. Likes to hang out with Dory and acts a bit of a guide dog for her. Lost his legs in the store but never asked Anne-Marie to give him new ones, so he tends to crawl around if Dory is not around. Has the urge to howl every now and then.

Riot: One of three violent dolls from the collection. Was also found in a dumpster. Is the more calmer one of the three, but still very deadly. Is very fascinated with the red stuff that comes out of humans and likes to use sharp tools. Anne-Marie keeps the sharp objects away from them.

Cotton: One of the dolls Anne-Marie found in the trash. Has a permanent smile stitched on their face. Always seems to be laughing at something and has tendency to joke about everything. They are one of the dolls Hyde is terrified of.

Dumpster: One of three violent dolls from the collection. Was also found in a dumpster, but he was the first Anne-Marie found so he got the name. Like Thrasher, he is a ball of rage that wants to get his energy out. Only he does it through headbutts, hence the broken of his head. Lost his arms in the dumpster but refuses to be given new ones. Is a headbutt maniac.

Clover: The latest doll Anne-Marie had collected. The young girl found her about to be thrown out by a store owner. Was named for her green color. Is also the fastest of the dolls, can pretty much outrun a lot of people.

[tinytinyblogs]

Hi!<3 was wondering if you could write a yandere seungmin where reader finds out he’s obsessed and gets all bratty calling him creepy and stuff until he shoved her on the bed and puts her in her place

Keep in mind

It was all about timing, and you only figured it out now. His forever.

(yandere theme, obsessed seungmin, and a lot more) 1,4k words

💬Ta-da! Request complete (fingers crossed)! I'm always in training mode, giving it my A-game. Other requests are open season, just a friendly reminder that I don't write smut. I hope you understand.

Stray kids masterlist here

He used to be a portrait of chivalry, wrapped in charming cuteness. A constant, caring presence, admired by all, his gaze forever on you. Wherever you went, his shadow lingered, an echo of every word whispered on your lips, every opinion uttered about you. He devoured your secrets, accumulating them like trophies in his ever-growing shrine. His excitement, once endearing, morphed into a chilling possessiveness. Every gift became a claim, every memento a stolen piece of your soul. Your reflection, captured in his lens without your consent, became his currency, an ever-expanding catalogue of your existence. Behind his mask of innocence, a disquieting reality lurked. You dismissed your anxieties as unfounded, your worries mere whispers in the wind. But a nagging doubt refused to be silenced. And then, with a single, foolish 'yes' to his seemingly harmless request, the truth shattered the illusions.

He wasn't smitten, he was enthralled. This wasn't puppy love, it was a predatory obsession. The scales fell from your eyes, revealing a darkness hidden in plain sight. The cute prince had become a stalker, leaving you trapped in a gilded cage of his own making. The air hung heavy with a stifling dread as you stepped into Seungmin's room. It was a macabre museum of your life, each carefully collected item a chilling testament to his obsession. Photos plastered on the walls, your possessions eerily familiar in their alien display, cast grotesque shadows under the flickering light. Every inch screamed of your stolen intimacy, a suffocating tapestry woven from the threads of your life. The click of the front door echoed in the tomb-like silence, a brutal punctuation mark on the spiraling paranoia gnawing at your insides. Then, his voice, like honey laced with cyanide, slithered from behind you, "Glad you could make it."

"Surprised to see you here. I almost expected you to run off with your shiny new coffee buddy." Every nerve ending in your body screamed. The sickening sweetness of his words, the way he knew about your coffee shop conversation like it was etched into his bones, it all solidified the terrifying truth. He wasn't your charming friend, he was a puppet master, pulling the strings of your reality. A tremor rippled through you, nausea churning in your gut. "Sick," you rasped, the word falling short against the immensity of your disgust. His secrets, whispered against the backdrop of your adoration, felt like a slap in the face. The years of admiring him from afar, building him up in your mind, now crumbled to dust, leaving you with an aching sense of disillusionment. You spun around, facing the monster he truly was. "Seungmin, you're... goddamned sick," the accusation rang out, a strangled cry against the suffocating darkness of his obsession.

Yet, Seungmin's face held no remorse, only a chilling serenity. The air crackled with his warped delight, his eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. "Insane, Stay away from me!" your voice rasped, the words hollow against the suffocating atmosphere. But your plea bounced off him like a feather against steel. Laughter, cold and metallic, erupted from his chest, echoing in the cramped room like a chorus of demons. "I hate it, i hate you." His laughter echoed like cruel applause as your choked whisper of hatred washed over him, each chuckle twisting the knife deeper. "Oh, Y/N," he drawled, the familiar charm morphing into something monstrous, "that's hardly fresh news. This," he gestured expansively at the shrine to your stolen privacy, "this is just a love letter, penned in stolen moments." You recoiled, the nausea returning with a vengeance.

The Seungmin you'd known, the gentle, almost fragile boy, was a wisp of smoke blown away by the chilling reality before you. This monster, capable of collecting your existence like trophies, could do more than crush an ant. He could crush you. "Me? Sick? Crazy? Insane?" His smile, once boyish, now held a cruel edge. "What else, my dear Y/N? Let's hear your full repertoire of accusations." His voice, still honeyed, twisted with a hint of irritation, as if your resistance was an inconvenience rather than a threat. He leaned closer, a predator savoring his cornered prey. "Tell me," he breathed, his eyes glinting with a twisted challenge, "what else shall I be for you?" The room spun as he lunged at you, his predatory smile glinting in the dim light. You stumbled back, searching for any avenue of escape, but Seungmin was upon you in a flash. His hand, once seemingly so gentle, clamped around your waist with an iron grip, his strength far exceeding anything you'd ever imagined.

He spun you, your vision twisting as the world tilted and the plush bed rushed up to meet you. A gasp escaped your lips as you landed with a jarring thud, his heavy form pinning you down. His arms caged you, their warmth a suffocating contrast to the icy fear slithering up your spine. "Cat got your tongue, little mouse?" His voice, once melodious, now dripped with a cruel amusement. You saw a flash of something unfamiliar in his eyes, a dark hunger lurking beneath the surface. You tried to push him away, your breath coming in ragged gasps. But it was like fighting a shadow, his hold unyielding. His face loomed over you, his smile twisting into a predatory smirk. "Call me whatever you like, Y/N," he purred, his voice brushing against your ear like a venomous whisper. "But remember this," his eyes bored into yours, pinning you as surely as his body, "you will never, ever be out of my sight." The air thrummed with a suffocating silence, broken only by your choked breaths and the rapid hammering of your heart. You felt small, helpless, like a fragile butterfly trapped in a spider's web.

The Seungmin you once knew, the boy of sun-kissed smiles and gentle whispers, had vanished, replaced by a dark stranger whose eyes held the glint of a predator savoring its prey. The harsh crack of his fist against the bedframe echoed in your skull, the world tilting on its axis. A stunned silence stretched before his voice, laced with a dark amusement, washed over you. "Stay away from you?" he mused, his face a chilling tableau of conflicting emotions. He leaned closer, his hot breath a cloying presence on your cheek. Your eyes locked onto his, the once familiar warmth extinguished, replaced by a possessive glint that sent shivers down your spine. "My dear," he uttered, his voice a honeyed trap, "that's the exquisite beauty of today. You are finally mine. All mine." The weight of his words pressed down on you, each syllable a heavy stone pinning you to the bed, to him, to this suffocating reality.

You envisioned sunny afternoons spent in carefree laughter, stolen smiles shared with someone new – all ripped away in a single blow. "No more stolen moments," he continued, his gaze tracing the lines of your face, a predator savoring his prey. "No more whispered secrets traded with fleeting shadows. No more need to stalk your every step, for every path now leads back to me." The room shrunk, morphing into a gilded cage, the air thick with unspoken threats. His words, laced with a twisted affection, were a chilling promise of forever, a possessive claim etched into your very being. You tried to escape the suffocating hold of his gaze, a desperate attempt to reclaim your stolen breath. But his fingers, quick and cold, snagged your chin, dragging your attention back to those eyes you once mistook for innocent pools of sunlight. Now, they burned with a possessive fire, an unsettling echo of the darkness hidden beneath his charming facade.

"Make sure you etch this into your fragile little mind, darling," he purred, his voice dropping to a silken whisper that sent chills down your spine. "From the very first moment, I set my sights on you. You were mine, in my mind, in my soul. And nobody, nobody on this earth deserves the flicker of your attention but me. Not a knowing smile, not a whispered word. Understand?" He leaned closer, his breath hot on your skin, a palpable threat hanging in the air. "Because if you stray, if your eyes dare to linger on another, I won't hesitate to show you exactly what I'll do to them. You'll witness firsthand the wrath of a jealous god, and I promise, you won't like the picture." He pulled back, a chilling smile twisting his lips. Seungmin traced the lines of her face, a map he'd memorized over countless stolen glances. Her fear, though muted, was a heady perfume, intoxicating him with its promise of absolute control. He'd craved her for so long, a phantom limb finally finding its missing piece. And now, with her under his arm, the world felt whole, complete. "Keep in mind, darling."

©Tinytinyblogs

[tomatosoupcat]

Seasons of Life

🍅 A Sims 4 Legacy Challenge 🍅

Required Packs: Seasons, Life & Death, Discover University, Island Living, Cottage Living, Eco Lifestyle, Snowy Escape, Outdoor Retreat, Paranormal, Crystal Creations

(graphics) (base game version)

General Rules:

You can start with any season you like, depending on your mood. After that, simply follow the natural progression of the seasons in order.

Play on any lifespan you feel comfortable with (I recommend long so you have more time to enjoy your designated season).

Goals with an asterisk * are optional.

Each generation will have a color theme (2-3 colors) that you can either spin for or select using their corresponding color wheel.

Start with the sims starter budget of 20k.

Skills are more like hobbies, you don't need to max them out unless you want to. Instead, incorporate them naturally into your gameplay for a more enjoyable experience.

For each generation, write a bucket list and complete it.

Autumn/Fall

You've always felt a deep connection to the past, especially the untold stories of lives once lived. As a Mortician, you offer comfort and guidance, helping others navigate their final farewells. Your fascination with the afterlife fuels your passion for writing and spiritual communication. Crafting candles is another way you honor this connection, bringing light to where darkness has taken hold, and creating moments of peace for those who have departed.

Colors: https://spinthewheel.app/BUX2XpbCyZ Aspiration: Ghost Historian Career: Undertaker (Mortician) Traits: Bookworm, Loner, Macabre Skills: Candle Making (fabrication), Thanatology, Medium, Writing, Baking

Goals: 

Spin or choose 2-3 colors from the respective color wheel.

Live in Ravenwood or Forgotten Hallow.

*Own a black cat.

Build a secret room in your house dedicated to spiritual communication, filled with creepy stuff, books, and your candle creations.

Hold séances regularly and communicate with spirits to further your knowledge of the afterlife.

Have a baby with the Grim Reaper.

Complete the Tarot Card collection.

Complete the Ghost Historian aspiration.

Winter

Growing up, holidays were always a special time for you—a chance to come together, celebrate, and experience something out of the ordinary. Your love for adventure led you to take up skiing, and your curiosity for how things work pushed you into engineering. You have a fascination with shiny objects, too, which fuels your desire to complete the gem collection. But your real pride and joy will be the day you bring a Servo to life, a mechanical companion that will share in your festive spirit.

Colors: https://spinthewheel.app/snqHArXyqB Aspiration: The Curator Career: Engineer (Mechanical Engineer) Traits: Outgoing, Ambitious, Loves Outdoors Skills: Gemology, Logic, Robotics, Handiness, Skiing

Goals: 

Spin or choose 2-3 colors from the respective color wheel.

Study Physics in Foxbury to earn a degree.

Build a Servo and add it as a household member.

Practice skiing regularly.

*Go to all the Mt. Komorebi festivals.

Collect every gem in the game to complete the Gem Collection.

Host at least one major party or celebration per season/holiday.

Reach the top of the Engineering career by maxing out the Mechanical Engineer branch, where you can truly live out your ambitions.

Spring

Spring is a time of fresh starts, you find beauty in every blossom and new connection. You’re deeply connected to nature, with a knack for growing plants and arranging flowers. Your garden is your peaceful escape, where you spend time tending to it, making homemade juice, and crafting cross-stitched gifts. Full of romantic energy, your dream is to find lasting love while staying close to the freshness and color of spring. Whether creating floral arrangements or nurturing relationships, you live with an open heart and a love for all things that bloom.

Colors: https://spinthewheel.app/BNiCeRWGo4 Aspiration: Soulmate Career: Gardener (Floral Designer branch) Traits: Romantic, Green Fiend, Cheerful Skills: Flower Arranging, Romance, Juize Fizzing, Gardening, Cross-stitch

Goals: 

Spin or choose 2-3 colors from the respective color wheel.

Grow and maintain a beautiful (flower) garden, using it as your main source for flower arranging and juice fizzing.

Have bees and harvest their honey.

Sell your juice with a sales table.

Be in a polyamorous relationship.

Cross-stitch gifts for your loved ones as romantic gestures.

*Have pets or farm animals.

Hold a spring wedding in a garden or outdoor space.

Summer

Summer is your favorite season, a time when you thrive being outdoors, and surrounded by family. You cherish those moments spent on fishing trips, at cookouts, or singing campfire songs with a guitar in hand. Family means everything to you, and your dream is to create a warm, joyful home where you can pass down these cherished traditions, like camping adventures and fishing outings. With your part-time job, you value your downtime, often enjoying some well-deserved relaxation when you're off work.

Colors: https://spinthewheel.app/UexIB1BIcT Aspiration: Big Happy Family Career: Fisherman Traits: Family-Oriented, Loves Outdoors, Goofball Skills: Fishing, Guitar, Parenting, Cooking, Comedy

Goals: 

Spin or choose 2-3 colors from the respective color wheel.

Live in Sulani or Tomarang.

*Live off the grid.

Go camping at least once every season. (Granite Falls or other worlds)

Marry a Mermaid.

Have at least 3 children.

Host regular family barbecues, kava parties, or cookouts.

Teach your children fishing and guitar, passing on your love for both.

[oddballwriter]

Unexpected Addition Part 3: Next Move

Summary: And with the group of mysterious artifact thieves making their next move, you and the boys make a plan and head off to get to their next location and be steps ahead.

Warnings: Marc is still a bit snarky and makes some vaguely rude comments to the reader. There’s some fluff with Jake at the end. 

Author’s Snip: Okay okay okay. I can see that this series is the fan favorite. I’m sorry for neglecting it. /gen And I’m sorry for trying to feed you vampire reader propaganda. /j /lh I will say that actually reading over the past two parts helped make this one. If I’m being honest I don’t really remember what my reason for not making part three was??? Maybe I really was hyper focused on Dwelling in the Night. I hope this suffices. Maybe not, I don’t know.

Notes: Unimportant information but I was listening to the Mandela Catalogue Heaven Says remix on loop while writing this.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,144

It had been some time since the last move of this mysterious group that was collecting paranormal and macabre artifacts. It was honestly a longer waiting game than any of you, including your gods, would have liked. Too still of water sometimes meant that something was happening and you all just hadn't become aware yet. But lo and behold, you manage to catch fresh word of some ritual artifacts in Africa and China just got nabbed.

"They're still moving in the same direction!" you screamed out in joy when you unlocked the flat's door, carrying a bunch of things in your arms. Marc was the one fronting at the time, originally enjoying a televised game of baseball until you started screaming like a mad woman. "What in the world are you screaming about? Who's moving in the same direction?" Marc grumbled, you quickly answered with "The group we've been waiting for. They're finally making a move!" in a joyful voice as you shuffled around to lay out a few things to definitely show and explain to him some master plan that you managed to cook up.

"Can this wait or...?" Marc asks. You glance towards him, having your giddy smile fall at the comment. "Marc, this is part of our mission," you say, "And if my theory is correct then no, it can't." you add.

Marc just shrugs it off and walks towards where you are, where you have a printout of two articles, a map of the world, and a pencil in hand. "Alright. Start talking, and keep it short." Marc prompts. You nod and begin.

"So I already mapped out the spots they already hit before we stopped them. Well, I noticed that they were going in a certain pattern. England, France, Russia, Romina." you explain and list off, though Marc could tell that you had now put a cap on what most likely would have been similar enthusiasm to when you first explained this to Steven. Nevertheless, you go on, now drawing out spots on the map, "But now that China and Africa just got hit by them, that confirms my theory that they were going clockwise and still are.". You do take a moment to comment "It's kind of dumb to still move in the same pattern that you were before though.".

"Maybe they were just betting that laying low would do the trick." Marc suggests. "Then that means we're going to be a few steps ahead of them now." you reply. "That's my girl." Marc could hear Jake praising you from inside his head. Well, at least that means that he's listening to the information, if he's not busy ogling at you that is.

Marc focuses back in on you and what you're saying. He was distracted for a little bit of the rest of your explaining but from what he could gather it was along the lines of that they will continue going in a clockwise path around the world. At some point, the words clear up and you say "So, their next location will be Japan. I mean, that place would basically be their candy store, there's a lot of paranormal and spiritual stuff there.".

Marc thinks over the theory and next location, scanning the marks on the map with his eyes. He quarks a brow when he notices a hole in the theory for Japan being their next stop. "What about India? Don't they have a lot of spiritual stuff there too?" Marc questions. You look at the country printed on the paper saying "Oh, yeah! I knew I missed something in my briefing.", you pick up the article clippings you had printed out. "The theft in Africa and China happened a while ago with China being the last place to be hit. There was a similar time frame with the two of them and the rest of the other locations. So they're most likely already there and in the midst of planning on how to get things there. It would be best to beat them to their next location on their route. In the meantime, we can make our own plan and finally have a way to take them down." you explain, "Like I said, we'll be a few steps ahead of them." you comment.

For a second, your arm almost moves to boop Marc on the nose, but you stop the motion before your finger can actually make contact, "Did they get all that?" you ask as you switch the motion to seem like you were going to point at his head in reference to Steven and Jake. Marc nods, ignoring the habit and pretending that the point was what you were trying to do originally.

"So, I'm guessing that we need to book and pack now and then catch the earliest flight to Japan?" Marc asks, to which you confirm with a nod.

After a long few days of booking, packing, flying in the crack of daylight, and traveling, you finally made it to your hotel in Japan. To say that the two of you were severely tired and jet-lagged from the trip was an understatement. Marc barely noticed the fact that in the room there were actually two beds. He must have started for longer than he thought he did because you interject, saying "The second one is for you and Steven, and Jake if he wants some space." you add before lying down on the other bed.

You figured that after you laid down to sleep of your lag, Marc did the same because after being pretty much unconscious for who knows how long, you're waken up by the weight on the bed shifting and arms wrapping around you. Turning around, you hear Jake's familiar voice say "It's just me, bella durmiente.". You feel his stubble on your neck as he nests his head between the gap while he gets into a spooning position and puts the covers back over you and him.

"In case I want some space my ass." Jake comments with a soft laugh, "Like I'd want to not sleep in the same bed with you when I have the chance." he says as he kisses your shoulder. You smile and roll onto your other side so that you can now face towards him and bury your face in his warm chest. "I know this is a mission and we're meant to plan out how we're going to get a stake on these people, but we can use getting info as a way to see some places." you mention. You feel Jake's chest vibrate as he hums in approval of the idea. "That would be nice." Jake says, "More time for bonding and also having some really nice dates." he remarks.

"We'll see..." you say through a yawn just before falling back asleep with Jake following suit after.

[jad3dwolf]

Soooo pretty 😍

Rat skull bracelet available on Etsy: Wolfsbane Taxidermy

[water-to-drink]

The Great Vampire King Reawakens

(Pairing): Vampire!Al haitham x gn!reader

(Synopsis): You’re fascination with vampires leads you to explore a recently abandoned mansion and eventually you come face to face with a real vampire

(Tags/Warnings): Reader likes researching the supernatural, blood and gore, reader is chased and harmed, some foul language, Al haitham doesn’t show up until nearing the end, lmk if I missed anything

(Word Count): 2k

(A/n): Spooky season is here so why not start it off with a spooky fic!?

Myths and superstitions have been with mankind since its inception, attempts at explaining what once was unexplainable has always fascinated you. Entities to explain a whole range of natural and unnatural occurrences such as: angels for supposed miracles that might be hallucinations, demons for why people got sick and died without warning. The latter interested you more, especially vampires

You don’t know when you were originally captivated by vampires but you know you had a need to learn about them since an early age, you might have been a priest who would kill supposed vampires that were in actuality regular people at the wrong place and the wrong time

That same interest lead you to where you are now, driving a rented car to a mansion hours away from your house. Said mansion once belonged to a deceased woman who had the same fascination with the supernatural as you do and spent her life collecting items relating to it. Stuff like bones from cryptids or jars containing the organs of werewolves. You aren’t going there with the intention to steal anything, it’s just some normal, harmless urban exploration. You just plan on seeing the woman’s collection, take a few pictures, and leave before it gets too dark out to avoid meeting any unsavory characters

As the mansion gets closer into view you’re completely awestrucked by the magnitude of it. The steer size, the asymmetrical layout, the elaborate gold trim, the steep roofs! It’s the stereotypical spooky mansion and you’re loving it!! The deep purple painted all over the outside and clouds blocking out the sun despite it being mid day just adds to the ambiance!

Upon entering the mansion, you immediately notice how everything is oddly in good condition considering it’s been abandoned for over 20 years. Paint only slightly chipped, wallpaper peeled to show the brick that made up the wall, but a lot of dust bunnies and cobwebs

The rooms aren’t too interesting, just the usual stuff that you would expect in any mansion that was owned by someone with less macabre interest

However the further you notice these strange faded symbols that have been exposed due to the peeling wallpaper. The symbols don’t look like any you’ve seen before, they could be tags from former urban explorers or squatters, but that’s unlikely since ithe mansion looks like no one has been in this house since the owner died due to none of the valuables being taken nor any of the window still in tact. Could these symbols have been painted on when the house of built

After 10 or so minutes walking around you nearly called this journey a failure until you spotted something out of the corner of your eye, a mirror just slight crooked. Something looks odd about it, you don’t know why. It almost feels like you’re being pulled by some invisible force

On closer inspection you notice a little gap between the mirror and the wall. Upon removing the mirror you see a staircase leading to who knows where. Despite the stairs leading to an ominous abyss of darkness, you can’t help but be tempted to head down. A compulsion that feels stronger than mere curiosity, using the flashlight on your phone you walk down the spiral steps and find a massive library that’s in much better condition than the rest of the manor

You’re almost overwhelmed by the steer amount of books, but you decide to start somewhere so you picked up a book about vampires and decide to stick to vampires for the time being. Most of them had information you already knew of and some had new bits of knowledge you didn’t know about, however a good chunk of the books talk about a vampire king from a lost civilization. You had read bits and pieces about an ancient vampire king which you always just chalked it up to people on the internet making up stories so you never really dug further, a vampire king that’s ridiculous, but could there really be a vampire king?

All of these books are dated to be at least 100 years old but that doesn’t mean someone at a later date altered the text to fit some bias they had. So you kept reading and learned that his body was supposedly kept in the mansion when the owner was still alive. After the king’s death his body has been put into the possession of various people throughout the centuries to ensure that his coffin is covered in paper with special protection enchantments in order to prevent him from reawaken and causing havoc upon the world

Okay, maybe you should do some research about this vampire king in the safety of your own home later tonight, now that you think about it what time is it?

You pull out your phone and see it was well past sundown. Damn, you stayed way longer than you originally intended and need to get back to your car

You put the book back and walk out of the room and walk down the hallway humming a song ignorant to the figure looming behind you. An arm extends out to you and puts you in a chokehold, confusion begin to set in until the gleam of a hunting knife flashes in front of your face

“No one’s supposed to be here, but ain’t gonna let a nice catch escape me.” A gruff voice spoke just behind your ear

“I can give you my phone and wallet, just don’t hurt me.” You bargained as you turned your head slightly to catch a glimpse of the man behind you. You can barely see his face, but feel his stubble scraping against your skin like sandpaper

“I don’t want that shit! I want to see what expression that cute face of yours makes when I gut you like a fish.” The space between your neck and the knife slowly lessens as the man’s breathing gets more heavy. “Fuck! I can’t believe my luck finding someone all alone in the middle of no where, god we’re going to have so much fun tonight!”

Without hesitation you swung your leg up and kicked the creep in the balls, he drops the knife and doubles over in pain. Using this opportunity you begin to run away from the potential murderer

“You motherfucker! I’m gonna make you watch as I rip your nails off!” The man shrieked behind you

Terror filled adrenaline quickly flows through your veins and fear clouds your mind just as quickly. You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, the only thing on your mind is evade this killer! Your mind doesn’t register your sore feet yelling at you to stop nor does it register that you’re running into the lowest level of the basement. You shut the door behind you leaving you in complete darkness, using the flashlight on your phone you find yourself in some kind of cell. Weird symbols like the ones upstairs are painted on the walls and the floor littered with rotted slips of papers that have similar symbols. The room is completely bare of furniture saved for a rectangular box in the center of the room. Cautiously stepping closer you made your way near the box and tear the paper wrapped around it, finally getting the last few slips off a revolting stench reaches your nostrils. It almost threw up your lunch but you forced yourself to keep it together, you slowly reached for the top and opened the box and saw a dead body

Dried out flesh that lost all of its original color and the most horrifying part is the wooden skate embedded deep in the person’s chest

Dear god. Is that really someone’s body? Why is it here?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the door slam open

Shit! He found you

The light coming from out the basement obscured your pursuer’s feature’s while highlighting the knife in his hand. You put your arms up in an attempt to shield your face and the knife is stabbed into your forearm causing blood to splatter in various places, unknowingly on the face of the corpse you just revealed

The knife is violently yanked out of your arm and while you try to get out of the way you feel an ice cold hand roughly grabs your wrist and pull it back towards them. Your assailant stops from plunging the knife again and looks at whatever is holding onto your hand. Slowly turning your head your greeted with red glowing eyes staring right back at you, eyes that look vaguely human but contain a primal hunger you would only see from a straved wild animal. The creature slowly brings your arm to it’s face and fans puff of its breath on your wound. An inhumanly long tongue rolls out of the creature’s mouth and proceeds to lick the blood off

The creature reaches for the stake deep within its chest and pulls it out like it was nothing. You watched mortified as the wound in its chest closes up like a horror movie

Finally the creature releases your wrist and turns its attention towards your attacker, standing at full height the being towers over you and the man

“What the fuck are you-” Your attacker was cut off by the dismemberment of his hand

With the creature’s attention diverted away from you, you proceed run out of the basement. Once out of there you take the table beside a window and launch it through, you jumped out from the now broken window and tumbled onto the grass. Trying to get a grasp on where you are, you find yourself in what seems to be the back of the mansion

Shit! This means that your car is farther than you hoped for it to be

Standing up on wobbly legs you begin to make your way to the front and hope you get to your rental before that monster catches you. After what seems to be hours the familiar color of your rental slowly comes into few, a sense of relief washes over you until a wall of dried out vines suddenly appear in front of you, the surprise makes you fall on your butt

“There’s no use in running.” A raspy voice said casually right behind you

You wearily turn your head to be face to face with the monster, but instead of the dried out corpse you saw earlier you’re instead met with a youthful looking man with grey hair and a muscular frame staring down on you. One wouldn’t be wrong to think he’s human and not the monster that cut off a limb with his bare hand, but the red in his eyes and the blood on his clothes and lips reveal that this man is that very same creature you fled from

This is it, you’re gonna die at the hands of an ancient vampire king and afterwards he going on a massacre. You not only caused your own death, you caused the death of your friends and family and hundreds of innocent people

“What’s your name?” He asked voiced raspy from disuse. You give him your name, no used in fighting whatever is in front of you. “Be not afraid, for I won’t harm you.” He says as kneels down to your height and wiped away tears from your face, his hands radiate warmth a complete contrast to when his cold hands grabbed your wrist. “Tell me, what year is it now?”

“It’s 2023…” Each syllable coming out shaky and uncertain, but he seems to be satisfied with your answer

“You freed me from my prison in that casket, and for that I am eternally grateful. To show my gratitude I will offer you a deal.”

“What?”

“You have a desire to know everything about non human entities, so in exchange for my knowledge you guide me through your advanced world.”

What did you get yourself into?

[disabled-sysboxes]

WELCOME TO DISABLED SYS BOXES!

We are an account inspired by @sysboxes! We are ran by one system and create our own system userboxes for fun.

This account will focus on system userboxes for disabilities and mental illnesses.

To search for alter & system userboxes separetly, search the tags: #system userbox for system user boxes ("this system...") #alter userbox for alter user boxes ("this alter...")

If you want to find a box that you requested if you didn't see it when it posted, you can search #requested box.

Most posts will have the disorder in the tags and the description of the post, so please use the search function before asking if we have a set of userboxes for a specific disorder!

INFORMATION POSTS:

Sign Off List ───── RAMCOA Terms + Information Google Doc System Terms + Roles Masterlist Google Doc RAMCOA System Label Definitions RAMCOA System Labels Disclaimer Post What you can and can't request ───── Our RAMCOA focused Discord Server

[TEXT ID: REQUESTS]

[IMG ID: A medium blue rectangle with medium teal squiggly lines on the background. A mail icon sits to the left while text reads 'REQUESTS' on the right.]

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

Please feel free to request any kind of userbox that pertains to disabilities! They can be any combination of disorders, any silly thing to do with a disorder, anything!

[TEXT ID: RULES]

[IMG ID: A medium blue rectangle with medium teal squiggly lines on the background. A paper icon sits to the left while text reads 'RULES' on the right.]

All requests must be SFW and not explicit in nature

Due to personal preference, we will not do any userboxes that contain mentions of (recreational) drugs (inlcu. medical use of them) outside of the typical prescribed medications (anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, anti-psychotics, etc).

Requests must not perpetuate disorder specific harassment / stigmatisation such as: narc abuse, bpd abuse, cluster a abuse, all people with [xyz] disorder are awful people, etc.

Requests can include colour combinations, font requests (such as the dyslexie font), and icon requests.

If you are rude, you will be blocked. Sending hate or harassment or rude messages on anon will not be tolerated and the ask will simply be deleted.

We do not owe you anything!! We are just one mod, so things will take time!! Please be patient.

We will tag everything according to this list of common triggers. Please do not ask for things to be tagged unless we mistakenly didn't tag something that should've been. We are not responsible for your personal triggers.

Relating to tagging, bright colours will be tagged with both 'cw / tw bright colours' and 'cw / tw bright [colour name]' so people who know what bright colours they can handle are able to determine if they can view the post.

You can send it asks that are just 'how are you?' or stuff like that, we don't mind!

Our DNI is at the end of this post!

[TEXT ID: MOD INTRO]

[IMG ID: A medium blue rectangle with medium teal squiggly lines on the background. A pencil icon sits to the left while text reads 'MOD INTRO' on the right.]

We are Danse Macabre, a polyfrag DID system that is physically disabled and neurodivergent. We use he / hir / ask pronouns collectively and currently ID as a gay, intersex interfluid tfemmasc guy!

We have dyslexia, autism, inattentive adhd and a plethora of other disorders. If you notice a spelling mistake in a box please send an ask in with the link to the post and we'll be sure to fix it.

Our main blog is @radpocalypse if you want to see us losing our marbles over anything ever.

We are an avid user of sysboxes from the sysbox tumblr account, and we have a lot of ideas for our own sysboxes - which is why we started this blog.

[TEXT ID: DNI]

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Our DNI is as follows - those who fall under this criteria cannot use our boxes.

Endogenic Systems / Pro-Endogenic systems (Traumagenic w/ neutral stances can use our boxes)

MAP / NOMAP / Pears

Terfs / Radfems

Proshippers / Comshippers / Darkshippers / etc

Basic DNI critera (racist, homophobic, etc)

Zionists

Anyone who believes in cluster a / b / c abuse

Anyone who believes that alters can have disabilities / disorders the body doesn't (i.e one alter having BPD but the rest of the system doesn't). Alters can hold symptoms and show off more obvious traits than others, but the entire system has the disorder.