#collector of melancholy

[theologicalchimera]

NEW NEW TROLLSONA UFCK

ok so yeah, weve redesigned everything (:

used @superxstarzz's combined classpects!! were a collector of melancholy ((which is to say thief+maid of heart+doom))

basically me but cooler haha, anyways, here's the main info:

name : ansrae horibl

handle : theologicalChimera

blood colour : jade

lusus : chimera

weapon : half of a giant scissor ( scissors kind )

classpect : collector of melancholy ((thief of heart & maid of doom))

lunar sway : prospit & derse

land : land of fungus and gummies ( LOFAG )

lovable prick

as silly as entity can be in this god fucking society

throws up often

hates his lusus but feels bad for it

[jaceblackheart]

Dark UnderCoat By @emilyjanewhite-blog Released Via @talitres ( Talitres Records ) Added To The CD Collection

[witchnordemon]

“Are you okay…? ‘Cause you don’t seem very okay.” King Clawthorne (mellowsmuses)

@mellowsmuses

Collector tilted their head at the question. Huh? Of course they were okay, what could King mean by -

Oh.

There was that weird eye stuff again.

Collector brought a hand up to his face, where sure enough he felt a tear start to escape his eye, letting the hand linger there before wiping it away. He didn't mean to - or even notice that he'd started to cry a little.

What had began as a relaxing night watching the stars go by with King, going through all sorts of diagrams and books lent to them by Eda about the different constellations in the Boiling Isles' night sky - had become something melancholy in the Collector's mind.

They used to sit and watch the sky with baby Titans all the time, telling them stories of their time in the cosmos with the Archivists. It was such a happy collection of memories, now tainted by the knowledge that the other Titans - their old best friends - were gone forever.

But... it wasn't just sadness about that, they didn't think. They were definitely feeling something close to sad, they thought, but they were also.. happy? At the same time, to be able to watch the stars with a friend again.

❝ Yeah, I'm... mostly okay, I think. I don't know. Emotions are confusing, ❞ he huffed, wiping his eyes with a sleeve once more, ❝ I... miss getting to study all the stars and stuff, but... I'm glad I get to look at all of 'em with you. ❞ He offered, turning his head to give a lopsided smile to his Titan friend.

[ksmutsociety]

The Velvet Vault

Step away from the ordinary and uncover a world of shadowed libraries, where the scent of aged paper mingles with the musings of forgotten philosophers, and candlelit rooms echo with the whispers of timeless secrets and melancholic prose. Toast our one-year milestone by joining this event that promises to immerse you in the ultimate dark academia experience.

↳ A dark academia themed network event hosted by K Smut Society

Participant Requirements:

Open to all 21+ Kpop Fanfic Writers

Follow @ksmutsociety

Like & Reblog this event post

Participants must have a discord account to join the project server

Join Here

Submissions must meet the following requirements:

Adhere to our Society Rules.

Include at least one smut scene.

Provide a mini-playlist of at least 5 songs related to your fic.

Fic must be a minimum of 2,000 words.

Include at least one adult male kpop artist in the main pairing.

Draw inspiration from Dark Academia.

Feature a main character with one of the specified careers listed below.

Dark Academia Career List:

Librarian

Historian

Archivist

Collector

Antiquarian

Art Conservator

Museum Curator

Author

Editor

Researcher

Professor

Philosopher 

Linguist

Preservationist

Paleontologist

Dark Academia References:

Here are some common aesthetics, themes, and vibes within Dark Academia to consider when plotting your fic!

Intellectual Pursuits: A deep fascination with classical literature, philosophy, history, and the arts. Characters often engage in rigorous academic study and debate.

Gothic Aesthetics: An appreciation for the gothic style, including old, grand libraries, ivy-clad buildings, and dark, moody settings. The visual elements often evoke a sense of timelessness and melancholy.

Existential Reflection: Themes of existentialism and the search for meaning in life are prevalent. Characters might grapple with questions of mortality, identity, and the nature of existence.

Isolation and Loneliness: The protagonist often experiences feelings of isolation, whether physical or emotional, which can be amplified by their intense intellectual focus or by their outsider status.

Romanticism: A romanticized view of suffering and melancholy. Characters might be drawn to tragic or doomed love affairs, or find beauty in the somber and melancholic aspects of life.

Dark Secrets: Mysterious or sinister elements, such as hidden knowledge, academic rivalries, or tragic events. The pursuit of knowledge might lead to uncovering dark truths.

Academic Rivalry: Competitive or contentious relationships among scholars or students, often with intense intellectual debates or conflicts.

Classic Literature and Art: Frequent references to or influence from classic works of literature, art, and philosophy, often with a focus on the works of authors like Oscar Wilde, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and others from the late 19th to early 20th centuries.

Historical Settings: A penchant for settings that are old-world or historical, such as prestigious universities, old libraries, and grand estates, which contribute to the genre's timeless feel.

Aesthetic Rituals: The importance of rituals, traditions, and customs in the academic environment, often including late-night study sessions, formal gatherings, and other intellectual practices.

Schedule: 

September 2nd: Event begins

October 13th: Halfway point & last day to join

November 17th to 23rd: Posting period

November 24th: Project masterlist shared

KSS is thrilled to invite you to our first network event! We look forward to see the amazing ideas you come up with. Please reach out via our ask box if you have any questions.

[glittergelpensblog]

Shadow and Song (Azriel x Reader)

As the second youngest Archeron sister, it always felt like it was you and Feyre against the world. You felt like you lost a part of yourself the day she left, and then came back to leave again. When she shows up at your door with three winged fae, you refuse to do anything but help her this time.

This chapter is mostly the building of the reader's relationship with Feyre, there will 100% be more parts :) Part Two

It was quiet in the estate, as it always was in the winter. Nothing could be heard but the soft sound of the piano you had been messing with for the past hour, unable to create anything but a deep, somber melody.

The instrument was something you had became familiar with as a child, teaching yourself different chords, stringing them together with notes to create song. It was one of the few items the collectors did not take when they came to humiliate your father that day, the scratched and worn instrument more of a hassle to remove than what it was worth.

It annoyed Nesta when you were a child, but as you grew older and your jamming of chords streamed together to sound more like music than torture, she would sit in the room with you as you played, on those long winter nights with no sound other than the soft notes and the crackling hearth.

But since Feyre left, you were unable to put together a single song that wasn't melancholy, your joy and happy tune gone with her.

You and Feyre were always the closest, being not even a year apart. You were born on the new year, and Feyre born eleven months later on Winter Solstice. Despite you being older, it was always Feyre that protected you, never letting you into the woods to help hunt, always warning you of the town boys who's stares lingered too long.

Without being allowed to help Feyre, you supported your family in different ways, you got a job as a servant woman in the local pub, serving mead and roast to loud drunken men and women.

Even with your miserable job and Feyre's hunting, your family could barely stay afloat, nearly dying every winter, either from the starvation or from the sharp words your sisters always seemed to sling at each other, tongues the only weapons your family could truly afford.

And it remained that way for what felt like eternity, the only peace that was brought to you was seeing your sister's face at the end of the day. Safe, or as safe as she could be in the conditions you all lived in.

It was Feyre who was there for you, after every bad evening at the pub, after every hurtful word thrown your way by Nesta. She would always comfort you with her warm smile, sit by your side at the piano bench, head on your shoulder as you played. She had even surprised you one night, painting deep blue mountains all over for you to see when you got home from work.

But then she was gone, and you were heartbroken. You often wondered why it had been her who had to go take care of your aunt, and not Elain or Nesta. They were more proper than the two of you anyways, would keep her better company than a huntress.

And when your dads fortune was found at the bottom of the sea, you felt empty. Feyre wasn't there to see it, to see that you made it, to see that your family had survived.

And when she came back, she found you exactly where you would always be whenever she got home. Sitting at your piano, fingers delicately toying at the keys. It was't the same piano, of course, but a shiny new one made of maple and real ivory keys, your uncomfortable wooden bench replaced by one with a plush, deep blue cushion.

You wept, you wept so hard as you turned and found her standing behind you, you had hugged your sister so tight and fought the urge to never let go.

And she was gone as soon as she had come, telling you and your sisters the story of what had truly happened. How there was no aunt, no found fortune, but a fae man who had taken her, who had taken care of your family as he had taken care of her.

You saw it in her eyes, no longer an ice cold blue, but ones that had shone like the stars in the sky. This fae man, Tamlin, made her happy, loved her, and she loved him.

It hurt to let her go, but you knew it was what was best for her. This was no longer her life. You had tired to go with her, you had begged. But her and Nesta refused, keeping you under close watch the night she left. Feyre, protecting you from the horrors of Prythian, and Nesta, stopping you from what she was sure would be certain death.

It had been months, and you still haven't heard from her, did not know if she was okay. Sometimes, you had wondered what horrors she was enduring, but you would quickly shut those thoughts out, reminding yourself of how strong she was, how she kept your family alive for years. She was a survivor, and you knew some fae woman living under a rock wouldn't change that.

The creaking of the front door snapped you from your thoughts. You never got visitors, especially with your father gone on business. Even with Grayson, it was always Elain at his home, never yours.

Not bothering to shut the cover on your piano, you sat up quickly, brushing any wrinkles out of your maroon gown before you strode towards the entrance of the home.

"Mrs. Laurent" You called, almost at the front door. "Who is here to visit?"

There was silence as you edged closer, worry starting to edge your features. Mrs. Laurent was never silent, always a light-hearted, protective woman, being the closest thing to a mother you had ever had.

You peered over the woman's soft shoulder, the breath leaving your lungs as you took in the sight before you.

It was your sister in the doorway, an unnatural beauty and elegance lining her features. The same but different in every way.

She paled instantly at the sight of you, face contorting into worry and fear. Her eyes, so beautiful, were not shining like stars how they were the last time you saw her. They were empty. So empty.

What happened to your sister?

"Feyre." You breathed, silent tears streaming down your face now. You missed her, you missed her so much.

"Y/N" She croaked, and before she could speak another word, before any tears could form in her eyes, you had all but shoved Mrs. Laurent aside, enveloping your sister in a warm embrace.

You were scared to let go, scared to leave the doorway. Knowing she was not here to stay. The longer you held onto her, the longer it would take for her to leave.

She was taller than before. She once was almost the same height as you, but now, to top of your head barely reached her nose. You knew, you knew something that happened, that this was not the Feyre you had last seen. But you did not care. She was here, right now, and you were not going to let that go.

"You're back." You whispered, silently crying into her shoulder.

[sugar-plum-writer]

A Heian Era Affair

Paring: GojoSatrou!ModernEra x FemReader!HeianEra! Tags: Fem!Reader; Gojo!imagines; slight!mention of violence; 18+ as more chapters come; slow burn [I want to have a good build up~ just like my Sukuna series fic~]; An ancient Japan romance through time with reader Text: Gojo ends up in the Heian Era through unknown reason (will be revealed later on) and meets reader and hence a journey begins both of adventure and romance~ [If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

CHAPTER - 2

You were stuck now, you barely had enough for yourself and now this 190cm giant man was in your house, how did you end up like this even you are confused yourself. All you remember was eating something known as a cheesecake and the next thing he and you were in your house

"Oh wow, it really is old" Looking around he touched the wooden beams examining the craftsmanship

"Fascinating!"

"Well…it-"

Before you could say anything; a loud slam on the door boomed across the room making you freeze in terror- as if a demon had arrived

"HIDE!" hurriedly you shoved him in the corner much to his confusion

"Wh-?"

"Don't…make a single sound…got it? Please…" Trembling you looked at him and closed the cupboard

"Y/n! Open the door!" with a bang the door of the house flew open causing you shrink back in horror

"There you are" loud steps thumped as the wooden floors creaked underneath, a man walked in smirking- about seven feet tall, his voice dripping with malice

"If you ain't gonna pay the tax today~" smacking his lips eyeing you head to toe "I will need to collect it some other way hehe~"

"It won't be necessary, I have the money" Opening a drawer shakily- you took almost all the money you had and gave it to him

He was disappointed but took the bag of coins, "You won't be so lucky next time…Y/n" Looking at you with a filthy grin he left slamming the door shut behind him

"phew…"

"Who…was that?" his stern breathy voice made you jolt

"It…was the tax collector…he is the right-hand man of the chief…he always targets me…aish it's hard our leader is trash really", biting your lips you glared at the door the man walked out from, "I want to leave this village and go away somewhere else…but…I don't have enough money nothing can be done..." you stood up groaning

"I see…." with a nod clenching his jaw, he looked at you

"Now about you" Looking at him up and down your brain raced with what to do about his appearance, he was tall, his hair was white- eyes were blue, and he was super good-looking. His clothes were weird- he screamed attention; if anyone saw him god knows what would happen to you

"Yes, what about me?"

"Since you can teleport and all can you also change your appearance like magic?"

"I cannot…I might be able to fight, teleport etc but I cannot change my appearance- I am no magician though it would be fun heh~"

"So you are useless then"

"Hey! I am not useless! I am very strong…the strongest" pouting he crossed his arms together

"Yeah, Yeah…as if" Rolling your eyes you sighed

"Can you at least do household chores? Help around the house? Washing clothes, dishes?"

"Yeah! I can I am Gojo Satrou after all~" he smirked cockily

"Fine good…not completely useless then" Looking at him with doubt you rummaged through your drawers and took out a set of old blue robes

"This…belonged to my father... he died in a war so you can use it for now..." your voice dripped with melancholy as you handed the robes to him

"I see…well thank you I will...treasure it" he tried to smile but the atmosphere was gloomy as he looked at the robes

"By the way? What is your name?"

"Y/n is my name, you change- I will prepare dinner", walking out of the room you made your way to the kitchen

After some time, the scent of hot food and its aroma permeated the air, he sat near the table as you arranged the plates, bowls, and chopsticks

"What is this?" he looked at the food curiously like a child who found something interesting

"It is millet porridge rice, with some vegetables on the side"

"I see…no meat?" picking up his chopsticks he took a bite

"Hmm! Not bad now this 100% organic food~" humming he ate

"Meat is a luxury for nobles, we peasants…it's a dream to even eat a bite, sure some people hunt, but I can't…I don't have enough strength" Picking up your chopsticks you ate your food

"What is organic?" you looked at him, he sure used some weird terms

"It is…well...uh it's like pure food you know? without anything added to it!"

"How do you add something to food? It is gross"

"It is, the world after 1000 years is very different! buildings are touching the skies with more than 30 floors" Excited he explained many things as you guys ate, even something known as a car though you don't know what it meant, it was fascinating though

"It is....very different, your time sounds nice; I guess people are not suffering as much" you chuckled

"Our time has it's own problems but hey! maybe when I go back I can show it to you~" he smirked smugly

"Really?" your breath hitched as you looked at him, to be able to live in a world like that is it possible?

"Well, if I do manage to find a way back…I also need to find my clan" helping you pick up the dishes, he and you together washed the dishes- sure he did look dumbstruck, when he saw the ancient way as he called it when you sat down to wash dishes

"Man…I really appreciate modern technology now…thank god humans evolved...I cannot live like this...." sighing he did his best; though he broke one bowl but the guilty puppy eyes he gave you made you not say anything

Seeing him struggle you could not help but chuckle; soon everything came to an end, all the dishes were washed and it was time for bed- finally the day had come to an end after all the chaos you were exhausted

"I only have one futon so we will need to share, I never needed two so I never bought another one...is that okay with you?" taking out the futon and pillows you arranged them on the tatami wooden floor

"Well...I uh don't have any other choice do I? I am in no position to complain haha~" chuckling he laid down on the futon and you laid down beside him; blowing out the candles as the moonlight illuminated the room and braided your hair

"You said you were from the Gojo Clan I have never heard of it?" turning towards him, batting your eyes you gazed at him

"Well...our clan has existed since the Heian era"

"What...? that is amazing to survive till your time...more than a 1000 years"

"Yeah", smirking his azure eyes glistened under the moonlight, "It is, but I never cared....does not matter to me I just need to find the clan in this era...and find a way back"

"But...how will you convince them you are part of the clan?"

"No need to worry, just my ability is enough to convince them~ I am that great after all~"

"Huh....you mean their are more people with powers like you?"

"Oh dear you have no idea~ how vast the world truly is- it's beyond your wildest dreams"

"Really?....where is your clan though?"

"Well...that's the point I don't know; in the modern times it's in Tokyo, but...I don't know where Tokyo is in this era...hah.." sighing he looked you with tired eyes

You paused

"I am sure you will find it...." smiling you looked at him trying to cheer him up

"I hope so~ if not ahhhhh I don't know what I will do~ maybe become head of the clan in this era or something?" with a wink he sneered

"Y...you know how hard it is to become a clan head? people DIE trying to do so...?" your eyes widened in horror

"Darling~" leaning in lips inches apart "All the worries are unnecessary, Afterall I am the strongest~ just trust me dear!"

Link to my pinned post which has my master list and other links! in case you want to read more of my works!

[I have tried my best to look through historical maps of Japan in the Heian era and hence many details I use will be historical just like in my first chapter. From food to location to lifestyle~] And thank you so much for more than a 100 followers! I am so glad you all like my work! my asks are open in case you have any questions for me etc~ I will put out a short intro of myself! <3

[mad-voidling]

Character Ref/Info: The Peculiar Collector

(art done by my beloved partner!! you can find them at magpips on Instagram or magpip on Discord, they have commissions open rn so go follow them and commission them NOW!!)

Name: Idris Nightlocke/Mr. Trinkets

Pronouns: It/They

Species: Curator

Ambition: Heart's Desire (Ending: Power Truth)

Profession: Correspondent

Primary Attributes: Watchful, Bizarre, Artisan of the Red Science

Primary Quirks: Steadfast, Melancholy, Magnanimous

(More under cut)

Backstory:

A long time ago, far, far away from the Neath, a child was born to a criminal. Its memories of this time are few and indistinct, but it remembers one thing clearly - the stars. Bright and beautiful, a countless number speckling the dark world beyond the safety of its parent's hold. It was young, it was free, and it was happy.

Then, suddenly and without warning, there was cold. Before there had been an occasional chill, but it was protected by its fur and its parent's embrace. Now the freezing air and the pure white surrounding it was unrelenting, even its parent unable to protect it, them having gone still and the warmth quickly fading from them. Unsure of what else to do, the child wailed. It did not know how long passed before the light came, like its parent but not - large and soft and warm but not the same, could never be the same. It wanted to wail and scream and cry again but its throat was sore and its eyes dry so it remained silent as it was once again taken away.

Mr. Trinkets, though it was not called that then, was raised among the Masters of the Bazaar as their future colleague, though some contributed more to its care than others. There was an air of bitterness surrounding the child as it grew up - it was, after all, a child and not one theirs, but instead taking up the place of what should have been a fully grown Curator. Furthermore, the loss of one of their colleagues was still fresh, and its arrival was a salt in that wound.

None would grow to dislike it more than the Master that Londoners would come to know as Mr. Stones. It started early with Trinkets’ developing desire to collect knick knacks and baubles, the shinier the better. And what was shinier than items encrusted with precious gemstones? Thus their rivalry was born, though then one-sided and petty, for the child was too young to feel the same contempt. But after nearly a millennia its bitterness towards its older colleague grew alongside its size. Though now there was more to it than light thievery - jealousy, discontent, condescension, and unfairness to name a few - at its heart it was still petty, and that pettiness would lead to the breaking point.

The item itself was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, especially compared to what it would cause. But it lay within the overlap between Stones and Trinkets’ domains, both desired it, and it was the latter who was able to take it first. When next they met they of course argued over this, but as it went on it only got more heated. Out of patience, Trinkets turned to storm off, only to hear quick movement behind them, something pricking their shoulder-

Ego Mortis

Several days later, trapped up high in New Newgate, a newcomer to London would awaken with no memories of themself beyond a faint recollection of a star filled sky. It did not take them long to escape that place, but they left it without a name. It was only some time later that  they would decide on it in a flash of inspiration, fueled by the desperation of needing somewhere warm to shelter themself from the lacre covered streets:

Idris Nightlocke.

Canon Exceptional Stories

The Deadly Dapperlings: Happened fairly early on in Idris’ life, they were very early into their Ambition and had only recently started their lab/become a professor. They led their team to victory, but refused to let them become workers under Mr. Iron and have their dreams and passions be crushed

Cricket, Anyone?: Occurred much later, post-Ambition and while they were still actively help construct the railroad. Helped complete the sigil (they don’t have SotC 21 for nothing), learned Mr. Wines’ secret, and kept it for themselves. This is what happens when you entrust a near-stranger with a vital part of your plan

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

hello, your datamining posts are fascinating! i was wondering if you came across any info on the other thorm family members and exactly how they're related to each other?

Hi, and thank you! Glad you're enjoying the posts. Here's another excessively long one, because I love contemplating the disaster that is the Thorm family.

To start with, a quote from Isobel that isn't in the game anymore, from when you could have a conversation with her post-abduction and post-tadpoling:

I grew up in the village below here. A place built by Thorms, with aunties and uncles and cousins down every laneway.

So there was a whole lot of them. And it sure did rub some people wrong that the Thorms had the cushiest jobs around Reithwin. Sadly, on the matter of the Thorms' actual family tree, the answer is going to be disappointing, I'm afraid. I haven't found anything much about them that isn't in the game, and the game itself stays vague. (Bonus: writing this up when I've just gone through Act 2 in my honour mode run so this is nicely fresh in my mind.)

The Thorms are but collectors: collectors of coin, glory, blood, and more yet.

The only relationship that is explicitly defined is that Malus Thorm is Ketheric Thorm's uncle, as the head surgeon bemoans his displeasure with his nephew and the way he seems to favour now-openly-practicing necromancer Balthazar in the Tissue and Organ Register.

As for Thisobald, the one I, along with I imagine most other people, am most curious about - not much luck with EA stuff. A model for the "Brewer" shows up mid-2021, as seen in this datamining thread (note also the "Necromancer" who is very recognisably our gross ol' pal Balthazar). That's about it. There's files in the current game that explicitly describe him as Ketheric's son in the meta info bits, which have no reason to be untrue:

In Town in Act 2 we meet the Brewer that is son of Ketheric and shadow-curse mutated. This one is played when we defeat him. The brewer was once an ordinary person, but has been twisted by the shadowcurse and is now a huge, bloated monstrosity. He speaks in fragments, and is menacing but with an air of melancholy. He wants to drink until he forgets everything, and would like to bring everyone into oblivion with him.

As does he himself, beyond all those "Father Ketheric" references that I've seen explained as a potential title for a religious figurehead:

Son of Thorm. Sot of Sword Coast. I am Thorm. My father's tower grazed the new moon. Yours means zero, nothing, naught.

So yeah, a real head-scratcher, that one. Unacknowledged/mistreated bastard son before Melodia is something I've seen suggested, which might work. But then, he's very adamant and proud and pretty open about being a Thorm. If you choose to tell him about the owlbear mother as one of the tales to impress him, he only offers this:

[SUCCESS] Mothers. Commiserations. This place is my mother. Its teats are copper. Its milk is barrel-aged. [FAIL] We all have owlbear mothers. Mine was a lush. Unimpressive.

So was his mother an unnamed local drunkard, or is he speaking metaphorically again? Isobel, I am begging. Please explain.

What we do know is that they were all three alive and contemporaneous with Isobel's death and Ketheric's war (much love to the BG3 Wiki for having pretty much all of the in-game book/documents graciously transcribed, btw), and are in fact not ancient Thorms raised during Ketheric's Myrkul days and his "desecrating my family's mausoleum" phase, as I've seen theorised.

Gerringothe was banned from the Waning Moon (SHE KNOWS WHAT SHE DID). She was also in her secret logbook complaining about Ketheric's brewing war ruining her profits.

Malus is interesting - he has the big, extra-pointy elf ears (and so does Thisobald?) and he seems to be really old. Reithwin Necrology has him listed as the head surgeon in 986 DR, which is a little over 500 years before the events of the game take place, and so about 400 years before Ketheric's fall. Interestingly, the document lists the casualties of a battle between Dark Justiciars, Selûnites, and even a druid. I wonder if this might be a conflict taking place during the original Sharran occupation of Grymforge, which lasted for 800 years - and perhaps this is how Ketheric came to know of its existence. We also get to hear about some of Malus' atrocities thanks to sister Anna Lidwin, a tragic figure in her own right.

The Waning Moon: Consignments, written by Thisobald, is an extra spicy bit of text, talking about the entire family, and the way they operated before it all became an open conflict:

The ale she fed me was poisoned - and by my own hand! My truth serum was all too effective. I professed the lot: the poisoned drinks, Malus' 'treatments', the interrogations - all of it. She means to reveal our 'schemes' to the Baldur's Gate authorities. Unless, of course, I grace her palm with more gold than Gerringothe could muster. Father would have my head if he knew - or worse yet, donate me to Malus.

The document concludes with this very, very interesting bit:

The Harpers came too close - they poisoned Father Ketheric himself, yet he professes no ill effects. Malus insists it a fluke. Doctor he may be, but he is no less a fool for it: Father has achieved that of which I can only dream: immortality. I have long suspected. I can guess Father's purpose, but I cannot fathom the means.

If you beat all of the checks while drinking with Thisobald a century later, it turns out he did find out the means after all (and Ketheric was aware, threatening him into silence):

Player: What can you tell me about Ketheric? Thisobald Thorm: Father. Father is father. Eternal, invincible, forever, except not. Player: What do you mean? How can I defeat Ketheric? Thisobald Thorm: No, must not, can not, will not mention her. You want father's personal mysterious - (secret) - secret. No, not, never! Father said, ordered, commanded. Don't say it, don't say it! The cage. Her cage. Talk and… perish, die, buried. Buried in Thorm tomb. Father told me. I can't perish - no, nay, neither. Too strong, too…

After all, he does describe himself as a collector of "that which holds the most value: information".

Going back to Early Access, the quests leading to lifting the shadow curse evolved a lot, with one iteration being you needing to find "anchors" for the curse. Madeline (now of He-Who-Was quest fame) was a long-dead Harper and the sister of another Harper character called Callie you could meet. She died fighting Ketheric and, disillusioned with the Harpers as an organisation, hated that she'd inspired her sister to become a Harper too.

Madeline? But she died back in Ketheric's day. Madeline. Her name was Madeline. And she died fighting Ketheric with her last breath. But that's not enough is it? Madeline didn't want Callie to be a Harper. Nothing. What you saw was the truth. Madeline died hating the Harpers - and her darling sister Callie has no idea. Indeed. Madeline died realising she was just a name on a tally, and she hated the Harpers for it. Indeed. Madeline died hating both the Harpers and herself - for she led Callie down the same path.

She - or a keepsake of hers, her Harper pin - was one of the anchors for the shadow curse. You could also "witness her last moments" somehow, which I assume grew into the post-mortem "trial" we have in the game now.

The darkness emanating from that... it must be an anchor for the curse. What, I know not, but it torments this Harper. The memento is the key - the anchor. Do you have the fortitude to retrieve it? This Harper's soul is trapped in an endless cycle of pain, fear and regret. Her soul is trapped here - and a memento she gave you is doing it. If you give me that pin I'll put her soul to rest. I promise. But I don't know you. And I'm not gonna trust you with Madeline's Harper pin. So be a good egg, and bugger off.

It seems you'd do something like this several times. Isobel and Halsin were the main NPCs involved here - you'd find the anchors, and then presumably one of them would do something with them.

I've been studying the curse ever since, searching for answers. Trying to restore the damage my father has wrought upon this land. My life is devoted to unravelling the torment Ketheric inflicted on this land. So please, find the anchors, and bring them to me. I spent years researching the curse, trying to put an end to it. Nothing has worked - yet. The Shadowfell itself pours through this place, but there is no single portal or anchor. Ketheric was a brilliant general, but not a mage. He must have anchored this corruption and opened a path for Shar. This cursed land is ripe with grief and regret. Find the dead filled with such agony - find what anchors them here. The anchors would be infused with Shar's blessing, concealed where the curse of the Shadowfell is strongest. |Please do. For now, focus on finding the anchors, it's the only way we can understand the curse.| These are both anchors. Yet I believe there must be more. Bring back another anchor, and I will tell you.

You would progress after gathering all the anchors, and learn that you needed the "blood of a Thorm":

Yes! The anchors alone are not enough to end the curse. We need blood from the Thorm family line. That makes sense. A Thorm is the one who made it. How do I get the blood of a Thorm? By bleeding Ketheric. The rest of his family... is long dead.

I bring all of this up because at one point the anchors became the "Bones of Contention", and "the Thorms" were what was sustaining the curse. This is also where we get the full trio of "Distillery boss", "Hospital boss", and "Tollhouse boss", who you'd need to defeat to get the bones. A great writeup of this version of the quest, highlighting Halsin's part in it, can be found here in a post by @merrinla. And as you can see in the post we once again have Isobel on research duty. These are from Patch 6:

How do the Thorms sustain the shadows? [NEEDS FLAG]

Interestingly enough, that line survives to release, and is now answered by Thisobald during the drinking game with "the spirit of the land".

|Please do. Come back to me after the night, hopefully I'll be done researching the bones you brought me.| |We know about the bones and we know we need the blood of a Thorm...|

I also found these tidbits that seem to imply a "sacrifice Isobel" option was at least something that you could discuss in the game:

But you have all the bones. Can't we end the curse at Moonrise? Does that mean your death could end the curse? Perhaps. I fear my sacrifice alone may not be enough. / It's possible I may have to sacrifice myself. But this is my father's crime.

Funnily enough, behaviour scripts for Aylin and Isobel that are still in the game include references to the bones, such as:

[Nightsong] "Stand with Isobel while she's researching the Bones of Contention"

receivedBonesFlag = Flag([[SCL_ShadowCurse_Event_GiveBonesToIsobel_26c0ec08-561f-411f-9053-458341c6a7e9]]) finishedResearchFlag = Flag([[SCL_ShadowCurse_Event_BonesResearchProgressed_91936c5f-a3f6-741a-3f1f-ac956ee649f5]])

But I haven't found much beyond that.

And with that, I'll conclude this giant word soup. Hope it was at least slightly interesting!

[seriousbrat]

Well if you must known my admittedly biased opinion, I’ve always pictured Remus bedroom to be quite funky! Based on the decor he brings to his DADA classroom, he strikes me as a collector or cool things. I also read him as someone very creative with an artistic personality (based on the spells he taught Harry, which tap into emotions and imagination), and as a lonely isolated child, I like to think he covered the walls with little art projects. James’s bedroom would be a close second, but only because you painted a great picture - he struck me a bit as the wizard equivalent of kid with a bed shaped like a racing car before you brought up William Morris. Let’s say Remus has the bedroom I would like to have and James has the bedroom any kid would like to have.

Also for the first time ever you have given me a wrong answer! James cannot comment Quidditch matches because he’s in the team, which makes him either busy or biased (I should have specified this is a Hogwarts match). To answer this question you can swap him for Lily (who I think would be charming, but objectively bad at following the gameplays).

Now you gotta also give us the tour of Lily’s bedroom! Does she share it with Petunia?

Honestly I definitely see your point about Remus! And yeah I agree James would have something of a racing car bed vibes bedroom lol. The thing is his parents' taste in decor is immaculate but James is more of a stereotypical boy and just covers it in quidditch stuff lol. So you're right, personally I'd prefer Remus (or Lily's) bedroom but for a kid James's would be the coolest.

also lmao I've let you down!! I was trying to be objective about who would be the best skill-wise, obviously James can't commentate if he's playing 😭 honestly I don't think Sirius would want to commentate but he'd be a pretty droll commentator, he'd be quite funny. Absolutely biased and vicious in his remarks about the rival teams, but very clever and entertaining. So if I have to exclude James then I'll go Sirius. Podcaster vibes.

Okay Lily just has the cluttered quirky girl aesthetic that I really vibe with! I don't have her sharing with Petunia, luckily for them because that would be awful and they have VERY different ideas about decor. I see Lily's bedroom as small but bright, cheery, a bit messy but in a quirky girl way obv. It's full of witchy stuff like potion supplies, spellbooks, dried herbs, but also posters of artists like David Bowie and Brian Ferry and a record player+vinyl collection. Colourful quilted bedspread, window nook for reading and being melancholy. The family cat loves hanging out in there.

Let me just dump some Lily bedroom inspo!

[occasionaltouhou]

marisa has the songs Magician’s Melancholy and The Collector’s Melancholy Afternoon to her name. Is she, like, okay??

that's just how it is when you're a gay little freak who lives in the woods. sometimes you suffer from severe cases of melancholy afternoons

[ask-thearchivists]

the same phase? what do you mean by that?

(Full answer under the cut because this is long.)

The Charmer: Oh, you just had to mention that, did you? You know he'll bring it up anyways, he always does.

The Coordinator: Our faces represent different phases of the moon. In our society, to some people, but not all, certain phases are considered more desirable because they believe Collectors with those phases are collectively similar, with certain shared traits. Curator has a waxing crescent, the earliest phase, which means these people would perceive her to be immature and inexperienced, rude, and impatient. Cartographer has a waxing gibbous, the third phase, this is interpreted as being incomplete and listless, still not mature, and generally dealing with melancholy. I am the last quarter which is considered a disappointment and falling short of true greatness, not as wise and patient, falling short of expectations.

The Charmer: Yes. The most admired phases are the waning crescent and the full moon. Full moons and new moons are both very rare. New moons are the least desired phase because it's interpreted to mean being dull, dim, overshadowed, and blending in, never standing out. Full moons are considered a light in the dark, balanced, bright, cheerful. Waning crescents are desired as they are the oldest phase you can be, signaling wisdom, patience, grace, and other dumb shit like that.

The Curator: These ideals and theories are considered outdated, it's similar to how I mentioned, a long while ago, that some Collectors believe certain positions in the Grand Constellation are superior places to perform the Nova Spell. To get children with better traits or temperaments. This phase belief is related. There are theories that certain spots will guarantee a child with the preferred phase. None of us think any of that is real. It's sort of similar to how some societies believe which constellations are visible in the sky during your birth will influence who you are as a person.

The Cartographer: We think it's a bunch of nonsense. You could meet 100 people born at the same time as you and none of you will be the same. It has more to do with your genetics, and most crucially, your environment as you become an adult. 

The Coordinator: Like clay, where you come from determines what you look like, and as you age you are molded and refined. This is an imperfect metaphor because you will continue to change your whole life, unlike clay which can be fired into a permanent unchanging shape. But still, there are no other forces at play making you who you are.

[jaceblackheart]

They Moved In Shadow All Together By @emilyjanewhite-blog Released Via @talitres ( Talitres Records ) Added To The CD Collection

[namusthetic]

The Artist and The Writer

The Tiny Love Stories Series

Their love blossomed in the gentle quietness. In moments when they felt overwhelmed by the rush of sensations or dived too deep in their thoughts, forgetting to resurface for a breath, they sought each other's eyes, and the noise finally ebbed away.

They had grown weary of giving away pieces of themselves with each lover, so they became each other's muse.

Link to the full playlist here <3

----------------------

The Artist

"Why can't you see that?"

The Artist observed. Patterns and colors spoke clearly to them, like words never could. Their childlike curiosity had been so refreshing to the Writer—a breath of fresh air after all the molding and the dust that had settled during long hours of contemplation, shattering on the fractals of their mind. The Artist made them rediscover the beauty of simple pleasures, the magic of seeing things as they are. The Writer knew that, no matter how much they tried, no word could ever fully capture the Artist's beauty.

Playlist:

As It Was by Harry Styles

Someone New by Hozier

Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows

Hey Lover! By Wabie

Me Gustas Tu by Manu Chao

Black Friday by Tom Odell

As The World Falls Down by David Bowie

The Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx

Let The Light In by Lana del Rey ft. Father John Misty

The Writer

"You just don't understand."

The Writer's depth had ignited the Artist's fascination—a tranquil, opaque mirror nestled in a clearing deep within deep woods of the most vivid shade of green. Beneath its surface, wisps of light, flashes of distant storms boiled with fury. Rarely noticed by others, the Writer observed every detail keenly, a nostalgic aura of bittersweet melancholy surrounded them. The Artist spent hours sketching, attempting to capture the comforting warmth of the wisdom in their eyes.

Playlist:

Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery

Writer In The Dark by Lorde

Talk by Hozier

Wicked Game by Chris Isaac

Heart to Heart by Mac DeMarco

Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens

Those Eyes by New West

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths

We Are The People by Empire of the Sun

----------- 🎨🖋️

(there's a surprise below 🤫)

------- Tiny Side Story ------

The soft gold light of sunrise cast a warm patina across the surfaces; it was barely 5:42 in the morning. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and jam wafted through the small apartment. In the direction of the small kitchenette, the clinking of plates and cutlery could be heard.

"Did you stay up all night writing?" The writer turned to find the artist leaning on the doorframe, a smirk playing on their lips.

"I couldn't bring myself to stop; had to finish that chapter. I was about to go to sleep, just wanted to prepare breakfast for you first. I know you like to wake up early to paint, but you awoke before I could bring it to you."

"Let's have breakfast together then; you can go and sleep after."

"Is there any way I can convince you to come back to bed and cuddle for a bit before you disappear into your studio?" The writer raised their brows in question, their attention still on the slice of bread in their hands. The artist sniffed and turned their head, as if pondering: "I have a very strict schedule; I'll see if I can spare a moment for you."

"Much obliged," they exchanged smirks, a spark of affection evident in their eyes. The artist settled into a chair by the window, watching attentively.

"Did you put the jam on the whole slice?"

"Yep."

"On the borders too?"

"Yep."

[bengiyo]

Middleman's Love Ep 3 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Jade continued to miss that Mai has a crush on him. We learned that Mai is close to his mom and could have taken other opportunities besides this company. Jade is also so nosy, and got involved in their manager's relationship drama. We also learned that Jade and Mai make up stories in their heads. There was an office karaoke party where Gus shamelessly hit on Tong, Uea and King flirted while also being flabbergasted with Jade's obliviousness, and Uea confronted Mai about his crush. We left at Jade struggling to get a drunk Mai into bed.

Curious about Tong's reticence and Gus's determination. I kinda like them inverting the pursuer dynamic since they're likely pulling from Uea and King as inspiration.

Okay, Jade. I get that you are protecting Mai's honor, but I'd be okay with him undressing further.

I do love the show playing with Jade missing all of the signs about Mai.

Tutor is beautiful. My goodness.

You know. I really hoped that Jade wouldn't headbutt him.

Not them pulling out the whoosh effect on the toothbrush.

Jade, explain to me why you have smelly clothes hanging in the closet. Answer, quickly!!

Oh lord Jade is mad about the collector towel being used.

Oh hell no Jade is not about to eat expired food from the trash.

They are so awkward.

Oh, I see the mom tends to helicopter.

Feels kinda weird that they shaved Tutor's arms and torso but not his legs.

Jade giving advice on how to flirt to Mai has reached a ridiculous threshold for me.

Jade, you're so easily tricked by food!

Uea absolutely knows what's going on, and he's having fun trolling them.

King and Uea are thriving and I am having a good time.

I love Gus's shameless ass.

Okay, Jade briefly looked super lonely and melancholy. I hope we get back to that.

Jade definitely did not understand that Mai was talking about him there.

There's hints of something good in this all the time, but then they botch it with something silly. Ah well. At least everyone is pretty.

[feral-teeth]

Saltburn | The Bug Collector

and i digress...

#saltburnedit #saltburnfilm #jacobelordi #aesthetic #aestheticvideos #aestheticedits #melancholy #thebugcollector

#thebugcollectorhaleyheynderickx

[theboarsbride]

Writeblr Introduction📚

Hey, hi, howdy! The name's Josephine, but feel free to call me Jojo (pronouns are she/her), your local monster enthusiast and DILF Collector!

My art and writing updates I post a lot on my social media accounts, which are as follows:

Instagram: jojo.writing.art

Twitter: JojoPenguin_Art

TikTok: jojo.penguin.writes

Discord: Jojo the Rad Penguin#3942

Tumblr: my DMs and ask box are always open!💛

I am ALWAYS down for chatting with and meeting other writers, and engaging with others’ content!! The primary genres I work with are:

- Horror (in varying genres, but primarily Gothic) - Paranormal - Monster Romance (I'm aroace as hell, so expect all my romances to be pretty 'clean' - AKA no erotica to be found here!) - Historical Fiction - Light Fantasy

If any of these genres interest you, feel free to keep on reading about my WIPs below the cut! Now about my general writing style...

Most of the stories I write are inspired by two things: fairytales and horror. A majority of my WIPs are either directly inspired or loosely based on some fairytale, folklore, or myth, and most are part of some genre of horror, whether it be Gothic, psychological, folk, survival, or supernatural. Also a lot of my writing influence comes from authors like Angela Carter, Sarah Waters, Caitlin Starling, Shirley Jackson, and Robin McKinley.

A list of my WIPs are below the cut!

Ghosts Plague These Halls || Novel || Gothic Romance + Historical (1890s) + Paranormal + Gothic Horror + Fairytale Retelling (Beauty and the Beast + Eros and Psyche) || 3rd Draft Edits + My Main WIP

Comp: Crimson Peak + The Bloody Chamber + La Belle et la Bete/Panna a Netvor

Whitechapel, London 1894.  Sophie Wickes and her family struggle to survive, melancholy eats away at her father more and more with each passing day, and her passion for cultivating flowers procures no income. She must swallow her pride and set aside her hatred for England’s aristocracy when she’s offered a chance of employment by the reclusive Lord Edgar Cushing to tend the gardens of his Rosenthorne Hall. However, the estate, its gardens, and their master is nothing what Sophie expected. The house? Rotting, dilapidated, hideous. The gardens? The husk of something alive, whimsical, and beautiful. The master? Faceless, nothing more than a voice from the shadows. Despite her fear and anger, Sophie becomes enthralled by the garden’s potential for mystic, untainted beauty, and she develops a close friendship with Lord Cushing, even though he is nothing but a mere whisper of darkness that pleads for her to never seek him out. However, whatever enchantment the gardens and Lord Cushing’s voice bring her shatters as she begins to receive nightly visitations from a crooked-jawed phantom and butterflies who’s wings whisper of a bloody past and the truth behind the faceless lord's gentlemanly masquerade.

Temperance and Mr. Wyrm || Novella || Body Horror + (Monster) Romance + Drama + Magical Realism + Historical (1980s) + Fairytale Retelling (King Lindworm) || 2nd Draft edits

Comp: The Fly... but make it snakes.

In a loose (and bloody) retelling of the King Lindworm folktale set against the backdrop of 1980s Milwaukee, two people try to navigate their unorthodox romance while an arcane, snake-like infection afflicts, and starts to change, one of them. Temperance Cavell, a six-foot tall woman living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, lives a quiet, unexciting, and demure existence running a convenience store with her mother. But despite her mother's overbearing nature, the nonstop caring of her ailing grandmother, and her near-nonexistent social life, she cannot complain. This life is quiet, she’s (somewhat) in control, and nothing is unexpected… That is until Jack Turner, the motorcycle-riding kleptomaniac with a heart of gold, bursts into her store one Saturday afternoon, and between them a romance reluctantly blooms. But such love is swiftly threatened to shatter when Jack’s body begins to betray him, contorting him into something that is completely, and utterly, non-human.

The Bones We Haunt || Novella || Gothic Horror + Historical Fiction + Period Drama + Romance || 1st Draft + A.K.A the WIP inspired byJojo simping for Ciarán Hinds

Comp: Jane Eyre + Bluebeard's Bride + The Death of Jane Lawrence + Mexican Gothic

November, 1899. While on holiday in Cambridge and attending museum lectures with her mother, Jane Sterling seeks to make this her chance to officially pursue her love of paleontology. While her family encourages the pursuit of passions and challenging rigid social norms, the institutes in place hinder her passion, making her resort to dressing brightly and speaking loudly for attention. Jane's chance comes to reveal itself in the form of the wealthy and reclusive Sir Terence Hayes, who’s come in search for her father, the esteemed paleobotonist Dr. Samson Sterling, to appraise fossils found in his garden. Her mother eagerly volunteers Jane to go in Dr. Sterling’s place as he remains ill in America, and Terence brings her to his isolated family's estate in the vast, deep, muddy marshes of Wolf’s Run. And the land is shrouded in urban legends. There are whispers of 'The Wolf's Run Beast,' the 'Monster of the Marshes,' that haunts the land under the cover of night, and as Terence leaves Jane to her work he is hell-bent that she's to return to Cambridge before nightfall. However, freak storms rage, causing the marshes' waters to rise and wash out the roads in flash floods before Jane has a chance to return, leaving her stranded at Wolf’s Run - and at the mercy of all that lurks there. As night looms, the staff hastily depart, an eerie silence falls, Terence forbids her from even coming near the cellar, and, most importantly, he warns her against leaving her room before dawn. All is merely a strange act to Jane, brushing it off as the eccentricities of an Englishman, until something comes scratching at her door, hungering for her blood. What started as a mere chance at becoming known swiftly becomes a tumultuous game of blood, teeth, survival, love, and salvation - and Jane must prepare to sharpen teeth of her own if she's to survive the horrors of the Wolf's Run marshes.

Upon Her Bloody Horn || Novel || Dark Fantasy + Political Fantasy + Romance || 1st Draft (incomplete) + A.K.A. The WIP inspired by Jojo simping for Crispin Glover

Comp: The Last Unicorn meets Legend (1985) meets Elizabethan history

A unicorn takes on a human disguise to enact revenge against those who have hunted her kind to extinction, only to find herself caught in the middle of bloody kingdom politics and allured by the one-eyed hunter with whom she has a violent history with.

She Wears the Face of a Polar Bear || Novella || Psychological Horror + Historical Horror + Survival Horror + Arctic Gothic || Developing (A.K.A the WIP inspired by Jojo simping for Ciarán Hinds as Sir John Franklin in AMC's The Terror)

Comp: The Terror meets Crimson Peak

Whilst trapped in the deadly ices of the Arctic, a British naval captain heading an expedition is haunted by visions of his wife, only she's the head of a great white bear and comes to be his greatest nightmare - and she hungers for his fear.

Dragon-Plague || Novel || Medieval Horror/Fantasy + Adventure + Body Horror || First Draft + NaNoWriMo 2024 Project

Comp: Bloodborne + Blasphemous + DnD + Between Two Fires

A plague doctor, a gentle ex-knight, a runaway lady, and a thieving nun cross a land ravaged by a devastating disease that turns people into uncanny dragon-human hybrids to find, and destroy, the origins of the arcane plague.

Those Red Nights || Novel || Crime thriller + Psychological Horror + Neo-Noir + Urban Fantasy + Werewolf Horror + Historical (1990s) + Fairytale Retelling (Little Red Riding Hood) || On Hiatus + A.K.A. the WIP inspired by Jojo simping for Bob Odenkirk

Comp: The Silence of the Lambs + Se7en + Gargoyles

Selene Radcliffe is a young freshly-graduated detective, having spent long hours and many sleepless nights researching, studying, and looking through cold case files in an effort to prove herself as skilled of a private investigator as her late father, the renowned and well-respected Det. Arthur Radcliffe. However, she is a woman in a predominately male profession, a woman without a voice–literally and figuratively–and she wants to make a name for herself without relying on whatever legacy her father left behind. When the presence of a serial killer who the media has named “The Big Bad Wolf” on account of the strange, animalistic nature of his murders that occur on the nights of a full moon begin to plague the streets of Milwaukee, Selene sees this as her opportunity to prove herself and her skills to her peers, and she tasks herself and her partner Det. Apollo Esposito to hunt him down.  But it swiftly becomes apparent that the man they are hunting is no man, and may instead be a dreaded creature of folklore–one that is now keen on hunting them down in a blood-red game of cat and mouse…

The Faeries and the Lark || Novel || Dark/Gothic High Fantasy + Sapphic + Adventure + Fairytale/Folklore Retelling (East of the Sun, West of the Moon + Sleeping Beauty + Scandinavian Folklore) || Development + On-Hiatus

Loosely based on the fairytales Sleeping Beauty and East of the Sun, West of the Moon, as well as Scandinavian folklore, The Faeries and The Lark follows three faeries–spirits of nature–raising a human child they’ve named Lark, the princess of a sun-worshipping kingdom wiped out by a subterranean society of trolls. The faeries devote their lives to protecting Lark from the worlds of man by raising her to believe she’s one of the fae, and to keep her deep in the forest so that she can remain hidden from the trolls that restlessly hunt for the princess that escaped their massacre. But everything the three faeries worked hard for is put to the test when Lark encounters a human named Sigrid, the toughened, sword-wielding chancellor’s daughter from a neighboring moon-worshipping kingdom that’s threatened to be swallowed by the fairies’ forest, and every aspect of her life as she’d known them threaten to crumble around her.

And these are my WIPs!!!!! I hope one of some of them have caught your eye, and that you stick around to see where these all go!! To know more about some of these WIPs, I've their tags down below!

Thanks so much for reading!!💛🐧