#gothic romance AU

[ararebloom]

alicent x larys | gothic romance au

19th century. lady alicent hightower is arranged to marry lord larys strong, newly-made heir to harrenhal castle following the mysterious deaths of his father and elder brother. dark stories surround her strange new husband and his cursed ancestral home.

[pipitwrites]

two steps on the water

sebchal, explicit, 6.2k. a gothic romance for @sunshinesebby :>

When Charles Leclerc, a young junior architect from Paris, is invited to Lord Vettel's estate for the project that could possibly make his career, he is wholly unprepared for what awaited him within Maranello's mysterious walls. --- Despite the heavy grey mist of twilight, Charles could make out the riotous brambled fields stretching out beyond the heavy wrought iron gate which parted to let the carriage through. The horses leaped forward and Charles settled back heavily into his seat in surprise. He soon found himself at the window again, watching with apprehension as they drew closer and closer to a line of tall trees breaking through a crumbling wall that curved along with the winding road that led finally to an imposing stone edifice, formed around two rounded towers, one of which had evidently seen better days, half of its roof bare and open to the sky. Even that detail though lent a romantic quality to the scene. Maranello!

[adiduck]

would you write more icemav on the horizon? or is the focus elsewhere for now?

Oh I am actively writing multiple IceMavs as we speak FJKLFJAL;FAJF;LAJ I have... uh. seven? fics that I am currently actively working on. I just got a little stalled out on some of them and needed to give some thought to the plot and/or structure and needed to hit word count for NaNo, and... well. My good friend Serie was like ‘pspspspsps hey Adi come look at this quick and easy crossover, knock out some wordcount’ and I was like say less LOL

Anyway, I also made a HUGE amount of progress on what I call the Retirement AU (Ice lives, Mav gets pretty beat up over the events of TGM, they end up living together in Ice’s house to recover from their various ailments and finally get around to talking about how they’ve been in love for decades - currently approaching 30k) and Soulmate AU 2 (7.7k atm) over NaNo. I also started plotting out an, uh, IceMav gothic romance. I like ghosts okay it’s not my fault. I’m making steady progress! More soon <3

[verlaineszz]

hi!! Can you write a yandere ghost dazai x human fem reader fic?

A/N: of course!! (✦ ‿ ✦) I've been actually meaning to write a ghost dazai but a yandere? Oohhhhh sounds great! :D, thanks for submitting this lovely request of yours anon(≧▽≦)!

YOUR SILHOUETTE A PALE MIST, BURY ME IN YOUR KISS!

ᯓ ⁺₊ ๋࣭ ⭑♡— YANDERE! GHOST! Dazai X HUMAN FEM! Reader!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ SUMMARY: Nearby a forest, there was a 1862 Victorian Mansion that still had strong walls and doors that stood strong against winds and storms. But there was something weird about the home, the past owners of the home were either found dead or moved out for good after just a week.

It was rumoured that it was haunted by a vengeful spirit, but no one dared to banish it or call in a priest.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ☠︎︎— HORROR + ANGST + SUGGESTIVE(?) + FLUFF

A/N: FINALLY A NORMAL REQUEST!! anyway, this fanfic may be abit long but apologies since you never really specified your preference for the fic but I'll try!! :D i haven't written yandere in a year so let's see what i can do. （＾ω＾）

𓂃 ࣪˖ ༒︎— WARNINGS : Blood, Death, Suggestive (?) , cursing, SLIGHT(???) GORE

You were currently moving in the old 1862 Victorian Mansion that was rumored to be haunted, obviously it was sold pretty cheap through the online site and the decor of it was absolutely marvelous, which made you not even care if it was haunted or not.. It was so cheap and so beautiful that how could you not buy it?..

The boxes of your things are already in your home and all you have to do is to unpack. You started unpacking and moving things around.

During your little unpacking session, you were gonna walk up the stairs but notice that there was this portrait shape that was covered with a red cloth that wasn't shown in the pictures online, you put the boxes down and decided to remove the cloth. When you slowly slipped the red cloth off the big portrait, there showed a man wearing a white jabot, blue and gold coat and a soft smile. This made you take a step back and look up and down to analyze the painting, the painting of the ridiculously attractive man.. Weird as hell!

You scoff and turn around to continue unpacking your things, but the second you turned around, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You ignored the feeling and continue unpacking.

While you were unpacking, dazai— the phantom of the house that is the original owner of the home was watching you, it was new to him.. A female unmarried tenant? This might be his best bet to scare the living shit of you, since he hasn't gotten a female tenant yet.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The unpacking was done and you were visibly tired, immediately crashing on the red floral patterned couch that was in the living room. The whole place looked old but aesthetically pleasing. There was a fireplace, a grand piano, a grandfather clock, bookshelf and a coffee table with a wood vase of belledonna. You sigu and cross your legs, tilting your headback, this scene wasn't unnoticed by the ghost of dazai osamu. He was watching you with curious intent, he was sure that he'd have you dead or gone in no time since he never liked anybody living in his home. But since you were.. Really pretty.. Why not toy with you for a bit before placing your life in a casket?

During the first night, you were there on the bed in your new room, scrolling on your phone before looking at the time, it was 9:56 pm..you gotta take a shower before going to bed since you had work tomorrow. You stood up and removed your clothing before grabbing a robe and entering the bathroom, you turn the water on and began showering, as you showered, you still felt a creep run down your spine, as if you were being watched.

In dazai point of view, he was staring at your bare face, he smirked and checked you up and down.. Seeing your hips, thighs, waist.. And... He chuckled silently, seeing you showering without a clue that you were being watched, he quickly left and decided to give you some privacy.

After showering, you slid into a thin night gown before laying down on the canopy bed and scrolling on your phone, but as you laid down it felt strangely cold, the windows were closed so how could this be cold? You wondered before the bedside lights started ti flicker, but you quickly dismissed it as old house quirks— "must be some random Victorian magic or something.." you mutter before you continue scrolling on your phone, dazai continued to observe you in the shadows, sometimes moving places from time to time to look like shadows were moving which you unfortunately did not notice.

He pouted as he noticed that you didn't see the subtle appearances he did before planning of a way to get a reaction out of you.

You put down your phone and decided to sleep, it was now 10:23 and you really needed sleep. You stare at the canopy beds ceiling before slowly closing your eyes, your chest rising up and down slowly, a sight that dazai found warm. He stared at you with a grin as the moonlight through the window shined upon your body.

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧+

When you woke up, you felt like a hand was playing with you hair.. You immediately sat up straight and looked around, feeling spooked before taking a deep breath and getting out of bed to get ready to go to work then meet up with your boyfriend.

Whem you left, dazai stayed there, thinking about how to scare you even more, so when you left, he rearranged some of the stuff in yours house, small mischievous giggles came out of his mouth while doing so.

A few hours later.. The second you arrive back home and bring in your boyfriend, dazais expression from afar turned im disgust, obviously he didn't like other men in his house, especially when the man was with you when he just got a pretty lady in his humble abode!

your boyfriend wasn't really the most supportive person in the world or nicest.. He was just there, you didn't even know how you and him managed to get together when the whole relationship only felt one sided.

"This place looks.. Err.. Old.. You like this shit?" your boyfriend asked with a unimpressed look.

This left dazai pissed since he wasn't only in his house and taking you away from him but he was also insulting your choice in houses..

You and your boyfriend walked up the stairs to your room for some alone time, he sat there on your bed in a reckless way, he just laid there like he owned the place. He scrolled on his phone as you sit beside him on the right side of the bed and hug his arm, your boyfriend clearly couldn't care less which made dazai grumble silently in the corner of darkness.

You and your boyfriend were.. "cuddling" on your bed as he scrolled on his phone, probably lookin at other women before dazai got fed up and whispered something in his left ear to scare him— "get out, you scum."

Your boyfriends eyes widens a little, looking at you with a pretty annoyed look, "did you just call me something?.." he looked at you, visibly pissed, pushing your arm away from him. "What?? I didn't?" you replied back with an innocent look, dazai watched the scene, not wanting to resort to something else to not scare you away from him, he looks at your innocent face, though he can see you, both of you amd your boyfriend couldn’t see him.

"yeah right." your boyfriend scoffed, moving you away from him before he continue scrolling back on his phone, dazai clearly picked up that your boyfriend did not get the memo.

A few minutes later, your boyfriend stands up, eyes glued to his phone— "im gonna go find the bathroom."

When he found the bathroom, he did his business and started to wash his hands, The bathroom had a bathtub with gold stands, a small chandelier, a mirror, a silver faucet and a white and gold marbled sink, on the sink was some soap and a razors. The lights started suddenly flickering, your boyfriend scoffed in Annoyance. "why the hell did that bitch buy such a shabby old house..?!" he muttered while washing his hands before met with a cold feeling behind him, he ignored the feeling but it was obviously lingering. His eyes were just on his hands as he washed and washed and washed, he kept coating his hands with soap as he continue rubbing violently, the lights started flickering more frantically. "fuck"

A whisper was heard from behind your boyfriends back, "off", your boyfriend gulps as he washed his hands more violently, he couldn't move. He couldn't look up. He didn't wanna look at the mirror infront of him to see what was behind. "scum."

Your boyfriends eyes widens as he started to shake, he felt a hand wrap around his throat tightly, he looked up and saw nothing behind him but he felt something wrapped around his neck that was choking him. He coughed and coughed but when he looked down back to the running water and his hands, his hands were bleeding. Most of his hands skin was torn off, he looked at what he was holding and it was the blades. He hasn't been washing his hands the whole time.. He was getting cut.

He immediately sprinted out the bathroom, leaving the water and light on. You heard the opening of door bang againts the wall, you stood up from your bed and looked outside your room, by the time you went ouside your room, you saw your boyfriend sprint out of your house. "Hey! Wait! Where are you going!!" you yelled with a concerned tone, but when you yelled it, he was already gone. Your eyebrows furrowed in disappointment, your shoulders slumped, not understanding why he just left all of the sudden.

Dazai on the other hand was overjoyed. He even turned the sink and lights off for you to not waste water and electricity. Ah.. Only if you knew what he did.. He just saved you from your little toxic relationship, he really wanted to hear your voice praise him.

The day after that, you tried texting your boyfriend to only be met with blocked profiles and one messags, "we're done."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

The haunting within your home escalates, multiple of your things was dissappearing or either misplaced somewhere.. There were nights where you'd be on your phone scrolling while comfortably laid down on your bed where you could hear whispers. It was either your name or threats— "Get out." - "[Your name], [Your name]"

It was a smooth deep voice that whispered subtly in your ear that gave you chills running down your spine, this honestly frightened you but you already paid full and moved all your stuff in so there was no way a little ghost or hallucination was gonna make you move out! Especially since this might've been the reasom why your son of a bitch boyfriend broke up with you, so.. why not keep the house?

The more you didn't budge through dazais antics, the more you pique dazais interest and attraction. You laid there on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you felt the vacant part of your bed get cold. You sigh— "does it always get cold whenever im not around?.." you mutter, still quite sad from the newly break up text before going back on your phone, suddenly one of your coats that was hung on the coat hanger on the side of room fell, you sigh in Annoyance and stood up, putting it back before you were met with a hand caressing your waist, "eek!" you squeeled before turning around to be met with.. Nothing.

You immediately ran back to your bed, hiding under the covers and forcing yourself to sleep, you stayed under the blankets, eye open and thinking about the situation. You're very sure now that it wasn't hallucinations and there really was something in your home, but the hand.. It felt human. It was cold but soft and gentle, not like the hands of your ex boyfriend.. You thought about more of the relationship between you and your boyfriend and realize that he never actually exchanged touches with you.. You were the one always handing it out but he never gave it back, this made your stomach hurl and you slowly slipped the blanket off of your upper body for air.. You stared at the canopy beds ceiling and tears left your eyes, "that bastard.." you mutter as you cried, you suddenly covered your face with your hands and groaned, turning to your side and cried in anger and sorrows.

The same gentle hands were on your waist, the hands that caressed you with deep devotion that you've never experienced before.. This is what you craved for.. You turn around and see nothing, you look around and you sit up, the room was dimly lit by the moonlight, casting a silvery glow over the old furniture. You wipe your tears before hearing a deep suave voice— "Don't cry now, bella.. Don't let tears stain your pretty face."

You feel your breath bunch up in your throat, "who are you?.." you mutter, trying to hide your fear.

"mm.. Nobody." dazai replies back, his voice was everywhere.. You couldn't tell where it was coming from.. If it was from left, right, front or from behind, the non visible hand on your waist slowly went down, giving a small squeeze to your hips before you woke up.

The sun was raised high as you looked at your window, you sit up and rub your eyes.. Was it all just a dream? Why did it felt so real? And why did you crave more of those little touches?..

The little touches that dazai gave you was subtle but full of devotion, he didn't even know that he would become so intrigued by you this quickly that he wanted to watch your every single move. He looked at you staring at nothing, perhaps you were in deep thought in his eyes..

He loved the way your lips would turn into a smile, he loved how your brows would furrow, he loved the way you breathed, the way you talked, the way you move, it was all fascinating to him.. He has been alone and lonely in the Victorian Mansion without any suitors..and you were visibly his type.

You started off you day with breakfast then taking a shower, you take off your clothes and looked at the mirror before hanging your towel, just when you were gonna turn around, you see a figure with brunette hair with their elbow on the sink edge and resting their face against their palm in a flash, you look back but nothing was there. You shrugged it off and continue to take a shower.

After showering and getting ready, you researched about the mansion and learned that there was an earl who used to own it but unfortunately died due to a murder, his name was dazai osamu, he was known to be popular amongst the ladies back in the 1860's before he died in 1872. You checked the pictures of him and it was exactly like the portrait by the stairs..

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Every single night became intimate, you always saw him in your dreams and you always felt like you were getting watched.. Which turned invasive, dazai just wanted every part of you.

Night after night, he always gave you touch without showing hisself, but you already knew what he looked like through the painting.. But what made you feel guilty was that you couldn't touch him back, though his touches were random at night, it still gave you chills.

You lay calmly on your bed, you stare at the canopy beds ceiling as the nonvisible hand moves the hair out of your face, this was weird.. And you knew you needed to end it some way somehow.

Dazais feelings of making you stray away or die were now completely gone, he just wanted you by his side. He wanted you to be his.

You move to your side and look up, only to be met with a young man with brunette hair, brown eyes and a gentle smile. Your eyes widens and you look at him, was this really him?.. He grins and he caresses your cheek, "Do you enjoy my company, bella?" he asked in a soft suave tone, your eyes quickly relaxes as you slightly blush— "i guess so."

RING! RING! RING! Aw.. It was your stupid alarm, you open your eyes and look to the side to be met with nothing.. This was the first time you genuinely saw his face up close in real life.. You sigh and get ready for your day to go back to work.

You get ready and go down the stairs, trying to find your keys.

Dazai on the other hand, was holding your keys, he didn't want you Going anywhere. You looked and looked and looked.. But to no avail, nothing. Your workplace was pretty far and since you were near the woods, little to no cabs were around so you decided to call in sick. You began undressing, removing your work clothes and slipping into something more comfortable...

Dazais plans were to stop you from leaving the house in every single possible way. Night falls dark and the moon had risen up, leaving a pale glow outside, you were currently trying to think of what houses would be possible to stay in to finally escape the ghost who played games with you but as you were thinking on your bed, you went on your laptop and you scrolled on homes that were available, while you were scrolling, the laptop immediately closed as a hand wrapped around your waist, feeling a cold aura behind you. "what were you looking at bella?" he rests his chin on your shoulder, you sat there frozen before turning to him and being met with his pretty face.. His pale skin and brunette hair was a criminal combination, his face was so close to yours as he hugged you tightly from behind.

"..." you couldn't muster up a sentence.. "You aren't thinking about leaving me.. Are you [Your name]?.." he looked at you with pretty eyes.

"i.. Was just looking at houses." you replied back with a half life half truth statement. Dazai clinged onto you, it felt oddly comforting.. "You know im just here to protect you, Right? I'll treat you waaay better than that little ex of yours, my dear." he whispered in your ear in a possesive tone, blush crept up to your cheeks as he held you tightly, you looked at him and his gaze fell onto your lips, he examined your pretty face, though he was dead, he felt oddly giddy because he gets to hold you while your pretty face was close to his.

"You'll stay with me, got it? You're mine and no one else's."

⁺‧₊˚ஓ༻𓆩♡𓆪༺ஓ˚₊‧⁺

Dazais desire to be with you turned insanely strong, so strong that be believed in something obsessive, every day he'd find ways to try and painlessly take your life without even realizing it, you already knew. You walked around the halls in your home knowing that at any second, the ghost who haunted you could come and just swoop you, you were confused why he wanted to kill you? You thought he loved you.. So why did he want to kill you?

You decided to confront him about it. As soon as it hit nightfall, you laid down on your bed and waited for his presence to immerge since his energy was stronger during night, as you feel his soft cold hands touch you waist, you grab his hand and turn to him, "What the hell have you been trying to do..!?" you ask in an angered confused tone.

He looks at you with slightly wide eyes before reverting back to normal, "oh whatever do you mean bella?" he tried to play it off.

"Why have you been trying to kill me!?"

"... I love you okay? I'm doing all of this for you." he said sternly, holding your hand softly and kissing peppering it with kisses.

Eventually the two of you broke out into a fight, though he tried to explain hisself, he really didn't wanna fight you. He just wanted you to understand that all he has done was for you. And he wanted for you to understand.

He gripping onto your waist, burying his face on the nape of your neck, his expression soft but disappointed..

"you really dont understand, don't you? I love you. And i'll do anything just to have you as mine."

His tone was low but it gave a hint of obsession.

"Please. Just dont go.. I- i can't keep being alone in this place. You're all i have." he muttered, his voice slightly whiny but full of sorrows as he held you tighter.

You felt awful, he loved you like no other and treated you better than anyone of your exes, though he was dead, he would love to kiss your lips again and again.

He held onto you tightly as you kept quiet, sighing before replying back— "If you keep this up, I'll move out. I'm serious."

Dazais eyes widens and the words that left your lips broke him since his body was buried under his house, his soul couldn't leave the mansion whatsoever, "Please! I can't lose you. Not now, not ever! Please! Give me a chance!" he gripped onto your clothing, "i love you more than my own existence, you're the only thing keeping me feel alive again and sane in this place, this place feels like an asylum! Don't.. Go." his voice cracked as he pleaded for you, tears was already beaded on his tear ducts, he didn't want you to go, he felt lost like some puppy, he just wanted you to stay with him, eternally.

He was so obsessed that he wanted to bind your soul with his so you could be his, together and forever in the afterlife.

A/N: originally, i was planning to make dazai kill reader but today i wanted to leave a cliffhanger. Thank you for reading and i really enjoyed this request!! :D I'll try to get into more yandere themes so i could do better in the future, thanks again anon for this lovely request of yours （＾ω＾）

© All works by @Verlaineszz. Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.

[the-cloudy-dreamer]

“And here we are! Mister Gadling if I may introduce you to the owner of this estate, Lord Morpheus Endelas?'' The portrait of a severe looking man hangs at the top of the staircase, with an ornate golden frame. It is the only thing occupying that wall. 

It looks lonely. 

“Lord Morpheus? So, if he is the owner of this estate, why is his sister the one rushing to sell it? Where is he?” Hob asks, confused.  

“Nobody really knows. He was quite the renowned painter at the time but went missing at the peak of his career months after his only son died in a tragic accident,” Mister Edwards explains. 

Hob’s heart clenches in sympathy, as if to lose one’s child seems horrible enough, but to be expected to carry on after such a loss seems unthinkable to him.

“Hold on, missing? Missing implies that he is still out there! Doesn't he get a say in what happens to his state? He could come back and rightfully unleash his wrath upon us for going through with this! Sir, you have to understand that if I am to take up this job offer I need to know I’m not risking my entire career and reputation over it.”

He feels perplexed “Wasn't anyone else concerned about this? How is picking apart a missing man’s home and selling all his worldly possessions to the highest bidder even considered acceptable? What was the Endelas family even thinking? The man lost his only child, surely he just needed some time away?” It didn't seem unreasonable to Hob. 

He didn’t like it. Something about this felt wrong.

“It is believed even by his own remaining family, that Lord Endelas killed himself. Saying he is missing is the polite way to not address the fact that no body was ever found! Even before his son’s death he was infamous for his melancholic moods and tendencies towards neglecting himself to the point of damaging his own health significantly. So I’m hardly asking you to do anything immoral here! You are a good man Mister Gadling, and if the thought of taking this job distresses you so much I will accept that and find someone else to do it, but Lady Endelas wants this to be done sooner rather than later and I think you are the best choice for it.”

Hob turns his attention back to the portrait and contemplates for a moment.

He truly did look lonely up there.

“I will give you my answer tomorrow morning, Mister Edwards,” he concludes. 

“That’s all I ask for Mister Gadling, for you to consider it. Thank you.” Edwards inclines his head and promptly turns around, heading back downstairs.

Hob looks helplessly at the portrait of Lord Morpheus, already knowing he will take the job come morning. 

Damn him and his bleeding heart.

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

Ta-dah! illustration that's part of my gothic romance dreamling AU for @dreamlingnation spooky event !! the prompt that inspired this was "cursed painting" the comic pages for the ficlet above are already in the works so stay tuned for that and more!

special thanks to @academicblorbo for helping me edit this, you are the best friend!

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Harringroveson Bones and All

For @now-showing-at-the-hawk-events Day 7 (and technically 9) Romance Movie/Horror Movie, Bones and All (2022)

Billy Hargrove always knew he was different from most people. His father never let him forget it. There was something *wrong* with him. Something he couldn't control. Billy was nine when he realized why his father looked at him like he was a monster.

It was a boy on his little league team. Joey Sandavol. They were walking home together when the other boy fell on the sidewalk and scraped his knee. Billy could smell the blood before he saw it. He watched the boy wince as he brought his leg up to his chest with a pained groan. That's when he felt it. An overwhelming hunger. Billy couldn't stop himself, his body lunging at the other boy as he buried his teeth in Joey's leg. He screamed, but Billy didn't care as he ripped into flesh and pulled. Blood was everywhere as things began to blur.

When he came to again, Billy was home. He sat on the couch in the living room as he heard his parents arguing in the kitchen. Looking down, Billy saw he was still covered in blood.

"-Neil, please, it's not his fault. He didn't know better!"

"Know better? Damn it, Cheryl, he almost killed that kid!" The sound of a fist hitting the wall made Billy instinctively jump. "God fucking damnit, if I'd known what you were, I would've never married you."

The fight devolved into screaming as Billy retreated into the bathroom and locked himself in, crying as he tried to wash the blood away. He was confused more than anything, but his mother disappeared into the night before he could ask any questions. He tried asking Neil questions about that day but stopped after the man backhanded him, telling him never to mention it again. For seven years, Billy was a normal boy again despite the constant hunger he felt. Then he met Duncan Wilson.

Duncan was funny. He always found a way to make Billy laugh, even on the bad days. When he asked to come over for a "study session," Billy was more than happy to agree. His father left with Susan for night which meant they had the house to themselves. Duncan made it easy to forget about his shitty dad and his shitty new wife as they kissed each other on Billy's mattress. The blonde's eyes were closed as the boy on top of him pressed closer to him when it hit him. The smell. God, the smell. A hunger stirred in Billy, and he felt it. The same feeling from years ago overwhelmed him as the kissing stopped when Billy bit into the other boy's lip.

Duncan screamed. The bite was hard enough to draw blood, only inciting the hunger more as things began to blur together. He remembered all of the blood. His teeth were tearing into flesh as the hunger was satiated for the first time in years. The bliss was overwhelming until he was snapped out of the trance by a new voice screaming at him. Billy's eyes focused again to see the bloody mess of viscera left on the floor. Looking up, he saw Max standing in the doorway. She was the one screaming. He'd completely forgotten about her.

It was a struggle, but Billy managed to stop himself from attacking his stepsister. Instead, he jumped out a window and began to run. Away from his family. His home. Himself.

That was almost a year ago, and Billy was still running. State to state, town to town, he ran away from everything. At eighteen years old, Billy had no goals except for making sure that his father couldn't find him. Billy knew if Neil Hargrove found him again, he would kill him. For his part, Billy thought he was doing a pretty good job of running, considering he was now in the middle of Bumfuck, Indiana. It was a small dive bar called "The Hideout." He was dressed in black skinny jeans and a loose fitting tank top. Easy bait for some creep to start hitting on him. The guy would ask to go to his car. And like that, Billy would get a meal and a ride to wherever the hell came next.

"Hey." A voice called out as they took a seat next to Billy at the bar top. "You're new here." The blonde turned, ready to up the charm when it hit him. The stranger didn't smell like everyone else. Billy blinked as he looked the man over. He seemed to be around the same age as the teen. The man's long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, showing off a band t-shirt that read Corroded Coffin. "The name's Eddie." He stuck a hand out. Billy was hesitant to take it.

"You're....like me." Was all that could come out.

"Sure am." Eddie grinned as he put the hand down. "Let me guess, you've never met anyone else like you."

"...ugh, yeah." Billy watched as an excited look crossed Eddie's face.

"That's fine. Just means you have a lot to learn." Eddie turned his barstool around to point at the dance floor. Specifically, another boy. He was dancing with an older balding man who looked almost completely wasted. "That's Steve. We come here to hunt every couple of weeks. Easy prey. We bring them back to his place for easy cleanup. Saves us having to move around all the time. Maybe you'd be interested." Eddie said as he leaned closer to Billy. "You look tired. We can help make things a lot easier for you, stranger." Billy made a face, thinking for a moment before speaking

"Billy."

"Hm?"

"My name's Billy."

"Well, Billy, how'd you like a free dinner?" Eddie asked as Billy's stomach growled, almost on cue. That...sounded nice...

[spicywreck]

honestly I just wanna read fem!Daniel fic so I have 4k definition on Louis' mommy issues and his spiraling instability with motherly figures.

(Also fem!Daniel pegging Armand but that's neither here nor there)

[dread-red-queen]

🚫 Do Not Re-Upload/Edit My Shots/Art Without My Permission🚫

Portraits from my Vampire AU - DARK TOWER

[soot-and-salt]

Lucifer's wedding ring is missing.

When did he last take it off? At his work bench? Washing his hands? Ah, wait, no, wasn't it when he barged into Alastor's room and healed that weirdo's festering angelic wound?

Time to sneak back into the lair of the Radio Demon to go get it.

Alastor probably won't mind, right...?

(A continuation of my gothic horror/romance radioapple stories Be It Ever So Humble and A Taste Of The Divine, now a series!)

This was so many words. Why was this so many words? I don't even know this many words.

[lyrebirdswrites]

Now presenting chapter 5 of Slaughterhouse! Yuuji is BACK and he's about to change Megumi's life. I've been looking forward to sharing this one, I hope you guys enjoy it <3

(if you're not caught up, you can start from the beginning here)

[realmothchu]

gothic romance au where Luke is the mysterious and haunted love interest with a Dark Past™️ and Din as the world weary traveler who gets swept up in Luke’s supernaturalness

[marxalittle]

More terror from the depths of my notes app (ie, story ideas half-framed and hardly fleshed out, growing more deeply embroidered without ever getting properly written), this time a Gothic romance featuring lighthouse keeper ex-sailor exile Jaina and haunting-her-own-manor ghost/banshee Sylvanas, with bonus dark rangers running a bar and Vereesa who knows very well who's in the locked west tower doing the accounts and seeing to the estate and refuses to come home until her sister is willing to leave her room and be civil.

It was definitely a mage tower. The maps of the area and all the local records called it a lighthouse, and to be sure, that was its function; but even before she'd moved into it, it had been a mage tower. An elven mage tower, at that: elegant and refined, to her eyes too delicate for the rugged coast it oversaw, but older and more powerful than it looked. Folded full of functional spaces-- rooms with workbenches and pigeonhole shelves, rooms with reinforced walls and ceilings-- the tower had been stripped bare when she'd arrived. When the last keeper had gone for the war, they had left nothing behind.

The great lamp and lens at the top were mundane enough, though the way her fingers itched at the feeling of old arcane magic she doubted that had always been the case. Two levels down, the room beneath the lamp's machinery housed only the spiral stair and the still-operational magical apparatus: a communication system, tied into a net of wards and leylines and humming with power, if badly in need of maintenance. Maps covered the walls, marked and marked over in different hands, different colors; the fading lines told stories of old emergencies, storms past, battles long forgotten.

A watchtower.

A watchtower at the end of the world, as far as the fallen kingdom it had served had been concerned; and as far as Jaina Proudmoore was concerned as well. It suited her. There was a certain symmetry to it.

What was one to do when one's world had ended? Travel to the end of the world, perhaps.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Margrave's Consort"

📖Part 1 - An Honest Rendering

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: period romance, 1800s, royalty au, nobility, arranged marriage, a/b/o, winter soldier Bucky, post-serum Steve, vampires, historical fantasy au

Summary: Lord Steven Rogers rides north with his valet Clinton, the final stretch of a journey to meet his betrothed: the Margrave of Wïnterhelm.

The Margrave of Wïnterhelm had not been seen publicly for a fortnight, when Lord Steven Rogers left by coach with his friend and valet, Clinton Barton; traveling north towards what would be his new home.

A journey that should’ve taken three days was prolonged to over twice that by foul weather conditions, much of the Northroad being made muddy and impassible after so much rain and snow, requiring an overnight stay at not one, but two roadside inns, and even a stop to repair a broken axle. 

“Banished to the far reaches of the Nӧtternland,” Steven muttered, eyeing out the carriage window at the wicked crags and hills that lined the road to either side. Up ahead, another eerie stretch of northwoods loomed like the gaping maw of some beast, waiting to swallow them whole. “No sign of life anywhere. What a wretched place.” 

“They call it the 'dead' of winter for a reason,” Clinton drawled from across the carriage where he was lying down, not deigning to pull away the handkerchief he’d draped over his eyes in fatigue. “There will of course be more to it when the seasons change.”

“Perhaps,” Steven grumbled. The pass through which they drove had grown so high at either side now that the late afternoon sunlight was all but blocked out, making the road seem misty and dark. Steven would have worried that they’d taken the wrong way, but the coachman had already stopped at a farmhouse earlier that day to reassure them of their correct path. “How much longer could this journey possibly take?” Steven complained.

“Nearly there, I’d expect,” Clinton said tiredly as he shifted on the seat with a quietly-pained grunt. “And a good thing, too. These cramped quarters are insufferable.”

Steven pursed his lips and continued to look ruefully out the window. “Perhaps we’ll be set upon by highwaymen before we can reach the castle,” he mused. He’d read a novel like that, once.

“Really? That’s what you’re hoping for?” 

Steven shrugged mulishly. “Maybe.” He was only half in jest. Highway robbers wouldn’t be such a terrible fate, at least not so terrible as the one that awaited him at Castle Barnes. 

“Dramatic,” Clinton scolded, and though Steven couldn’t see his friend’s face, he knew what the man sounded like when he was rolling his eyes full up into his skull. “You’d rather die than marry this fellow? He’s titled nobility - higher than you could ever dream to rank, your Lordship - and for whatever reason, he wants you.” Clinton chuckled. “You’d think he was a complete dog, the way you're acting.”

“He might be.”

Clinton scoffed, the handkerchief moving slightly over where his mouth was. “You have his likeness," he drawled. "Do you think the artist is such a liar? Do you think the King is?”

Steven pressed his lips together. Surreptitiously, he touched the small velvet box that rested in his pocket. It contained the miniature he’d been gifted by his betrothed. With one more quick glance to check that Clinton's face was still covered, Steven pulled the box out and flipped it open on its hinge. He touched the edge of his thumb to the painted curve of the Margrave’s jaw.  “An artist will make a sonnet of a portrait, if he’s being paid handsomely enough,” he murmured.

“Or perhaps he’s actually handsome.” 

“Perhaps.” Steven gazed down at the image of the man. He had yet to inform Clinton that he actually had met his husband-to-be once before, and thus knew well and good that the artist did not lie or exaggerate the man’s looks. 

The Margrave of Wïnterhelm was quite comely, as anyone who looked upon the painting would see. With dark hair and steel blue eyes, a stern brow and strong jaw, his was a noble countenance indeed. He didn’t look the two and forty years that he was, with no visible marks of age around his mouth or eyes shown in the rendering. Whether that was borne more of truth or an artist’s flattery remained to be seen. 

Steven had only met Ser Barnes briefly, and with nearly a decade passed since, many things could have—and likely had—changed. Steven surely had, and he could hardly fault his betrothed a bit of aging when he himself had altered his form so drastically over the past few years. He was nervous to reveal this to the Margrave, but was comforted by the notion that he would certainly not be the only one much changed by time. King Fury had, upon championing the match, made Steven aware that Ser Barnes was a veteran of the last war, and that he'd given his arm in sacrifice for the victory.

That was how Steven knew the portrait to be true in its depiction of the soldier's sigil on its coat of arms, and in the insignia the man’s epaulette bore. Only a warrior of the realm could wear the mantle of the white wolf, after all, and Steven knew that, whatever King Nicholas' faults may be, he was not one to tolerate the counterfeit of wartime merit.

The portraiture did nothing to hint at the Margrave's brutal injuries, with the shoulders and sleeves of his jacket filled out quite nicely. Steven supposed that a man of his stature would have access to some sort of prosthetic to wear underneath his clothes. In any case, it wasn’t the man’s body that had Steven so-dreading their meeting. 

It was the history that the two of them shared, and the mistruths of that history, that Steven feared would make their reunion less than felicitous. He hadn't, after all, been entirely truthful with the man, last they had met.

... Nor had he recently. With no time and little money to spare, Steven had convinced himself that there wasn't any real harm in sending the Margrave a painting of his own face and form that, while honestly-rendered a decade ago, was now very much no longer relevant.

A loud clap of thunder sounded in the distance, surprising Steven from his contemplation and causing him to snap the velvet box shut on his fingers as he gave a start. He flushed and hastily stuffed the box back in his pocket, but Clinton's half-asleep snort of surprise at the thunder was enough to let him know that he hadn't been caught mooning over his soon-to-be husband's portrait.

Steven sighed and slumped back against his seat, and by the time they'd driven into the darkened embrace of the northwoods, the rainfall kept a constant patter against the carriage roof.

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

This has been a fill for:

@stuckyversebingo

card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky

Square D3: 1800's

@anyfandomgoesbingo

card: sarah-writes-stucky

Square B5: Royalty AU

[the-cloudy-dreamer]

Gothic Romance Dreamling AU (General Plot)

“Robert Gadling is a professional appraiser who’s being offered a job cataloguing the contents of an old, abandoned family estate.

The former owner Lord Morpheus Endelas, a infamously mercurial painter, went missing months after his only son’s death.

After formal investigation decides to classify Morpheus’s disappearance as a cold case, the remaining Endelas family hires an auctioning house to sell out their brother’s estate.

Through cataloguing the estate Robert begins to know Morpheus and to piece together the last months of his life, particularly the late man’s obsession with something called the “the ancient order of mysteries”.

What does this order have to do with Lord Endelas , late son Orpheus Endelas and Lord Endelas own disappearance?

More importantly why can’t Robert stop having dreams about this man he’s never met before?”

[constelationprize]

Happy Fwip Fwednesday or wathever

The minutes drag on, and the cold wind starts seeping into his coat. He knows with terrible certainty that nothing is coming to find him out here but the rain.

Jeremy draws in a deep breath.

“HELLO?” He tries again at the top of his lungs, shaking what little he can of the gates for good measure.

The figure appears as if from thin air – later, thinking back, Jeremy will realize he was simply crouching behind the bushes. But in the moment, all he sees is a tall, pale, scarred man dressed head-to-toe in black, raising himself from the dirt with gleaming blades in hand. The fright that courses through him is so sudden that Jeremy skids back, nearly landing himself flat on the ground, raising his suitcase in front of his body as if it can offer any real protection from the incoming attack.

He’s convinced, nonsensically, that it’s Death himself coming to him, to put a gruesome end to the Purgatory that has become his life. But Death lowers his blades with a muted snip, and Jeremy realizes that what scared him was a pair of garden shears.

Maybe death would be preferable to this mortification.

The man seems less than impressed with Jeremy’s performance, which is to be expected. His sneer is something of legend; It turns that which otherwise must be a young, handsome face into the picture of disgust, cold gray eyes pinning Jeremy to his place as if he were some kind of garden worm – or maybe a grass stain in his clothes, since worms were at least useful.

“You should not be here,” The man’s voice is deep and heavily accented. Jeremy barely has the time to be surprised that there is a foreigner in such a desolate place before he continues, with a heavy tone of finality, “Leave.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” He drops his suitcase and tries to ignore how his ears are burning from embarrassment, fishing inside his coat for the right piece of paper, frantic. “I swear I’m supposed to be here. I’m Jeremy Knox, the, uh, new hire.” Jeremy sticks his hands between the bars of the gates to offer the folded letter to him, “Take a look. It’s my letter of employment, signed by Ms Muldani. I wrote back saying I would arrive today, but it must have gotten lost in the mail…” Realizing how stupid and conceited that sounded, he added: “Or maybe the household is just busy, of course. But I would really appreciate it if you could let me in.”

The man didn’t spare the paper a single glance.

“I know who you are,” he scoffs, saying the words slowly as if Jeremy was a child, and not a particularly bright one, “And you should not be here.”

[aglitchysylveon]

Decided to redraw my TMC oc Cecelia in this dress I found online, I was trying to find a theme for her fashion wise and I found out that "Romantic Goth" is one of them. (Vibe and color wise (black, white, gray and red) and tbh yeah.. Though she usually wears tuxedos)

So yeah, the colors might be a bit lazy but that's because I was experimenting (I also took like 1 hour to color it lmao)