#haunted phonograph

[dyrewrites]

Had to look up phonographs for reasons and now this is in my head again. Please enjoy.

[reddstardust]

Here's a little bittersweet comic based on the song "The Haunted Phonograph" by ThouShaltNot that I made for a uni project. I worked really hard on this and I'd really appreciate if you could reblog this post! ❤❤❤

♡reblogs are very appreciated♡

🚫DON'T REPOST MY ART WITHOUT PERMISSION/CREDIT🚫

[pitifulbinx]

Seldom known fact, I LOVE swing music, amazing, I don't like to dance but that's the peak of musical content for me

[boypussydilf]

hey speaking of which who wants to see my petrigrof playlist. i even made it all fancy and put songs in a specific intentional order instead of just throwing in anything that passively made me think of them at random. its right here

[doppiohearn]

but i fear it's not a dream and you'll be swallowed in it's darkness, it will one day speak your words for you my love

[squidcave]

please give me suggestions for this playlist if you have any

[funkylilomen]

An Elegy on Record

something about love, loss, and the liminal

•┈┈┈••✦{ | }✦••┈┈┈•

He ran a hand along the balusters as he descended the stairs, dust caking his fingertips as he did so. Each step sent the click of heel to wood echoing throughout the mansion, the soft sound magnified by the large, empty space. A pair of white gloves hung limply from his back pocket, swaying as he walked. He let out a sigh as he reached the floor and glanced around at the minimal decor; he hadn't been down here in quite some time.

Thin, towering windows with intricate designs blooming throughout their panes let sunlight spill into the room, painting the vintage furniture and wooden floor in gold and illuminating the dust particles waltzing about with one another in the air. Two chairs sat beside each other against the wall, a small table with a large brass gramophone sitting between them. Off to the side was a large bookshelf filled with nothing but records. There were a few of classical music artists, such as Bach or Chopin, but most bore the name of someone the world had never come to know.

He carefully made his way over to the collection, taking each step as though the entire house might come crashing down on top of him with so much as a single breath. He ever so slightly brushed his fingers along the edges of the sleeves, sending a bit of dust that had been resting there to stir and join the rest in a dance of wind and gravity throughout the room. He stopped on one in particular that caught his eye, his hand suspended out in front of him as he hesitated.

After a moment or two of considering, he slid the sleeve from its place off of the shelf and into his grasp. With a gentle motion, he swept off what had collected on its cover from having gone untouched for so long. It felt heavy and yet so fragile in his palms, a sense of desolation tugging at his heart at the thought of what he would do to it.

But he needed to hear that voice again, even if for just one more time.

Just as gingerly as he had made his way to the bookshelf, similarly did he approach the gramophone. The record was sat down on one of the chairs as he retrieved the gloves from his pocket and slipped them over his hands. He wound up the machine until it gave resistance, then, gently, he slipped the record from its sleeve and placed it upon the turntable. The break was released, and the record started to spin round and round, but it didn't play quite yet. At last, he moved the needle and meticulously lined it up with the grooves in the shellac.

He backed up as the machine crackled before starting to play a familiar tune. He held one hand behind his back and another out toward the air, as if offering a dance to the empty space.

"We'll meet again... Don't know where, don't know when..."

The voice that started singing was not that of the original singer. Rather, its sound resembled that of a man's, and a talented one at that. The voice was entrancing, like silk. One could only pray to be blessed with such a voice.

"But I know we'll meet again some sunny day..."

He closed his eyes, going through the motions of a dance he had learned some time ago but had long forgotten its name. With the way he danced, it's clear that there was meant to be a partner with him.

"Keep smiling through... Just like you always do..."

He twirled around dust and ducked sunlight as the song continued on and the outside world started to dim. But slowly, he could hear its melody start to deteriorate as a faint laugh started to take over, his dance unfortunately following suit and his eyes beginning to wet. He knew this would happen, and he tried his best to tune it out, but he couldn't take his focus off of it. He started missing beats and tripping over himself. He had to open his eyes once again, and even then, he couldn't go back to the graceful movements he had started out with. It didn't help that his vision was slowly blurring.

The song and the beautiful voice that had sung it hadn't even been able to reach its finish before it was entirely taken over by a woman's laughter. That horrible, horrible laughter...

He fell to the floor, fighting an already lost battle against the uncontrollable sobs. The laughter continued to echo through the now pitch dark mansion.

Another record ruined.

[drscintilla]

haunted phonograph i just remembered i liked that song it’s like that homophobic vase from tma but straight version

[ranboo5]

“Surely if I put on Haunted Phonograph it will make me keep drawing” I say as if I won’t stand up to imagine an unrelated animatic

[multifandom-rambler]

the haunted phonograph but instead of a phonograph it’s a keyboard and I want to play will wood on it and instead of a husband it’s pulling me away from my maths homework

[reddstardust]

Some sketches from the comic I posted the other day! ❤❤❤

♡reblogs are very appreciated♡

🚫DON'T REPOST MY ART WITHOUT PERMISSION/CREDIT🚫

[shadow-and-purgatory]

But watch out

life tip: you can listen to a song on loop

[phantom-does-a-thing]

I love legend lore media that drives people to madness

[anouchard]

Malevolent Liveblog: Episode 12

HELLO THERE.

Spoilers under the cu(l)t ...

To your right. Take the door now y'all.

Lighter. I'm sure this will never mean anything.

"Anything look ... edible?" Get this man a proper meal, please.

MUSIC

LAUGHTER. I LOVE his laugh.

I am sure the ornate mirrors will not come back to haunt us in any way.

Gosh, I forgot how immersive this podcast was from the very beginning.

Laundry chute?

"Damn" indeed.

Oh I forgot about the paper! What's the deal with that?

Phonograph? Ooh.

KELLIN.

Wait ... this doctor is Harlan?

That genuinely never registered, but ofc it is.

Harlan, how did you do this one? Harlan.

The King in Yellow!

Aaaaand cue the music.

Ohhhhhhh boy. Oh. Oh?

"See yourself framed in gold"? DO NOT GO BACK TO THE MIRRORS.

The DREAD I feel.

Getting closer ...

NO. DO NOT.

Harlan, how do you know that mirror horror is my worst nightmare. How. It is up there with eye horror. How dare you.

TUNNEL

"You first" I HAVE JUST REALISED WHY THAT IS FUNNY.

Uh, down we go.

"This isn't a mine".

"Then it's a secret we need to see". ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT.

"To the keenest form of fascination".

CARCOSA? IS THAT YOU??

(This gives me chills. So many chills. John's description and tone is WONDERFUL).

CRASH. Well, that went well.

WE ARE HOME.

Very Lemony Snicket vibes here.

The city has eyes? THE CITY HAS EYES??

Ohhhh the vocal shifts. Lovely.

Lantern? River? Very Underworld.

No paddles? Something in the water? This feels like we are about to meet Gollum, folks.

"We're moving ... slowly".

Of course there's something down there. Of course there is.

The vibes are IMMACULATE.

"Do fish swarm?" Not the time, Artie.

NOPE NOPE NOPE

"Arthur lie back down" ugh.

"ARTHUR ARE YOU MAD". Yes but maybe that's how he survived.

"It's over" ahahahahahahahahaha.

Anaesthetic? That was considerate.

John being speechless is ... well.

CASSILDA???

WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH THE KING IN YELLOW WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH THE KING IN YE-

Is this Yhtill? Alar? Carcosa?

"You're here with me, John, and I need you. We're a team".

Oh of COURSE there's a corpse.

OH GOD

Large yellowish egg?

"I know this place".

Adore this. All of this.

"Are you willing?" Oooft.

AMPITHEATRE YES

Ah yes, the horror of being Known.

"You've come a long way to become whole again".

Oh boy oh boy oh boy

"Promise nothing will happen to him".

Ahahahahahahahaha YES

This is one HECK of a finale.

"My face is ... my own, once again ... I am The King in Yellow." Chills.

Piano.

"Faroe?"

OH HEY KING.

"Every instance of you is being erased." And yet he holds on.

HEY JOHN.

Oh ...

Aaaaaaand SCENE.

[lab1rynth]

Yan!Ghost/Spirit

Yan!Ghost who resides your new house, it was built during the Victorian Era and surprisingly still had all of its furniture set up in the house, which was honestly a relief to you, you could either sell it all to gain some of the money back that the house costed you, or you could keep it and clean it all up so you didn't have to buy any new furniture.

Yan!Ghost who you heard of by the sellers of the house, there was a man who was murdered at that house, he was found without a head or any trace of evidence to lead to who he was or why he was murdered. 'He is quite active' they said, you tried not to laugh. You never believed in ghosts, but you decided to listen to their warnings since they had sold the house for quite cheap because of this 'John Doe'.

Yan!Ghost who finally catches a glimpse of you the day after you bought his house, he followed you through out the house, taking his time to look over you closely. Watching you touch and move his furniture. Running your hands along his velvet couch, his phonograph, his dinner table. The last people who lived there at least asked his permission to use his things, they studied up on him, but you, you waltz up in his home like you own the place!

Yan!Ghost who starts the haunt, that night a little after you went to sleep, he started playing some of his tunes on the phonograph as he did every night. He sat on the couch and let out a small sigh, relaxing as the music flooded through the room. Though the calm was quickly interrupted by you barging into the Livingroom with your flashlight, waving it around the room and checking for intruders before turning off the phonograph with a huff and heading back to bed. Absolutely unbelievable, how dare you turn off his music!

Yan!Ghost who absolutely trashes your stuff while your asleep, knocking over your boxes and breaking stuff. Hopefully when you wake up to your things a mess then you'll figure out how he feels when you touch his things!

Yan!Ghost who continues to watch you the next day, feeling pleasure in watching you clean up the mess he's made. Though you seem as if you couldn't care less, you chalked it up to you just not balancing the boxes correctly.

Yan!Ghost who randomly appears out of the corner of your eye, a dark figure with no head just standing there facing your direction, you would walk through cold spots and immediately feel as if you got hit on the back of your head, the phonograph randomly would play and screech at different times of the day, cupboards and doors would be slammed, stuff would fall without reason, yet you still stayed.

Yan!Ghost who one day see's you looking up things about him on your small little screen thing. He watches over your shoulder and reads with you, he had laughed along when they said one particular thing about him that was not at all true. It spooked you and you had jumped up, getting frightened by the random loud voice that was so close to you.

Yan!Ghost who gets an idea after that and starts whispering to you, speaking in your ear, saying hello or good morning. He didn't like you, but you were living with him now, so you both might as well get comfortable. With the next few months, you both did! He would help you find stuff, just talk to you, and leave you be if needed, and you'd respect his things and his music! You would loudly speak whats on your mind, knowing he's listening. Though he still hits you every time you walk through him.

Yan!Ghost who starts actually taking a liking to you, you start seeing him more, not just in the corner of your eye, but walking in front of you, or sitting next to you. He wasn't just a dark figure like he was before, you saw details now, he wore quite a dapper looking suit, with a muted-brown coat, his head was sliced off at the neck, where it was surprisingly clean, no blood drew out of the cut, probably because there wasn't actually any blood there.

Yan!Ghost who goes radio silent for a week or two after all of the activity, not even the nightly tunes you've gotten use to. Stuff of yours start to disappear with no hope of finding them. You shout at the ghost every time something important of yours ends up missing, to no avail.

Yan!Ghost who had been stashing your stuff in the attic, where he stayed most of the last few days. He feels absolutely disgusted with himself, he feels absolutely in love with you! How could he do this to himself! For the last few days he stomped around in the attic, punching stuff and throwing things, though randomly he would just plop himself down and stare at one of your objects he's collected, taking in every detail.

Yan!Ghost who started watching you in your sleep, looming over your body, staring at your peaceful face. He'd sit on the edge of the bed and caress your cheeks, and explore your body with his hands, most of the time finding himself rubbing his thumb over your lips, parting them and just admiring them. What he wouldn't give to kiss those lips.

Yan!Ghost who, one night, sat on the edge of your bed. His hands had roamed as they did every night, just feeling your skin against his fingers. His hands hesitated when they felt over your neck, stopping for a second and contemplating, before gently pressing down against your neck, slowly adding more and more weight onto your neck until you were choking and struggling against the invisible hands against your neck, you thrashed and yelled, your hands scratching at your neck as you tried to breath, before eventually going limp.

Yan!Ghost who, after a few minutes of silence, let go of your neck, his hands shaky as they moved them back up to your face, your eyes wide open and your lips parted. What he wouldn't give to kiss those lips. He can only sit and wait until the next time he see's you again, and he'll be there for you with open arms.