#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🚫

[il3x]

songs that are more or less musical magnus archives statements:

transformation by anthony warlow

the haunted phonograph by thoushaltnot

???? will update

[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

[reddstardust]

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

♡reblogs are very appreciated♡

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

[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

[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

[deafeningladyruins]

A Christmas Surprise

The abandoned carnival, usually a place of eerie silence and haunting memories, had transformed into a winter wonderland. Art the Clown had spent weeks preparing for this moment, determined to give her a Christmas she would never forget. He wanted to show her that beneath his eerie exterior, he could be tender and caring. It all began one crisp evening when she returned from a walk to find the carnival unusually quiet. The entrance, usually marked by rusting gates, now glowed with a string of twinkling lights. She followed the path illuminated by the lights, her curiosity growing with each step. As she rounded the corner, her breath caught in her throat.

Before her stood a sight that seemed straight out of a dream. The dilapidated rides and booths were adorned with garlands, wreaths, and ornaments. Strings of colorful lights crisscrossed above, casting a warm, festive glow over everything. Snow, either real or an illusion Art had conjured, blanketed the ground, adding a magical touch to the scene.

"Art?" she called out softly, her voice trembling with awe and emotion.

From behind a large, decorated Christmas tree, Art the Clown emerged, dressed in a Santa Claus suit. His ever-present smile now filled with pride and anticipation. He held out his hand, and she took it without hesitation, letting him lead her deeper into the transformed carnival. He had set up a cozy area with a makeshift fireplace, crackling with faux flames that provided both warmth and light. There was a small table laid out with a festive feast—roasted vegetables, steaming bowls of soup, and a perfectly cooked roast. Art gestured for her to sit, his eyes twinkling with delight.

As they enjoyed their meal, she couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the effort and love Art had poured into this surprise. "Art, this is incredible. How did you manage all of this?"

Art's silent response was a gentle squeeze of her hand and a warm smile. After dinner, he led her to a small stage, where a phonograph stood ready with an old record. He placed the needle carefully, and soon, the air was filled with the soft, melodic strains of a Christmas waltz.

Art extended his hand once more, inviting her to dance. She accepted, and they began to waltz under the twinkling lights, their movements graceful and synchronized. The world outside ceased to exist as they lost themselves in the music and each other.

"You're full of surprises," she whispered, her heart swelling with love and gratitude.

Art's eyes softened as he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against hers in a tender kiss. The moment was perfect, a blend of romance and magic that seemed to freeze time itself. As the song came to an end, Art took her hand and led her to a small clearing where a sprig of mistletoe hung from the highest branch of a bare tree. He pointed up, drawing her attention to the delicate green plant. She looked up and then back at him, a smile playing on her lips.

"Mistletoe?" she asked with a playful glint in her eyes. "How traditional of you."

Art's eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. The world around them melted away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the electricity of their connection. The kiss deepened, a silent testament to their love that transcended words. Afterward, Art led her to a cozy tent adorned with soft blankets and pillows, creating a sanctuary of comfort and warmth. Inside, the tent was warm and inviting, with more twinkling lights casting a gentle glow. Art had prepared everything to make her feel cherished and loved.

She climbed into the bed he had arranged, feeling the soft, comforting embrace of the blankets. "Art, will you stay with me tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be alone."

Art nodded, his smile gentle and reassuring. He lay down beside her, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. As they cuddled together, the warmth of their bodies and the soft glow of the lights created a cocoon of safety and love.

Art rested his head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. For the first time in his twisted existence, he felt a profound sense of peace and belonging. She stroked his hair gently, her touch soothing and tender.

"Thank you, Art," she murmured, her eyes closing as she drifted off to sleep. "This is the best Christmas I've ever had."

As the night wore on, they lay entwined in each other's embrace, finding solace and comfort in their shared love. In their hidden sanctuary, amidst the remnants of a forgotten carnival, they had found a place where their hearts could be free—a place where even the darkest souls could find light and love.

———

I’m back, I apologise there were a lot of stuff going on but I made it, hope you guys enjoy this little story.

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