#house of lambs

[chenziee]

Keep you in my thoughts and books

Written for the gen side of the @newscoozines Halloween Zine! You can download the gen zine >here<, the shipping zine >here<, and the digital merch >here<!! All for free :D

Merry spook or something like that 🎃

[ READ ON AO3 | KO-FI | COMM INFO ]

—————

Halloween was the best, Linlin had always thought. Even as a child, it was the one night she could eat all the sweets she wanted without her parents scolding her. And she always got all the treats in the whole town. Everyone who tried to hold out on her got the trick.

Those were the rules, after all!

Linlin chuckled at the memory of her old neighbours’ garden getting ripped apart by her tiny toddler hands after they refused to hand over their candy. As if other kids needed them more than her. Ah, that was fun!

She didn’t have to do that now; now, she got everything she wanted and more.

Licking her lips, Linlin hummed happily at the sweetness of the chocolate on them; it was silky smooth, like the most delicious blood on her tongue. She would never get enough of it.

“Are you happy, Linlin?”

A wide smile appeared on Linlin’s face at the familiar voice. “Mother! There you are!” Linlin called, her voice full of joy.

Oh, how she’d missed the Mother—how long had it been? A few minutes? Hours? 

Or decades?

—————

“Mama, Mother Carmel is here,” the chess soldier said solemnly as he carefully placed the photo on the table directly opposite Linlin.

Linlin sighed, a soft smile pulling on her lips. She nodded, taking in the familiar grin immortalised in the picture frame; she could almost hear her kind voice whispering assurances in her ear. Merciful words of love and acceptance, the Mother’s presence itself full of warmth.

“President Morgans, isn’t that woman the human trafficker Mount—”

“No!” Morgans hissed immediately, cutting his employee off before he could finish.

Still, Linlin’s eyes narrowed, her gaze turning ice-cold. It wasn’t the first such preposterous slander… but it still enraged her every time. How dare these people accuse the Mother of such things? It was insulting to her memory—as well as to Linlin herself.

“M-my, Madam Carmel looks stunning as always!” Morgans hurried over, bowing slightly to the Mother before turning to Linlin. “I must say, Mamigo, your Halloween tea parties are always a delight!”

Linlin huffed; she knew full well what Morgans was doing… but she would allow it, just for today.

Today was a day for celebration.

Today, she could feel the Mother’s comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Maamamama! All thanks to my sweet children!”

Morgans nodded, making a show of looking around in awe. “I agree. The Minister of Candy outdid himself this time!”

Laughing, Linlin agreed easily—after all, it was Perospero who was in charge of the decorations; even the tables and chairs were made with his sculptured candy. She let her gaze wander around the elaborate setup, taking in the sight of her children and guests mingling. Most of the ornate chairs were unoccupied, their beauty on full display—

Suddenly, she froze.

At the table next to hers was a child; not one of her own, but one that was intimately familiar to her nonetheless. There was a crown sitting atop the boy’s blond hair, freckles on his nose, and dark circles underneath his eyes—eyes that stared directly at Linlin, cold and soulless, yet piercing.

Linlin blinked… and the child was gone, as if never there.

“Mamigo…?”

“Huh?” Linlin jerked, accidentally knocking her teacup over. Cursing quietly, she shook her head, forcing herself to focus. Whoever, whatever that was, he was below Linlin’s notice—and intruders could be taken care of by the security. 

A smile finding its way on her lips again, Linlin turned to face Morgans once more. “Ah, never mind, never mind!” She laughed, then snapped her fingers to get a refill of her tea. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the party, Morgans! Have you tried Smoothie’s Kirin drink?”

“Oh, yes! I must say, it’s quite delicious. You should tell her to sell it, you could make a lot of money with it! I’ll even take care of the advertising for you, Mamigo!” 

There was a devious spark in his tiny bird-eyes, and Linlin laughed loudly. “Mamamama!! You’re as much of a vulture as always.”

As Morgans defended his ‘business sense’ and ‘journalist’s soul,’ Linlin couldn’t help but glance back at the table next to them. Stussy was sitting in that chair now, another relic of the past… but she felt different.

Lillin dismissed the thought.

—————

Walking through the halls of Whole Cake Chateau after the tea party, Linlin clicked her tongue. She had told Zeus to go get some food delivered to her room ages ago but the thundercloud hadn’t come back, nor were her damn treats there! She should have sent Prometheus; he was such a good kid compared to idiot Zeus.

Now, where were all the soldiers and the homies? She was getting tired of doing her servants’ jobs for them!

“Homie—” she stopped, her irritated expression turning to one of confusion when she noticed the figure crouching on the ground. They wore a familiar hat reminiscent of a panda’s head, their figure slender and shrouded in shadow, seemingly melting into their surroundings.

The sight made Linlin pause for a second… but then a grin pulled on her lips. Finally someone who can deal with her damned food delivery.

“Poire!” Linlin called out to her daughter. “Go tell Streusen to send me a snack!”

Poire didn't move, not acknowledging Linlin at all.

Linlin’s eyes narrowed, her patience running thin. “Hey! Did you hear me, Poire?!”

Finally, the girl raised her head. The movement was slow, as if she were fighting some great force to do so… or was just too lazy to look at her own damn mother when she was talking to her. Linlin took a deep breath, an insult on the tip of her tongue—

But then, their eyes met.

It wasn’t Poire.

It wasn’t any of her children.

“What… are you doing here?” she asked in surprise, taking a step back.

The child didn’t respond to her question; the face of a half-mink simply stared back at her, eerily silent. His face was unmistakable—nose and mouth akin to an animal, fur growing where his hair should be, panda ears sitting proudly on top of his head. The round, light brown eyes that gazed up at Linlin were young and innocent but carrying the weight of resentment.

Linlin knew who he was… but it was difficult to believe.

It had been 61 years since she had last seen this child, yet he looked not a day older than he did back then.

“Where have you been?! You disappeared on me!” Linlin’s voice shook with a mix of emotion. She wasn’t sure whether she was happy… or beyond herself with anger.

And still, the child only looked at her, motionless.

It felt like hours before he opened his mouth the slightest bit, a single quiet word passing through his lips. “Why?”

Linlin blinked a few times, her brow scrunching up into a frown. “Hah?”

“Why did you do that to us?”

Linlin’s frown only deepened at the question—at the accusation. But, before she could respond or do anything, someone else called out to her, making her jump.

“Mama!”

Inadvertently, Linlin turned to look at the young girl approaching her. “Ah… Pudding.”

“Mama, are you alright?” Pudding asked, taken aback. She studied Linlin’s expression, then glanced around the hallway, seemingly searching for the source of her mother’s distress… but finding none.

Quickly, Linlin looked back at the half-mink child—but the hallway was empty; the boy wasn’t there anymore, gone like steam over a fresh cup of hot chocolate. Just like the Prince earlier.

“Mama…?”

Heaving a deep sigh, Linlin closed her eyes momentarily before shooting an annoyed look at Pudding. “What is it?”

Something dark flashed over Pudding’s face but it was gone immediately, replaced by her usual sweet, innocent expression and obedient smile. She gestured to the cart she was pushing. “Zeus said you wanted a snack so I brought you some cupcakes from Chiff—Mr Streusen and my special chocolate pumpkins!”

Oh.

Linlin’s mouth watered at the sight of the treats and in a split second, the encounter she had just experienced evaporated from her mind.

Sugar was all that mattered, after all.

—————

As she sat in her room with nothing but her tasty treats, Linlin thought back to the two boys she had seen today. They had both disappeared too quickly and suddenly…Was it because there were people around?

She supposed it didn’t matter anymore.

Not when she was sitting in her fluffy armchair, eating Pudding’s chocolate pumpkins, and taking in the unchanged faces of all her old friends from the House of Lambs. She hadn’t noticed them coming in, nor had she seen them sitting down on the floor around her, but here they were now.

And Linlin… was excited.

It had been so many years, years full of nothing but questions—and now, they were back.

Licking her lips, Linlin hummed happily at the sweetness of the chocolate on them; it was silky smooth, like the most delicious blood on her tongue. She would never get enough of it.

After all, sweets tasted the best when shared with friends, with family.

“Are you happy, Linlin?”

A wide smile spread on Linlin’s face at the familiar voice. “Mother! There you are!!” Linlin called, her voice full of joy. Oh, how she’d missed the Mother, how she’d waited to hear her voice again. “I knew you’d come see me, too!”

“I wish we never said ‘happy birthday’ to you.” The Mother’s voice sounded strangely cold; there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on her face.

Linlin tilted her head to the side in confusion, her eyebrows scrunching together slightly. “Because you disappeared right after?” she asked… then laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “Never mind that! You’re here now!”

“Linlin,” the only other girl in the group said softly.

“Linlin,” the fishman joined in.

“Linlin.”

One by one, the children called her name, their tones solemn and carrying a strange weight, until finally, it was Mother’s turn again. “Linlin. Look at them. Look at me. Look at us.”

“Hah?”

Linlin’s frown deepened, but she complied, studying her guests’ faces, their hair, their bodies, until she finally realised what the Mother was talking about. There were dark stains on everyone’s clothes. One of the children was missing an arm. Another was missing a leg.

There was a raw, fresh scar resembling a bite-mark running across the Mother’s face. It was still bleeding.

Linlin could swear none of it was there before…

Oh well!

“Maamamama!! You can go clean up in the bathroom, it’s past the door over there!” Linlin said, pointing to the back of her room.

The Mother was quiet for a moment, regarding Linlin as if waiting to hear something more—or something else entirely. Linlin didn’t know, and she didn’t care.

Taking a large bite of the next chocolaty treat, a wide, content smile spread on her lips.

She had waited 61 years for this moment. It didn’t matter to her what the children’s, or the Mother’s reason for coming after all this time was. She wasn’t letting them get away again.

Tomorrow, she would have her soldiers prepare secure rooms for all her friends; her kids could watch them, make sure they were comfortable—and not going anywhere. She was not letting them slip through her grasp this time.

Worst case, she would have Mont-d’Or take care of it with his books.

But, that was a problem for tomorrow; tonight, Linlin was happy, surrounded by the only friends she had ever had, eating the sweetest chocolate she had ever tasted.

—————

The next day, no trace of the Mother or the children from the House of Lambs could be found no matter how hard Katakuri, Perospero, and the others looked.

Linlin was left alone again, with nothing but a bitter taste on her tongue and eerie, bloody palm prints left all over her nightgown.

Next year, if they come by again…

Linlin would make sure to catch them and never let go.

[blorbobingus]

“oh yes, i am very reasonable and normal about this subject!!”

*proceeds to mass reblog any related content*

[thebellekeys]

leave him alone that's my emotional support grumpy middle aged white man with a layered past and zero bitches who's also really good at his job

[goryhorroor]

horror sub-genres: cults

[ninjasmudge]

doodles of a lamb and their horrible cat

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed (part two)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda), Hannibal (TV), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; heavily suggestive content, implied smut, unhealthy power dynamics, references to stalking and kidnapping, violence

♡ notes; still kind of figuring out characterization for Jason and Danny tbh

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> mama always taught him that sharing a bed with someone was wrong

> it could so easily lead to sinning! and the woods tended to be humid anyway, so it’d get sticky and sweaty

> but Jason likes keeping you close, very close

> the only time he’s not by your side is when he’s “working”

> and even then he’ll check up on you throughout the evening

> one day you get worried, though

> he’s usually back by the time you’re about to go to sleep- he drinks tea with you and usually cuddles for a bit even though he’s convinced staying would be bad

> on this night, the tea is getting cold, and you’re getting grumpy, so you step outside to call for him

> it’s just a moment- a split second that you feel a hand on your shoulder- too small to be Jason

> then there’s a sickening squelch, a scream, and a couple more wet thumps and groans before silence

> you don’t need to turn to know what happened, instead letting Jason come to you (he doesn’t like seeing you sad from his messes- and you don’t like seeing them period)

> he’s got the blood of the man who touched you splattered all over you but you just frown softly “…it’s bedtime.”

> he wordlessly nods and scoops you up quickly, seeming scared that you were somehow hurt

> you quietly reassure him but he gets you the tea and pets your hair until he’s satisfied you’re okay

> you relish in the affection and get an idea

> “Jason baby? can you sleep in my bed? just tonight?”

> you can tell he mulls it over a long while before he nods

> he looks comically large in your bed, holding your teddy bear for you while you change into pajamas

> you let him be the little spoon, wrapping around him happily

> surely something this comfy can’t be wrong, he decides and falls asleep peacefully

> but when he wakes up, holding your soft, barely clothed form tight against him…he realizes he doesn’t care what’s wrong and right when it comes to you

> because you make him want to do all of the things mama said not to - and he just loves making you happy

Bo Sinclair

> you like your personal space- that’s something you made clear when you started living there

> back then you were still a victim, but the point stands

> so once they trusted you you got your own little room and let you decorate

> and you like your arrangement. you have your bed, your boyfriend has his, and you don’t ever sleep in the other’s on purpose

> why would you want to sleep next to Bo anyways? he snores, he’s always splayed out in weird positions and he sweats like a motherfucker

> maybe it had to do with the way you can always hear him screaming when he wakes up in the middle of the night.

> or how it stings whenever he leaves after you fuck, even though you never really ask him to stay

> okay, fuck it. you love the idiot and you want to sleep next to him.

> that shouldn’t be too hard to say

> except it is, because your stubbornness is almost as legendary as Bo’s

> you’re still actively putting it off when you manage to sprain your ankle in the house

> after thanking Vincent for patching you up, you spend the afternoon in the living room, sulking as you wait for Bo

> you know it’s not his fault you slipped, but you’re irrationally mad at him and getting worse the later that he is

> you can tell Vincent got to him first because he’s already frowning when he walks in to the living room close to midnight

> “what happened to you, little darlin?”

> your anger immediately melts away and you give a pathetic little pout as he hugs you tight, cursing for not checking in

> he babies you throughly and eventually takes you to your room

> he’s giving you a goodnight kiss when you grab his sleeve

> “…stay?”

> he can’t hide his smug smile

> “…you want me to?”

> you grumble but he’s happy to strip to his boxers, whistling

> “what’re you so smug for?”

> “you finally asked me to stay.”

> “…well duh.”

> he falls asleep with your whole body laid on top of him, hand lazily stroking your hair

> for once he doesn’t have any night terrors, and he’s grateful

> so grateful in fact, he’d like to repay you..

Billy Lenz

> you don’t love the idea of billy spending the night

> it’s not that you don’t love him, or being around him. he’s your boyfriend, of course you like his company

> it’s just that the sorority girls don’t have the greatest track record of giving you privacy

> they don’t cross boundaries, or enter without knocking- you lock the door anyways

> but they like you enough that usually they’re knocking on your door by eight, inviting you on a shopping trip or to breakfast or even asking for help studying

> it can be stifling, but it’s sweet, and it’s not like they’ll know you have a guest. they’d be more courteous if you could tell them

> and there’s the second reason, the one you can’t tell Billy

> you know the walls are paper thin, and you know just as well he’d take that as a challenge

> but it’s spring break, and only a couple of students are still about

> so you quite casually ask him if he’d like to stay the night

> you’ve never seen this man smile wider in your entire time with him

> and he’s surprisingly PG as you make plans

> he’s excited to eat popcorn and get his nails done and cuddle - you paint his hails black and get the snacks ready

> you rent a horror movie for the occasion, and he’s giggling the whole way through it

> he thinks it’s just adorable that you get so scared, hiding your face against him

> “Billy’s pretty baby is so silly- maybe he should distract his baby….-“

> luckily, you’re able to turn being as quiet as possible into a game when you mention how sound carries through the house

> and he’s ecstatic when he gets to stay next to you, tangled in the sheets and clinging to you for dear life

Danny Johnson

> you’ve never been to his place

> he started as a stalker, so it seemed natural he’d just keep going over to your apartment

> and since he’s always busy with the paper, and continuing his current murder spree…

> well most nights you just let him go, and when you don’t you wake up alone

> but on a particularly boring evening you decide to reverse the roles just a bit

> you figured out his address some time ago- and you picked up a thing or two about picking locks from dating Danny

> so it’s not a problem getting into his penthouse and making yourself comfortable

> you make sure to send a vague text that you knew he’d be able to figure out

> after all actually being sneaky around Danny was probably dangerous- you’re about the only person he wouldn’t stab on site

> you can’t help your huge grin when he stalks into his bedroom

> he’s acting pissy but you see the way his eyes survey your nearly bare body

> “You little brat…”

> he’s the fun kind of angry

> after a through lesson in asking permission you shower and collapse into bed together

> you cuddle close and fall asleep in his arms as he traces all your new bite marks and bruises

> he seems to get the message about staying - when you wake up it’s to him kissing your neck and purring your name

> apparently he didn’t finish last night’s ‘lesson’…and he’s eager to continue

Hannibal Lecter

> he’s eager for you to spend the night, in all honesty

> he likes being in control, utterly and completely

> if he had it his way, you’d move in within the month

> but even though you’ve brought a bag, and are all pj-ed up, he’s distracted

> maybe the one thing that can distract him from you is work- he’s a perfectionist

> and he doesn’t have to prove himself to you like he does clientele and state boards, and practically everyone else

> “y’know you said ten minutes ten minutes ago.”

> “yes my darling- i’ll be there shortly, just- go lay down-“

> you roll your eyes and instead stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and beginning to kiss his neck

> he tries his damndest to keep focused

> “…if you don’t come soon, i won’t be awake enough to help you…unwind,”

> that gets him up- you 1, work 0

> you’re surprised when after you’ve both gotten nice and relaxed, he pulls you flush

> usually you have to ask for affection

> but he spoons you, face buried in your hair as he dozes off

[thehorsesthatareslow]

He's a highly trained MI5 spy. He's also a fucking idiot. He's bisexual. He has mother issues. He has father issues. He digs around in trash. He has no sense of self preservation. He ran around on a broken leg for half a season and then got blown up by a grenade. He speaks French. He's a journalist. He has fumbled bomb threats on two separate occassions. He has more head injuries then you can count. He's a freak for pain. He's been in a situationship with his rival for 10 years. He throws up when he sees blood. His mom was in a cult. His dad was the leader of said cult. He is permanently having the worst day of his life. He has the saddest, wettest eyes known to man.

I didn't say his name, but he popped into your head, didn't he?

[that1notetaker]

Getting some ideas out of my head so I can visually connect the dots

[khawla-gfm2]

📰Khawla's Family Campaign Update: 42📰

$6,022/$20,000 as of September 25th [10pm CDT]

We reached $6,000! let's keep the momentum going!

Currently $978 away from $7,000 as a short term goal!

the next immediate target is $10,000 as the halfway mark.

please consider donating even just $5, $10, or $20 to help push the fundraiser further to reaching it's goal! and keep reblogging/sharing the campaign so that other people who can donate may see it!

[for more information on the campaign: check my pinned post, the campaign page itself, or message me directly if you have any questions]

[tag list under the cut]:

@corpsenurse @vita-e @guiltycrunch @onetruesirius @gaysebastianvael @inplodinggofer616 @d3lph1unkn0wn @confusedsheepsblog @p33rpressure @ahperrytheplatypus @your-13th-suffers @hericanee @murderbot @arceusbeta @tam-shade-song @coleheinous @diberhaze @space-batzz @devilmeows @gizdathemxel

@slowbrobutch @hotsugarbyglassanimals @dubiousyuri @pinetreesdoodles @mores0 @suzu-by-starlight @sparky-is-spiders @hellotheretraveler @hahvdh @archferret @softeninglooks @moronic0xymoron @darthferbert @virgincognito @animebabe55 @profoundlyscreechingkryptonite @princessnessa2017-blog @neptuneschaos @the-mold-under-your-bed123 @ropes3amthoughts

@wild-forest-bee @rsquid2 @faerie-lights @lapastelr0sa @allegedlysicktomystomach @number-1-carrie-white-fan @adept7777 @cam24fan @strflwers @tremendousdreamtragedy @soullessjack @backgroundcharacterno15 @west-of-the-styx @apocalypsegay @something-writing @suburbananarch @fr0gie @stretchedbumhole201 @exltwounds @cori-randomstuff

@one-cold-witch @d1anna @esoteric-brustle @lpslover6669 @anakalos @buildmeupbuttercup14 @skkfujoshi @chaos-axolotl-reblogs @def-not-kaz-brekker @invulnerable-vaguewomen @dlxxv-vetted-donations @candycrypt1d @gryficowa @ocipiala @zaminami @mjthefaeva @nako-funky @kenniex2 @hananono @centi-pearl

@that-one-vangogh-painting @sappy-asphie @lotionlamp @kenniex2 @yeskhya @hyper-fucks-sake-tion @jauximeowmeow @lady-misaki @reymcmuffin @sufferswallow @thequeendied @a1m3v @parkerpresentz @extremereader @thetwistedarchives @absolutedoorknob @worowelf @hold-me-till-winter @beeware-of-lulu @littleladybaker

@plswtfdontdoitagain @footlongdingledong @cherrraty @heheheeheeh @fleurxduxmal @pintrestparasite @louisblue02 @clowdwatching @eldritch-something-or-other @sanguivorouscorvid @neoneone0 @p33p33p00p00 @mahougirlys @bi0feed @peppimeco @chiomn @himbo-noxx @louddragonphantom @futuristiccherryblossoms @market--land

@jellyfishinajamjar @rainbowpuppet @names-hard @deviouscowboy @moosebebignwatching @ginnyjuicee @dogbound1128 @greybear35-blog @dangerous-tangerine @wolfcubjim @l-dot-k-2 @yung-lean-hates-you-2 @ssak-i @koobird @mininightmare2 @strawberryglitterkiss @transexualcow @bluelunas @whenyou-wheni @bolas-de-berlim

@thesignpaintersstuff @sumthing69 @sentienceoverload-29 @theresamouseinmyhouse @kurtismcilroy @aswho1estuff @ratsnvermins @transvalkilmer @pipervonviper @cemetery-circus @tryceratops4 @woodwood6000 @katagawajr @aliensmoothie @nonbinarycryptology @the-number-1-iono-fan @mythicalbinicorn @talkswiththem @voidpumpkin @half-asleep-star

@luvdisc69 @ghostb3loved @fuckcapitalismasshole @no-clue-just-vibin @twashcat360 @amythestvaporeonbackup @lazy-but-amazing @dusty-brain @loucygoosey @bichi2004 @stalinistqueens @wynsummers @sad-cat-02 @rottingoranges @thingfromanoutherworld @ak1w1i @apinklion01 @cloxwork @polvuz

@therearenonutsforsomeendermen @noxumblog @ashkaranast @donationsmatter @punkeropercyjackson @callie-flower @patchoulitoes @stonedustghost @ofishally @stellaristcs @redmystery314 @asquidnotkid @omorimoroii @tanoroe @slightly-foolish @sergeantsarga @thebluespacecow @reusablebagofrats @eptck @577-6523

@killer-wizard @sapphicdragons-1 @rainy-clawz @afunlessland @dwarf-enjoyer @juchily @classyeyeballs @jeynees @ajatheoleander12 @sentienceoverload-29 @manic-pixie-dream-cock @jinnazah @1ikeavirgil @darlingbookworm @wetccarpet @chthonianalacrity @samurotting @aldryrththerainbowheart @mochipuppy16 @darinaethelaianprophet

@this-deadgirlwalking @rob-os-17 @moonbisexualsharktamerr @screamnpatches @luvdisc69 @ghostb3loved @fuckcapitalismasshole @no-clue-just-vibin @twashcat360 @amythestvaporeonbackup @lazy-but-amazing @dusty-brain @loucygoosey @bichi2004 @stalinistqueens @wynsummers @rottingoranges @thingfromanoutherworld @ashkaranast

@wetccarpet @chthonianalacrity @samurotting @aldryrththerainbowheart @mochipuppy16 @darinaethelaianprophet @rob-os-17 @moonbisexualsharktamerr @weakestwarrior @v1rtualv4mp @fiapple @tryna-sleep @snapcracklepop-myjoints @l-art-stuff-l @minosbull @duskstarshit @cosmicgamerboy @squidkiddoesstuff @attaboy-art @fireflyingaway

@blackcrystalball @lookineedsleep @lampthehealthminister @therealdjpocky @holyeaglecupcakesposts @amberspacedf @teeethbrush @bunnannie @lesbitching @lonelypotato23 @swaggy-hairy-thang @murenaaaaa @karlmarxmaybe @littlegaypancake @zimislockedinthefreezer @catboywillferal @yetisidelblog @tspicer23 @galax-dragon

@redpinejo @orphancat @sea-200 @literally-one-million-bees @aroacedisasterr @blvvdyindustries @sunmooneclipseandstars @theandroidsentbycyberl1fe @reblogingstuffrandomly @animatorfun @r4yt0r0f4nb0y @fazar234 @mstormcloud @theguiltygearheritageposts @doubleedgemode @millionthcephalophore @white-mirrors @cherubsaliaa @ash24601 @willhelmthewhale

@cipherinator @sister-lucifer @missivorystone @4de2ssy0 @alpabett @99orangeblossoms @totally-six @sematary-drive @knittedquails @masterofthepistachio @gagreflexoxo @owlchow @specificiumray @valentinemailbox @patzweigz @papus-clown-enclosure @montewave @chilewithcarnage @leftyreea @quesofromagecheese

@spookygayferret @cloudy-osc @thatonedemon @hellswolfie @hungee-boy @thenamelessdepths @courtly-kenzie @funnypickle3 @wompwompwoooooomp @ashytheslashy @magnuficentwo @thatgothicgirl @geodetojoy @feelo-fick @herondale-infj @nerdytextileartist @queencantaloupe @clownbugg-ie @xxhalfempty @ransiquack

@rowletlittenpopplioteam @the-coley-zone @furrysinthematrix @frograaa @mattsinclairvo @snufkin1970 @bi-worm @sillymarillly @luckycloverforducks @sithlordpadawan @kippahkaplan @bonecodoposto-45 @tinkerscrickets @starshinesparkle @commersons-fucking-dolphin @soulessdeadpool13 @kasthejackass @icaruslore @maln0x @fancylittleworm

[turquoisespace35]

King holding Francois

[franzkafkagf]

PRINCE JACAERYS VELARYON; THE FIRSTBORN, THE SOLDIER, THE TRAGEDY

inspired by this post by @allyriadayne

house of the dragon s01e08 / tory adkisson, anectode of a pig / george r. r. martin, the world of ice and fire / tomasz jedruszek, the death of jacaerys and vermax / unknown, i am a poor wayfaring stranger / george r. r. martin, fire & blood / doug wheatley, illustrations for fire & blood / peter paul rubens, st. sebastian / house of the dragon s01e06 / michael dante dimartino, leaves from the vine / josé saramago, cain / josefa de ayala - the sacrificial lamb / callie siskel, mourner's logic / mitski, last words of a shooting star / house of the dragon s2 / sam mendes, 1917

[sadlittlecountess]

all that pain, and humiliation was for nothing. trying to find emotional relief through her faith, and yet she is still hurting. Losing herself through her “harsh” actions (as a mother would!) for the sake of the safety of her children … will be and always was for nothing. The bubble of dissociation and denial popped by the one person she wanted for herself from the beginning. Doomed by the narrative, no matter how hard she tried to change it. :(

[goryhorroor]

"we all go a little mad sometimes, how about you?"

[bamsara]

GET OFF MY CAPE

[theonewhowails]

nari goes on field trips :]