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kaunis-sielu · 3 years

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Schoolyard: 8

AN: it’s my birthday so let’s celebrate with a surprise new part 🥳

Before you can even knock the door swings open.

“Daughter.” Frigga says with a smile.

“Ma’am.”

“Frigga, please.” You nod and she loops an arm through yours then leads you into her room. “When Thor told Odin and I about your marriage I was surprised. But of course my children would get into some sort of mischief like that, even unintentionally.” She laughs softly and gestures for you to have a seat. “Tea?”

“Oh, yes please, thank you.” You tell her and she pours you a cup of tea.

“Thor told me what happened when you were in New York. Are you alright?”

“I’m okay, surprisingly.”

“I’m sorry it happened.” She says kindly and you take a sip of your tea to avoid answering. “But that isn’t the reason I asked you here. I wanted to talk about you and my son.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you going through with the annulment?”

“I don’t mean any disrespect but I don’t think this is a conversation I’m comfortable having with you.”

“I’m just trying to understand. You clearly like Thor and he adores you.”

“Your Majesty,”

“I just think you both need to go into this with all the cards on the table. If you don’t you both might do something that you regret.” She eyes you for a moment as she takes a sip of her own tea. “Are you going to the charity event tonight?”

“I am.”

“Excellent, do you have a dress yet?”

“No, Thor said he’d send some options.”

“Would you allow me to help style you? My children haven’t allowed me to have much fashion fun in a long while.”

“Oh, that would be lovely.” You agree and she smiles.

“Alright, come with me.” You follow Frigga down the hallway and back to the room you share with Thor. “Excellent, the dresses are already here.” She says as she pushes open the door. There’s a rack of dresses sitting in the middle of the room, shoes on the shelf at the bottom. There are several different color dresses but the one that draws your eye first is a navy blue sparkly dress with spaghetti straps, a low v cut neckline and a slit in the skirt that goes to mid-thigh. You check the size and are pleased to see that the dress is in your size.

“What do you think of this one?”

“Oh that’s beautiful, I’d suggest a shawl or coverup of some kind though, it could get cold. Why don’t you try it on? And might I suggest this one too?” She hands you another navy dress, this one has thicker straps with a tulle skirt and flowers that start at the waistline then go down the skirt. You nod and are about to open the bathroom door when it swings open revealing Thor. His hair is wet and a towel is slug low on his hips, the dog tags hang around his neck as water trails down from the wet metal.

“Elskede,” he purrs lowly with a small smirk. “I see the dresses have arrived.”

“Yea, uh, your mom offered to help me pick something.”

“Kjæreste.” Frigga says with a smile not looking at her mostly naked son.

“Mother. It looks like there’s going to be a dress show. May I stay and join?”

“Kjære, just let us girls have some fun.” She tells him with a wave of her hand.

“Alright, alright Mother.” He grabs some clothes and goes back into the bathroom to change. When he’s changed he kisses his mother on the cheek then shoots you a wink and leaves. After he’s gone you glance over at Frigga and ask,

“Frigga? What does Kjæreste mean?”

“Darling.”

“Okay, and what about Kjære?”

“Sweetheart.” You move into the doorway and just before you close it ask,

“And what about Elskede?”

“Beloved.” She says and you softly shut the door. Beloved? He’s been calling you beloved this whole damn time. Beloved is so much deeper than sweetheart or honey or whatever it was you thought he was calling you. It certainly wasn’t beloved!

What are you going to do? You like him, you like him so much but could you actually do this? Could you actually be his Queen? Do you love him? You pull on the dress Frigga gave you, and zip it. You go out into the bedroom and Frigga smiles,

“You look beautiful. How do you feel?”

“Pretty.” You admit swishing the skirt back and forth.

“We can do better than just pretty don’t you think? Why don’t you try the other one?”

“Okay.” You agree turning and going back into the bathroom. When you get the dress you’d picked on you turn toward the mirror and pause. You love it. You love the sparkle, the fit, the thigh slit, all of it. When you go back into the bedroom Frigga grins.

“There we go, that’s the one.” She crosses to the door and says something to one of the women outside then closes the door again. “Do you feel beautiful?”

“Absolutely.” You tell her with a smile, “which shoes do you think?”

“Are you alright in heels?”

“They’re required at the hospital I worked at. One of the more sexist practices.” You tell her with a little eye roll and she laughs gently. There’s a knock on the door and before you can answer it Frigga calls,

“Enter.” When you look over at her she gives you a smile, “I had them go to my personal vault and get some things.” Two guards come in pushing a cart with a safe on top. After one of the guards opens it they both go back out the door and close it. “If none of these are to your liking we can go and find something else but I think you’ll like them.”

She further opens the door of the safe and you see several velvet boxes. She takes out the top one and opens it. Inside is a teardrop diamond on a silver chain and a pair of dangly earrings that are also teardrop shaped. She hands you each of the earrings and you put them in as she unclasps the necklace then helps you put it on. You look into the mirror and it’s not quite right.

“No, I don’t think so.” She says and you take out the earrings as Frigga undoes the necklace.

It takes three more tries but when she opens a velvet box with a white gold necklace inside, there’s a stick of diamonds that hangs down. The earrings are dangly, with two sticks hanging from the stud. When you put them in and the necklace goes on and the earrings are in you know this is it.

“Perfection.” Frigga coos, “Now, what should we do about your hair?”

You end up doing it in a loose updo, a silver chain woven into your hair. You get your make up done too and when you’re finished you feel like the princess you are in title.

“Oh Kjæreste you look beautiful.” Frigga says giving you a soft squeeze before handing you a black see through shrug. You tug on the silver shoes then wait for Thor to come and get you. You don’t have to wait long when he knocks softly on the door,

“I’m coming.” You tell him as you make your way to the door you scoop up the clutch that’s on the bed on your way to the door. When you open it Thor is standing on the other side with his hands in his pockets talking to Volstagg. When he turns and sees you he stops talking as his gaze travels over your body.

“Elskede,” he breathes, “you look stunning.” Your heart is pounding but you grab him by either side of the opening of his tux jacket and pull him back into the room.

“Close the door.” You tell him and he does as you ask looking just a little confused. “You lied to me.”

“What?”

“Elskede. You said it meant sweetheart, but it doesn’t. It means beloved.”

“You’re right.”

“Am I?”

“What?”

“Am I your beloved?” You ask your heart still racing as you wait for his response. It feels like hours but you know it’s only seconds.

“Yes.” He says simply and you pull his head down to yours and kiss him. Thor takes a second to respond but when he does his hands curl around your head. He’s careful to not ruin your hair as he teases your lips apart. You feel like you’ve been struck by lightening and every cell of your body is tingling. You pull away from him and he smiles slowly.

“I’m glad you didn’t wear lipstick.” He teases and you duck your head as you laugh softly. Volstagg knocks on the door and Thor gently tips your chin up so he can look you in the eyes. “We have to go to this event but we also need to have a conversation about this.”

“Tonight when we get back or first thing tomorrow.”

“Okay, now one more for the road.” He says and before you can ask what he means he kisses you again.

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goddessofmischief · 4 years

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Days of Future Past, Part 2 - Peter Maximoff

Peter Maximoff masterlist here, and read Part 1 here!

...

“Is this a good idea?” Hank said, watching you with unease. “Sending her with him.”

“Well... no, probably not.”

“It’ll be fine, teach,” said Peter, carelessly, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

That, you would later remember, was the exact moment that Charles Xavier began to loathe Peter Maximoff.

“Don’t take any unnecessary risks, then,” cautioned Charles. “Get in. Get Erik. Get out.”

Hesitantly, you took Peter’s hand, and he placed his hand against your neck.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Tryna help you. You don’t want whiplash, do you?”

“What?”

“Whiplash,” he explained, softly, and he whisked you into the complex.

...

...If anything, you had the comfort of knowing that Charles, Hank and Logan were in the Pentagon with you.

Logan would protect you, wouldn’t he?

Because you were absolutely sure this maniac was about to kill you.

“You got his dinner, right?” you said, awkwardly adjusting your uniform, identical to Peter’s.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it - oh, here he is.”

The two of you approached a plastic prison cell, peering down at the man inside it.

You had to say... you’d hoped that Erik Lehnsherr would’ve become less intimidating, over the years. If anything, he was as terrifying as ever. Even though he couldn’t see you, you felt as if you were already a disappointment to him.

Peter slid a tray down to him, carefully, and Erik read the note attached.

“Watch this, it’s gonna be cool.”

“You ever done this before?”

“Nope. Never!”

Peter placed his hands on the glass, and you watched in terror as it began to shake.

“Peter, are you sure-”

“Yeah, I got it!”

The glass rained down, and Erik climbed out. He did a double-take.

“Y/N?”

You waved, shyly.

“You know this guy?” asked Peter.

“Vaguely. He’s my old... mentor.”

“In three seconds, those doors are going to open,” said Erik, “And twenty guards will be here to shoot us.”

“I know,” agreed Peter, calmly. “That’s what I’m waiting for.”

Peter placed his hand at the back of Erik’s neck, and did the same for you.

“What are you doing?” asked Erik.

“I’m holding your neck so you don’t get whiplash,” Peter said, irritated.

“What?”

"Whiplas-s-s-h-h.”

At that exact moment, a cluster of guards stormed in, guns raised.

“Don’t move!”

Peter glanced at you.

“You ready?” he asked, and as you nodded, he rushed you and Erik into the elevator.

You leaned against the wall, feeling as if you were about to be sick.

“Fast. I... I don’t like fast,” you choked out.

“It’ll pass. It happens to everyone.” He rubbed your back, awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but lean in to his touch before he turned to Erik. “You must’ve done something serious. What’d you do? What’d you do? Why’d they have you in there?”

“For killing the President,” Erik deadpanned, and you bit your lip.

“Oh. They, uh... they told me you control metal?”

“’They?’”

“You know,” said Peter, “My mom once knew a guy who could do that.”

You and Erik exchanged glances, and Peter seemed blissfuly oblivious.

Just then, the elevator doors opened, and--

Charles slugged Erik.

“Good to see you too, old friend,” said Erik. “And walking.”

“No thanks to you,” Charles grumbled, and six guards rushed in.

“Nobody move! Hold it right there!”

...You didn’t know what happened.

One moment, Peter was by your side. The next...

All the guards had knocked themselves out, the kitchen was in disarray, and your beloved speedster was out of breath, a pair of earbuds in hand.

“Music?” you asked, breathlessly, starting to piece together what had happened.

“Yeah. Time in a Bottle.”

“Oh, I love Time in a Bottle-”

“Thanks, kid,” said Wolverine, brushing past.

You stopped in front of him.

“That was really cool, Peter,” you said, quietly, and you could swear he blushed.

“You really think so?”

You grinned, going on your tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek.

“I know so.”

...

“Peter, thank you very, very much,” said Charles, shaking his hand, and Erik added in a begrudging “You take care.”

“Hey, I saw your flight plan in the cockpit. Why’re you going to Paris?”

Charles rolled his eyes, refusing to answer, and began to walk up the ramp to the plane.

“Promise you’ll write me,” you urged, squeezing his hand. “And call.”

“Oh, every day.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he’d never keep that promise.

“Fine. Every week.”

“Fair deal,” you agreed, and you squeezed his hand. “I’ll miss you, anyway.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you miss me. I’ll be calling, and visiting, and writing-”

You silenced him with a kiss, and he dipped you, your hands entwined.

...Interrupted by Charles, flinging a set of car keys at Peter’s head.

“Do me a favor and return it for me.”

“Okay,” said Peter, dubiously.

“And, Peter?” said Charles, looking between the two of you. “Take it slow.”

Charles ushered you up the ramp, and Peter smiled at you, one last time.

You knew it wouldn’t be the last you saw of him.

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smells-like-mettaton · 4 years

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Rating: G

Summary: Papyrus's New Year's resolutions include: trying new fashion choices, helping his brother talk about his feelings, keeping his friends from murdering each other over Monopoly, and admitting his crush on Mettaton.

Word Count: 4333

XXX

“Hmmm… I feel a little… nervous.” Papyrus tugged at the end of his shirt. His very long, very tight shirt. That aspect felt more embarrassing than the fact that Mettaton’s face was cross-stitched into it. “This outfit is very different from my battle body.”

Sans blinked. His grin stayed tight, but still not as tight as this strange shirt. The red-and-pink fabric clung to the invisible magic that filled out his form. His usual crop tops covered just his ribcage, but this full-length shirt… it showed his abs. A full six pack of them. It was weird.

Of course, he knew that if he had physical muscles, he would surely have such a buff physique. A skeleton’s clothed form was based on their perception of their true self, after all. Sans was lazy and round. Papyrus trained daily, and his magic chiseled his form to show it.

He just hoped he didn’t look too chiseled. He didn’t want to intimidate anyone with his handsome figure. Though… perhaps a certain robot wouldn’t mind...

“You don’t have to wear it, bro. I’m sure the bucket of bolts will understand.”

No. No, the ‘bucket of bolts,” the fabulous Mettaton himself, would not understand. He would wonder why Papyrus didn’t wear his Christmas gift to the New Year’s Eve party. And then Mettaton would never believe how much Papyrus cared for him…

“No! Change can be refreshing. New year, new fashion! Yeah!!!”

“...Alright.” Sans shrugged.

He wouldn’t understand. He was wearing the same dingey hoodie he’d worn every day in the underground. At least it smelled a little better now that Toriel was around to occasionally wrangle it off of him and throw it in the wash. (Sans always complained, but Papyrus had caught him sniffing it and smiling dreamily each time.)

“You could stand to freshen up too, you know! Don’t you want to impress Miss Toriel? HMM??”

He elbowed his brother in the ribs (nyeh heh) but it wasn’t as effective as usual. This shirt had long sleeves, which left Papyrus’s arms looking more filled-out than in his battle body. And thus, his elbow had less boney-nudging power.

“Hey. Don’t try to jack-et up my style. ‘Sides, if Tori didn’t like the hoodie, it hood have ended up in the garbage ages ago.”

“Oh my gosh!!! Both of you belong in the garbage then!”

“Only if you’re there too, bro.” Sans winked. “Come on, I think we’re late enough to make an entrance. I know a—”

“Geez, Sans, I know you can teleport. You don’t have to be dramatic about it!”

Sans’s browbones scrunched. “You really are nervous, huh? It’s gonna be fine, bro. You’re gonna knock that robot’s socks off. Y’know, if he had socks.”

Sweat beaded on Papyrus’s forehead. He wasn’t surprised that Sans had guessed the source of his anxiety, but that didn’t mean he had to admit it.

“N-no I’m not nervous! It’s just… hot in here! Let’s take that shortcut and hope that Miss Toriel has been banned from the celebratory cider!”

“Yeah, it’d be a shame to have to lock her in her own garage this time…”

Sans casually slipped his arm through Papyrus’s and led them towards the bathroom. Of course, when Papyrus blinked at the entryway, they were suddenly walking through the tall doorframe into Toriel’s living room.

It wasn’t covered in Mew Mew- or Mettaton-bits. That was a good sign—Papyrus would’ve hated to miss a live chainsaw fight again. At the Gyftmas party, he’d been too busy wrangling Toriel to watch.

Sound always took a second to catch up with Sans’s shortcuts, so Papyrus felt Undyne’s smack on his back before he heard her.

“ACK!” He jumped before attempting to cover it with a cough. Undyne laughed.

“Dude, I know you don’t have to breathe! You can’t fool me!”

“It was a courtesy scream! Of greeting! Because I know how much you love to be intimidating!!”

“Heck yeah I do! Thanks, Papyrus!” She slugged him again for good measure, this time on the shoulder. It felt weird, with his bones covered in layers of protective magic and fabric. “Lookin’ good, by the way! I haven’t seen you in a full shirt in… geez, has it been a year? I almost didn’t recognize you!”

He tugged at his collar, though it wouldn’t keep him from sweating. Toriel kept her house cool, at least. Probably because she was covered in fur.

“I know, I know. It still feels unseemly for a royal mascot to be seen out of uniform…”

“Nah, it’s all good! I’m sure all the monsters with two good eyes won’t have a problem recognizing the Great Papyrus.”

He felt his cheeks warm. “Nyeh heh... heh… so it doesn’t look weird? Sans said it was fine, but you know Sans… he only wears the same smelly outfit, day in and day out! I can’t trust his fashion sense.”

“Then trust me. I practically invented fashion! Like, if you replaced Mettaton’s face with… a spear! Or an anime princess with a sword! IT WOULD INSPIRE FEAR INTO THE HEARTS OF YOUR ENEMIES!”

Papyrus hunched his shoulders and scratched the back of his neck. At least the shirt didn’t have a high collar, so he could still feel the tips of his vertebrae.

“I’m not sure fear is the emotion I am going for. Perhaps… grandeur? Or even… admiration??” His skull heated a bit more. Oh, he hoped his cheekbones weren’t stained pink. He hadn’t intended to keep his feelings from his best friend… but Undyne and Mettaton butted heads so often. He just wanted everyone to be friends!

Especially his best friend and the robot he maybe-sort-of had a crush on!

Undyne took a step back, squinting at him with her one good eye. Darn it, she was so perceptive!

“B-but I didn’t say it was romantic admiration!” Papyrus clarified. “It is—”

“OH MY GOSH!!” Undyne interrupted, her voice echoing over the human program Toriel had on TV. “YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON—?”

“SHHHH!” He slapped her hands over her mouth. She batted at them with her face-fins, her muffled shouting seeping through his gloves.

Eventually she quieted. Probably because the whole room was staring at them. Sans and Toriel on the couch, Frisk squished between them. Flowey on the windowsill, leaves crossed and faking disinterest. Alphys with wide eyes, as if predicting what Undyne was about to shout. And Napstablook, Mew Mew, and…

Mettaton.

Papyrus didn’t need to gulp. He did anyway.

“DARLING!” Mettaton spread his arms wide as he strutted towards Papyrus. His heeled boots somehow made a loud CLICK-CLICK-CLICK, even though the living room’s floor was carpeted. “Oh, you look wonderful! Positively ravishing!”

He stopped at arms’ length, then scanned Papyrus up and down. It felt like his robot vision could see right through him. Not that there was much to see—just normal bones. It was still rattling regardless.

“Th-thank you! The Great Papyrus strives to always be ready to be ravished!”

Sans spit out his drink. Thankfully it was just water, and not anything more intoxicating. With Frisk present, adult drinks would be off-limits.

But it still left a puddle on the floor, and wet bubbles gurgling out of Sans’s eyesockets.

“Oh dear.” Toriel bit back a giggle. “Frisk, do you mind getting your dunkle a towel?”

Frisk nodded eagerly, shooting Papyrus a wink before scampering off to the kitchen. Double dang it. Even Frisk could see right through him! Of course, Frisk was a master of flirtation, even if none of it had wooed Papyrus in the end. Perhaps the child could help him… if he survived this current encounter.

He straightened his spine. He was the Great Papyrus, and he would not be intimidated by a soul-fluttering crush.

“I um—I mean—”

Undyne pushed in front of him before he could come up with a super-effective conversation saver.

“Dude, you got Papyrus a shirt with your face on it? Why didn’t you pick out something cool?”

“Please.” Mettaton snorted, even though he also didn’t need to breathe. (They had so much in common!!) “You’d have me embroider your human cartoons instead, wouldn’t you?”

“Uh, YEAH!” Undyne was one of the few monsters who could almost match Mettaton in height, and she made use of that fact. Their noses—er, Mettaton’s nose and where Undyne’s nose would be—were nearly touching. Papyrus wished that meant they were about to hug and make up, but Undyne always kept her friends close and her enemies closer. She’d be more likely to strangle the robot than hug him.

Alphys hovered near her girlfriend, but her stammering was too quiet to break up the intense glare-off. That was too bad; Alphys was the one person who was beloved by both Undyne and Mettaton.

“You care about Papyrus, right? Don’t you want him to look as cool as possible?” Undyne continued.

“Of course I do.” Mettaton nudged her back with one gloved finger. “Papyrus is the very epitome of cool. And thus, the only accessory that could possibly accentuate his natural style is my face.”

Papyrus blinked. Maybe Alphys wasn’t the only person Undyne and Mettaton both respected.

“WOWIE!! You… think I’m that cool?”

“Oh, don’t sound so surprised, darling. I don’t cross-stitch for just anyone.” Mettaton winked—or maybe it was just a blink; his bangs covered the other half of his face—and then turned on his heel. “You may join Mew Mew, Blooky, and I in the kitchen if you’d like. Mew is absolutely desperate to be crushed at Monopoly.”

“HEY! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO’S GONNA GET CRUSHED, METTA-LOSER!”

Mettaton rolled his eyes. “Seriously. What is the point of an insult if it doesn’t include at least one clever pun? No class whatsoever.”

“Exactly!” Papyrus agreed.

“Hey, Me and Al want in on some metal butt crushing!” Undyne bent down and seized her girlfriend in a headlock, making Alphys’s face burn red. Papyrus wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or lack of oxygen, since that was her natural state around Undyne anyway.

“W-well, a-as long as all c-crushing is metaphorical…”

“Darling, the only Metta-phorical thing at this party is me.”

“UGH!! Papyrus, how can you hate Sans’s puns and put up with this?” Undyne threw her arms in the air, which had the side effect of releasing Alphys. “Come on, babe, I’m gonna need you to come up with our battle strategy!”

“Umm, you do know that Monopoly isn’t a fighting game, right…?”

Mettaton, Undyne, and Alphys all trailed into the kitchen with various levels of excitement. Papyrus was about to follow them when he caught Sans staring again.

Frisk was wiping his face with a snail-embroidered dish towel. His brother didn’t even blink, and his eyelights had gone oddly dim.

“Brother? Are you alright?” Papyrus leaned over the armrest and said in as quiet a voice as he could manage. “Did you want to play Monopoly too? You can be on my team!”

“Nah, it’s all good. I think Tori, Frisk, and I are gonna play Uno. It’s a lot easier for a lazybones like me.” He winked, but Papyrus wasn’t fooled.

“Sans. You made a New Year’s resolution to be more honest about your feelings. As is the time-honored tradition, you must keep your promise or risk a year’s worth of bad luck!”

Toriel and Frisk shared a glance. Had they seriously not heard of this tradition? Frisk had an excuse, being both a human and a child, but Toriel was hundreds of years old!

“Uh. Bro. I didn’t make any kinda resolution like that.”

“I know! You were too busy boondoggling, so I made it for you!” Papyrus grinned. “It’s already written on the refrigerator at home, so don’t even try to get out of it.”

Sans let out a long breath through his nasal cavity. His smile looked strained.

“Alright. You’re always better at comin’ up with that kinda stuff than me, anyway. But it’s no big deal this time. Really. I’ll tell ya after your Monopoly game.”

Papyrus’s browbone furrowed. “Okay… but Toriel and Frisk are my witnesses! You can’t wriggle out of it this time!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, bro.”

After one last knowing look, Papyrus left him in the living room. Perhaps he just wanted some alone time with Toriel, but that look… it had definitely been focused on Papyrus. He wasn’t so smitten by Mettaton’s charms to ignore that.

But Papyrus trusted his brother. And he trusted his own ability to pin Sans down by his gross hoodie until he got answers, if necessary.

“I hope you guys saved me the car!” Papyrus called as he plopped down at the kitchen table.

The empty seat just happened to be next to Mettaton. Had Undyne been wingmanning… (wingwomaning… finwomaning…?) for him already? Maybe he should’ve revealed his crush earlier. Her letter had managed to woo Alphys, after all.

“Oh no…” Napstablook said quietly. “We, umm, didn’t bring that Monopoly…”

“We brought Monster Monopoly!” Mew Mew brushed her hair out of her face with a paw. “It’s way cooler, mew~”

“It’s, umm, a-actually… Pocket Monster Monopoly, if we’re being specific,” Alphys said from her spot in Undyne’s lap.

“POKEMON!” Undyne grinned. “You remember watching Pokemon with me and Al, right, Papyrus? There was the epic fight between the Charizards, and then there was the lab that got Alphys all spooked, and then Ash got turned into a rock and you started crying—”

“I remember!” Papyrus cut her off. Not because he was embarrassed—it had been perfectly reasonable to cry when the human was resurrected by the love of the strange monsters. But Alphys might not want to think about the anime lab that had been reminiscent of her old home.

“Great! Then pick your mon!” Undyne reached around Alphys to push the two remaining pieces towards him.

One was an orange lizard Pokemon with flames on its tail. Was that Charizard? Papyrus had expected Undyne to pick that one, but she’d chosen a blue turtle-looking Pokemon with canons coming from its back. Alphys had presumably let her pick, or else they would’ve had the round pink Pokemon. Mettaton had chosen that one, and was cooing it it as he balanced it on his fingertip.

The other available option was Pikachu. Everyone liked Pikachu. Papyrus set that figure on the starting square.

“Excellent choice, darling. Now it’s time for the real show!”

The real show turned out to be a three-hour long battle royale. Despite Alphys’s insistence that Monopoly wasn’t a fighting game, the board game was interrupted by three and a half chainsaw battles. Two of those were stopped by Toriel entering with slices of pie and fistfuls of fire magic, respectively. The other two were settled by Sans distracting Mettaton with bad puns, and flashing his blue eye socket. Drama queen. It worked though, startling Mettaton and Mew Mew into calling a draw.

“Not that it matters, since Al and I are winning anyway!” Undyne grinned, stacking her paper cash into a tall tower. “I’d like to see your MTT-brand resort come back from that!”

It was true. If anything, Mettaton and Mew Mew were battling for last place. Each of them only held a few mortgaged properties to their name, while Team Shellshock (as Undyne named her and Alphys’s duo) had racked up monopolies on the two highest-priced sides of the board. Napstablook had owned the two purple spaces at the beginning of the board, until all the fighting drove them to vanish into the ground. They later reappeared the living room, chatting quietly with Toriel, Frisk, and Sans, and occasionally calling out “Oooo-no.” Papyrus wondered how he was playing the card game with no arms.

Papyrus himself was rather satisfied with owning the orange properties before Free Parking. His stacks of houses caught the other players as they escaped from jail. Plus, Tangela and Victreebel were rather cute.

“Do you hear her, Papyrus?” Mettaton raised the back of his hand to his forehead and leaned dramatically into Papyrus’s space. “Insulting my brand when she hasn’t even had the nerve to duel me! Of course, I would have to show her mercy, on account of her being Alphys’s one true love.”

“You? Show ME mercy??” Undyne stood abruptly, accidentally dumping Alphys onto the floor. “Oh, uh. Sorry babe.”

“I’m used to it…” Alphys muttered. “Maybe I should just stay down here…”

“No! No more fighting! The Great Papyrus will not allow this lighthearted board game to devolve into yet another brawl!” Besides, he really did not want to find out what Sans would do if the others caused any more damage to Toriel’s house. The scorch marks on the tile would already take hours to buff out.

“Very well, darling. I’ve showed off all of my moves for the night, anyway. I wouldn’t want to let my performance go stale.”

“Oh, like it wasn’t stale to begin with,” Mew Mew said. Mettaton glared at her before—to Papyrus’s surprise—the robot rested his head on Papyrus’s shoulder.

“Wake me up when Mew comes up with some more original material.” His metallic eyelids slid closed.

“It’s Mewtwo to you, bolts for brains!” Mew Mew pointed to her character, the purple Pokemon from the movie.

She’d landed on Alphys and Undyne’s Nidoking space again, but neither of the girls seemed to notice. Undyne because she was busy snapping a not-so-discreet photo of Mettaton on Papyrus’s shoulder, and Alphys because she was still under the table.

In response, Mettaton just started emitting tiny Zs. Papyrus was careful not to move and possibly disturb him, even though his bones wanted to rattle with nervous energy. No one had ever slept on his shoulder before, let alone a handsome robot. Normally he was simply too bony to be comfortable.

Maybe this new shirt would have to become a permanent part of his wardrobe.

“Enough. ENOUGH. ENOUGH!!! I refuse to play under these conditions any longer!!” Mew Mew shoved herself back from the table. Her tail lashed back and forth, and the bells in her hair jingled angrily.

“Mewtwo—” Papyrus called, but she was already in the living room, opening the door to leave. He sighed. Why was it so difficult to be friends with everyone…?

“Oh! Uh, h-hi, Asgore!” Mew Mew’s voice was suddenly respectful.

Asgore? Papyrus had thought he wasn’t invited, since the party was at Toriel’s house. He tried to crane his neck to check on Miss Toriel, but couldn’t turn far enough with Mettaton’s weight on him. Well, Sans and Frisk would surely be there with her. Hopefully with enough moral support, the two Dreemurrs could get along.

If not, they probably couldn’t do much more damage than Mew Mew and Mettaton already had with their chainsaws.

“He made it!” Undyne grinned toothily before throwing Alphys over her shoulder and jogging to join them in the living room.

Which left only Papyrus and Mettaton in the kitchen. Alone.

Stars, he hoped Mettaton couldn’t tell how sweaty he was.

“Finally,” Mettaton murmured, wrapping his arm around Papyrus’s not-bicep. “As much as I adore the spotlight, every star needs a moment to regain their shine.”

Papyrus blinked. Mettaton’s fingers tap-tap-tapped over his sleeve, a rhythm that was both comforting and baffling. What was he doing? Had he been faking sleep this whole time?

“I… are you alright, Mettaton?” He settled for asking.

“Oh my. I am being awfully forward, aren’t I?” He let go of Papyrus’s arm, but still left his head resting on his shoulder. His dark hair obscured his eyes from Papyrus’s angle. “This… isn’t something I’m used to, you know.”

Papyrus cleared his throat. “I, the Great Papyrus, know many things! But you will have to be more specific.”

Mettaton chuckled. “Very well. I am not used to cuddling with such a sweet, sincere, and devilishly handsome skeleton.”

His jaw dropped. Literally. It clinked off of Mettaton’s shoulder and landed in Papyrus’s lap. He had to reattach it before he could ask the question that pounded in his soul.

“Are you… flirting with me?” He didn’t have his dating handbook with him! Or a plate of emergency spaghetti!! How was he supposed to secure Mettaton’s affections??

Though… Mettaton seemed affectionate enough already, without any of those things. Could it be… that he just liked him?

“Finally! I made a bet with Alphys on how long it would take you to notice. The suspense was absolutely killing me, darling. You do know how to create dramatic tension.”

“Mettaton.” Papyrus scooted his chair back, leaving him space to grip Mettaton’s spiked shoulders. “You… like me? Romantically??”

Mettaton’s smoulder looked a little less confident than usual. “Is that so surprising? You’re the only one who shines as brightly as me. Your energy… your passion… you give one hundred percent to everything you put your mind to. That’s what makes a true star, darling.”

“Wowie…” Papyrus breathed. His head felt like it was spinning. Of course Mettaton, being an actor, would be good with words, but… these ones felt sincere. “Would you like to… maybe… go on a date??”

The robot blinked before shooting his signature dazzling smile. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”

“Are you two done flirting?”

Papyrus jumped at Frisk’s voice. Their head had poked through the entrance of the kitchen.

“Of course not! I, the Great Papyrus, have barely begun flirting!” He puffed out his chest, and Mettaton laughed.

“Fabulous! That’s the confidence I want to hear! It’s no wonder you were able to help Alphys.” Mettaton’s smile softened. It was something Papyrus had never seen before, something that had certainly never been captured on film or broadcast on television. He would like to save that smile forever, if he could. “I must thank you for that, by the way. I… haven’t always been the greatest friend to her. But you were able to do for her what I should have. She has positively sparkled since your self-confidence lessons.”

“I am glad to hear it! Alphys is a wonderful friend, and she deserves to feel wonderful about herself!” He beamed.

“Keep flirting if you want, but you’re gonna miss the ball drop,” Frisk called again, and then their messy brown hair disappeared back into the living room.

“It can’t be that spectacular,” Mettaton scoffed, though he hadn’t stopped smiling. “Now, if I were swinging in on the disco ball… now that would be a way to ring in the new year!”

“We’ll have to plan that for next year! I can’t wait to build a giant disco ball. It will be just like building a puzzle… but spherical! Nyeh heh heh!!”

“I’ll be looking forward to it, darling.”

And then, before Papyrus could blink, Mettaton gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Warmth pulsed through his bones, even though Mettaton’s metal lips were cold.

“Nyeh! Heh!! Heh???” He melted back into his chair with a hysterical giggle. He could see the appeal of Sans’s hoodie now. It would be nice to have a hood to hide his blush in.

But Mettaton was giggling too. The sound mixed with the cheers from the living room as the clock struck midnight.

“Happy new year, darling.” Mettaton winked.

“Happy new year!” Papyrus pulled him into a hug that probably would’ve crushed someone not made of metal. But Mettaton was, so everything was fine. “Have you regained your shine now?”

Mettaton squeezed him back. “Oh yes. I definitely have.”

XXX

“Some party, huh?” Sans yawned when they arrived home hours after midnight. It was a miracle he’d stayed awake this long. He’d even helped Toriel clean up, despite leaving Papyrus to clear the mess from his holiday party last week. Sans definitely had it bad, but at least Toriel was a good influence on him.

“It certainly was!” Papyrus beamed. “I’m sorry I did not spend much of it with you.”

“‘S alright. Frisk filled me in on everything.” Sans winked. “I gotta admit, I was worried at first, but I’m happy for ya.”

“Worried?” Papyrus squinted. “Wait… is that why you were acting weird earlier? I thought it might be about Miss Toriel.”

He chuckled. “Not this time, bro. You, uh… I don’t want you to think I don’t believe in ya, because I do. If anyone could get a superstar boyfriend, it would be you.”

Papyrus’s face warmed. He wasn’t sure that Mettaton was his boyfriend yet, but… he could be! Eventually!! The thought was nearly enough to make him see stars.

“But, uh, I just didn’t want him to lead you on.” He shrugged, hands in his pockets. “I’m glad he’s head over stiletto heels for you too.”

“Awww!” Papyrus squeezed his brother’s shoulders with one arm, the other grinding his knuckles against his skull.

“Hey, hey.” Sans pretended to struggle, but he was laughing. “Watch the skull. These things bone’t grow on trees.”

That pun was absolutely horrible, but Papyrus elected to ignore it for now.

“Thank you for caring, Sans. And thank you even more for not scaring him away.”

“Me? Scare anyone? You must be thinking of a different Sans. That would take way too much energy.”

“Oh, you can’t play innocent with me! You were going to give Mew Mew and Mettaton a bad time if they broke Toriel’s dining table!”

Sans’s eye sockets widened, as if he’d already forgotten about breaking up the fourth chainsaw fight.

“Heh. Nah, all I had to do was spook ‘em a little.”

“Spooking and scaring are synonyms, brother!”

“But I didn’t scare him away. In fact, I think I scared him towards ya.” He winked again. “You’re welcome, bro.”

Papyrus just shook his head and let out a soft nyeh-heh-heh. By the time he blinked, Sans had disappeared, probably shortcutting himself to his bedroom. It was rather late, even for Papyrus.

He flopped in his bed, still in his long-sleeved MTT-brand shirt, and dreamt of the fond memories to be made in the new year.

#undertale #papyton #papyrus #mettaton #papyrus & undyne #fic tag #tali writes

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shemakesmusic-uk · 3 years

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Hiatus Kaiyote shares a new video for 'Chivalry Is Not Dead'. Co-directed by Lauren YS and Lester Chan with additional animation from David Osegueda, the new visuals are a deep dive into a colorful wormhole where the band is animated as various other-dimensional creatures. It's a fitting visual for a track whose lyrics explore the bizarre mating rituals of leopard slugs (they turn fluorescent) and seahorses (they lock tails and dance). Singer Nai Palm said “One of my most beloved dearest friends, Lauren YS, who is a superstar illustrator, has intricately brought to life the inner fabric of my brain’s innermost desires. I feel like we are two parts of the same coin. They cover the visuals (in collaboration with animator Lester Chan), and we cover the sonics. We hope to take you on a sexy bizarre journey into the kinks of the animal kingdom. Love from us.”

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Taraka shares 'Welcome To Paradise Lost'; the title track from her debut solo LP out now on Rage Peace. Watch the Salvador Cresta-directed college punk masterpiece of a video above. Written in the wake of Prince Rama's split, during an intense period of isolation with only a 7 foot sonoran gopher constrictor snake for company, 'Welcome To Paradise Lost' is dedicated to Taraka's inner teenager, as she explains: "One day, I found myself living in isolation sleeping on a sand floor with a 7 ft long constrictor snake. My band (Prince Rama) just broke up, me and my boyfriend just broke up, my bank account broke up-- my life in general just felt pretty broken up. I started constructing this trashed simulated Garden of Eden in a gallery near my Texas hometown out of dreamlike fragments of my youth-- a Nirvana poster, a burned Green Day CD-R, some spikey belts wrapped around dead trees. I picked up an electric guitar while the snake slept in the amp and wrote 'Welcome To Paradise Lost' as a joke homage to Green Day, an anti-'Welcome to Paradise'. I wanted to make an anthem for innocence destroyed, a world turned upside down, an orgiastic celebration of ennui and disillusion. I wrote it for my inner teenager, so she would have a song to sing when she felt the absurd futility of pining for lost paradise-- to whisper to her that perhaps paradise is nothing but another empty societal construction-- a mirage-like prison of perfection-- and the moment it is lost, we are left with the remembrance of some inner forgotten freedom. The song was then cut on a lathe and pressed into pizza dough as an ephemeral, edible sonic artifact, a "pizza record", made from various plants grown inside the garden, and eaten by my childhood friends. This is the first time the song is being released in a non-edible manner."

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Secret Shame's intimate new music video for their dreamy post-punk single, 'Pure' is available now. Quote from Lena: "We shot all the footage for the 'Pure' video on our cell phones throughout the course of the pandemic. For awhile, it was difficult to be creative but making the video was a good outlet because we could go at our own pace. The song was already released and there was no pressure on time, and it’s not like touring was happening. This was a way to feel like we could keep going even if we were at a halt for the time being. The lyrical content of 'Pure' is sort of this mix of interesting imagery and this melancholic energy around feeling defeated. Originally, Matthew had the idea of playing monkey in the middle with a stuffed animal. I figured maybe we should just be covered in toys while playing this apathetic song about enduring abuse. In the end, it was fun and weird. We took turns filming flowers and skateboarding and captured each other being candidly strange. I got to sit in a bathtub with a bunch of toys and drink whiskey till 6 in the morning. There were sweet, gentle moments. I love being able to call these people my friends."

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K-pop girl group aespa have dropped the futuristic music video for ‘Savage’, the title track of their first mini-album of the same name. ‘Savage’ was co-written by SM Entertainment in-house producer Yoo Young-jin, alongside Hautboi Rich and Jia Lih (NCT U’s ’90’s Love’), and Kirsten Collins. At a press conference for the song’s release, aespa’s WINTER noted that the group members “paid extra attention to [show their] powerful and strong side” for the new music video, per Soompi. [via NME]

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Pop trendsetter Kim Petras premieres the official music video for her new single 'Future Starts Now.' A glossy end of the world dance party inspired by the chaos of one chapter closing for a new one to begin – a reminder that although our world has changed, there’s still hope and joy to be found on the other side. “The ‘Future Starts Now’ video is inspired by going into the unknown, having the world change and break under you, and celebrating that change and the future after what feels like the end of the world,” says Kim. “I was very into this amazing anime called Japan Sinks and, since I was so inspired by Europe when making my new music, I thought ‘There’s no better way to do this music video than to have the Eiffel Tower sink.’ When I think of Europe, the first thing I think about is the Eiffel Tower. It’s a metaphor for life: things are going to change whether you want them to or not and you can either roll with it and make the best out of it or let it drown you. The pandemic changed the world in bad ways but good ways too. It’s about not letting life sink you and to have fun and celebrate the world – whatever it becomes.”

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Phoebe Green has shared a brand new single, ‘So Grown Up’. Coming alongside a Vasilia Forbes directed video (whose previous visual work includes credits with the likes of Pixey, GIRLI and Hannah Diamond), it follows up on her Really Very Brilliant previous single ‘IDK’, and is described as “the first taste of a bigger body of work still to come”. Speaking about ‘So Grown Up’, Phoebe explains: “For a while now I’ve been wanting to write a song that feels like it’s straight out of a ‘90s coming-of-age film, that is equal parts nostalgic and bittersweet; I wrote about my relationship with my best friend of ten years, and how our pivotal years from vulnerable teenagers into adults were somewhat moulded by men and our experiences with them. Our self worth and our identity was so heavily warped by the male gaze, and it was overwhelming and almost uncomfortable to come to that realisation, I really wanted this song to reflect those feelings of sadness and anger that I feel now, but also our combined strength, resilience and love that we have as a result. When it came to filming the music video, I wanted to go back to Blackpool, the place we went to school together and spent countless nights walking the illuminations, discussing our hopes and fears for the future, drinking the cheapest wine we could find and making ourselves dizzy on the waltzers on the pier, it was such a special day and the video means so much to us, we’ll treasure it forever.” [via Dork]

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Ahead of the release of her debut album Leftovers on October 15 on Secretly Canadian, Le Ren is unveiling the final single, ‘May Hard Times Pass Us By’. “This song is really close to my heart. It was written for someone as we worked through a turbulent time in our relationship,” explains the Montreal-based artist. “When I think of leftovers, I think of things that have been cast aside,” she continues of the record. “When they’re picked back up or remembered, they can be repurposed… Leftovers came to mean a collection of feelings and moments of the past that still remain relevant to my present.” [via DIY]

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Mitski has released a new song, 'Working For The Knife,' her first proper single since 2018’s Be The Cowboy, minus a soundtrack contribution and a comic book score along the way. 'Working For The Knife' was co-produced by Mitski and Patrick Hyland, who she’s worked with on every album since Bury Me At Makeout Creek. “It’s about going from being a kid with a dream, to a grown up with a job, and feeling that somewhere along the way you got left behind,” Mitski said in a statement. “It’s being confronted with a world that doesn’t seem to recognize your humanity, and seeing no way out of it.” The sound of the song is bleary and dark, as Mitski intones about about feeling unfulfilled: “I always knew the world moves on/ I just didn’t know it would go without me/ I start the day high and it ends so low/ ‘Cause I’m working for the knife.” The track comes with a video directed by Zia Anger with Ashley Conner, which was shot at the striking Albany performance venue The Egg. It starts with Mitski entering in a cowboy hat before shedding it and making her way to the stage; it ends with an extended music-less dance. [via Stereogum]

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Los Angeles electro-pop duo Magdalena Bay have released their long-awaited full-length debut Mercurial World and has shared a bugged-out video for one more song, the loping/swaying 'Hysterical Us.' Magdalena Bay built 'Hysterical Us' on a funky bassline and a tinkly, nagging melody. It’s a fun, low-key pop song about feeling totally unmoored. In the Ian Clontz-directed video, the duo rides a minivan through some kind of psychedelic portal and emerges in a new, more colorful dimension. [via Stereogum]

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South Korean singer Luna, also a member of girl group f(x), has released the music video for her long-awaited solo comeback ‘Madonna’. The dance-pop track is a tribute to its namesake, pop legend Madonna, and makes a reference to the snger’s 1990 hit single ‘Vogue’. “When I grow up / I wanna be like Madonna / When I grow up / I wanna vogue how I wanna, I wanna,” Luna sings on the chorus. Meanwhile, the accompanying music video features the K-pop idol performing sleek choreography on a number of different sets, including a sprawling abandoned factory. [via NME]

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Hand Habits will release their new album Fun House on October 22, and here's one last early taste before the whole thing drops. 'Clean Air' is an arresting, sweeping rock ballad featuring The War on Drugs' Dave Hartley on bass. "When writing songs for Fun House, I had become exhausted and bored by the idea of writing more songs out of blame, spite, or anger," says Meg Duffy. "'Clean Air' is about finding clarity, leaning into acceptance, and acknowledging someone else's experience as truth without blame or resentment, even when it differs from our own." The song comes with a gorgeously shot black and white video directed by V Haddad. [via Brooklyn Vegan]

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ÄTNA have dropped their experimental new alt-pop tune, ‘Smile’. Out now via Humming Records, the track arrives with a brand new video, and follows their recent collaborations on Solomun’s ‘Tuk Tuk’ and ‘Weirdo’ with 11-piece techno marching band Meute. They explain of the clip: “In the music video for ‘Smile’, we go new ways this time and escape to a place between dream and disturbance, where a fleeting smile distorts space and time. Echoes from the future become déjà vu. Hypnotic and intangible. Unsurprisingly, our new song comes as a surprise; dry yet dubby, ballad-esque yet beat driven – a strive for acceptance of dark passengers who will always be a part of the whole.” [via Dork]

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After recently releasing her incredibly well-received sophomore collection the second ep, fast-rising indie bedroom-pop artist girlhouse (aka Lauren Luiz) has now unveiled the official video for the release's most recent offering 'boundary issues'. Establishing itself as one of the more anthemic and euphoric additions to her latest EP, the video for 'boundary issues' delivers a sweet and heartfelt visual accompaniment to the thunderous new single. Directed in collaboration with Jon Lee, the pair looked to tell a story of breaking free from your shackles and embracing your true self, a message that Lauren has always looked to embed within her music. Speaking about the video, she said, "This video was a collaboration between me and Jon Lee, a director from Los Angeles, CA. He really wanted to get to know me and what my life was like and try to make something that represented the feeling of letting go of holding back. Jon says, “The journey is when you discover your wings.” I'm so grateful for him and all the lessons we learned while creating this video."

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Marissa Nadler is releasing a new album, Path Of The Clouds, at the end of this month, right at the end of spooky season. Now, she’s sharing a new single from it, 'Couldn’t Have Done The Killing,' which leans into the haunted energy of so much of her music with a horror paperback-style single art and a creepy new video. The vid, directed by Tyler Derryberry and Christen Dute, is eerie and inspired by late-night chiller shows like Unsolved Mysteries and In Search Of…. They explain: "When Marissa came to us to make a video for a song on her new album, we were already aware of the album’s themes and her inspirations. While she was writing and recording the album sequestered at home during the pandemic, we stayed in touch, sharing our media diet of true crime and the paranormal. We exchanged links to podcasts about Skinwalkers, recommended our favorite serial killer documentaries, and discussed our favorite theories about DB Cooper. We set out to recreate that moment in time when murders and bank robberies shared an equal plausibility with hauntings and high strangeness. Remember when innocently entertaining a conspiracy theory or two seemed to have no cultural or political consequences? When Coast To Coast AM would have us believing the government was hiding a UFO in a hangar somewhere, but no one was going to storm the capital over it? The settings of Massachusetts and Maine appropriately enhanced the New England vibe of our and Marissa’s tone. Cabins older than the Great Depression and cemeteries older than the Revolutionary War are everywhere. Apartment buildings where college students still live today were the scenes of murders fifty years ago. Everybody seems to own an ax. We even did some shooting in Cumberland County, Maine, where Stephen King’s fictional town of Salem’s Lot is located. Turn on the camera, point it at the dark, and the witchiness just seems to seep in on its own." [via Stereogum]

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yeule is building their own universe. A non-binary London-based polymath, their work moves from visual arts to performance, absorbing the latest technological advances in the process. At the centre, though, lies a beating heart, an urge towards self-expression in all its forms. Real name Nat Ćmiel, this groundbreaking force will release their new album Glitch Princess on February 4, and it opens a pathway to extraordinary spaces. yeule kicks off their mission with 'Don't Be So Hard On Your Own Beauty' and it's a riveting display of lawless creativity. Melding together hyper-pop tendencies to shoegaze elements and jagged rhythmic interplay, the song dwells on self-worth and self-esteem amid the maddening expectations placed upon us by society. Joy Song directs the video, a beautiful yet un-nerving shoot that finds yeule weaving through saturated shades of pink, purple, and green landscapes. A bravura performance from yeule, they had to learn the lyrics to the backwards for this inventive shoot. [via Clash]

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Reggae, dancehall, hip hop, and more artist Koffee has been on the rise for the past few years, and now she has finally confirmed that she'll release her debut album in early 2022 via RCA. It'll include her just-released single 'West Indies,' produced by Iotosh, which finds her genre-defying and addictively catchy sound in fine form. Listen and watch the video (co-directed by Meji Alabi & Koffee) above. [via Brooklyn Vegan]

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Winnipeg singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and producer Sierra Noble, released the music video for their new single 'Let Me Out Of Here'. The video, illustrated by Nicholas Friesen, draws Noble and creative collaborator Rusty Matyas (formerly of The Weakerthans, The Sheepdogs, Slow Leaves, Imaginary Cities) overcoming their past struggles in calm pastels that flicker through shifting shades and an evolving timeline. “This video is a visual trail of breadcrumbs to some serious shit in my life. The challenges of growing up in a single parent home with a lot of unresolved trauma, sexual abuse in the music world, the very serious effects of being raised in the entertainment industry as a young girl, and the very real experience of avoiding the darkness until it swallows you whole. But, in the end - ironically - it’s about hope, and light, and love,” Noble explains. "My collaborator on this song and dear friend, Rusty, brought his own version of this experience to this song and video from surviving years of alcoholism and addiction that almost took his life. Once you’ve been in the darkness, you always know it’s there, but we fight to stay in the light now, and hope we can help others in their fight too.”

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London singers Miraa May and RAYE have come together to give us a brand-new single titled 'Go Girl' alongside visuals. As the title of the track suggests, this collaboration is an uplifting one that hears Miraa and RAYE trade vocals to create a new anthem for all the ladies out there. Directed by Sheena Brobbey and Miraa herself, the visuals provide us with a fun yet powerful display of female empowerment as the two singers let their hair down during a staycation. 'Go Girl' is the first single to be released from Miraa’s forthcoming debut album and by the sounds of it, we’ll be in for a treat when it arrives! [via GRM Daily]

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Ravenna Golden is here to take over the music industry, carving her own lane in the hyperpop genre. Since 2016, the rising star has been working behind-the-scenes, collaborating with pioneers in the industry including long-time friend Dylan Brady of 100 gecs. With the release of her debut album Girl Gone Wild, Golden stepped into the limelight as her own recording artist… and it’s been up ever since. Currently signed to Big Beat Records, Ravenna Golden returns with her newest release, the official music video for 'Expensive City.' The record itself was written from a vulnerable place, as any young adult woman would feel in an attempt to turn her dreams into a reality. Speaking on the record, Golden states, “‘Expensive City’ was written during a time when I felt like I was never going to get anywhere from doing what I loved. Every time I had to spend money, I’d think ‘What am I doing? Why am I here?’ But that feeling serves its purpose when a great song comes out of it.” In terms of the visual, the 25-year-old hopes to remind fans that they can have fun within the frustrations of daily life. [via Flaunt]

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After debuting it at the Proenza Schouler NYFW show last month, avant-garde artist Eartheater officially releases her new single 'Scripture' via Chemical X. The track, which showcases a transcendental mix of ethereal electronic and folk influences, is accompanied by a visual directed by Moshpxt and Eartheater herself. Speaking on 'Scripture', Eartheater says it's about “the feeling that I had surmounted some kind of huge mountain in my life that I'd been climbing for years...feeling very validated and rewarded in trusting my “stars” after following my heart, for years, down my very unorthodox and uncertain, risky path.” [via Flaunt]

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Meet Me @ The Altar have announced that they’ll be heading back to the UK next year for a run of tour dates. Following their debut UK live shows with All Time Low last month, the US pop-punk trio will embark on a European tour in support of State Champs, which reaches the UK in May. Meet Me @ The Altar, comprising guitarist Téa Campbell, drummer Ada Juarez and singer Edith Johnson, will take in shows at Manchester, Leeds and Birmingham as well as two gigs at London’s Electric Ballroom. The band are also scheduled to play Slam Dunk and Download Festival next year. In addition to the tour news, Meet Me @ The Altar have also shared a video for ‘Now Or Never’, which features on their acclaimed major label debut EP Model Citizen. In the Dillon Dowdell-directed clip, which starts out at 11:45pm on a Friday night “outside the shittiest venue in the world”, the band give an electric performance in a diner. [via NME]

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Alternative pop singer-songwriter Bella Kelly shares her sophomore single, 'Heartbreak Motel,' alongside its captivating visual. The somber piano-driven ballad details the pain and anguish that comes with being in love, vulnerable, and lacking the strength to crawl out of that dark place. Kelly's vocal performance is remarkable as she makes use of a hushed sultry delivery that oozes emotional trauma and pure melancholy. The track is bolstered by a grand piano-driven minimalistic backdrop courtesy of producer/engineer David Gnozzi who creates a dynamic ebb and flow environment for Kelly's intimate melodic runs. The slow build-ups, short silence, and transitions in the song also add an unprecedented urgency and emotional payoff as the tension eases off bit by bit. Award-winning director Vicente Cordero takes charge and delivers a beautiful cinematic video that plays out like a noir suspense thriller. He makes use of performance shots, subtle dark aesthetics that truly brings out Bella Kelly's unique and distinct beauty and style. From her signature half-shaved hair, the imposing majestic angel wings to the dark edgy fashion, Cordero brings the different elements in full circle with seamless cut scenes and slow-motion effects to drive the tragic tale of the three main characters forward without losing the plot or being too obvious. [via Earmilk]

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It’s been a minute since we heard anything new from Kelis, whose last full-length album was 2014’s Food. Now, the singer (and chef!) has shared a slinky new song and video directed by Adrienne Raquel called 'Midnight Snacks,' which she teased on social media this week. Produced by The FaNaTix (aka Giggs, Nicki Minaj, Popcaan, Vybz Kartel), 'Midnight Snacks' fits right in with Kelis’ long-running food theme. “It’s funny to me, but I like the fact that you can take sex and food, and you can put these two things together, and they’re totally interchangeable. I love that,” Kelis said of the new song, touching on her tendency to sing about food’s sensual appeal. “It isn’t intentional, but the idea is just that food is a very carnal thing,” she said in a press release. “Everyone can relate to it. It’s very human, it’s sensual, it’s something that you crave. And it’s sexy.” [via Stereogum]

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Set for release on February 8, Canadian duo Softcult have announced their new EP Year Of The Snake, and now they’re sharing new single ‘BWBB’. “We wrote Boys Will Be Boys about gender violence and the double standard, hypocrisy and dissonance of the ‘bro code’. Covering up for your buddies after they’ve assaulted someone creates a dangerous environment, especially for women. All of us need to be allies in this fight against gender violence and hold our circles accountable. The line ‘if there’s one in your company, I wonder when they’re gonna come for me’ sums it up pretty well.” [via DIY]

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As Chong the Nomad’s career continues to deepen in craft and skyrocket in popularity, she continues her run as one of music’s most reliably great singles artists with brand new single 'Forward,' a twinkling, dreamlike love song that feels like birds carrying ribbons around your head. The soft edges of its video highlights the comfort of being in love; the trampoline jumps and bridge walks and sitting by the lake and petting dogs on a sunny day and watching movies together. About 'Forward' and its corresponding video, Agustiano wrote to KEXP, “‘Forward’ was one of those songs that came out of me very naturally. Nothing forced. The same thing goes for the visual for it. Detroit artist Jax Anderson, one of my favorite people I’ve met in music ever, stepped up to direct it and I couldn’t be happier with what came out of it. We come from very similar backgrounds, she understood the awkward emotions that surround young queer love. I’m very proud of the final product. I’ve avoided being this vulnerable on film but it was about time, especially since it’s for a song I feel very connected to.” [via KEXP]

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Fresh off of the release of her mixtape The Yearbook last month, Baby Queen has shared the video for ‘Narcissist’. Speaking about the track, she describes it as “an admission of my own narcissistic tendencies but also me trying to make sense of where those tendencies came from in the first place. I think women are told from the moment they are born until they can form their own opinions that beauty and vanity are the key to their success, and then they are berated when they are older for being self-obsessed or apathetic. Cosmetic companies want us to hate ourselves. There is money being made off our obsession with improving ourselves and our appearances. This song is just saying, ‘Yeah fuck you, I am a narcissist, and I am self-obsessed, but why do you think that is?’” [via DIY]

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Kraków Loves Adana shared their new song 'Dream House' - the second single taken from the duo’s upcoming sixth record Follow The Voice, due Nov. 12. For the first time the band releases a fully animated video to accompany the song, which was created by Swedish animation studio Hannes & Johannes. Here, we are again drawn into Kraków Loves Adana’s alluring mix of mystic and melancholy. “'Dream House' is the byproduct of a daydream I had last fall and describes me abandoning my usual habitat, stepping out into the unknown but leaving a vital piece of my soul behind. The song’s outlines emerged in less than an hour and over time evolved into the synth pop piece it is now”, explains singer & producer Deniz Çiçek.

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LA singer/multi-instrumentalist talker, aka Celeste Tauchar, has shared a new single and video with the release of 'Sad Chick.' An anthemic confessional, 'Sad Chick' explodes as Tauchar’s confessional for what she calls her “depression habits,” those little routines that both maintain and help foster her helplessness. Cataloging all the ways in which she sees herself as just another sad chick, Tauchar rails against a backdrop of heady percussion and grumbling riffs. The music video for the single, directed by Sean Berger and co-produced by Tauchar herself, sees the singer swaying by her lonesome against a variety of city backdrops with a trio of balloons in her hand. It then cuts to shots of her sitting in an armchair overlooking an expanse of city lights and then to her sitting alone in a bedroom — still with her balloons — underscoring the tired isolation and feelings of not being understood that she gasps out on the song. It’s a whimsical juxtaposition to the song’s heavy-hitting honesty about the vicious cycles of depression and its frantic finale only adds to the song’s lucid openness. [via Grimy Goods]

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Jaguar Jonze has returned with her fiery new single ‘Who Died And Made You King?’. The cut sees the Brisbane artist share a different side to her sound. It’s driven by punchy percussion, fierce distorted production and unflinching lyrics, with Jonze taking aim at the culture of misogyny and toxic masculinity in Australia’s music industry. She illustrates this with a grab from a 2016 speech by former Sony Music Australia CEO Denis Handlin, who resigned in June, shortly after it was revealed that Sony Music’s head office were investigating allegations of discrimination, bullying and harassment in its Australian branch. An accompanying music video directed and edited by Jonze also arrived alongside the track, which sees the singer surrounded by a troupe of 12 Asian-Australian women and gender non-conforming people. They’re all clad in various shades of nude clothing, which Jonze chose to represent different bodies and the co-existence of vulnerability and strength. [via NME]

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Returning with new track ‘Typecast’, ELIO is introducing us to her brand new era. “‘Typecast’ really sets the tone for my new era,” she explains. “It’s about being put in a category of what you are, and what you can do. I feel like artists get put in a box so much, of how much they’re allowed to change and how much they should stay the same. I do it so much as a fan of other artists, but know how limiting it can feel as an artist myself. While writing the new music I just wanted to create stuff that felt right, no matter how different it was from my previous releases, but I found myself being reluctant because of how people view me as an artist, and how people have connected to the type of songs I have out. ‘Typecast’ was me having to go in a completely different direction in order to move on and grow as an artist.” [via DIY]

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SATE sends shockwaves with fiery riffs from her new single and music video for 'Nobody', featuring appearances by Toronto-based punk rockers The OBGMS. 'Nobody' is the second single from SATE’s upcoming album, The Fool, set for release on November 4. Much like the album, the single is based on her spiritual connection to Tarot. The single artwork, designed by SATE herself, evokes the card of Strength. The song is about standing in one’s own strength, vulnerability and having the courage to always be your true self. “The saying is, you can’t judge a book by its cover. We all desire to be important, taken seriously, and especially honoured by others for the strength and unique majick that we have to offer to the world. There have been many times in my life where I have felt passed over, worthless or invisible to certain people. I’m a true believer that no one is above me, nor is anyone below me. I wrote Nobody, to remind me of this belief in the times when I faltered. I wrote this to remind me to meet others with an undefended heart, full of compassion, but also to stand strong in my worth and all I had to offer. Not to get caught up in what others have to say about me or what I may feel that they might perceive of me, but to be my full unique and divinely designed Self,” says SATE. [via Volatile Weekly]

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Tank and the Bangas have returned with their newest single 'Big' featuring fellow NOLA native Big Freedia. “Big ass, big mouth, big bands, big house/ Everything I do is big/ Chillin’ at Big Freedia house/ All I drop is big sh-t/ Toilet bowls need cleaning out/ I pull up in that black thing/ I do a set, I roll out,” raps frontwoman Tarriona “Tank” Ball over Big Freedia’s wailing descant. Meanwhile, the track’s accompanying music video is a colorful science experiment gone wild, in which a lab coat-adorned Big Freedia convinces Tank to drink up a potion she’s concocted. Naturally, dancing, twerking, and all kinds of wild revelry ensue. Says drummer Joshua Johnson of the collab: “This song boasts big energy from two talented New Orleans artists. Tank effortlessly twists and turns lyrics at will during the verses only to open the stage for Big Freedia to join her on the hook. Anytime Tank and The Bangas and Big Freedia get together it’s a banga but this time it’s a BIG one!” [via Consequence]

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dangerouseggwolfangel · 4 years

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I got all the new spirits and... I know this is old news and all but... I can't thank Sakurai enough for what he has done with this game and with the spirits. I understand the people who miss the trophies, they were really cool.

But the sheer amount of characters you can actually put into the game by using existing art and all the lovely references that the developers put into the spirit battles are so much cooler than what the trophy and the stickers were. Okay, trophies have nice descriptions which makes them more useful for people that are unfamiliar with the characters. But for people that are familiar with the characters, nothing beats KNOWING why the Aerith spirit battle is at the Fountain of Dreams and Cloud is trying to protect her. Nothing beats knowing why the Cait Sith spirit battle has 3 Mr. Game & Watch spamming Judge. Even if you got the plot of FFVII spoiled you won't get the reference. You need to play the actual game.

The part that really warms my heart is that Sakurai didn't need to try so hard to make bonus battles that are so perfect for the characters. He didn't need to constantly update the game with more spirits and he certainly didn't need to give us so many. Most people would have been 100% satisfied with just the playable characters from 7. But no, he gave us Shiva, who was sadly missing from the game despite being the most popular summon (or is Bahamut more popular?). He gave us the Turks. They have many fans, sure but not enough to get in Kingdom Hearts or Dissidia apperently, so nobody would have been surprised if they were skipped.

Elena (or Irina if you are japanese) is one of my favorite characters ever, and my first videogame crush. And she is now in the best game of all time. This really feels like a Chistmas gift from Sakurai. I am so happy. I was so happy when Shantae was a spirit at launch. I was so happy when Igor from Persona was added as a spirit, when Leon S. Kennedy from RE4 was added (and his Spirit Battle references that game perfectly too), when Sans got a costume, when music from the Metal Slug games got in with Terry.

I understand that Smash hype and discourse will always be about playable characters, but sometimes we all really need to take a minute to appreciate all that Smash Ultimate is OUTSIDE its massive roster. I am mostly a fan of minor characters who have no realistic chance of getting in the game at all, which is why I mostly give support to characters who wouldn't make me cry tears of joy, or would become my mains, but have a good chance of bringing with them spirits (or background characters if Sakurai pulls another Terry) that would make me so happy.

Ryu Hayabusa, a pretty boring ninja if you ask me, but one of the most important recurring characters in Ninja Gaiden is my beloved Ayane who would get in as a spirit, so come on Ryu supporters WE GOTTA MAKE HIM HAPPEN!

Someone from Soul Calibur? Sure, anything to get a Voldo spirit.

Someone from Tekken? I love Xiaoyu, King, Yoshimitsu, Nina, Anna and Paul so fricking much, and at least a couple of them are guaranteed if we get Jin or something.

Crash Bandicoot? YES! A Cortex spirit would be the best.

Sora? Only worth it for the Roxas spirit.

Byleth? Not my first choice, but I don't get all the people who are mad because they wanted the house leaders. I'm too busy smiling because the house leaders got wondeful spirit battles (and also Seteth for some reason).

When smash speculation and wishlists are involed, you guys seem to care about who gets in as a playable character, the bonus stuff you don't care about (unless it's missing, like FF music until now. Then you suddenly care). I care about the bonus content and who gets in as playable matters just a little bit to me. Which makes me weird. But to me the spirits are what makes Smash Ultimate the best smash game and I'm willing to die on this hill.

Imagine being a Mallow fan. Barely anyone discusses or even remembers him. Everyone goes nuts about that stupid puppet who is literally just as important as your Mallow but he gets to appear in cameos and stuff, while Mallow is left in the dust. Then Ultimate comes out and Mallow is a spirit. It's not a Geno & Mallow spirit, Geno doesn't get to intrude in anyway. It's just a simple spirit battle who references your favorite game. A little detail. But you have never felt so seen and cared for as a Mallow fan.

The devil is in the details, and the masterpiece is in the details too. If Smash Ultimate had exactly the same roster, with the same gameplay, but no care and love for details in the background, in the victory screens and its approach to single player content was more on the level of Smash 4...

It would still be an 8.5/10 game at minimum, but it would also be so much worse at what its trying to do.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's been two years and Smash Ultimate is still such a beautiful game that keeps being given attention and players keep going back to it not just because it's a really pretty games with good gameplay mechanics. But because every inch of it has been crafted with love, care and attention to details.

You can have the best gameplay, and the nicest graphics but if you don't care to put all your passion into polishing your game as much as possible nobody will care (coughcoughMarvelVsCapcomInfinitecough)

#super smash bros #super smash bros ultimate #final fantasy vii #smash trophies #smash spirits #sephiroth smash bros #ff7 #ff7 turks #can you tell that I'm really enjoying the DLC?#the final fantasy stuff was the only thing that didn't feel polished in this game #now the game is perfect #Sakurai the madlad even fixed the Cloud spirit with actual FF7 artwork #and I guess this screenshot is how you'll find out I'm italian

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fuckyeahfightlock · 5 years

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2019 Advent Ficlet Challenge 3 & 4 The More, The Merrier/Lights

Sherlock heaved a great sigh, unashamedly naked with bedclothes carelessly arranged to provide only minimal modesty, leaning heavily on one elbow while waving the other hand through the air.

“Oh, Watson!” he exhaled, with stageworthy drama and a melancholy shake of his head. His hair was positively mad, not just free from its pomaded, barely-tame standard, but truly wild two hours after a bath without further tending. His cheeks were flushed hotly pink, as was his neck and most of his chest. The bottle of Scotch whisky he’d been gifted by the Colonel at Christmastide leaned half-empty against his side.

“Watson, oh,” he echoed himself, and his hand found his forehead in a motion John had only ever seen in Punch and Judy shows, indicating a confounding state of emotional crisis. “Oh, will people ever learn?”

“Learn what in particular, my love?” John replied, smiling and licking his lips. He had never seen Sherlock in such a state, for he was moderate in his every habit; the spectacle of a philosophical, not-quite-maudlin, drunken Sherlock Holmes was as amusing as it was amazing.

An exaggerated shrug, with heavy-lidded eyes. “It’s quite natural,” he said, with assurance and finality. “S’not as if I. . .or you, we. . .” He gestured to them both in turn, while he raised the bottle to his lips and sipped back more of the whisky. “Can’t change the natural order of things. Or of a man!”

John raised his eyebrows and checked the time on Sherlock’s set-aside pocket watch. He’d soon have to dress and school his stumble all the way back to his cottage.

“You had a wife,” Sherlock said. “S’not as if you didn’t try. And I was.” He grimaced. “Married to my work. Because of--what? Expectations, Watson.”

“Yes, well. This is a topic perhaps better addressed in a more sober tone,” John said gently. He reached for the bottle, but Sherlock held it, took another deep slug before surrendering. “Though I appreciate you’re on to something rather significant. If anyone could change the bible and the minds of all mankind, I’d put my money on you.”

Sherlock was lying back with one arm flung across his eyes. “We’re not the first, nor will we be the last, Watson.”

“I agree.”

“John,” he said, and rolled to his side, groping for John’s body, catching him by the hip and chin. “My very dearest John.”

“That’s better.” They kissed with smoky-sour mouths; when John’s eyes closed he felt as if the whole room was spinning anti-clockwise. Sherlock reached between their bodies to take John in the curve of his long-fingered hand. “Ah, my own,” John sighed. “Bit soon, I’m afraid,” for they had already once driven each other over the edge of pleasure, not an hour before, “Not to mention the effects of the drink.” Sherlock caught his eye, and looked mischievous in a way that was so unlike him, John could not but be charmed to the point of his heart fluttering a bit.

“Let me try,” Sherlock intoned, low and lower in his velvety voice that never failed to bring a tingle to the back of John’s neck. “It’s an order.”

What could John do but what he’d been told? He resettled his pillow as his slurry-voiced, wild-haired beloved sank low and lower in the little metal bed.

Sherlock heaved a great sigh, forehead weighty against the palm of his right hand while he tried to steady the left enough to dip his pen into the pot of ink on his desk.

“Oh. Watson,” he whispered through a dry mouth, tongue fat and sticky with the previous night’s liquour-leavings and that morning’s rushing bile. What was left of the bottle of Scotch whisky he had pressed into the hand of one of the younger footmen with an order to pour it out on the ground behind the stables and never let it return to his sight. Doubtless the boy had smuggled it back to his own bedroom, to share later with other young men during late-night cards games, but the importance of never smelling or seeing it again outweighed Sherlock’s insistence on obedience from the staff.

“Watson. Oh.” He set down his pen across the page of his ledger book, its figures swimming in front of hazy eyes. “This is a valuable lesson.”

“For you, it certainly seems to be,” John replied, trying to hide his amusement behind his sympathy for Sherlock’s sorry state.

“I’ve been stealing into the rooms with the fewest windows, avoiding the glare from every pane. Must it be so bright?” The last he asked in a tone of indignity.

“The sun? I’m afraid it can’t be helped. Natural order of things.” John bit down on a grin. “Anyway, I brought you this.” John set down a cup of lemonade he’d concocted, generous with both lemon and sugar, and with a bruised sprig of mint pushed down into it. Beside it, a tin of ginger sweets.

“Never,” Sherlock moaned, and touched his midsection.

“It helps,” John told him. “You’re neither the first nor the last; you’ll survive it.”

“I cannot imagine that could possibly be true.”

“Back to bed?”

“Absolutely not, I’ve a house to run.” Sherlock sat up straight and though he looked pale and not a little sweaty, he took up the lemonade and sipped.

John gave a small smile, and acquiesced. “Yes, Mr Holmes.”

#2019 Advent Ficlet Challenge #ficlet #Dawn Before the Rest of the World series #writing

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turquoisedays · 4 years

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Grimscribe Aesthetic Meme

REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG AND DO NOT DELETE THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION.

The following quotes and phrases are taken from the stories in Thomas Ligotti’s anthology Grimscribe. Some of these quotes were slightly tweaked for the sake of this meme. If you enjoy the imagery or writing in this meme, please support the author by purchasing his work. Content warnings for horror in general and brief mentions of blood, gore, nihilism, unreality, body horror, clowns, and insects.

Bold what applies to your muse.

Tagged by: Me, myself and I, because I’m ALWAYS A SLUG FOR THOMAS LIGOTTI.

Tagging: @choujin @mothersins @flowerytruth (You decide which muse! >:3c) @givealls (For Kazuma mayhap?) annnnnnnd my other blog.

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The Last Feast of Harlequin

A place behind the clownish mask / an enthusiastic urgency / sunny fields and farms / steeply roofed houses / a weird distortion of perspective / an album of old snapshots / a pointed hat jauntily askew / a billboard displaying a group of grinning vegetables / a neutral, bureaucratic voice / blue-green ink / a brilliant and profound circus of learning / a quotation from Poe’s “The Conqueror Worm” / a feeling of frigid numbness / dull, earth-colored scenery / the snowfalls of late autumn / black, ragged clumps of abandoned nests / the thin light of a winter afternoon / poles raveled with evergreen / holly wreaths / green lights / green streamers / peacock green floodlights / an eerie emerald haze / chthonic divinities / miniature candy canes / colored lights that bloom out of flower-shaped sockets / a chilling brilliance of manner and expression / sea-green lights / the face of an adept clown / a heart bathed in green / another coldness within the cold / warmly wrapped bodies and green-scarved necks / worried and guilt ridden glances / a wormy mass / the black void of winter / the brightness of an artificial spring / a great green rainbow / green gleaming streets / the dark immensity of a winter night / an effect of stricken horror and despair / an inhuman likeness more proper to something under the earth than above it / a festival within a festival / depressingly pallid clowns / the particular kind of hatred of resulting from some powerful and irrational memory / optimistic greenery in a period of gray dormancy / a kind of obnoxious intelligence / freezing atop an icy throne / commitment to a meaningful mania / bodiless invisibility / seeing without being seen / a sea of zigging and zagging celebrants / the darkness of narrow country roads / innocent normalcy / icy wind / trembling with cold / lanterns that beam with dazzling and frosty light / cadaverous clowns / the apex of darkness / a long snowy robe / moody malignancy / pure unlived lives / all the many shapes of death and dissolution / a dirge for existence / a sea of thin, bloodless faces / icy beauty / a moment of frozen trance / the death known to those whom the gods have first made mad / the welcoming glow of green / slow and silent and entrancing / a velvety white abyss / the paradise of the unborn

The Spectacles in the Drawer

A double-handled dagger with a single blade of polished stone / tall cabinets / ceiling-high shelves / tantalizing arcana / glistening fog / a tedious clarity / a cyclone of strange patterns and colors / spasms of sardonic hilarity / a pale-blue blade / stiff, crackling pages / a seeker of recondite knowledge / undying hope / a gutful of shame and regret / a small and silvery knife / a razor-sharp letter opener / a pair of old-fashioned wire-rimmed spectacles / everything that fascinates / the wish to look away / an infinite and overwhelming scene / the dazzling diffusion of all known universes / landscapes without end / landscapes that are themselves alive / a life unknown to mortal eyes / form and motion / design and dimension / cilia wriggling / mammoth shapes lurching in outline / an obscure oceanic niche / a mere fragment of all that there is to see and to know / labyrinthine astronomies / constant transformations of both appearance and essence / a witness to the most cryptic phenomena that exist or could ever exist / the ultimate thing waiting to be born / still greater visions / a cataclysm which will be both the beginning and the end / unbearable anticipation / ecstasy and dread / the ultimate source of all manifestation / the absolute and the wholly unknown / a revolution of all matter and energy / the visions remaining active inside you, deep in your blood / to be dazzled in the worst way / the total substance of things / an occultist auction / a disreputable quarter of a foreign city / a student of the Gnostics / artificial eyes / a malicious aim to undermine / a child’s awkward embrace / rusty scales / cockeyed bookcases / broken toys / standing ashtrays / desolate bazaars / the charm of disenchantment / a tilting mirror / a climate of dull horror / sinister whispers that make no sense yet seem filled with meaning / sensations of infinite expansiveness and ineffable meaning / astronomical emotions / a mutilated carcass / something of terrible rawness / a torn and flayed thing / microscopic precision / twitching and quivering like a gory heart / hellish giggling / a haunting, lifelong memory / unfathomable depths of feeling / to suffer over and over / a way to kill a dream / the sheltering shadows of one’s home / sobering shadows / a cold and stagnant peace / esoteric ecstasy / vulgar pain / a broad expanse of empty field / a mosaic of mirrors / a shocking galaxy / redundant reflections / dark stars on a silvery firmament / to see with countless eyes / a body ripped raw / a gallery of glass and gore

Flowers of the Abyss

The first rank scent of autumn / a glass of water / a thirsty walker of the woods / a pale flower amongst the dark summer trees / a ghostly flower of autumn / grayish planks / a pallid lily / a pulpy toadstool / a roof of rippling shingles shaped like scales from some great fish / sea-green and sparkling / attic gables with paned windows / the tip of a tear / hundreds of raindrops / light rain / an icy autumn storm / a fragrance damp and decayed / walking ahead of the clouds / the echo of hollow words / a long crooked arm / malodorous gardens of misshapen growths / an oval mirror in an ornate frame / cobwebbed corners / tilting books / something shapeless and nameless / something dampish and submerged / something swampy and abysmal / the pure cold of an autumn storm / a dusty green bottle / a sparkling glass / a world of frozen light / cool and limpid water / the hardness of a jewel / a small music box / stars of sound / twilight shadows and silence / infinitesimal flakes of light / barren decor of dead days / yellowish haze / silvery tones / a tenebrous expanse / unknown exploits / the madness of things / a vagabond of the universe / a drifter among spaces / a mess of hacked pieces / dark horizon meeting dark horizon / a universe of darkness / a convulsing tangle of shapes / the radiant entrails of hell / rain-softened soil / parted waters rushing to remerge / corrupt waters / sticky and pumping veins / slimy tendrils / aberrations of the abyss / a night-gowned figure / a crowd carrying lights / lamps and lanterns bobbing in darkness / clusters of flames / buried like a forgotten dream

Nethescurial

Delicate, crinkly script / greenish-black discoloration / dark waters / moonlit skies / earth mounds / mountain peaks / northern leaf and southern flower / each star and the voids between them / blood and bone / watchful winds / murky waters below / contorted rock formations / pointed pines and spruces of gigantic stature / sea-facing cliffs / stagnant fog / an omnipresent evil / a sleeping sense of doom awakened into full vigour / evil, beloved and menacing evil / sunshine and flowers / darkness and dead leaves / some shaping force of demonic temperament / wartlike hills / tumorous trees / oil lamps scattered about / a sacral glow / a degree of mutual ease / the verdigris of centuries / decomposing jade / pandemonism / cold gray waters / a mere mask for the foulest evil / an absolute evil whose reality is mitigated only by our blindness to it / the universe as a dream / the feverish nightmare of a demonic demiurge / an abstract monster of metaphysics / an altar of coarse stone / skinny shadows / to be actually bound in blackness / white-faced shadows / luminous smoke / glowing, ectoplasmic haze / something thick and oily and strangely colored / an ancient anonymity / spirits beyond all hope or consolation except in the evil to which they would abandon themselves / a ceremony of the chosen / an ancient, darkened mould / petrified lichen / wrought iron tracery / great overgrown gardens of writhing coral / a chaos of little carvings / a world of demonic faces and forms / oneiric visions / inkish waters / an infinitely extensive body of evil / the gods of the ordinary world / dream-induced illusions / visionary intrusions / a banquet of fear / what is squirming beneath every surface / penetrating the usual armor of objects / dark and greenish / garbled whisperings / an island of grass and trees in the middle of the city / globes of light balanced on slim metal poles / a glowing orb / set in the great blackness above / trees swishing overhead / muddied green / walking some indefinite time along some indefinite route / strings of colored lights / a tall, illuminated booth / clownish creatures / expressionless faces and dead puppet eyes / slow, monotonous phrases mingling like the sequences of a fugue / the faces of the living and the dead / wind-blown trees / the greenish darkness of the night / mold-colored smoke / a squirming, creeping, smearing shape / a great deformed crab / the black oceans of infinity / the island of the moon / the cancerous totality of all creatures / oozing ichor / dying in a nightmare

The Dreaming in Nortown

A solitary perdition / a mind to remember the stages of their downfall / a mirror to multiply their abject glory / a memoir of dreams / peculiar powers of sympathy / a decaying and spacious apartment / an ill-mapped world of dreams / a slightly infernal aroma / an acrid combination of tobacco and autumn nights / a small red glow / a long threadbare overcoat / many pungent Octobers / the remote heights or depths of an artificial paradise / the stumbling words of a returning explorer / a stuporous and awed voice / midnight assemblies / in the grip of strange mystical ecstasies / long red hair / esoteric development / a general tenor of chaos / a quality which may or may not make for good company but which always offers promise of the extraordinary / a contrived noisiness / a strange catalogue of sounds / low moans emanating from the most shadowy chasms of dream / sudden intakes of breath / the suction of a startled gasp / abrupt snarls and snorts of a bestial timbre / expressions of unknown turmoil / the calm darkness of the night / staccato groans / the entire audible spectrum of nightmare-inspired terror / mingling overtones of awe and ecstasy / a willing submission to some unknown ordeal / the deeper registers of somnolence / the smell of a freshly lit cigar / the dun colors of dawn / a flood of eidetic horrors / fleeting scenes of nightmare / a reverberating slam / a note scrawled upon a slip of paper / a disproportionate anxiety / the imagined threat of a reprimand / the frayed end of a disciplinary whip / colors twisting in blackness / a tentacled abyss / bone-colored stars / a dream-distorted voice / a spiral notebook with a cover of mock marble / mystical masochism / feats of occult daredevilry / glimpsing the inferno with eyes of ice / a doomed determinism / the striving for horrific dominion over horror itself / wobbling glitter / a field of venomous colors / the glistening inner skin of deadliest nightshade / the entrancing fragrance of fear / the city’s lurid glamor / cryptic badges whose significance is known only to the initiated / comic colors from an electric spectrum / a chilly autumn evening / engraved brass / dingy neon / a black autumn sky / scattering sparks across the sidewalk / flea-market antiquities / calling feline-voiced / colorful chaos / neon signs streaming across the night / clothed in flashing colors / a many-hued phantasmagoria / a flickering and disorderly rainbow of dreams / a multitude of indecisive thoughts and impulses / a brick and neon landscape / a frigid and fragrant October night / darkness and a voice / a coarse scream / a pulsing opalescent aura / a delirious blend of images derived from nightmare / an ominous sunrise over a dark horizon / a field of fear / a painfully lush iridescence / a burnt-out patch of earth / newspapers mutilated by time / two fresh cigars / a thin book-like box / a scene from some Boschian hell / a hideous series of transfigurations / the screaming mass of a damned soul / an abyss of nightmares / explorations in a hell of one’s own choosing

The Mystics of Muelenburg

Trees made of poster board / houses built of colored foam / mud and dust and ashes / a nightmare of nonsense / fantasy, that misty domain of pure meaning / dim and empty storage space / an ancient armchair / reposing far beneath crumbling rafters / surveying remote worlds / a burst of fireworks / buzzing like flies in the blackness / glow worms flitting in the blinding sun / to keep the sun in the sky / to keep the dead in the earth / a universal vice / a parasite of chaos / a maggot of vice / the prospect of absolute terror / men in the mouths of demons / withholding heaven’s light / the pointed shadows of peaked roofs and jutting gables / faded artifacts of a dead town / high castle turrets / grayness undisturbed / ashen twilight / the yellow light of lamps / sumptuous chambers / humble rooms / the lost luxury of shadows / an infinite vault of glowing dust / a deception by demons / old deities formerly driven from the earth / shadows streaming horribly / the twitching light of a thousand candles / prismatic jewels / a greyish whirlpool / indefinite twilight / the blackness which is the domain of death / necromantic learning / drunken dialogues / unparalleled credulity / fluidity, always fluidity / an ornamented void / the stars and moon / the legions of the dead

In the Shadow of Another World

Walking down streets at twilight / watered lawns / the edges of leaves / pale specters within a fog / the infinite sky itself / gently stirring trees / old silent houses / strange cities disguised as clouds / the depths of a vast, echoing abyss / a blurry little window with a crack in it / a tree-lined street / a pale sky at dusk / peaks and porches / worn wooden steps / dreams and vapor posing as solid matter / a fabulous overlap of properties / petrified flesh / gigantic bones from great beasts of old / chimneys and shingles / a shadow on the horizon / a thing of nightmarish beauty / impossible hopes / a kind of ceremonious desolation / translucent festivals / the faraway sounds of mad carnivals / an instinct for mystification / dubious spectacles / trumped-up histrionics / immaculate to the point of being suspect / a plush and well-tended mausoleum / where the dead are truly at rest / oppressive awareness of other times / secret conspiracies with departed spirits / the unnatural mood of twilight / sinister echoes / dark, polished floors / lofty, uncobwebbed ceilings / a malign presence in the cellar / an insane shadow in the attic / thaumaturgic curios / a hermetic chant of the heavens / no hint of hauntedness / an innocent ambiance / a spiritual wasteland / spiritually antiseptic surroundings / a twisting and tenuous stairway / shattered panes of glass / misshapen glyphs / the shadowy nuances of clouds / a twisted kaleidoscope of colors / the aura of stained-glass cathedral / some obscure desecration / prismatic lenses / that of the dead or the demonic / an eclipse of this world’s vision / a quivering translucence / iridescent sterility / the aftermath of a strange exorcism / neither hallowed nor unholy / a pristine laboratory / a science of nightmares / a small, lamplit library / night’s darkness / a voice that’s accustomed to speaking of miracles / mystical freakshows / a grave sincerity / dissonant overtones of fear / the shadows of another world / forms of specter or demon / the eyes of the flesh / a luminous hell / psychic survival / hopelessly dreaming / terror recollected in tranquility / mazy trauma / the sensations of the soul / a monstrous mystery / a theoretician of nightmares / crude and cryptic designs / a remote and shadowy stage / an adept of pasteboard visions / mucilage and gauze / pulling the strings of light and shadow / shadows gathering / a strange radiance / phosphorescent panes / superlunary light / some cosmic tapestry / a haunted world / the marriage of insanity and metaphysics / a spectral ontogeny / a pageant of nightmares / sunlit bazaars in exotic cities / transparent masks / insectoid countenances / moonlit streets in antique towns / a strange-eyed slithering / dim galleries of empty museums / a ghostly mold / the sullen hues of old paintings / sticky luxuriance / pulpy warmth / an uncanny flux of sounds / cadaverous generations / sculptures of human coral / bodies heaped and unwhole / limbs projecting without order / eyes scattered and searching the darkness / a monument to Terror / a maze of interconnecting doors / spectral monstrosities / the cover of masks / the concealment of stones / feverish properties and intentions / a framed phantasmagoria / grotesque transfigurations / a systemless cosmogony / the caprice of the immaterial / weirdly lucent rooms / chaotic fantasies / narrow, spiraling stairs / the gazing eye of some god / a pyrotechnic craze of colors / a vibrating echo of vocal utterance / swirling sights / a vacuum and a void / doubtful strategies / unknown and extravagant possibilities / occult theories / arcane analyses / the irreducible certainty of nightmare / great shadows in the stars / an infinite catastrophe / protective sigils / the full glare of starlight / stars and shadows / privileged arcana / the enchantments of hell / cold sunlight / the visionary time of twilight

The Cocoons

A gloved hand twitching / a rather unapologetic tone / egg-shaped pills / a half-glass of water / a soft grinding noise / a quietly urgent voice / blotched vapors / a growl of exasperation / unpeopled avenues / a mass of shadows / a landscape without pattern or substance / the moon shining / a doubtful glance / a devastated plain / an open field heaped with debris / bits of glass and scraps of metal / lunar spaciousness / a skeletal structure with all markings of identity scraped off its bones / a densely tangled nest of houses / the dull light of the moon / a yellowish swatch of illumination / high wooden fences / a ruined turret grazed by moonlight / a minor mania / a cobwebbed corner / a blank battered wall / warped floor moldings / a watery light / the quivering light of candles / an old-fashioned film projector / the whirring of a projector / a visual record of a scientific experiment / dark wiry appendages / a pair of slender snapping pincers / tiny translucent wings / glistening but useless / malicious eyes / a dubious look / candles flickering like fire-flies / a cold swamp of shadows / a collection of bones / dazed silence / a clockwork world / sunrise schedules / lunar routines / a pandemonium of forces / a phantasmagoria of possibilities / the shadow of a laugh / a curious hedonism that can’t be controlled / the vagaries of omnipotence / breeder of indulgence / languorous exhaustion / a psychic matter / unheard of habits / a clown’s oversized grin / bliss on the brink of apotheosis / a universal process of transfiguration / restless skittering / a pitiful delight / giddy pride / demoniac undercurrents / the grotesque ultimatums of creation

The Night School

A high, full moon shining among the spreading clouds / shadows singing with the clouds / a slowly flowing mass of mottled shapes / a kind of unclean outpouring / the black sewers of space / the wall of night / smoke, dense and dirty, rising up to the sky / the spastic flames of a small fire / a slender gentleman / a dark suit / broken bones / the process of degeneration / the mulchy rot of autumn or early spring / yellowish light / dark scabby bricks / ruined factories / ravaged mausoleums / abandoned orphanages / a blossom of the cemetery or the cesspool / guttering candles / blurred remnants of past lessons / cloacal forces / time as a flow of sewage / drowning in the pools of night / a thousand molting autumns / the melting soil of spring / a pair of yellowish eyes / undiluted darkness / a darkness far greater than the night itself / consolidated darkness / the science of a spectral pathology / a philosophy of absolute disease / the metaphysics of things sinking into a common disintegration or rising together / dark rottenness / filthy smoke from some smoldering source of expansive corruption / the scent of corruption / the nostalgic perfume of autumn decay / the feculent muskiness of a spring thaw / smoky blackness / the offal of worlds in decline / the dark compost of those about to be born / the primeval impurity In which all things are founded / native putridity / pieces of paper with strange symbols on them / the very face of a plague—pustulant, scabbed, and stinking terribly / a black fog / many voices crying and calling from total blackness / tightly packed earth in a grave / the disease of the night / bright flames / the noise of a fire and the wind / a full moon / shining bright and blurry / a luminous mold / the great sewers of night

The Glamour

A fine aura of fantasy / both blurred and brightened / a starless evening / diamonds of plate glass / old buildings of dark brick / the display window of a toy store / a chaotic tableau of preposterous excitation / mechanized monkeys / fated antics / tiny cymbals / the destined pirouettes of a music-box ballerina / a newly sprung jack-in-the-box / strangely picturesque / dreamily illuminated / sculptured frosting / a winter landscape of swirling, drifting whiteness / snowy rosettes / layers of icy glitter / a glacial kingdom / a brilliant arctic scene / a vitality of enterprise / a glossy light / the placidly enigmatic expressions of a different time / faded lighting / an old photograph / the kind of acute anticipation that a child might experience at a carnival / a possessing impulse without object / wretchedly aglow / a long, narrow corridor with a single light set far into its depths / a strange shade of purple, like that of a freshly exposed heart / a purple lamp / arterial light / a deep pink / a richly blooded brain / a beating heart / wispy shrouds / sparse hairs sticking to the scalp of an old corpse / purple-tinted glass / the darkness of a theater / a swarm of filaments / an elaborate chandelier / a sickly, liverish shade / an operating room where a torso lies open on the table / a palette of pinks and reds and purples / diseased viscera imitating all of the shades of sunset / headstones in a graveyard / endless filthy alleys / long desolate corridors in an old asylum / the dripping passages of a sewer / a dust-blinded window / a dark unvisited cellar / a mirror gone rheumy with age / facets of murky crystal / cobwebs / long pale threads / hazy purple light / the slow curling of thin smoke / a great rectangular web / the ever-mutating images of clouds / a surge of dark elation / a sudden chill announcing bad weather / a vibrant presence / an expression of avid malignance / inner webbings / swirling fibers / wild shocks of twisting hair / a portrait of atrocity / lust for sites and ceremonies of mayhem / writhing cobwebs / reaching tendrils / graveyards and alleyways / a joyous hysteria / a pale purple / sinister and seamy regions / spectral ambiance / all pervasive purple coloration / the labyrinth of a living anatomy / palest pink / a purple light / putrid chambers and cloisters / an infernal land / fleshy, gelatinous integuments / translucent tissue / the theater of a mad surgery / hair-thin sutures / unseen hands designing unnatural shapes and systems / weaving a nest in which possession would take place / the weaver and web-maker / an old puppet-master / setting a helpless creature with new strings / through eyes unknown / purple shadows / a type of degraded rapture / a seizure of debauched panic / webs of hair / great evil / an appeal for deliverance / eyes that would see what should not be seen / stray threads pulled from a sleeve or pocket / a paralytic silence / eyes gazing fierce and malignant / a purple glow / two shafts of the purest purple light / an old woman with glowing eyes

Father Sevich’s Visit

A manner at first vaguely troublesome and afterward rather attractive / the arrival of a priest / the very echoes of the air / mellow afternoon sunlight / dark wooden floors / pale contortions of ancient wall paper / invisible games / abstract dread and a bizarre sort of indebtedness / a thick maze of propositions / a well-made bed / a relentless failure / cloistral tunnels / vaulted penetralia / a single column-clutching hand / the necessary features of fear / a maddening task / a series of completely irrelevant expressions / misty-eyed wonder / cretinous bafflement / smiling in an almost amiable way at one one’s impending doom / the trap of expectation / a sleepy whisper / the sound of soft conversation / the world of good manners and polite talk / a look of incompleteness / some unfinished effigy in a toy maker’s workshop / something vital to expression / the purple-robed mysteries of priesthood / animated eyes / withered things reeking of medicine and prayer / a painfully delicate subject / varnished wood / salvation through suffering / sacred horrors / the divine destiny toward which the paths of anguish have always led / volumes of blessed agony / an attitude of prayerful pleading / torturing demons / a single squatted devil / bristling lashes that sprout like weeds / an explosion of miniature grotesquerie / a brief and calculated absence / a modest fund of moral energy / a macabre icon / profane lessons / a countenance of true terror / a ridiculously empty slate / an off-stage atrocity / a cycle of mute, incredible lore / anthropomorphic mist / an eerie lividity / unconscious hours of darkness / a chronicle of truly unspeakable things / the light of every constellation in the visible universe / the oppressive mysteries of the autumn season / thick orange crayons / black cats / black paper / a hopeless urge for innovation / a tiny white collar / dripping with fever / hat and cloak and walking stick / narrow, nocturnal streets / a fairy-tale vision / serpentine lanes / the distorted glow of street lamps / the thinnest blade of moon / a narrow niche / an unpaved lane / a small courtyard surrounded by high walls / the stars above / jaundiced lamplight / a stairway of cut stone / the earth and absolute blackness / tiny lights glimmering like stars / clouds of shadows / some golden metal / a caricature of serenity / a hand as white as the whitest glove / chaotic rays / underworld starlight / a certain expression of rarefied scorn or disgust / indignant shadows / black, ankle-high shoes / the natural nightlight of the moon / an infernal aura or an angelic halo / a planet revolving its unspeakable tonnage in the blackness of space / a small bottle of holy water / secret denial and privilege / a smile of deep contentment

Miss Plarr

Misty, drizzling days / sharp, urgent rappings at the front door / a world of darkening mist / mist-covered locks / listening with intense expectancy / the world’s chaos of faces / a seething luxuriance / dark battlements of clouds / a mute and sullen twilight / a stone-gray sky / those days all shackled in gloom / a fugue of noise / the livid radiance of moonlight / the wild shape of some night-blossom / some strange and cruel kingdom / an intimate dungeon cell reserved for the most exclusive captivity / constant, noisy marauding / sedentary or stealthy rituals / an abyss of unspoken reproaches and suspicions / some ancient seagoing vessel / an old oil lamp / a series of quite fascinating lectures / a kind of brutality and an air of exile / deliriums of earth and sky / fog-bound islands in polar seas / shadowed realms littered with dead cities / peaks lacerated by unceasing winds / a bluish slime / the proper way to behave / the great mists of spring / murky sheets of ice / a world of shadows bound in place / the sound of something that stings the air / the hissing of rainy afternoons / immense blades sweeping over vast spaces / expansive wings cutting through cold winds / long whips lashing in darkness / intangible sympathies / a dark mesh of nightmares / a foul nest in which one’s own suspicions are swarming / links to a strictly mundane order / a briskness that seems to be an effort / a heavy spring dampness / lost to the world of wholesome practicalities / a hypnotic and fateful determination / a child’s weakness for prospects of misadventure / a fog-smothered landscape / a pale, floating web / an immense and awful kingdom / a patternless conglomerate of crystals / a misty graveyard / angular and many-faced monuments / the mountainous and murky thunderheads of a rainy season / the very essence of a storm / a matter of suspicion and conjecture / atrocious potential / fogs and mists and gray heaping skies / a conspicuous stridency / a dour mystique / a gray mist / skies of hissing rain

The Shadow At the Bottom of the World

Some feverish intent / sheaves of cornstalks standing brownish and brittle in a newly harvested field / a sky of empty light / fiery leafage / something dark, something abysmal / small shadowy voices / sweet wine turning to vinegar / a hysteric brilliance / displays of thorn apple, sumac, and towering sunflowers / crooked roadside fences / a moonlit field / a bright round moon / nocturnal solitude / patched-up overalls / worn flannel / the withered leaves of cornstalks / moonlight spread across a dead field / a great idol in shabby disguise / a sacred avatar out of season / fidgeting bemusement / a leaden vault of clouds / pure sunlight / misty dreams of the past night / a vine-twisted stone wall / dormant vines / a strange network of dead veins / calculated grayness / radiant leaves / legions of local cicadas / a dark fungus / of the blackest earth / a rich loam / a bog of shadows / an abyss in the outline of a man / the feel of wind and water / a few shifting flames / flames of only the slightest warmth / black flames / the molten texture of spoiled fruit / a shriveled scarecrow / an armory of axes, shovels, and other implements / an eccentricity of the harvest / a viscous mire / innumerable insects laughing / sprouting blackness / a perverse reluctance / the great shadow of a moonless night / the dark rustling depths of the season / the glass globes of streetlamps / the dense leaves of elms and oaks and maples / blazing auras / the frigid aurora of dawn / frost-powdered earth / shadows and corn shocks / countless insects chattering unseen / the feverish life of the earth / the wrinkled grimace of decay / corrupted by vile impulses / a mound of soft dirt / the darkish grooves of ancient bark / the mottled complexion of old flesh / a multitude of crooked smiles / a freakish mask painted with russet, rashy colors / a virulent intensity / an autumn night when fields lay ragged in moonlight / moist and fertile shadows / a hollow-eyed howling malignity / the cold emptiness of space / the pale gaze of the moon / the depths of an extraordinary harvest / insecure hints and delvings / the luxuriant shadow of trees / the mocking plumage of a strange season / an array of whims and suspicions / scraps of lush color / gold and crimson hieroglyphs / deathless leaves / an ill-formed village / a hideous impersonation of a face / leprous masks / knotty shadows / a subterranean craze of roots and tendrils / an underworld riot of branching convolutions / gnarled ornamentations / autumnal decay / knives and axes and curving scythes / countless colored leaves / pronouncements of dire or delightful curiosity / a dull trance / a wild luminousness / a diamond-bright fever burning within / perennial strangeness / tenacious foliage / softly glowing against a black sky / an untimely nocturnal rainbow / a harvest of hues / peach gold / pumpkin orange / honey yellow / winy amber / apple red / plum violet / the pyrotechnics of a new autumn / a thousand glittering dreams / a rigid scarecrow / a patchwork of shadows / a quivering glow / a premature craving / an expertly whetted blade / a betrayal or deception on the part of creation itself / something buried deep within appearances / something that wears a mask to hide itself / holding a spatula like a weapon / moldering shadows / a dreamless sleep / a sudden rage of mortification / the remains of a dismantled scarecrow / an ashen autumn morning / the feeling of blood / a bottomless grave

#meme response #this took a bit but >:0 i enjoyed it #gore tw just to be safe?#blood tw also to be safe #horror cw #nihilism tw #unreality tw #clowns tw ////

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