#sewer dinner party

[toskarin]

imagine: you're having dinner with your family, introducing them to your new consort, mohg, lord of blood. he's found time in his busy magic schedule to visit and you're so happy.

you're all laughing at a story about his experiences in the sewers with the rest of the omens when your mother suddenly proposes to him. you think it's a joke, but she's serious. the mood is tense, the silence heavy. just when it seems the night may never recover, the albinauric enters the room and the party is made mirthful once again.

[callooopie]

Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon headcannons (pt. 1)

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — Brooklyn Baby // Lana Del Rey

I look away from my TV for one second only to look back and see Jacaerys mewing at me while a deadly and violent war is being discussed

You meet at a college party. Definitely. He looks like a party girl. Jace Targaryen(?) (Targaryen? or perhaps Strong in this modern world? Certainly not Velaryon, as I would assume Rhaenyra would have a choice of who she married in this world) gives off either reliable fratboy energy, or kind and quiet student you sit by in your class (He shows you his notes if you missed something. He gives you his number too—just in case you had questions!) Is the type to silently sneak glances at you during lectures. Maybe you even catch him staring once?

Meeting his family is.. overwhelming. On one hand it’s big. Like really big, a little confusing sometimes. On the other hand? Why’s everyone so hot? What are these genes?! His mom, his dad, his half-family members, his friends?!?! You’re sitting there at the family function like ?!?!

Speaking of family—he’s a big family guy. He loves his mom and his dad, he adores his brothers, he tolerates his half-uncles and whatnot. Jacaerys shows you to his mother in her office, and to his father doing work around the house. I believe he would be the type to wrangle and line up his brothers for you and go down the line introducing them. “This here’s Luke, aaand little Joffrey. They shouldn’t give you any trouble—Joffrey’s a little brat though..”

(Joffrey runs up to you and tells you to say skibidi gyat rizz before running off in a fit of giggles—) “…yeah—sorry ‘bout that. He’s in a phase right now..”

When you first meet his mom and dad as only “Jace’s friend” (Rhaenyra and Harwin.. </3) they are ecstatic to meet you. They think you’re lovely! Hip!—is that what the kids are saying these days? Rhaenyra has a knowing look on her face as Jacaerys reminds her that you’re only a “friend” and Harwin goes along like “Oh yeahhh… Jace’s friend.. riiiight” (the label of friend was gone in a week at most. Instead of “Jace’s friend” you were now “Jace’s girlfriend/boyfriend”) his parents saw it coming a mile or two away they weren’t surprised. And they hope you come around more often for dinners and things.

Jace is in a band (with Davos OOP) and Cregan (this dude.. graduated like a year or two before them and they all still hang out?), along with a few others. What? Oh yeah—they do little gigs and stuff. He plays bass, kinda the glue of the team if you catch his drift.. it’s tough work but anything to pursue musical passion right? (“Band practice” consists of smoking weed and watching shitty YouTube videos in a garage. They can and do play though so.. you guess it works?)

If you tag along with that merry bunch.. please know you’re babysitting now (mainly Jace and Davos. Cregan disappears but reappears when needed most—“kinda his thing”) think of the most stupidest thing two college-age guys could do… and go stupider. Breaking into abandoned buildings, arson, meeting the most suspicious plugs in the pitch black woods or sewers. Not how you’d imagine your Friday night to be spent but here you are. “This guy said he had something CRAZY.. and only for $20–that’s a deal in today’s economy.”

That’s his silly side. Normal every Jacaerys is serious. It’s almost a little off-putting. He’s very reserved as well, although with you there’s some cracks in that stoic facade. He’s the type to have a smile tug on his lips if you take a “sneaky” video or photo of him. Maybe while you both are in a study room and you just need something for a Snapstreak or insta story. Who else should be caught on camera than Jace as he’s deep into a textbook, twirling a pen between his fingers while swiveling side to side in a chair. “Hm? ..what’re you looking at girly? ..me? Pfft—shut up..”

I believe Jace would be the type to have a wide range of music he listens to. Only him. From alternative indie to folk to heavy metal to edm. He’s got range, he’s got tastes. He totally has a vinyl collection (yes it’s by a window and yes there’s plants near it)

Outrageous closet. Not in a bad way, in a really really good way. Probably the best dressed man you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t work together for an outfit, work on him and only him (It’s like the Rhianna effect—an outfit looks ugly on someone else, but on Rhianna? It looks amazing. Iconic) the other way to describe his fashion sense is he dresses like a character from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. If there was an enemy stand user—it’d be Jacaerys.

His bedroom makes you believe in men again. It’s so nice, so cozy and smells so good. Blankets are always cooled, there’s just a sense of security around. HOWEVER. His pillows fucking suck. He’s the type to not replace anything like that unless absolutely necessary. They’re flat, dead, and make your hair slightly oily. He has a mountain of pillows but what good is that if they’re all lacking in support?! “I can open a window if y’want—it gets pretty hot in here sometimes. Hm? What’s up? My pillows? …it’s fine- they’re fine, look at them. You know how expensive-“

Everything bad about Davos’s car? Forget about it! Jace puts pride into his car. He cleans it regularly (Saturdays are for car deep cleaning, no exceptions) His parents did buy it for him for his 16th birthday. However he’s kept it in a very good condition so. Some stickers will be on the back, but it’s usually like “her body her choice” or “go for green energy” ..based Jace. (If perhaps Rhaenyra is a political figure in this modern world.. you bet your ass Jace is gonna have a campaign sticker for his mom on his car) “Just right over here is my car—lemme get your door. It’s okay if you get it dirty, I’ll just clean it… —although be careful—“

Speaking of cleaning his car—he will ask you to help him sometimes. Mainly in the summer, when you’re more likely to be wearing an outfit consisting of the smallest and tightest jean shorts and either a tank top or a bikini top. It’s a little hard to wash a car when he’s gripping the sponge tightly and letting his eyes rake down your body—what? No he wasn’t staring. He was looking at something past you. What’s that in his pants? See now you’re just being mean about it—

While Jacaerys partakes in a cigarette now and then, he’s more partial to alcohol. I feel he wouldn’t like the idea of smoking (It’s just things with lungs y’know? ..plus I don’t wanna die before that fucker Davos—“). Jace is a fiend with how he hoards bottles or drinks. Beers, hard alcohols, etc. Dude knows how to throw a whole bottle back like it’s nothing. He keeps a collection of empty bottles for fun (in his closet so his parents don’t find it) or if he lives alone they’re just freely out and around (or maybe still in the closet). “Whaaat? Slow down? Pfft—please, I’m good. Nah this is like water to me now. Have you ever had this?”

[vintagerpg]

REF4: The Book of Lairs II (1987) is an immediate correction of many of the mistakes of its predecessor, released blazingly fast thanks to a large pool of freelancers (Lairs I was written by just two folks, which goes a long way toward explaining its relative flatness). The selection of monsters is wider and weirder, and the locales more exciting. The one problem left uncorrected is the lack of art. Most of the art in the book is recycled from the Monster Manuals, which might actually be worse. I’d have honestly preferred maps.

A couple highlights. First is Jennell Jaquays’ frost giant encounter, which starts as a raid, changes into a pleasant dinner and then probably goes back to a raid. Nothing super surprising, but I like the way it keeps shifting gears over the course of a single page. Rick Swan’s got an encounter with brownies, who really just want to get back to their card game. My favorite, though, is Ed Greenwood’s trio of very clever otyughs, lairing in the city sewers. They display intelligence just slightly greater than animals, and Greenwood has them apply it in plausible ways that will challenge any party, especially if the GM excels at having the garbage monsters coordinate their tactics. Players’ll never see them coming.

[nreads]

See, I just don't accept A having that bad style. I think they just overcorrected after they realised they dressed up for the detective for a mission in a sewer. Because they don't have feelings for the MC, they decided to wear their usual grey shirt and cargo pants, and then realised they can't wear that when accompanying the detective to a dinner party and changed their top and then ran out of time / their brain short-circuited bc they couldn't decide whether to listen to their heart or their head.

I will do all the mental gymnastics in the world, but I will not accept A having a terrible sense of fashion. (y'all are 100% correct in dragging them, but I just can't accept this )

[andiwriteordie]

andi !! here’s a prompt that is so self indulgent but i know in my heart you would write so well!! mike and will in college in a big city, running to catch a late train home from dinner/a club meeting/an event. it was raining outside, they’re out of breath, will has crashed into mike from the momentum of being pulled inside the car, and mike’s got his arms wrapped around will and doesn’t seem to be too keen on letting go. (oh. and at a second glance— the car is deserted except for the two of them.)

hehehehehe okay this one was fun, and i flipped it just a teeny bit, but here you go my dearest suni <3 some modern byler in nyc together!

—

i get lost with you.

It’s raining outside.

It’s raining outside, because of course, it is, and Mike’s Converse are water-logged, and his socks are soggy and gross, and he’s completely soaked to the bone—so much so that he probably looks something like one of the sewer rats that New York City is so famous for. It’s raining outside, and look, rain definitely wasn’t in the forecast today, because Mike had checked—many, many times, thank you very much—before leaving his dorm this morning and making the three or so hour drive to Will’s place for their date.

Then again, Mike supposes he didn’t really pay much attention to what the weather would look like at nearly two in the morning. Truth be told, he’d expected the night to look a little bit different—that he and Will would go out for dinner at whatever place Will had decided on (since this is Will’s city, and he knows it far better than all the shitty travel websites Mike had been trying to look through), maybe walk around a little bit and do some sight-seeing (since Mike’s only been to NYC a few times and is nowhere close to being familiar with his boyfriend’s home), and then head back to to Will’s place for some much needed alone time (since it’s really a pain in the ass to go from seeing each other every single day over the summer to only seeing each other every couple of weeks). 

But then tonight, things hadn’t exactly gone like how Mike had planned. Though, if Mike’s learned anything this year, it’s that sometimes the best things happen to him when life doesn’t go according to his plan.

(Will Byers? 

Not exactly part of Mike’s plan. 

Will Byers? 

Absolutely, without a doubt, the best thing that’s ever happened to Mike.)

So yeah, Mike’s vague plan to get dinner and sightsee for a few hours before going back to Will’s place had been all but thrown out the window in favor of a much more spontaneous, chaotic kind of evening, stretching into the darkest hours of the night. Honest to God, Mike doesn’t know how they ended up this far away from Will’s place in Manhattan, and it’s not really that reassuring when Will takes out his phone and pulls up the Maps app and sheepishly admits he doesn’t really know where the two of them are at. But at the same time, Mike can’t bring himself to care.

He hasn’t laughed this hard or had this much fun since—well, since camp earlier this summer, back when he was with Will and with the rest of the Party. College is great and all, and yeah, Mike has a handful of friends at Brown. But none of them are the Party, and none of them are Will. 

And truthfully, Mike feels most like himself when he’s around Will anyways, so that’s why it doesn’t matter that Mike’s Converse are water-logged, or that his socks are soggy and gross, or that he probably looks like one of New York City’s rats. 

All that matters right now is that he’s with Will—right where he belongs.

“Come on!” Will laughs, and he looks up from his phone, turning around to look back at Mike. There are rain droplets caught on his eyelashes, and his cheeks are a slight shade of pink, probably from running around the streets of Brooklyn or the Bronx or whatever the fuck burrough they’re in right now, because Mike lost track a while ago. “There’s a station right up there!”

“You said that a block ago,” Mike points out, unable to keep a cheeky grin off his face. Boyfriend or not, it’s still fun to see Will get a little riled up, and besides, Will looks really cute when he rolls his eyes.

(Mike would know. He’s an expert at making Will Byers’ eyes roll.)

Will indeed rolls his eyes, and then he narrows them slightly at Mike, playful and fond but also exasperated. “Sorry,” he says dryly. “I thought it was closer than it was.” 

“Yeah, well,” Mike replies easily, and he grins again as Will’s eyes narrow in suspicion, “I probably shouldn’t have trusted you to navigate us in the first place. God knows you have no sense of direction—”

“More than you!” Will huffs, spinning around and pushing on Mike’s chest lightly. There’s an offended look on his face, but he’s also clearly trying to hold back his smile. “I’m not the one who got his entire cabin lost in the woods for six hours—”

“That was one time, and I wasn’t even a counselor yet, so really, it was Jonathan’s fault—” 

“It was definitely more than one time,” Will interrupts, rolling his eyes again at Mike. There’s a smile tugging at his lips still and a fondness in his eyes that both seem to say, You’re an idiot, but you’re my idiot. 

And God, he looks beautiful, wrapped up in the windbreaker Mike’s glad now he grabbed on his way out this morning, ecause maybe a couple hours ago, Will had gotten chilly, and of course, Mike had given him the windbreaker without any hesitation. And honestly, it’s more to Mike’s benefit than it is Will’s because of the simple fact that Will Byers wearing his clothes is something that Mike’s not sure he’ll ever get over. 

“I don’t remember there being any other times,” Mike whispers back, just to be stubborn and just because it’s stil fun to tease Will like this, to get him riled up, to see if he’ll take the bait, to jump back into the push and pull that is their relationship.

Of course, it’s Will, and he takes the bait—because God forbid either of them let the other one have the last word. He narrows his eyes again, that playfully exasperated look stillon  his face, and he takes another step towards Mike, pressing on his chest lightly. 

“You got lost last summer in the woods with Dustin and El,” Will reminds, his voice low and teasing. “Lucas, Max, and I had to come find you and your campers. Remember?”

Rain continues to fall from the sky above them, and Will Byers stands right in front of Mike, with his playful little smirk and his rosy cheeks and his eyes full of a dare—challenging Mike to finish what he’s started, to join him in this dance of theirs, and to find an adequate enough quip to keep this argument going.

And truthfully, Mike can’t find it in him.

The rest of the argument’s there. The bantering’s there too. The playful back-and-forth, back-and-forth that they’re both so accustomed to—that’s all still there, buried somewhere in the back of Mike’s mind. But right now, Will Byers is right here, shivering a bit still from the cold and the rain, and his hand is still pressed gently against Mike’s chest, and he’s here, he’s here, he’s here.

And all Mike wants is for him to be closer.

It feels natural when Mike reaches his own hand up, curling his fingers around Will’s wrist. The touch is still like electricity, even now, and Will must think so too, because his breath catches as Mike pulls him closer and kisses him—slowly, carefully, deliberately. 

Will’s lips are slick with rain water, and the faint taste of the strawberry ice cream he’d ordered a couple hours ago lingers still. With his free hand, Mike reaches out towards Will, wrapping his arm around his waist and pulling him close, close, close but still not close enough. Immediately, Will’s other hand reaches up to cup Mike’s face, and his fingers are gentle but freezing against Mike’s cheek. 

The closer now that he is, the more Mike can notice just how much his boyfriend is shivering—an unfortunate reminder that, as much as he’d like to stay here in this moment with Will underneath the street lamps in some shady Brooklyn or Bronx or whatever neighborhood, the two of them should get out of the rain and go home.

“We should get going,” Mike mumbles, though he makes no effort to pull away. 

“Yeah,” Will whispers back, just as breathless as Mike feels right now, “we should.” 

He doesn’t move away either, still looking up at Mike with a softness in his eyes reserved only for Mike. The street lamp above them shines right on Will, casting him in a gentle, golden glow, and when he smiles again at Mike, less playful and more tender now, Mike feels a bit weak in the knees.

It’s funny in moments like these to think about everything that brought them here. All the chaos and the fighting and the drama that brought them here—to these little moments stolen for the two of them, where Mike looks and where all he can see is Will Byers. 

And maybe, just maybe, it’s too soon to tell… but Mike gets the feeling that moments like these are only the beginning for the two of them.

So, he leans forward, pressing another brief kiss against Will’s lips, before pulling away and smiling. “Come on,” Mike says softly, “we should get home.”

**

The subway station’s dark and empty, Mike counts at least two rats that scurry past them on their way down, and oh yeah, the train’s about to leave.

“Shit,” Will swears as the two of them make it down the last of the steps and catch sight of the subway doors closing. “Shit, shit, shit—”

And look… look, Mike’s only been to New York City a few times with his family, and God knows that they were not taking the subway on those trips to the city. His first time riding on one of New York's world famous subways was, in fact, just earlier today, and it’d been a rather harrowing experience, if Mike’s being honest. Will had definitely given him shit for it, but that’s nothing new.

Anyways, Mike’s experience with New York City and its public transit is fairly limited, but he knows the stupid subway system runs 24/7. If they miss this train, then that’s fine, because then, they can just wait here until the next one comes in.

All of that to say, Mike doesn’t really get why his boyfriend—his “used-to-be-on-the-track-team” and “doesn’t-get-breathless-chasing-after-six-year-olds-at-camp” boyfriend—is currently hauling ass towards the subway like the world will end if they don’t make it to the subway car this time. But whatever reason Will has for hauling ass towards the subway, Mike is getting dragged right alongside him—Mike, aka the “horrible-at-every-sport-but-especially-track” and “does-get-breathless-chasing-after-six-year-olds-at-camp” boyfriend in this relationship.

It’s great.

Somehow though, Mike manages not to trip over his own two feet, and he manages not to fall to certain death when Will pulls him into the subway car right as the door closes. The momentum does, however, send him crashing right into Will’s arms, and together, the two of them stumble backwards, barely able to stay upright until Will’s back hits the metal pole in the middle of the subway.

“Ow,” Will mutters with a wince, but still, his arms wrap around Mike, grounding him, holding him close, and steadying him. He’s still soaking wet—they both are—but not shivering as much as he was moments before. 

“Sorry,” Mike breathes. He doesn’t make an effort to pull away, because this time, he doesn’t need to. This time, they’ve got nowhere to be, and they’re no longer caught in the rain and the cold, so Mike can just be here. He can just enjoy this moment with his boyfriend.

Will blinks the rain droplets out of his eyes, and he gazes up at Mike, a small smile forming on his face. His arms are still wrapped around Mike’s waist, and he’s pinned up against the metal pole in the middle of the subway, Mike’s body flush against his own. Surprisingly, he’s just as breathless as Mike is, though Mike thinks it’s not from their little sprint into the subway car.

“‘S okay,” Will whispers back, resting his hand carefully against the small of Mike’s back. 

A beat passes.

There’s nobody else in the subway car, Mike notices. That’s a little surprising, especially for New York City, but hey, he’s not complaining here. Alone time with Will is something that’s awfully hard to come by—especially being in a long distance relationship—so Mike will take any time the two of them can get alone together that the universe is willing to give them. 

“You gonna let me go?” Will murmurs, his voice low and his expression teasing. That playful look from before has returned to his face, and he knows exactly what he’s doing, goading Mike back into their familiar back-and-forth, flirty dynamic. Will has Mike exactly where he wants him, or maybe Mike has Will exactly where he wants him. 

“Never,” Mike whispers back.

And then, without another moment of hesitation, Mike’s lips are crashing into Will’s, and his hands are cupped around Will’s face, pressing him back into that metal pole even more and keeping him right where Mike wants him. A small, muffled noise escapes Will’s lips in the briefest moment of surprise—to which Mike nearly has to laugh, because Will knew exactly what he was doing and really shouldn’t have been surprised. 

There’s something to be said about the way that kissing Will makes Mike feel—that even after all this time, a kiss from Will Byers would still feel like electricity, like a lightning strike during the middle of a storm, like every single one of Mike’s senses has been awakened and brought to life by the sheer proximity to Will. It’s no wonder that Mike so consistently has felt drawn to him, even in those years where he’d never admit it, and it’s no wonder that every single step towards Will Byers had sent Mike Wheeler careening towards a point of no return. 

Every single bad decision that’s brought him to this point just fades away, because Will is here, his body still a bit cold and damp just like Mike’s own, his arms pulling Mike closer to him and pressing the two of them together, his lips soft and warm and pressed against Mike’s—never once giving a moment of respite because that’s not Will. Because Will’s always kept Mike on his toes, always met every single challenge with one of his own, always pushed Mike and pulled Mike, and always made Mike better because of it. 

And in this moment, the rest of the world seems to disappear, the way everything always does when Mike is with Will. Everything about Will demands his attention simply because he’s Will, and his presence is intoxicating and magnetic, continually pulling Mike closer and closer and closer to him without any effort at all.

“You,” Will mumbles against their kiss, and he runs his hands underneath Mike’s shirt, causing Mike to shiver at his touch, “should come visit me more.”

It’s not a demand, because God knows that’s not Will either. For as long as Mike’s known Will, he’s known Will as the type of person who only asks for something when he  really wants it.

That fact causes a smugness and a warmth to bloom inside Mike’s chest, and he pulls back, just enough to breathe and to smirk at his boyfriend. “Should I?” he whispers.

A smile tugs at Will’s lips, and he rests his hand gently against the small of Mike’s back, pulling him closer still. “Yeah,” Will breathes, his voice low and raspy, “you should.”

He kisses Mike again now, slowly deepening the kiss with each moment that passes—and Mike hums, leaning into the kiss and running his thumb across Will’s cheek carefully.

“Okay,” Mike murmurs, his lips still lingering against Will’s, “but only because you asked so nicely.”

Will huffs out a little laugh, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. “And because you like me,” he teases back, and he adds, with a kiss between each word, “You. Like. Me. So. Much.”

This time, Mike can’t help but laugh, and he smiles back at Will as the two of them meet his eyes. 

Just like before, the argument’s there. The bantering’s there too. Their playful back-and-forth, back-and-forth—all of that is still there. Mike doesn’t think that’ll ever change. He hopes they never change.

But right now, all Mike can do is smile at his boyfriend and kiss him in an empty subway car in the middle of the night somewhere lost in New York City and whisper, “Yeah… I really do.”

[duckythetoddscout]

time with family

Turtle tots and post invasion whooo, already on ao3 :D was supposed to be very silly but ended up only a little silly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Title from Time With Family | RADWIMPS

Everyone knew about Leo’s childhood magazine photo collection of feet. It was weird but not weird considering he’d been collecting the photos since he was at least two and stopped when he was seven. 

The odd hobby was first discovered by Splinter and it went like this; Splinter was gathering his sons for dinner. Now, should he know where a one year old, two two year olds, and a three year old were?

Yes. And he did! Technically. There were only three places for them to be after all.

Raph was tasked with watching his brothers while their dad “borrowed” groceries and other supplies from the surface that day. Which meant at least Mikey and Raph were in the walkway coloring or having a tea party with Raphs plushies in the family's shared bedroom. 

Donnie would no doubt be trying to make something by tearing apart something else. Leo would either be bothering his brothers or waiting for Splinter as close to the entrance as he could get without getting in trouble. 

(So far Leo had made it right to the edge and was able to peek behind the makeshift curtain into the tunnel. Not that Splinter knew that since he always retreated back before Splinter made it to the curtain. He worried about his dad every time he left. They used to go with Splinter but hadn’t in a long time. Leo liked being able to hear Splinter’s familiar approaching steps. He had to get close to the curtain to be able to hear them.)

The walkway was just a concealed slab of concrete that led to two rooms, their bedroom and a bathroom (the bathroom being the main reason Splinter chose this place to settle. The other being that it was relatively hidden and seemingly forgotten. They have lasted 6 months here so far). They usually used the walkway as a living room, kitchen and dining room.

Splinter knew they would need to find a permanent place deeper in the sewers soon. This one could be discovered at any time just like their previous homes. Raising four tiny turtle toddlers alone wasn’t exactly ideal for “sewer-home” searching though. 

It was only in the last couple of months he had to start leaving to get food alone. Raph growing rapidly from a palmful to two handfuls, his brothers not far behind Splinter suspected, combined with this area being safe for so long pushed him to leave his sons behind for short periods of time. He thanked his ancestors Raph was such a good boy who wanted to help watch his brothers. He’d only explored deeper into the sewers a little since then. It was slow progress finding a more permanent home but progress nonetheless.

The walkway was empty when he entered, making that two places his boys could be, so he went about setting up the food at their wobbly table. He could hear distant talking coming from the bedroom. They sounded fine so he set the other groceries in their proper places. 

He had found multiple places that were easy to borrow from. He tried to not go to the same place multiple times in a row. He hated being away from his boys for long so he always focused on gathering foods that would last. It didn’t make for much variety but the boys never noticed so he couldn’t complain. They had two large coolers to keep rats out, other than Splinter of course. One for food though it rarely had things that actually needed to be cold in it. The other was solely for water bottles. Canned foods were placed in a crate next to the cooler. 

Once he was done he made his way to the bedroom. As he got closer he heard a loud bang before the clear sounds of high-pitched screaming and things falling. He took a deep breath before shoving aside the torn blanket acting as a door.

Today it looked like their activity was what started out as a tea party but was now a warzone. Raphs plushies were strewn every which way. Tea cups and plates knocked over on the tiny table or thrown on the floor. The culprit stood on said table, likely the source of the loud bang, holding a weird looking thing above his head. Two little turtles hid on the other side of the family's shared pillow nest-bed. 

Well one hid. The other stood and glowered at the purple culprit. He clearly wanted to get closer but the hidden one held him back by a single arm wrapped around his chest.

“Donnie ruin tea pa’ty!” Mikey shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the cackling softshell.

“I did not! I en-hance-d it! This teapot was boring before, now it will do so much more! Like-”

“Purple,” Splinter sighed heavily, eyeing the hastily glued cardboard and scrap metal to what must be the pink toy teapot he’d found on one of his trips to the surface. 

No doubt Donnie had grand plans for the teapot but the two year old didn't exactly have the supplies to make them come true. He certainly didn’t lack imagination though. With how advanced they all were, Splinter just knew Donnie would be trouble when he was older. 

Good trouble but still trouble. 

Donnie turned slowly upon hearing the affectionate name from his father. He lowered the teapot just as slowly to try and hide it behind his back. He tried to look innocent but could never quite get it right, unlike his missing twin. Splinter would worry about that in a second. 

“Ah, Papa-”

“No,” Splinter said, raising a hand while Donnie pouted, “Fix the teapot after dinner. Go get cleaned up, all of you. Where is Blue?” 

Raph tentatively climbed over their nest-bed, now holding Mikey in his arms who continued to glare at their brother. Donnie sighed heavily and got down from the table. He set the teapot down before pointing towards the right side of the room behind Splinter. 

Splinter turned and saw his last son sitting in the corner facing the wall. He walked closer while his other sons made their way out and to the bathroom. Once he was close enough he heard the sound of soft, slow ripping. He looked over his son's head and saw a magazine held in one hand while the other carefully ripped it.

Splinter often brought them back since they were so easy to find. They helped in teaching his sons English and how to read. Or at least that was his intention, they more often got used for arts and crafts, or science experiments somehow.

Next to Leo was a small cardboard box with what looked like already ripped pages. There were too many to be from the same magazine he was currently ripping. Splinter bent down next to the tiny tot and touched his carapace as he reached forward and tapped the box. 

Leo glanced at him before nodding and going back to his task. Splinter reached into the box and brought out some of the pages. The more he looked through the pages the more he noticed a strange theme. So far all had been magazine pages, some waterlogged, some surprisingly supreme but all the same subject. 

Feet. 

Splinter glanced at the pages Leo was currently ripping and noticed each one was also feet, some had shoes or socks and some didn’t, but still…feet. Splinter watched bewildered as Leo finished his task of tearing out the feet in the magazine. 

He threw it next to him then started glancing carefully over each picture. He would discard certain photos, throwing them onto the magazine next to him while others he carefully put in the box. Splinter couldn’t tell why some of them were discarded yet others deemed acceptable, it all seemed very random. 

And how was he to react to finding his two year old ripping and collecting magazine photos of various feet? How long had this been happening? Was his Baby Blue insecure about his own feet? Should he be concerned? 

Leo continued his task while Splinter’s mind had completely left the sewer. Leo frowned at the pages in Splinter's hands before taking them. He shuffled through the new pages and put them back to what Splinter guessed was their original spot. 

While Leo did that Splinter jumped when he felt a tiny hand take his. He turned and saw Raph next to him with a frown, “Donnie is gonna eatted Mikey if you don’t come feed us.” 

Leo perked up at the mention of food. He picked up the box and pushed it into a little hidden nook Splinter had never noticed before. He turned back towards Splinter and grinned at him. Splinter shook his head and decided to forget about it. 

Considering how much mischief his tiny boys could get into, this was tame. If his most mischievous yet silent child (only in voice, Splinter was constantly surprised at the amount of noise the mute boy could make when he wanted) was entertained quietly by tearing apart magazines that was a blessing.

He picked up his boys under each arm like they were potato sacks. They giggled while trying to tug on eachother. Only Raphs arms could get close to Leo. He kept tugging on his little brother's fingers who giggled and yanked them back before reaching towards Raph again. Rinse and repeat. Time to feed his rambunctious boys. 

That was the story Splinter told once the boys were older and had discovered their brother‘s collection. 

It had only grown from what Splinter had seen. Leo had never actually shared it willingly. Though he never cared when Splinter checked in on it. Splinter never knew the true reason for the collection but he respected it. 

Afterall, Raph spoke in the third person, Donnie considered objects (and later his inventions) his children, and Mikey had an obsession with the marbles in spray paint cans. His boys were weird and he loved them.

With his other son's discovery of Leo’s collection there was of course the teasing. Splinter never saw it again since Leo now knew it was a bit strange. They never learned why but they knew it continued based on the strategically torn sections of their magazines. 

Leo always insisted it was just research when the teasing questions occurred once there was a reminder of it. Once Leo was allowed to go to the surface at age seven Splinter noticed the magazines slowly stopped having those torn pages. He remembered intending to ask if Leo completed whatever research he was conducting. 

He never did though. He regrets it now. He doesn’t remember when he stopped asking his boys questions. When he stopped knowing all of them in all of their being instead of just things from when he was involved.

By the time of the Foots and Shredders attack he knew he needed to change. He knew he couldn’t live with that regret.

Splinter regretted a lot of things as he stared at his Baby Blue breathing raspily in the stolen hospital bed of their Medbay three weeks after the Invasion. There wasn’t a part of Leo’s body that wasn’t injured. They had to resort to Draxum calling in professionals he knew just to make sure Leo lived. They didn’t know if he would walk again.

That was a funny thing to worry about considering he was in a coma. Yet, Splinter did worry. Leo had been such an active child. He grew into an active teen. Even as thoughts of walking and recovery raced through his head he still didn’t miss the small movements that began in Leo’s fingertips.

Splinter gasped. He gripped the bed's railing, trying to get as close as possible to his son to confirm he wasn’t seeing things. At Splinter’s gasp Donnie darted over from where he had been reading on his tablet. Mikey and Raph followed right behind him. Casey and April were just as quick to abandon their task of restocking some supplies. Soon they surrounded the bed all leaning in as close as possible.

There were small twitches, centered around Leo’s hands and face. Tears began pouring down Splinters face before Leo even opened his eyes. Splinter quickly wiped them away, not wanting to miss the sight of those beautiful eyes blinking open. When they finally did open the sounds of sobbing filled the room. 

Leo’s eyes seemed to gain more focus as he slowly took in each face surrounding him. The corner of his mouth curled like he wanted to smile. The rest of his face remained completely placid though. All of his family were sobbing while trying to get as close as possible to their injured loved one. 

There was a device Donnie gave Draxum. Its twin sat on the table next to Leo’s bed, to be used when Leo woke up. Splinter turned away briefly to push the button. Before he could turn back to Leo, Draxum was stepping from a portal. He ushered them away from the bed. Splinter’s family gathered close together behind his chair. 

As Draxum began his examination he described Leo’s new condition. Splinter was so focused on Leo’s increasing awareness that most of what Draxum said was background noise.

“-I cannot say if this is true awareness-”

“Uh…go..fff” Leo interrupted Draxum. Even mumbled and incoherent, his voice was music to Splinter’s ears. 

“What.” Draxum said bluntly, never happy to be cut off. He began to rub his knuckles on Leo’s chest while yelling Leo’s name loudly. Splinter personally thought he had terrible bedside manner. 

Leo let out a loud huff then widened his eyes at Draxum, “Mm on th’ goo’ st’ff, n’t deaf.” 

Draxum raised his eyebrows incredulously. Splinter laughed and cried and began shaking from pure happiness. He wasn’t the only one. The room filled with laughter as it was such a relief for all to hear him speak after three weeks of silence. 

“That wasn’t even that funny,” Donnie said while fruitlessly wiping the tears from his face. Leo turned towards them. He finally smiled. His eyes closed. His breathing evened out yet the smile stayed. Splinter felt no fear, knowing this was a natural sleep. 

Leo woke up and it didn’t matter if he would walk again. He would be around to complain about it. That was all Splinter could ask for. 

Later that night, Donnie was scowling from where he sat on the other side of Leo opposite of Splinter. It was the middle of the night. The others were asleep together in the living room. It had been turned into a giant nest-bed reminiscent of the ones Splinter made when the boys were small. 

Donnie could not be convinced to leave Leo’s side though. He’d probably cried the longest after Leo went back to sleep. Splinter observed his son, trying to figure out how to convince him to get some sleep.

He had long abandoned crying for seething anger now, it seemed. His eyes were narrowed in a tear filled glare. His chin wobbled no matter how deeply he frowned. His fingers tapped an anxious pattern against the arm of his chair.

(Donnie had not understood his thought processes or emotions for weeks now. He would jump from terror to sadness to anger and disgust and despair and- it never ended. So he tried to ignore it all. He slammed the door on the conflicting, loud voices and threw away the key. Now it appeared that the door had burst open upon hearing his stupid, idiotic, dumdum twin. Again everything was jumbled and confusing.)

“Ex-cuse you- I am the funniest- guy- ever,” Leo suddenly croaked out. Splinter jumped. He saw Donnie do so as well. Leo’s eyes were now open though clearly unfocused, blinking over and over again.

Donnie leaned forward as much as he could. Leo’s head slid towards his brother and he smiled once his eyes landed on Donnie. Donnie’s scowl was immediately gone. Now his beak was firmly clamped shut as he reached forward and took Leo’s hand. 

Splinter stayed silent and watched the sight of his twins together. A sight he thought he might not see again for a time.

Donnie visibly relaxed, clenching his jaw before breathing in shakily, “Hey dumdum, what are you talking about?” 

“Mmmm…you said… wasn’ funny,” Leo rolled his head slowly around the pillow, looking around the dim room. His eyes never really focused on anything until they landed on the ceiling directly above his head. His eyes squinted as he tried to focus on it.

“Is tha’...drawing of… feet?” Leo mumbled, voice confused.

Splinter looked up too and saw there was indeed a drawing of feet duct taped on the ceiling. They all stared at the picture in befuddled silence, then his boys said together, “Mikey.” 

The two giggled quietly, though Donnie’s sounded tear filled while Leo’s were breathy.

Splinter didn’t want to live with regrets. 

“Blue, why did you collect those pictures? I know you stopped so I assume you got your answer to your research.”

Donnie raised a drawn on brow at Leo, clearly wanting an answer too. Leo, in this state, couldn’t talk circles around his family as well as he usually could. This became obvious when instead of his usual dodging attempts, he actually answered. 

“I just wan’ed to find someone with two left feet, ya’know? I coul’ just look at people’s feet when we went to the surface so I didn’ need to get pictures anymore. I never did find anyone though. It’s like a conspiracy.”

Donnie stared at Leo in disbelief. Splinter knew his own expression had to match. 

“Leo…why would you be looking for someone like that? Actually no-how did you even know about that medical condition at age two?”

“What?” Leo stared at Donnie, face confused, “I just wanted to see it, ya-know- since Pops told us about that guy having two left feet. Sounded cool.”

Donnie looked at Splinter for an explanation but Splinter was equally baffled. He just shrugged. He looked back at Leo when he spoke again, appearing confused too, “‘member, we were having to hide again, an-and some guy fell, dropped all his tools and fell again when he got ‘em all back,” Leo looks at Splinter now, “you said he had two left feet.”

“Oh Pizza Supreme, Leo, that is a metaphor!” Donnie said in disbelief, letting go of Leo’s hand to slap it against his forehead.

“You remember that?” Splinter said simultaneously, “That had to have been at least six months before I found your collection.”

“Don’ call it a collection,” Leo whined, his face was getting red, “It was research!”

“It was not research either, Leo! It was an obsession!” Donnie was laughing now, leaning back in his chair.

Leo glared at him, it wasn’t very intimidating considering he couldn’t even properly focus on Donnie, “Nuh-uh, research! I had to know what two left feet looked like and how many people had it! Like people who are left handed.”

Donnie laughed even harder at that. He nearly fell out of his chair and had to quickly grab the railings on Leo’s bed before he crashed to the floor. He continued to laugh though and now Splinter joined, albeit more quiet. 

“Stop laughing!...are there really no people with two left feet?”

“No! Well, yes, but not like people being left handed. It just means someone is clumsy, Leo, like you,” Donnie said, still chuckling even as he explained, “I suppose you could say you were looking for yourself the whole time.”

“Shut up,” Leo said, pouting and refusing to look at either of them, though he ended up seeing the picture again and blushed even more. 

“Why did you not just ask me, Baby Blue?” 

“More importantly,” Donnie leaned forward to try and catch Leo’s eyes who just closed them to ignore his brother, “Why did you not just look it up on the internet once we had it?”

“I thought they were real! I wan’ed to find them on my own!” Leo insisted. He kept his eyes closed, but he was smiling now too. He let out a yawn before they could continue questioning (teasing) him. Splinter realized he must have closed his eyes for more than just ignoring troublesome brothers. Donnie must have too because his slowing laughter died down completely.

Splinter leaned forward and rubbed his palm against Leo’s head, “Sleep, my son, we will be here when you wake up.”

“Yeah, see you soon, Feet Boy,” Donnie took Leo’s hand again.

Leo let out a snort but his breathing evened out in sleep. 

Splinter looked up at Donnie, “You should get some sleep too, Purple, Blue won’t be happy to find you haven’t slept.”

Donnie kept staring at Leo, all traces of humor gone. Replaced with relief and sadness. He huffed out his nose, “Yeah, okay, but I will remain here.”

Splinter just nodded, knowing he wouldn’t win that particular fight. He settled back in his chair. At least that was one regret he wouldn’t have.

“Hey, Donnie, was finding out people with two left feet aren’t real, real or was I dreaming?”

“No, Leo, you were not dreaming.”

“What are you-?”

“Please don’t ask Raph, He’s mentioned this every time he is coherent.”

…

“Are you absolutely, positive-”

“Stop.”

[monstrousvoice]

Hi, followed after your latest chapter, so anyway thought you would enjoy the mental image of Morgott trying certain foods for the first time as King.

Normally he wouldn't partake in fancy [to him] foods, but sometimes there's dinners meant to serve for strengthening the nobility's measure of him. And it would look suspicious as hell if everyone BUT him ate.

So I just keep imagining him trying honey cakes, roast boar, chicken, fruits from orchards he half saw during a initial patrol as Margit. All while trying to keep a straight face. Hell, warm food that isn't burnt in some way probably feels weird to him for a while.

I don't know, i just keep imagining he purposely saves eating those things for when he Has to because he likes them So Much that it becomes a thing he denies himself-- like a bed or tailored clothes.

I have thoughts and your fic hasn't helped stop them.

Oh Anon you sweet bean!!

I do think that Morgott is the type to deny himself any simple pleasures when he can. Sleeping? Anywhere that is out of the way of others and that gets the job done. Doesn't matter if he wakes up feeling sore and uncomfortable, a being like him doesn't deserve the luxury of a bed.

Clothing? The same story. He is dedicated to protecting his city and the Erdtree, any fine clothing would be torn to shreds during battle, not to mention it only hinders his movements. What does it matter if his wishes to feel soft cotton against his skin instead of coarse fibers that are worn and frayed and smell of his own sweat? He hasn't earned the right to feel such things. He has always wanted to see if he would look...somewhat less horrifying if he was dressed in clothing that had his mother's gold as an accent color. Would he seem less shameful to her then?

And food? Food is the most tempting and cruel thing he denies himself. Fun fact, the short I'm finishing up and going to post next goes over this issue a little more 👀

When he first donned the Mimic Veil and took his place as king, he actually could not eat the food given to him. His body was malnourished (still is actually) and the food was so rich in nutrients for him that his body couldn't handle it.

But he was so hungry.

He is ashamed for it, but it was a night where he actually caved into his shameful desires and ate as much of the food he could get his hands on. It smelled so delicious...A smell he had only ever caught a whiff of while hiding in the shadows of sewer tunnels, when the common folk walked above him eating and selling from carts.

He ate, and ate, and ate. Until he could eat no more.

And he very quickly regretted it. His stomach roiled and rebelled against the onslaught of rich proteins and pure sugars, and he was sick. He threw everything back up almost as quickly as he had caved to his desires and scarfed it down.

Months later, when he was studying in the library, he would learn that the reason for his sickness was indeed due to his malnourished state, but at the time? He had thought it was a fitting punishment by Grace, the Greater Will, for succumbing to his cravings and eating the food that belonged to the people more deserving than him.

If he must eat, such as at a party of nobility, he eats the very bare minimum regardless of how his stomach may growl and beg. The sights and scents alone can be overwhelming for his advanced senses, but he manages to pull through.

As his Lord Consort (and possibly God depending on how you like to think you got married to him) you take it upon yourself to help him with these issues. Its a long and arduous process, one that has the both of you get angry or cry or feel like giving up. But the key to being Morgott's beloved? You're just as stubborn as he is.

You help him with these habits and even encourage him to improve himself more. For the food in particular, there are a couple ways to convince him to eat. You can guilt trip him, or make it a secret and reward.

Guilt tripping is when his response to your prodding is anger, which happens the most in the beginning. If he's in a mood where he refuses to eat and gets angry when you convince him otherwise? Bring out the crocodile tears and sniffling. He's going to let all this wonderful food, made just for him, go to waste? Food that the chefs spent hours on, just to be thrown into the back alleys for the rats to eat? When there are those out there who don't have anything at all? This triggers his memories of being a starved child...and he finds he can't actually send you away.

The method of making it a secret and reward is the most common way to convince him to eat, and the most effective. Take a couple bites of the meal yourself, lay it on a little thick how good it tastes, how wonderful it is, to get his attention. When he looks to you, say you got it for him but it's so delicious you couldn't help but sneak a bite. He doesn't mind, truly. It's the exact opposite actually, he is rather happy to know that you are fed and healthy.

Then offer it to him as intended. When he tries to refuse, make it into a "game". You won't tell anyone, least of all the Greater Will, that he ate some of the meal. It's your shared secret, and no one else will ever find out. And if it's a secret between just the two of you...then it's okay to do it this one time, yes? Just one time, he'll take a bite and be done with it.

But then he chews and swallows...and you praise him. Tell him that you're so proud he actually ate! And it was so tasty right? Maybe he should take another bite, just to really savor the taste and texture. It's just a small part to add to your new secret! No one will know...

And before he knows it...the whole meal is gone. Sitting comfortably in his very full belly and giving his body the nourishment it's been craving. Eventually he gets so used to these little "secret" food meetings between you both, he doesn't even need you to pretend any longer. You can just come in and settle down with him and hold his food out, and he takes it without hesitation.

[lycantripuwu]

Finally getting caught up on session updates, we have out dinner at Ravenloft next session and that will be a whole thing.

We stop a very stinky vampire's plan to attack the city with an undead horde.

-Mirre gives Ireena his wand of secrets(Wow that sounds wrong) and tells her to use it if she's ever alone in one of the rooms.

-We've learned that Theodor is a ladies man, so naturally Rhil and Ireena go to distract him while Mirre snoops around the house.

-Unable to find anything odd, Mirre figures whatever secrets are in Theodor's study. Because nobles always have secret rooms and there HAS to be something.

-Rhil is able to talk Theodor out of the room and up to his uh.. "pleasure room" where she talks about the history of her deity, The Platinum Song, the entire time. While Theodor's servant, Bram, sits with Ireena.

-Mirre lets Jace know Rhil went upstairs and Jace, being his protective self, knocks on the door hard.

-Ireena gets her chance to use the wand of secrets while Bram answers the door, and we all leave with Rhil and Jace pretending to argue.

-Ireena tells us that there is definitely a secret behind the book case, and even saw that book she needed to pull, but got interrupted.

-Rhil casts clairvoyance from Blue Water to see whats behind it and finds a bloody ritual circle.

-Mirre has a theory that it could lead to Ravenloft and sees this as an opportunity to sneak in and get Reek out of there. Mirre is fully prepared to sneak in alone with a plan since he is the stealthiest compared to Rhil and Jace(plate mail), He has a way to teleport to the fanes as well.

-We ask Fiona to distract Theodor with a meeting and taxes and we call up Victor to come check out this circle with us.

-Mirre sneaks up through the balcony and like a cat, knocks over a bottle of "massage oil" onto the piano inside and shattering it. effectively keeping Bram busy.

-he unlocks the front door for Victor and they check out the hidden room behind the book case.

-Mirre originally wanted Victor to destroy the circle after he went through so the rest of the party couldnt follow into danger. after a stern talk from Victor, Mirre promised to keep the circle open and call for help if he needed it.

-He definitely needed it, because it wasn't Ravenloft, but the durst cult basement(We had a different death house start with Legosi) that was located in the sewers of Vallaki.

-Mirre makes it through most of it undetected, trying to determine if he was actually in Ravenloft or not, until he triggered a bunch of skeletons in a dungeon, the bigger one nat 20'ing him immediately.

-he summoned his hellhounds and fought off the skellies after calling for help, realizing he cant do this alone.

-Rhil, Jace, Ireena and Victor sneak through the circle and end up triggering a bunch of cultists that Mirre snuck by.

-The group decides to use the robes as a disguise as Mirre dealt with the skeletons and started sneaking his way back to the party.

-Mirre sees a bunch of cultists and shoots one of them with his bow from the shadows before sending his hellhounds to charge. Turns out that was Jace he shot.

-We work out way through the dungeon, fighting more cultists, ghouls, a roper and a mimic that Rhil's been caught by three separate times this campaign now. she likes to touch things without thinking about it.

-we get to the end and get surrounded by cultists wanting us to sacrifice a woman on an alter. we refuse and in comes Theodor, whos actually a nosferactu.

-With a command word from Theodor Rhil's armor turns into a animated armor and immobilizes her. She had to fight off the armor with strength checks to pull off pieces. Rhil goes from 23 armor to 13 in less then 3 rounds.

-The party starts a fight, getting multiple hold person and command spells from the four bigger guys up on the ledges.

-Once Rhil gets her armor off, Theodor targets her immediately and i swear she was up and down, conscious and unconscious at least 9 different times as he fed on her and the party kept healing her.

-Victor kills Theodor with a Nat 20 and we head back to report to Fiona, learning of a horde of undead settled on a farm near Vallaki and the party decides to deal with this issue sooner rather then later.

-Rhil, Jace, Mirre, Victor, The wolf hunters and Lars with some guards march to this farm.

-There were a lot more then we expected and things went south, all of the guards had died. one of the wolf hunters died. But Rhil took a risk and teleported out there to protect his body so she could revivify him.

-This worked with a well placed fire elemental and eventually we finished the hordes.

-We trek back with everyone except the guards alive.

-Fiona thanks us and offers us Theodor's old home which we accept quickly, we head back and rest up.

-after some wisdom rolls regarding dark gifts(Rhil rolled really well, even nat20'd one), the tips of Rhil's ears have turned black.

-The next day, Victor stops by and helps us dispel the evil tome, destroying it.

-Mirre catches Majesto trying to steal his box of notes containing information regarding his case with Anastrasya. So naturally, Mirre made an explosive fake box filled with gun powder, alchemist fire, acid and holy water as a little surprise next time Majesto tries to steal it.

-We spend most the day cleaning up the home and making it out own while we prepare ourselves for Ravenloft.

[vikasgarden]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒: 𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯 𝔢𝔡𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑. black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. alcohol in glass decanters. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. dark alleys. empty streets. driving at night . horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. paranoia. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the american south. the american northeast. england. analog cameras.

𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑. gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums. spiders. books.

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒. bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. suburbia. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. outdated television sets. nightmares psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. household objects turned into improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. character masks scrunchies. queerness. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑. malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. mausoleums. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at something you can’t see. black ooze. old photographs. faces you can swear you’ve seen before but can’t for the life of you figure out where. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 & 𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑. aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw-marks. bite-marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. abandoned houses. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities. urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking / backpacking.

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒. daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. asylums. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms with no one inside them. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes. paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. suspicion. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots.

tagged by: @acedecoeur tagging: @vasted , @verflcht , @fireburial , @bvtchcr

[za-baransu]

MUSE AESTHETICS: HORROR EDITION.

bold whatever applies | italics what sometimes applies [ both if it's perfect for your muse ] | strikethrough what doesn't apply & tag people. repost; don’t reblog!

TAGGED BY: my own stash TAGGING: mhm!

@quirofiliac ; @pwophet | @thusspoke | @nekurooma | @adenial | @baishouqijia | @kuraikyu | @determinazione | @zajevre | @owabisuru ; @gyakusama | @cinghialefedele | @keikakudori | @imagend | @yasuhtora ; @inouehs | @despairforme | @huntiburon | @deathleads | @jinjahime | @bornhollow | @hxbiris | @kamitakes | @lured-into-wonderland | @liecoris | @amaranthineoni | @deityforged [ and whoever wants to! just say i tagged you ]

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. ghosts. dark alleys. empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. suspicion. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South. the American Northeast. England. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw marks. bite marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities. urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums. books. stitches.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. cut wires. character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms. empty rooms. killer in plain sight. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes. paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots. a noise in the distance

[roseofdarknessblog]

Enemies to Enemies (Colt Grice x Reader + the Warriors)

I was battling a pretty bad writer's block once again... why do they happen so often lately? But anyways, I managed to come up with something. So here, enjoy some silly moments with our lovely Warriors.

♡ @chaotic-on-main ♡

„Are you sure this is a good idea?“ Colt asked, handing you a bottle of vine, while you were adjusting the roses in the wase for like the millionth time. Every detail had to be perfect. Otherwise, all of this would simply go to waste. „I think you’ll just make the whole thing worse.“

„Oh, please. What could be worse than their constant bickering? I’m getting tired of them both, but mostly Galliard.“

„Want me to remind you something?“ he teased you.

You furrowed your brows. „No, don’t! Otherwise, I’ll tell Zeke about how you lost his favorite baseball bat,“ you threatened the blond boy, adjusting the nicely polished cutlery before taking a step back to look at the table as a whole.

Everything looked even more perfect than you previously envisioned. Yes, it was a dumb idea and a complete waste of money and time, but... hey, miracles sometimes do happen, right?

„I didn’t lose it,“ Colt mumbled under his breath, averting his gaze.

„Then where is it?“ Zeke’s missing baseball bat was all the smoke between the Warriors for the last couple of days. Everyone knew about it. Well, except for Zeke.

„In the sewer.“

For a second you thought you hear him wrong. „Excuse me... what?“

„I have nothing to do with it!“ he exclaimed immediately, while his cheeks started to get a little red. „Ask Gabi and Falco. I’m sure they’ll be more than excited to tell you. At least Gabi, Falco is scared to even look at Zeke since then.“

„That’s why he’s avoiding him, now it makes sense. Or... no, it doesn’t but who cares?“ You waved your hand at him, hugged his right arm, and dragged him to stand next to you. „So, what do you think? Do we need anything else?“

The little round table in your family’s garden looked perfect. A white tablecloth, two lit candles, vine glasses and vine, plates, cutlery, and even some pink and purple confetti you had left from the time you were in charge of organizing a birthday party for Zofia earlier that year. If somebody looked at this arrangement, a romantic dinner would be the first thing to come to their mind.

But surely not a dinner for two people who couldn’t stand each other. Or at least one of them had to constantly bully the other one.

„I still think it’s a stupid idea and I really don’t know why I’m even helping you.“

„Because you love me,“ you said and kissed his cheek.

The very special „romantic“ dinner the two of you planned, was meant for Porco and Reiner. It was you, who came up with the idea, because getting shot at the nearest battlefield started to sound more appealing than listening to their constant stupid fights and taunts. While Reiner was the one, who held back most of the time and never started a fight first, Porco looked for an opportunity every chance he got. Yes, he had his reasons, you understood that, but if nobody did anything, those two would end up arguing right during your next military operation.

Good thing neither of their Titans could talk.

„Now... did you tell them to be here at seven?“ you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder.

„Yep.“

„Okay, so I guess we’ll just wait for them.“

Colt nodded, looking at you skeptically. He had every right to worry about how this evening would play out. But he surely didn’t think about Zofia and Udo rushing over and hurry both of you over to his house, because Falco and Gabi got stuck down in the sewer while they were trying to retrieve Zeke’s baseball bat.

At first, you wanted to stay at your place and wait for Reiner and Porco, but when you saw the panic on Colt’s face, you joined them.

When you arrived at the place, the guards from the Internment zone gate, who the kids befriended fairly easily, were already there, laughing their asses off, while Gabi was screaming at them angrily from down below. The two of them got stuck there after half of the old rusty ladder, they used to climb down, simply fell off and the remaining part was too high for them to reach.

„Are you sure you got it?“ you asked Colt, while he was throwing them a rope and was about to climb down to grab that stupid bat from Gabi, before helping them both up.

He mumbled something about not needing you to watch his every step, while he simultaneously cursed his little brother and Reiner’s cousin. Maybe that’s why he almost fell down as well when another step from the ladder broke off. All in all, it took you almost half an hour, until the incident was over.

Only then you realized, that your little rescue mission became an interesting comedy for some of the Eldian people passing by or looking out the windows of their homes. The only one, who was happy about it, was Gabi. She grabbed the baseball bat again, hoisted it into the air, and then bowed for everyone as if she just finished a theatre performance.

She and Falco smelled more than horribly but were still in a better condition than Zeke’s bat. Returning it to him in this condition would equal a war crime.

„I still want to hear how that bat got down to the sewer, alright?“ you asked Gabi, while all of you made your way back to your house. They both needed a shower and a set of fresh clothes Zofia and Udo agreed to borrow them. It was better than letting them go home in such a horrible state. This way the parents didn’t need to know anything. „I’m sure it’s a very interesting story.“

„Definitely!“ she shouted in excitement and started walking backward, just to look right at you, while she started talking again. However, she was cut short, when you arrived at your house. Going around, you peeked over the fence into the garden, almost forgetting how to breathe for a second.

„Look!“ you said to Colt excitedly and smiled so wide, your cheeks started hurting.

Right there, at the table, you so nicely set up sat Reiner and Porco. They were talking about something, while their vine glasses were half empty. If you didn’t know better, you would say this was truly a typical romantic dinner.

„I knew it! I knew it would work and you didn’t believe me!“ you teased Colt, jumping a little with joy. Only that your joy was short-lived, when you looked over at the boys again, as you heard a quiet sob and a roar of laughter right afterward.

„Ehm... are you sure they’re having the time of their life?“ Colt asked, trying to suppress a smile. Right next to him, the Warrior candidates were complaining that the fence was too high and they didn’t see anything. „Because I think Reiner...“

Only when you looked really closely, you saw the truth. While Porco was grinning and drinking the vine with a very satisfied look, Reiner was shaking his head and wiping away tears, while probably contemplating every single decision of his life, which lead him there.

And no, it really didn't help when he noticed you and Colt peering from behind the fence with apologetic looks on your faces. Embarrassed and probably red even behind your ears, you waved at him.

„Do you think serving the food we prepared for them would help?“ you asked Colt in a hushed voice, still waving at Reiner and now Porco as well.

„About that... I guess I forgot to turn the oven on when you told me. Otherwise, your house would be already a pile of ash, since we rushed off without thinking about anything else.“

„Oh...“

There really didn’t seem to be a way to save the whole night. Definitely not, when you suddenly heard Zeke’s voice from behind you. While he was walking up the street to your house with Pieck by his side, and already shouting something to both you and Colt, Zofia quickly pushed Gabi and Falco into the nearby bushes, hiding the baseball bat there as well.

It was better not to try your luck anymore.

[chea-likes-pretzels]

YOU. ME. GAS STATION. What are we getting for dinner? Sushi of course. Uh oh, there was a roofie inside of our gas station sushi, we black out and wake up in a sewer. We're surrounded by fish; You know what that means. Fish party!!!, the stench draws in a bear. What are we gonna do? We're gonna fight it. BEAR FIGHT. BEAR HANDED. BEAR naked? oh yes, please. We befriend the bear after we beat it in a brawl. then we ride into a chuck-e-cheese, dance dance revolution. REVOLUTION? OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT? uh, I think so. next thing you know, i'm reincarnated as Jesus Christ. Then i turn into a jet, fly into the sun, black out again, wake up, do a bump, white out which i didn't know you could do, then i smoked a joint. Greened-out, then i turned into the sun. uh oh, looks like the meth is kicking in.

BLRGHAHWJSGSLQBSBRLAHGSGSGSGSGGSGWGWGEGWGGWG

(/j this is all /j)

I got a stroke.

[p0pp3t]

YOU. ME. GAS STATION. What are we getting for dinner? Sushi of course. Uh oh, there was a roofie inside of our gas station sushi, we black out and wake up in a sewer. We're surrounded by fish; horny fish. You know what that means. Fish party, the stench draws in a bear. What are we gonna do? We're gonna fight it. BEAR FIGHT. BEAR HANDED. BEAR naked? oh yes, please. We befriend the bear after we beat it in a brawl. then we ride into a chuck-e-cheese, dance dance revolution. REVOLUTION? OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT? uh, I think so. next thing you know, i'm reincarnated as Jesus Christ. Then i turn into a jet, fly into the sun, black out again, wake up, do a bump, white out which i didn't know you could do, then i smoked a joint. Greened-out, then i turned into the sun. uh oh, looks like the meth is kicking in.

BLRGAHAGSHAGSHAGHAGSUWSHJWNSKAKWDDKWBSKWKE

TORI???? TORI WHAT DOES THIS MEAN???? HELLO???

[darckcarnival]

MUSE AESTHETICS: HORROR EDITION.

bold whatever applies | italics what sometimes applies [ both if it's perfect for your muse ] | strikethrough what doesn't apply & tag people. repost; don’t reblog!

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. ghosts. dark alleys. empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. suspicion. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South. the American Northeast. England. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw marks. bite marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities.urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches.catacombs. mausoleums. books. stitches.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons.poltergeists.dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity.newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. cut wires. character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms. empty rooms. killer in plain sight. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes. paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots.a noise in the distance.

Tagged by: @fantomevoleur

Tagging: Again steal it from me and tag me~

[fantomevoleur]

MUSE AESTHETICS: HORROR EDITION.

bold whatever applies | italics what sometimes applies [ both if it's perfect for your muse ] | strikethrough what doesn't apply & tag people. repost; don’t reblog!

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. ghosts. dark alleys. empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. suspicion. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South. the American Northeast. England. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw marks. bite marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities. urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums. books. stitches.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. cut wires. character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms. empty rooms. killer in plain sight. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes. paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots. a noise in the distance.

TAGGED BY: @quillheel

TAGGING: @everlastiingiimmortals (Jing Yuan or Ratio), @lunafool, @gentlemanthiief, @chibitantei, @fatexbound (P3 Makoto or Yu), @darckcarnival, @justiceburst (Akechi), @etherealguard, and anyone wearing slippers!

[warpcursed]

MUSE AESTHETICS: HORROR EDITION.

bold whatever applies | italics what sometimes applies [ both if it's perfect for your muse ] | strikethrough what doesn't apply & tag people. repost; don’t reblog!

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. ghosts. dark alleys. empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. suspicion. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South. the American Northeast. England. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw marks. bite marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities. urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums. books. stitches.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. cut wires. character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms. empty rooms. killer in plain sight. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes. paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots. a noise in the distance.

Stole from: @all-fleshed-out ((im love you friend))

Tagging: @chapter-master-darius @bitchofsteel @divinacaptivus @dreamsofalife @akhenaten-imhotep @ask-the-crimson-king @askthecaptiangeneral @some-old-psyker