#she was simply too spooky for my me but she sounds so lovely

[the-roc-pile]

Hrmmmmm.... I have a very silly idea... a very silly idea where I take this batch of characters I have and make an AU where they are all in charge of the Welcome Home Restoration Project instead of an AU where they are inside of Welcome Home (by @partycoffin).

To be honest (as I cannot be Frank in this context) I don't know how much of this is that psychology personable fable versus my child me who feels the need to act drastically different as I can feel I am moderately different but no one else seemed to pick up on it but either way the thought is worming!

Lol I have three pages of filled notebook paper --including some relationship diagrams-- and about 600 typed-up words about the concept already and it's only an hour old! I thought of it an hour ago and I have generated so many things about it but I must go to bed : / sadly I have courses. I'll see if the idea is still going tomorrow or if I dream about it (I hope so it will give me Ideas).

[zaldritzosrose]

Carpe Noctem (Modern Goth!Aemond x Goth!Reader)

Summary: Aemond enjoyed the darker side of life; the morbid, the macabre. He reflected his outside with how he looked on the inside, ignoring the unusual stares he would get from passersby. His world revolved around it, losing himself in dark and fantastical worlds...and then he met you. His real life gothic heroine.

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, gothic coded reader, gothic Aemond, dark/morbid fantasies, outdoor sex, graveyard sex, mild exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, phone sex, innuendo, profanity, (yes this is probably my truest self insert, sue me), Aemond wishes he could live in a gothic novel.

Words: 4535

Surprise I posted earlier than expected!

Happy Spooky Season! This is my second fic submission to our Fan Frankentober Event (masterlist will be found here) in collab with a few lovely moots! Head over to @fandomeventcenter for more info!

There was a darkness in Aemond. A darkness that had been left unconsidered and unloved until he had met you.

Aemond was a lover of all things macabre and morbid. It had started when he and his family had moved houses, living just a short walk from a cemetery. Horror stories had always fascinated him. Tales told to scare around a campfire or in a darkened room. Stories meant to get the heart racing and the hairs to stand tall on the neck.

The older he got, the deeper he delved. Collections of stories, ranging from the well-known classics to lesser-known fables, lined the walls of his room.

His interests soon followed. His music reflected his darker curiosities, from haunting musical classics to heavier, grungier sounds of heavy metal and gothic rock. And his clothing choices followed not long after, modelling himself after his favourite artists and horror icons. Even covering his injured eye – a mishap in his childhood – with a bespoke leather eyepatch.

Aemond lived his life by the darkness he always felt within.

You had always felt a little outcasted, though some of it was self-inflicted. You preferred solitude, with the only company being the fantastical beings within the pages of your favourite books.

Your love of art and photography helped you channel the morbidity within into something beautiful. Wandering around derelict buildings and darkened graveyards. Styling your images after the scenes in your novels.

Holding an affinity for the tragic heroines and broken damsels in your books, you began to create art of yourself. Posing for timer taken photos in intricate costumes. Collating the photos and creating your very own spooky, fantastical online presence.

That’s where he found you. He had joined the site to follow his favourite authors, artists and musicians. Simply to immerse himself further into the world he enjoyed.

He had been scrolling through posts, mindlessly passing time while his siblings bickered about something or other. And there you were.

It was like you had been pulled from one of the novels on his shelf. The layers of lace that draped over your body, the red as deep as freshly spilled blood. Makeup dark and deathly. Before Aemond knew it, he’d opened your page. Trawling through photo after photo, slowly getting lost in the dark, ethereal draw you seemed to hold.

After weeks of keeping himself updated with your posts, he decided he had to know you. No matter what happened, he had to try.

Tentatively, he opened his messages and, inspired by your ‘Spooky Season’ posts most recently, he chose one of his favoured quotes from Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

“I have crossed oceans of times to find you…your work is beautiful, almost as beautiful as you.”

Aemond could feel his heart beating hard enough he feared it might burst from his chest. Was that too weird? Was he too forward? Would you find him creepy?

There wasn’t much he could do now; the message was out there and deleting it would be even more suspicious.

So, he waited.

Your phone dinged and the message notification surprised you. A message from the username ‘truetooneanother’. You instinctively checked the profile first; it wouldn’t be the first time a stranger had messaged you in response to a photoshoot. Most were harmless, but you were always cautious.

A quick scroll showed almost exactly what you expected from a Frankenstein inspired username. Aesthetic pleasing images of books, his cat, shots out music gigs and records. Even a mix of beautiful photographs of what you guess was where he lived – perfectly framed images of graveyards, lakes, and some of the most gorgeous gothic architecture you had ever laid your eyes on.

But what you wanted, was a picture of whoever this stranger with classic horror knowledge was. And some deeper scrolling came up with your prize. One of few shots of your mystery messenger. A posed photo lit by what you guess was a fireplace or candles. The profile of his face was in main focus, and you were sure you could see what looked like an eyepatch, maybe?

A couple more scrolls and you found a full image of his face and you could have sworn your jaw dropped just a little. There was just something about him that had you intrigued.

Immediately, you reopened his message.

“That’s very kind of you, and how did you manage to choose one of my favourite literary quotes?”

You hit send and waited. Soon, you could see that he had read your message. You were surprised that you felt a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. You had never been like this over a stranger online before. But when your phone pinged again to say he’d sent a message, you were chewing your lip in excitement.

“Because it is my favourite, I can’t count how many times I’ve read Dracula. And your last post inspired it, you looked like you’d fallen from one of its pages.”

You could feel the blush on your cheeks. No one had ever spoken to you that way. Complimenting you without making you feel uncomfortable. Most comments or direct messages were failed attempts at flirting, sexual innuendo or just downright creepiness.

This time it felt different.

“Classic horror is one of my greatest inspirations, everything in those books is pure darkness and fantasy…making it real is a passion. Can I ask your name?”

There was something about the words he chose, the way he wrote his messages that gave you butterflies. How could you be so fascinated about someone you didn’t know?

“Aemond. May I ask yours?”

“Then you manage it perfectly, it suits you.”

Those two messages only made you blush deepen. Why was he having such an effect on you?

You gave him your name, feeling the heat radiating of your cheeks as he continued to compliment you – almost poetically.

You and Aemond continued to talk, moving your messaging from you social media to giving out your phone number. Those messages soon turned to phone calls, his voice bordering on hypnotic. You could barely get enough.

His phone calls were as poetic as his messages. The gentle timbre to his voice would sink into your mind and settle there.

A few more weeks and those phone calls became video chats. Hours spent talking about books, music, films. Where your favourite places were to photograph – for you it was where to set your shoots, for Aemond it was the places he wanted to create art from.

It wasn’t long before things turned a little more…x rated.

Behind the scenes pictures of your photography outings, showing off the variety of corsets, barely there lace dresses you would don for your ideas.

This was how you’d found out Aemond also enjoyed fencing. It was both expected and unexpected. When you’d learned his surname, you realised he came from a pretty well known Westerosi family, so higher class pursuits weren’t too far out of the question.

But the picture he had sent this morning, post training but pre-shower…

It had set your whole body on fire. Silver hair let loose and hanging over his shoulders. Clad only in his white fencing trousers and no shirt. Pale skin, lean torso on show. And his caption had waves of arousal coursing through your body.

He was beautiful. Like a dark character from one of your fantasy novels. It took you a moment to formulate a reply, and what you gave was far from your usual ability.

“Are you trying to kill me off?

You’d ended your message with a couple of emojis, the hot face emoji and the winking face. It wouldn’t be the first time you and Aemond had shared more racy messages, but this had been the first time he’d sent a photo like that.

And your heart was in your throat, desire wet between your thighs when you saw him typing.

“I would never, but nice to know you find me that attractive… you could see this in person if you wanted?”

“Fuck…” you muttered aloud, staring at the screen in disbelief.

A cheeky thought entered your mind. A picture for a picture was only fair, right?

You made sure the angle was perfect, showing off the shape of your body, your hand tucked seductively between your thighs. Your shirt bunched up to show a little skin. You added only a few dirty emojis and one word.

“When?”

Aemond almost dropped his phone when you sent that message back. Between the photo and your message, his skin felt hot, the crotch of his trousers getting tighter the longer he looked at it.

Fuck, you were stunning. Seduction and sensuality personified. His hand was tucked into the waistband of his trousers before he could stop himself. His other frantically messaging you back.

“Next week? You have that graveyard shoot planned right?”

Aemond’s hand shook as he typed. He needed release and he needed you.

“You have no idea what you do to me…I crave you…you have witchcraft on your lips.”

You fingers were like lightning as you replied, your own hand still nestled between your thighs. Part of you wanted to call him, hear his voice talking you through the desire that was thick in your veins. Your fingers dipped beneath your underwear, the ones holding your phone hovering over the call symbol.

And then the phone rang. Aemond’s name flashing on your screen. You barely even said ‘hello’, your voice soft as you dropped back onto your bed.

“Talk to me, please just talk to me…”

Aemond let out a soft chuckle, ending in a groan as his hand settled entirely into his trousers.

“Do you need me, sweet girl? Did my bare chest turn you on that much?” his voice was in that tone you adored.

Low and soft, almost a whisper. It sent a shiver down your spine in the most delicious of ways, settling deep within your core.

“You have no idea. Now I know what you hide under all that black and leather.”

Aemond only hummed in response, the rustling of material telling you exactly what he was doing. But you wanted to hear his voice. The soft sound of his breath told you he was as aroused as you were. Sometimes, the simplest things were enough to get the two of you going.

“Oh, darling, I hide a lot more than that. How badly do you need me?”

The tone, the implication behind his words had you sighing softly, fingers toying with your pearl. Circling softly at just the thought of what the rest of him might look like. You tried to calm yourself, to muster some of the darker more erotic poetry you had read on his recommendation.

“I…oh...I want your lust to tear the flesh of my bones, fuck…and leave me ravaged…”

Aemond felt his good eye roll into the back of his head. Having you read that poetry was one thing, but hearing it fall from your lips and mixed with sounds of pleasure. He could have come there and then.

“And ravage you I will, my darling…”

He could hear the movement of your hand against your body, the faintest sounds of your slickened fingers pushing you closer and closer to orgasm. His own hand working himself furiously at just the thought of having you beneath him, moaning his name. He laid himself entirely back on his bed, his phone on his chest as his hips began to rut up into his hand.

“I’d like to taste you in ways my tongue dare not speak…”

That was all it took to have you softly sighing his name down the phone, your release coming like waves over your body. Aemond followed soon after, rough grunts matching the rhythm of his hand.

Both of you panted as you calmed, the silence falling comfortably until Aemond spoke.

“I can’t wait to meet you.”

The day had come. Months of messages, calls, video chats had all led to this. You were going to see him in the flesh. And he was going to see you.

You had both agreed to meet just as you finished your planned Halloween shoot – a bit on the nose admittedly but you had chosen a graveyard near your hometown with your favourite horror heroines as your style inspiration. Ranging from classics like the Bride of Frankenstein to newer icons such as Morticia Addams. Simply, the shoot was entirely self-indulgent for you.

You knew you wouldn’t miss him. A few friends had come to help you out, setting up the camera, getting changed into another costume and all that. But other than that, the graveyard was relatively quiet.

Your focus remained on the shoot. Remembering your poses, the props, what you envisioned for the final images. But you could see the silver hair in the distance, contrasted against the entirely black palette of his outfit. Aemond kept his distance, leaning against a headstone as he waited patiently for you to be done.

The shoot was done, you had changed into what could only be described as a more casual combination of the costumes from the shoot. A flowy black dress, paired with Victorian inspired boots and a lacy black shawl you’d had since you could remember.

You could see Aemond walking towards you, your friends having long packed up and dispersed – most of them knowing what you had planned afterwards. Nerves set in your stomach.

What if he didn’t like you? What if, despite seeing you through the screen, he was no longer interested?

But all of that disappeared the second he stood in front of you. His long, lean form clad head to toe in layers of black. From the thick wool of his coat to the silken fabric of his shirt and the leather of his boots. That eyepatch laid perfectly over his eye – you had asked what happened and despite being a little unwilling, Aemond explained he’d injured it as a child but said no more. It was almost as though he enjoyed being mysterious.

“Aemond…” you smiled, moving to slip down from your perch on a stone wall.

Your smile only widened when Aemond held out his hand, offering his assistance to help you down. And you took it gladly, letting his fingers wrap around yours without hesitation.

Aemond kept hold of it, toying softly with one of the rings you wore.

“That shoot was truly a sight to behold,” Aemond whispered, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

He knew what it did to you, you knew he did. You were sure that he would choose that tone purposefully in calls to rile you up. And you loved it.

“So, you liked it? Horror Queens wasn’t too obvious for Halloween?”

Aemond laughed, and you let him lead you to a little clearing in the gravestones. Everything felt comfortable, his hand holding yours, the feel of him stood next to you. It just felt right.

“You were perfect, as always. Even now it’s as though you’ve stepped from, dare I say, one of Shelley or Stoker’s pages.”

You squeezed his hand in response, not knowing how to respond to such a compliment. But you were struck even more silent when you saw where he was leading you.

A large blanket was stretched out on the ground, perfectly placed between a group of headstones. A small gift, wrapped in black and red paper and finished with a velvet bow sat beside a hamper filled with food. More specifically, your favourite foods.

“Well, aren’t you a romantic?”

You sat down on the blanket, stretching your legs out in front of you as Aemond sat at your side. His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist. It was like you’d been beside each other for the longest time, everything felt so natural.

“A romantic? I am simply a man who wishes let you know how important you are.”

Aemond felt a need to restrain himself a little. Part of him wanted to spout all of the poetry and stories that wandered around his mind, to declare his love for you.

But he had just met you, in the literal sense. And he’d be damned if he scared you off now.

You, however, liked that about him. How open he was with how he felt. How he wasn’t afraid to give in to every emotion he felt.

“So, tell me. Don’t you know how much I enjoy your poetry?” you said it almost shyly, feeling Aemond’s arm tighten around your waist.

Aemond felt he could have melted there and then. But at the same time, the idea you enjoyed his words so much set a fire in his veins that he didn’t expect.

“Then you will very much like your gift, my darling.”

He leaned away, tugging the neatly wrapped gift towards him. Part of you felt guilty, you hadn’t bought him anything. But at the same time, you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t mind.

His fingers brushed yours as you took the present from his grasp. As carefully as possible, you tugged at the ribbon and unwrapped it. They felt like books which didn’t surprise you at all, from Aemond. But what they truly were would surprise you.

Two beautifully bound notebooks, in black with shades of purple and red. Your breath caught in your throat as you opened the first one.

Pages upon pages of both of your favourite quotes, lines from poetry. You were already overwhelmed by the time you opened the second.

Handwritten versions of the poetry Aemond himself had sent you. The lines he had written to express his feelings towards you now preserved in his equally beautiful handwriting.

“Aemond…this is…”

You simply couldn’t find the words. So, you did the one thing you felt could express what you were feeling. You kissed him.

You almost threw yourself at him, the books discarded at the side as Aemond scrambled to catch you. Arms wrapping immediately around your waist and holding your body to his. Your legs straddled his waist, and you poured every ounce of affection and desire into your kiss.

Soon, Aemond reciprocated. Sliding a hand into your hair as his other gripped at your thigh.

He’d imagined everything about what kissing you would be like. How your lips would feel, how you would taste and how your body would feel beneath his hands.

The reality was more than he could ever imagine. And he wasn’t about to waste a single second.

Your own hands roamed over his body, gripping the soft, silk of his shirt while the other began to push the coat from his shoulders. You didn’t care that you were outside, there was no one here anyway.

All you needed was him.

Aemond shrugged his coat from his shoulders. The moment the fabric slid from his body, he moved to lay you on your back. The picnic could wait. You were the only meal he wished to devour.

Your dress bunched around your waist. Aemond slipped easily between your legs, and you could feel just how much he was enjoying the kiss. The swollen length of him pressing against you with only his jeans as a barrier.

His hips instinctively began to roll against yours, the hand on your thigh pulling your leg up to wrap around his slim waist. His lips began to trail down your neck and your head tilted back to let him continue his path.

Your breath came out in soft pants, your hand tangling into his hair as his lips settled on the exposed skin of your chest. Just as the first moan left your lips, Aemond pulled back.

His eye found yours, the blue entirely eclipsed by his pupil. Pure lust settled in his gaze.

“Shall I ravage you as I promised, my love?” Aemond leaned down, teeth nibbling at your ear lobe as he spoke.

You pushed your hips up against his in response. Words were failing you, but you could see in the look he gave you that he wanted your words.

“Please, Aemond, please…”

Your voice was embarrassingly whiny, need dripping from every syllable. And his response was immediate, latching his lips back onto your neck with a little more force this time.

“Whatever my love wishes, she will have. Your pleasure will know no bounds…”

His words were muffled as he buried his face into the swell of your chest, but what he said didn’t really matter anymore. All you both needed know was the touch of the other.

Your eyes rolled back as he continued his descent down your body. Pushing your dress higher as he reached your core. Your hand tangled tight in his hair, the pain only spurring Aemond on.

This was like a dream. The softness of your skin, the scent of your arousal as he licked a stripe over your clothed cunt. Aemond wished to commit every second to his memory.

He draped your legs over his shoulders, feeling you shift to rest on your elbows. The idea of you watching him had a heat licking up Aemond’s spine in the most delicious way.

Slim fingers tugged your underwear down your legs, a smirk thrown your way as he tucked them into his jeans.

“A souvenir?” you asked, chewing on your lip in anticipation as the cool air hit your slick folds.

Aemond didn’t answer, head dipping back down and settling between your thighs. His breath hot against your skin, sending goosebumps over the flesh of your thighs.

The moan you let out as his tongue licked over your core was almost sinful. Echoing through the empty graveyard as your head dropped back in pleasure. The sound only spurred Aemond on, now lapping at your folds as if he was a man starved.

“Delicious, so fucking delicious…” he almost growled the words into your body, sending vibrations through you that only heightened your desire for him.

His lips latched onto your pearl, suckling it between them and relishing the high-pitched keen that fell from your lips in return. He could already feel your thighs tightening around his head and Aemond was desperate to taste you on his tongue.

Your hand tightened to the point of pain in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp in a way that had him moaning into your cunt. He was rewarded with a fresh gush of slick over his tongue. Your fleshy walls pulsing around his tongue as he delved back in.

His name was like a prayer on your lips, chanting it over and over again as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Come for me, my beautiful creature…” Aemond grunted out the command as you tugged his face harder against your body, rolling your hips against his face.

Everything had sparks of pleasure biting at your body. His tongue licking at your walls, the slope of his nose rubbing against your clit in the most perfect way, his grip on your thighs almost painful.

You came with a scream of his name, a final pull on his hair earning you a hiss of pain but Aemond didn’t relent. He lapped up everything you gave him until you had to wriggle away from overstimulation.

“Fuck…” your voice was barely more than a whisper as you pulled Aemond back up your body.

Your skin was flushed, your cunt still pulsing as your high slowly left you. But Aemond’s hardened cock pressing against your damp core reminded you that he still needed to be taken care of.

And Aemond could see the look of mischief in your eyes. Your hips canting up to press your soaked core against him.

“Insatiable, hmm? Do you wish me to take you here, among the dead?”

You pressed your lips to his, sliding a hand between you to palm at the thick bulge in his jeans.

“I would let you take me anywhere; I am desperate for you…”

Your teeth tugged at his lip, his eye rolling back in his head.

“Besides, you did say you would ravage me.”

You punctuated your words with a squeeze of his cock, rubbing your palm down the length of it as he dropped his head to your neck. A few more touches had his cock twitching beneath your palm. Your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper. Aemond came back to his senses just enough to push his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself.

He immediately lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing inside. The head of his cock stretching your walls in a way that had your sighing out his name.

The day had gotten darker, but it only made the whole experience more perfect. The sun beginning to set just as Aemond began to thrust into you, the orange glow illuminating him from behind. His silver hair painted gold and his skin almost glowing.

“Yes, oh, yes…”

Your moans were the only sound Aemond ever wished to hear. His name had never sounded more beautiful that when it fell from your lips in pleasure.

His hands tangled with yours as he held them high above your head. His thrusts slow but punishing, feeling like he was filling every inch of your core.

“You are everything I need, my darling. A dream come true, a dream I never wish to wake from…”

Aemond’s words were answered with your mewls and moans, your heels in the small of his back spurring him on. His rhythm sped up in response, all but pounding into you with abandon.

You were both now solely chasing your pleasure. The only sound aside from your joined moans was the rustle of leaves and the faint cawing of birds.

Aemond’s lips locked with yours as he felt your walls clench around him. Pleasure overtook you and he drank down every one of your cries as his own release was milked from his cock with every twitch and pulse of your cunt.

His movements slowed, but he wasn’t ready to pull from your body just yet. He released your hands, resting his head against your chest. Your hands found his hair and back, calmly stroking as you both relaxed.

Neither of you knew what to say, but you both felt it. A calmness, a connection that tugged at both your hearts.

Aemond had known you were meant for him from the moment he had seen that first photo. But you, you believed it now. No one had made you feel as he did for the longest time.

It wasn’t love; it was more. Something darker, deeper.

You felt empty as Aemond pulled out of you, finding something to clean you up with. But it wasn’t before you were wrapped in his embrace again.

“I’m so happy I met you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Though I fear I cannot be without you now.”

Aemond pulled away, tilting your face up to his.

“Darling, you’re already in my veins.”

The kiss he pressed to your lips was filled with nothing but love and promise. Promise of a darker, deeper love that you had only ever read about.

A love you would now get to experience.

Aemond Taglist:

@legitalicat @anjelicawrites @sylasthegrim @aemondsbabe

@aemondsbabygirl @blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl

@thenameswinter99 @tumblin-theworldaway @kaelatargaryen

@hoosbandewan @thought--bubble @mysticalendings

@towriteloveontheirarms @arcielee

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 5- Can I Hold Your Hand?

Here is day 4, a bit of cutie dadrry <3 Enjoy!

FICTOBER Prompt list and Masterlist

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WC-700+

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“Can I hold your hand?” The small voice peeped up at him. Their son in his train conductor costume had been insistent that he was too big to hold his father’s hand, he was a big boy now and he could do trick or treating all by himself. 

Y/N pushed the baby carriage, his little sister still a drooly little baby with a plush pumpkin costume on her body and a tiny hat on her head to keep her warm as the october air chilled up. His wife was dressed up in a poodle skirt and letterman jacket, a little tie around her neck and a bouncy ponytail bobbing as she walked. Harry had chosen function this halloween, wearing jeans and a black leather jacket. His saddle shoes were the only thing he purchased for the getup, his hair slicked back in a 50’s like manner- except that one strand that escaped and curled over his head. Y/N had been adamant he not try and fix it, it apparently did something to her. 

“Yeah? Not too big to hold my hand now, mate?” He teased, placing his hand down for the smaller one to take. Their gait was slow, their son not the fastest with his Thomas the Tank Engine soft cut out around his body. It made him a big more clumsy, too, which is why Harry was glad Y/N had put knee guards and gloves on him.

“No. I’m am big, but I don’t like all the noises.” He tried to maintain, but the spooky music filtering through the neighborhood and sound effects of the motion sensor activated decor making the poor thing jump. Hell, one of those things had even made Harry clutch his chest as he had approached the front door to ring for candy. What was with these things getting more and more accessible to the public? He remembered the only time he used to see these things were in haunted houses he went to in uni. Now it seemed everyone on the block had a jumpscare waiting to strike. Stupid screaming skeleton. 

“It’s okay, baby.” Y/N crooned. “Did you know that on one of our first dates, Daddy took me to see a movie and got so scared he screeched?” It was true, but it was justified. Most of the room had jumped or made a noise too- it just so happened that his had been a bit more loud and high pitched than he would have liked. 

Harry looked at her with narrowed eyes, scoffing as his wife grinned like the little shit she was. Really? “Are you ever going to let me live that down? I told you, it was just a bad jump scare. You jumped too.” He looked towards their son, who was giggling simply because Y/N was. “Mumma’s being silly. It’s not a bad thing to scream either, it’s natural.” 

“But you’re so big and old, Daddy. You can’t get scared.” He giggled, his fingers squeezing on to Harry’s as they approached another pathway to go up to the house. It was decked out in cobwebs and had some cool orange and purple lighting, spooky sound effects filtering through hidden speakers in the bushes. The howl of a wolf sounded, having him step closer to Harry’s leg. “You go with me?”

“What’s this, then hm? Make fun of me for being scared and then asking me to go?” He ruffled the conductor hat on his head. “You’re lucky I love you loads and Mumma is afraid of the spiders in those webs or I’d made you go with her.” It was all in jest, Y/N simply shrugging. How was she supposed to know what spiders were fake or real? It would be a perfect place for one to hide and jump into her hair!

“It’s okay to be afraid of things, baby. Your father is just silly. Even sillier than me.” Her hand came up to squish Harry’s chin, letting her lipstick give a big kiss mark on his cheek, the bright red in the perfect shape of her lips. When she pulled back, there were loud giggles as the mark was revealed. Harry didn’t mind, clearly, blushing slightly as he knew exactly what she had done, but to their son it was apparently the funniest thing in the world. Y/N shot him a playful glare before threatening him with the same.  “Go on, then. Or you’re getting a kiss mark from me too. Grab Mumma a chocolate if there is one.”

[babybemydownfall]

things that shimmer in the dark Part IV: Rhys ( Part III ) There was no point denying it so I kissed her instead, hard and demanding. I wanted her tongue on mine, her body melting, opening for me; wanted to make love to her, to feel her surrender - to us, and everything we could be.  AKA An all night love-fest in the Archeron manor. Definitely NSFW. Read on AO3 or under the cut below. (Also, I only recently realised that my avatar, which comes from a poem by Iain S Thomas and which I've had for 10+ years, is Rhysand: There you are. I've been looking for you. How spooky.)

II

By the time we retired to bed after finalising our letter to the Queens, it was gone midnight. Feyre was tense and exhausted. I’d felt her all afternoon and evening, her shield weak, her emotions pouring out across our bond. She’d been anxious and angry; frustrated and forgiving. And whenever she looked at me, she burned.

I had worn a mask all my life, ingrained in me from a young age. And I had very rarely let it slip, despite times when I’d felt overwhelming rage or fear or despair. But it turned out that the most powerful distraction of all was lust. Whenever Feyre turned her beautiful blue-grey eyes on me, I struggled to stay composed, to keep my expression neutral and my breathing even. When her awful oldest sister questioned whether she was too good for human food anymore and Feyre replied that she could eat, drink, fuck and fight even better than before, my fork clanged to my plate as everything inside me went taut with desire. I wanted her so badly, so immediately, that it took every ounce of my willpower not to grab her and winnow us straight back to my house.

And later, as we wrote and rewrote the damned letter, the four of us arguing over each word and punctuation mark, her closeness was certainly a hindrance. When she leaned in to read what I’d written, I felt her long hair brushing my neck; the curve of her breast against my arm. The scent of her skin, of her arousal, was intoxicating. I would not let Cass and Azriel suspect a thing but whenever I was sure they weren’t looking, I touched her as much as I dared - my finger brushing hers on the page; my thigh shifting on my chair so it pressed against her knee. I loved the way her body reacted: a soft, short inhale; a pulse of longing down the bond.

I found myself thinking multiple times that I was so glad we had had each other in the kitchen earlier. I couldn’t imagine how difficult the rest of the day would have been without that release. And I had meant what I’d said to her there: this thing between us was a bad idea, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I had spent the previous day avoiding her, my mind constantly churning over what I should do. Getting drunk hadn’t helped - I only ended up sad and missing her. I had barely slept afterwards, thanks to the alcohol and my racing thoughts and the memories of our first morning together which left me with a very persistent erection.

When she found me in the kitchen, I still didn’t know what the right thing to do was. But as soon as I scented her, when I saw how fucking stunning she looked and how she went slack with longing for me, I realised there was no actual choice here. I couldn’t just bare myself to her - literally and emotionally - and simply walk away. She was my mate. This was bigger than both of us: it was what the Cauldron had destined; a bond more sacred and permanent than any other. It was inescapable. Undeniable. And Feyre didn’t know the truth, but I knew she felt it too: that we were something extraordinary.

And now, finally, we were alone together once again. She hadn’t reacted when I’d said we would share a room - a room I had immediately shielded, to keep loud sounds in and bad things out. But she did turn to me in surprise when I made my own bed appear and sat down on it.

“What are you doing?”

I looked up at her, still dressed in her stunning turquoise outfit. She wore it like she belonged in the Night Court. Or perhaps it wore her. It wanted her - just as I did.

“Being on my best behaviour,” I replied evenly. “We’re in your father’s house. I didn’t know if you’d want to…”

“I’ve spent all evening trying to keep my hands off you. And now you don’t want to touch me?”

She sounded like she was annoyed with me, which made me smile. “Oh, I do want to touch you, Feyre darling.” My voice was low. “Every single inch of you.”

There was a fire crackling in the hearth across the room and it shone in her dark eyes, in the golden waves of her hair. I leaned back on my outstretched arms and her gaze travelled down my body. I was still fully dressed but she knew what lay beneath now; and if I hadn’t been wearing black, she would have been able to see my cock rise in my pants.

“The last time I was in this house,” she said quietly, “I left to run after Tamlin. To go under the mountain and save him. And yet here I am, barely any time later… with you.” She tugged at her sleeve, looking around the room. “That’s wrong, isn’t it?”

I waited until her eyes met mine again. She seemed so vulnerable, so young all of a sudden. “I don’t think it is,” I told her honestly. “I don’t think time is what matters, in our case.”

“Then what does matter?”

I held out my hand. “Come here.”

Slowly she moved towards me and took it, standing between my legs. I may as well have been kneeling before her again, such was her position of power over me right now.

“What matters, Feyre, is how you feel. What makes you happy. What helps you heal. And I think I can speak to that, because you are all those things for me. Already.”

I felt her tremble in front of me. She was scared. And I knew why - but I couldn’t hide the depth of my feelings from her. I didn’t want to.

“Why does this seem so… inevitable?” she whispered.

Because I am your mate.

I could have told her then. No doubt it would have helped ease the guilt she still carried over Tamlin, the confusion she felt over us. But this was not the place: not in the human lands, in her family home; not when there was danger out there, lurking beyond my Court’s protection. And not when it meant I would have to face her rejection - because she wasn’t ready yet. Wasn’t healed, wasn’t strong enough. And neither was I, to have her push me away.

For now I would take whatever she was willing to give - her friendship, her smiles, her body - and not think too far into the future. As she had so wisely said: we might all die soon. And I would be a fool not to enjoy every moment with her, because I had known from the second I first saw her that she was the light in my eternal darkness.

Instead of saying any of that, I lifted my hands to her hips and guided her to straddle my lap. She did so without hesitation, settling halfway along my thighs - not near enough to feel how hard I was for her. Not yet. But having her this close, all to myself behind a locked door, I felt my soul sigh.

There you are. I’ve been looking for you.

“Perhaps it is inevitable,” I said softly. “The question is, what do you want to do about it? You are in charge here. I will follow your lead.”

I had never uttered those words before, outside of battle when I fell in line behind my commander. But I trusted Feyre with everything I was. I saw her, with all her broken pieces and her courageous human heart and the magic she contained which had nothing to do with her powers. I wanted it all.

And she wanted me too. It was in her beautiful eyes; written all over her face. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her neck. I felt her body melt in my arms, her head tilting back. My name rose from her lips to the ceiling, like a prayer.

“Rhys.”

I kissed her there again, the scent of her blood filling my senses; moved up to her ear where I breathed: “What do you want, darling?”

Her fingers slid into my hair, drawing me back so she could look at me. At the same time, I took hold of her hips and pulled her into me, connecting the heat of her core with the raging hardness of mine.

The air sparked around us and we both groaned.

“You,” Feyre murmured, her breath on my mouth, her gaze filled with nothing but lust - that most powerful of emotions, sweeping everything else aside. “I want you. All over me. All night long.”

A smile started to form on my lips but she kissed me before it got there. And from that moment on, we were lost. Our hands slipped beneath each other’s clothes onto warm, sensitive skin. I had never had the pleasure of physically undressing her before, of slowly revealing her exquisite body inch by inch. I followed the fabric of her top with my lips, from her navel to her ribcage to her bare breasts, so pert and full and ready for my attention. She moaned so headily when I circled my tongue over her nipples and I could smell her arousal as it flooded her underwear, as she ground herself against my length.

The top disappeared over her head and then we worked together to remove mine as well. As our mouths found each other again I slid my arm up along the column of her spine, my hand splayed between her shoulder blades, and drew her further into me so her bare chest pressed against mine. Her kisses were voracious, her moans constant as she rocked her hips and took her pleasure from me.

Untamed Feyre was the hottest thing I had ever encountered.

And then she suddenly pulled back to look at me, her eyes so dark with desire, her voice husky as she commanded: “Take me to bed, Rhys.”

I could not have refused her if my life depended on it.

I carried her there, drawing back the duvet and laying her down. I had already warmed the sheets and she looked surprised, grateful. But she didn’t speak - couldn’t, perhaps - as she grasped at my shoulders and pulled me onto her, reclaiming my mouth, touching every part of me within reach. I covered us again, burying down with her into the softness of the bed as we kissed on and on. I had never known how thoroughly arousing it was, to be half-bare and writhing around by the light of the fire, our sounds hushed and urgent. Despite my shield, we were both aware of my brothers just next door, of Feyre’s sisters down the hall - but that only added to the mood.

This was secret and sacred and ours.

I eventually trailed my lips down to her breasts again, and then further - kissing her centre through her trousers before kneeling between her legs and slipping them off entirely. She was wearing the same lacy white panties I’d watched her put back on in the kitchen, and they were wet through. I heard myself growl as I pulled them off too, the urge to taste her impossible to resist, but she stopped me from getting anywhere near her with her bare foot on my chest.

I stared at her, unable to fathom why she would deny me.

“I’m in charge, remember?” she said firmly. “Lie down.”

Giving up control was not natural for me - but Feyre was a goddess and I obeyed.

She made very quick work of my pants and underwear, and then slid all the way down the bed and wrapped her hot mouth around me. I had never known anything so good before: the sight of her there, the brush of her hair and her hands on my thighs and abdomen, the way she sucked and licked and bobbed up and down-

I reached for her after barely any time at all, tugging on her shoulders, groaning her name. But she ignored me and carried on. Her eyes met mine and I imprinted the image in my mind, of the lust and determination in her gaze, of my cock disappearing between her lips over and over again, her rhythm faultless, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Feyre,” I gasped, “I’m-”

She scratched her fingernails all the way down my torso and I came, so hard I lost all of my senses for the longest, most ecstatic moment. I felt her fingers cover my mouth, to keep me quiet, but there was no fucking chance when her tongue was still swirling over me, when my hips were still bucking and I was still coming. It was unbearable and heavenly and I never, ever wanted it to end.

Eventually I did return to the present; felt Feyre retreat and opened my eyes to find her looking down at me with a very satisfied smirk. I was too dazed to speak, to tell her how fucking amazing she felt and what I wanted to do to her next - but it didn’t matter. She had let her fingers drift down onto my chest; I took her wrist and brought her palm back to my lips, licking the tattooed eye there in a single broad stroke. Her smirk disappeared as she felt me in her very core.

I tugged on her hips, pulling her up my body until she was kneeling over my face. She braced herself on the headboard and I inhaled her incredible scent, all her muscles trembling, her breathing shallow, ragged. And then I feasted on her, gorging myself on her softness and her taste, eating her gorgeous cunt until she was all over my face. I kneaded her ass, explored her thighs; slid two fingers inside her and fucked her like that while I sucked on her clit. She came in no time at all, with a muffled scream and a gush of wetness which I lapped up like I was dying of thirst.

When she collapsed onto me, I gently drew her back down into bed to lie by my side so we were facing one another, our limbs loosely entwined. I took half a second to clean my face with magic, but left her taste on my tongue. It would be sacrilege to erase that.

She smiled, gazing at me through heavily lidded eyes. “You are very good at that,” she said, and she shivered - an aftershock. It made my cock ache for her.

“You taste fucking divine, Feyre. I can’t get enough of you. And your mouth…” I outlined her lips with my thumb; they parted and I traced over her bottom teeth too. “So pretty, yet so wicked. I’ve never felt anything so phenomenal.”

I pressed my lower body into hers, letting her know I was ready for more. She looked straight at me and bit down on my nail, firm enough to hurt. Beneath the duvet I felt her hand wrap around my length. Flames roared to life in my blood once more and I hissed, like the wild beast I was.

“So eager,” she teased, licking the sensitive pad of my thumb.

There was no point denying it so I kissed her instead, hard and demanding. I wanted her tongue on mine, her body melting, opening for me; wanted to make love to her, to feel her surrender - to us, and everything we could be. Without thinking I reached for her down the bond, needing her closer, even though physically there was no space between us. As I felt her grip onto me, an embrace around my very soul, I rolled on top of her perfect body and thrust inside her: back where I belonged.

She cried out at being so full; hooked her legs around my waist, inviting me deeper, and I moved slowly at first, trying to be restrained until that became impossible. She felt so good, so right, that I just couldn’t contain myself. And she wanted it: I felt her desire envelop mine inside my mind, where we were intertwined; swallowed the words she gasped into my mouth - “Harder… More… Rhys! Fuck… Yes, more…”

I tilted her pelvis with my hand and reached new depths, and she broke away from my kiss to let out the most guttural sound as she clenched and shook and stretched around me. I dipped my head, sucking on her neck, her right breast, her nipple; kept rolling my hips, fucking her faster and harder than ever before. We were both grunting, moaning, sweat on our skin, her nails digging into my back - and then we were coming, together, a crescendo of movement and sound and rising, cresting pleasure that felt like it would never end.

It didn’t, for a long time. I might have drifted off to sleep briefly, for when I next opened my eyes I was lying on my front on the bed, the duvet over my lower body, feeling more relaxed than I had in decades.

I reached out for Feyre down the bond, checking she was okay; felt her in the adjoining bathroom and closed my eyes again, letting myself doze. Eventually I heard her footsteps on the carpet and then the bed shifted as she sat beside me. Her fingertips traced lightly down my spine and I groaned at how nice it felt.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos here,” she said softly. “And your wings…” She touched the strong muscles of my upper back. “I want to see you with them.”

My voice was so low it made my ribcage vibrate. “You have.”

“Naked,” she clarified.

I smiled. “One day. Not here.”

She leaned in, surrounding me with her scent, her hair; pressed gentle kisses to my ear, my cheek, the corner of my lips. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched me with so much tenderness. The last time anyone had cared about me like this. It made my throat hurt.

When I finally opened my eyes her face was all I could see, so close to mine, our every breath shared. She smiled and sat back up, and that’s when I realised she was wearing my shirt. It was unbuttoned, and she was still completely naked beneath. I had never seen anything so sexy.

My emotions were forgotten in an instant.

“Feyre.”

I rose up, kneeling in front of her, taking her in.

“I was cold,” she said, a little defensive, a little surprised by the strength of my reaction.

“You look…” I reached for her, pulling her against me. I had thought I was completely sated - I was wrong. “Let me warm you up.”

This insatiable need for each other, this wild passion - it felt endless. Frenzied. We fell to the bed and she straddled my waist, discarding the shirt to the floor. As she began to kiss me all over, the small part of my brain which remained functional wondered what would happen if she ever accepted the mating bond. How we would survive.

Then it gave in as Feyre washed over me, as I let myself drown in her once again.

When she rode me she held my hands, our fingers interlaced. I could do nothing but stare at her. The way the firelight danced over the planes of her body as she moved; the flush on her skin, the dark desire pouring from her eyes. I was no painter, but she was a piece of art.

“Feyre darling,” I breathed, grazing my palms along her thighs, feeling my climax building slowly, deliciously. “Will you touch yourself for me? I want to watch you.”

Her dream of me was only a night ago - it felt like a century.

She put her fingers in my mouth and I licked them, my desire rocketing at how fearless she was, how unembarrassed. If I had thought she’d be hesitant in bed or perhaps shied by our age gap, by her relative lack of experience, I was wrong. And yet she was not a sultry, confident vixen either. I could only conclude that she really did trust me, enough to be herself, to show herself to me - to be bare in every possible way.

And that made me more hopeful for our future together than anything else we’d said or done.

Now she circled her clit, her left hand holding her breast, pinching her nipple. Her tattoos were a stunning contrast to the rest of her pale skin. When the sensations became too much, her head tilted back and her spine arched, her long messy curls almost reaching her bottom. And still I watched, my hips now thrusting of their own accord, meeting her movements. I was already at the edge; could have let myself fall at any second. But I held on, waiting for her, completely awed by how fucking incredible she was.  

If things had been different, I would have told her I loved her. The words were on the tip of my tongue, filling my mind. I let the smallest trickle of that golden feeling travel down the bond to her. Even though she didn’t know its name, I knew she liked it - saw the smile on her lips, felt her clench and tighten as I pounded into her harder, faster, as she peaked and then shattered.

It was too much. I lifted her off me, turning her onto her front, pulling up her hips. She was weak, boneless; still in the throes of her pleasure. “You have to be quiet,” I rasped and then I thrust inside her again, deeper than ever before. Her hands fisted the duvet and she bit it, her screams subdued but still there, still heavenly to hear.

“Feyre,” I groaned, the sweetest sound in the world. “Fuck, Feyre. You feel- I’m so- ”

I spilled inside her with a roar, breaking my own rule but utterly unable to care. I felt her coming too, a continuation of her last orgasm. Endless, all-consuming fulfilment.

This time we were both thoroughly done. I fell to her side, bringing her body with me so I was spooned up behind her, quickly cleaning us up with half a thought. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to move again. I didn’t want to. I pressed my face into her neck, inhaling her, wishing I could disappear into her forever. If there was nothing else but this, I would die happy.

Our breathing gradually slowed. The fire had burned low, the moon now illuminating us through the uncovered window. I ran the fingers of my left hand along the ink on Feyre’s arm, watching as the soft blonde hairs stood on end in my wake. I knew the bond that tied us together wasn’t the bargain that had been written on her skin: it was the mating bond. That’s why we could communicate, why we could feel so much of each other. I wondered how it would change if we were ever truly mated. How much more of her I would feel, how deeply I would know her. I wanted her to be mine so badly it made my soul ache.

The bond was another secret I kept. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold it inside.

“What time is it?” she asked, her words merging into a yawn.

“Fuck knows.” I was tired and emotional, which always made me swear more. That and having sex with Feyre.

I pulled the covers over us and then looked outside. The air was still and crisp. There had been snowfall earlier, but it had stopped now. “Usually,” I said, voicing my thoughts aloud, “I can feel the night. The coming of the dawn. But the darkness is different on this side of the Wall. It’s not… mine.”

She turned her head towards me. The moonlight caught her eyes, making them shine. “I love your darkness,” she said quietly. “I feel it, under my skin. It soothes me. Of all the powers I was given, yours is my favourite.”

You were made for me, I wanted to tell her. Wanted to shout it, for the whole world to hear. It’s so obvious. Can’t you see?

And then she went on sleepily: “The nights feel longer here. I was born on the longest, actually. The Winter Solstice.”

I was stunned. Totally speechless. She must have mistaken my silence for fatigue, because she whispered goodnight and in less than a minute, she was asleep.

I held her, wide awake, heart hammering. I kissed the point of her ear and murmured, so softly it was almost inaudible: “You are my mate, Feyre Archeron. And I fucking love you.”

II

TBC...

[cookeybg]

The Colony Possessed - Chapter 4

Title: The Colony Possessed

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

Narrators: Hal Jordan, Barry Allen, OC - Kam, John Constantine, will add others as chapters progress

Honorable Mentions: Wally West, Talia Al Ghul, Damian Al Ghul

No romantic relationships

Stuff to Know: Cryptid Batfamily, maybe a bit spooky, Hopefully a bit amusing, Gotham LOVES Batman and she always will, it's concerning

[The Colony Possessed Table of Contents]

Chapter 4 - It feeds off you, mate

“I know you’re there.” John Constantine called out to the dark, hands buried in the pockets of his beige trench-coat, legs spread shoulder width apart, smoke rising from the lit cigarette he smoked. He knew that Bats would not appreciate his presence in his city, but anything out of the ordinary, anything remotely devilish or cursed was his business so, his old pal could suck it. The alley darkened to the point where he could only see a few feet in front of him. The shadows coalesced and bright green eyes shone, no pupil, no white, just pointy green like upside down half moons. The shadows giggled, they caressed his hair, a shiver ran down his spine. “Hello.” The voice echoed against the brick walls, female sounding, soft. The pair of eyes faded in and out in the dark. “No, no,” John shook a finger at it, “I need all of your attention.” John stomped his foot on the ground and an elaborate circle with sigils lit up, causing the shadows to hiss. All at once the shadows darkened and gathered in one spot on the ground in front of him. It was in the shape of a petite woman, long wavy black hair that moved like smoke draped her back, her body the color of coal and acid eyes green eyes glared at him. “What do you want, friend.” She hissed. “Friend, eh? What’s my new friend’s name?” She tilted her head and simply said, “Gotham.” John whistled in surprised, rocking his body back and forth on his heels, “A sentient city.” He knew it! From the day he met the Bat, something wasn’t right. If he ignored his broody countenance, his sharp words, and his gloomy disposition, he could feel another presence hanging off the Bat. It was subtle and vague, cleverly hidden.

He hadn’t been sure, thought that maybe it had been something else. He had even gone to the Watch Tower after he heard of the rumors of it possibly being haunted and found nothing. Bats though, exuded something supernatural, no matter if the grump claimed to not believe in the occult. Heck he had felt it in the man’s children, in his cave, but whenever he looked too closely the thing would disappear. Until recently. The presence had gotten stronger. The proof stood in front of him, it had taken a humanoid form, no longer just an essence. Mixed with something else, something vicious. “I know of your type. Calls herself Angela. Good for a fun time but brings me trouble. What do you want with Bats?” Gotham was no longer looking at John, instead she stared at her hands the shape of long pointy fingers shrinking into dull stubs, she wiggled them. “I’m his, my Bat.” She eventually responded. John watched her as she moved her legs, feet forming solidly, toes wiggling on the sodden cobbled stones. This was going to be troublesome. A city who thought it belonged to a human. Gotham touched her face, its shadowy tendrils taking shape into a proper jawline, lips, nose and forehead. Her hands trailed down her body and she jumped up and down, her breasts bouncing. John enjoyed the show. “You’re a city. You don’t belong to anyone.” Gotham flicked her wrists and a flowy black dress appeared to cover her body, she looked up at him, her almond eyes wide. “I’m his. Fixes me. Loves me.” John nodded as if that made sense. Gotham had an innocence to her despite it existing for hundreds of years. Honestly, he had expected her to be twisted and blood thirsty with the way Gothamites lived here. With all the corruption, death and the crazies. He was surprised that it seemed it hadn’t affected her. “Let me go?” she said tilting her head. John hummed. “Not yet, gotta figure out what to do with you. Does Bats know you exist?” “They know.” Gotham pointed up. John’s eyes followed and were met with four pairs of white eyes, narrowed. They perched like the gargoyles that sat sentinel in the city skylines. He flinched at the crack of a bullet being fired. It ricocheted off the floor next to his feet. “Oy!” The circle flickered. Gotham jumped, floating up so that John’s eyes were met with hers. She cupped his face, her smile unnaturally wide, brilliantly white, and stared deeply into his eyes. Blunt fingers turning sharp, digging into his cheeks before relenting, before making him bleed. “Thank you, friend of my Bat.” She dissipated, leaving him with the ominous birds. He looked up at them, he could feel her presence within them. “Get out of Gotham.” Their words bounced off the brick walls around him, he swore he could hear the flutter of wings at their departure. “It feeds off you, mate.” John said, to no one.

Sorry for the not updating, been having a rough few days (weeks, I guess). Been wanting to write but couldn't get myself to move. Anyways, I will be updating a few of my other fics now, I hope you enjoy them! <3

[tyrian-witch]

In This World of My Own | Chapter One: Something Normal For Once

(Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader)

Takes place in the fall of 1985, after the events of season 3 (aka Starcourt Mall fire womp womp), reader is graduating high school as it’s her last year.

*Reader is afab and goes by she/her pronouns, given last name (to be revealed*

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic on tumblr so I’m a little new to it, and this is also my first time writing a Stranger Things fic :P

Warnings: None that I know of (unless you count my crappy writing), semi-proof read, fluff question mark? Robin being a good wingman for Steve. Slow burn?? Oh and some minor swearing

Word count: don’t know, don’t care

masterlist

~~~

October, 1985

Fall is the superior season, and what better place to enjoy it than in the small town of Hawkins? Sure, it wasn’t perfect (nothing really is to be honest), and it had this eeriness to it, but it wasn’t that bad.

If anything, the beauty of fall made up for any lingering spookiness that might have lurked in the shadows, but it was fine!

You’ve heard rumours and conspiracy theories of aliens and other things when you moved to Hawkins 2 months ago, but you thought those rumours were silly.

You didn’t really pay any mind to it, simply because you thought it might be some sort of silly hoax or whatnot. Maybe, just maybe it could be possible, but at the same time time, who knows!

For now though, it was your time to enjoy the lovely autumn environment that currently surrounded you.

It was a cloudy Thursday afternoon in October, and as soon as school finishes at 3 o’clock, you gather your things and book it out of there.

You mount on your bike, but you weren’t really in a hurry given that your shift at the local coffee shop wasn’t for another thirty minutes and it wasn’t too far away either - you figure you could get there early anyways because why not? You had nothing better to do, you were pretty much caught up on everything.

On your way there, you take in the beauty of your environment and silently thank Mother Nature for it as you cruise by yourself along the road, all while the jaunty tune of Pink Shoelaces plays on your Walkman. You feel good.

~~~

It’s very slow today, there’s hardly any customers.

You think there’d be some people coming in, especially after school. Maybe that’s just you. The Hawkins Cafe is a cozy spot, just on the corner of Main Street. In a way, you were glad it wasn’t very crowded, but again, it was concerning if you were at work doing nothing. What would be the point? You’re still getting paid, but no customers to serve. Bummer.

To kill the time, you decided to tidy up your station.

You were working by yourself, but whoever was in your place last did not do a good job of keeping the space clean. You even found a big coffee leak under the coffee maker that was left unattended.

“The hell happened here?” you mutter. You lift it up and some of the liquid spreads on the counter. “Ah shit, what the fuck? Seriously, are you kidding me?”

As you begin wiping down the spill, the sound of the doorbell chimes, signalling that someone has entered.

“Just a second!” you call out.

You finish cleaning up, before turning around to see, not one, but two customers: a guy and a girl. The girl had short blonde hair and freckles, and the guy had brown hair, and by the way it was styled, you could tell he took pride in it. It looked so soft, you could just reach out and touch it.

Huh?

You put on your best customer service face and smile. Wiping your hands on your apron, you say “Hi, what can I get for you today?”

“Hi!” the girl says. “I’ll have an espresso, please.”

“Okay, can I get your name?”

“Robin” the girl says with a smile. “We have biology together.”

You look at her, squinting briefly. Then it hits you: “Oh, yeah that’s right. Robin Buckley?”

She nods, still smiling.

You turn to the guy and say: “And what can I get for you?”

“Oh uh, I’ll just have a black coffee with some milk and 2 sugars, please.”

You nod, jotting both their orders down. Looking back at him again you ask for his name.

“Steve,” he tells you, offering a friendly smile.

“Okay, one espresso and one black coffee with milk and two sugars coming up” you affirm, heading to your station.

Meanwhile, Robin and Steve were sitting at one of the tables, talking amongst themselves.

“Veronica canceled on me,” Steve says, almost dejectedly.

“And why would that be?” Robin asks.

He pulls a face and shrugs before running a hand through his hair. “I dunno.”

Robin lowers her voice. “I think the issue is that you try to hard to charm the ladies, you just… fling yourself at them,” she tells him, doing a flinging motion with her hands to demonstrate.

“For your information, Buckley, I was this close,” he pinches his index finger and thumb together, “to going on a date with her.”

“Then why did she cancel?” 

“She said she had a family emergency,” Steve says matter-of-factly.

Robin scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Family emergency? Yeah, right.”

“What?” Steve has a confused look. “What’s wrong with that?” he asks.

He receives a look of disbelief from his friend. “Oh my gosh- okay,” she says. “You do realize that a “‘family emergency’,” she air quotes, “is just an excuse to get out of stuff, like a date, right?” She goes on.

As she’s explaining this, you catch his attention as your making their beverages. He wonders about you. Come to think of it, you’re really pretty. Wait-

“Hello, are you listening?” Robin waves a hand in his face.

Before he could say anything, he sees you coming over and stops his staring you make your way to their table, drinks in hand. “Here you go, is there anything else you two would like? you ask.

“No, thank you” they politely tell you.

You smile. “All right then. Enjoy!” Turning on your heal, you resume your front-of-house duties at the counter, awaiting new customers.

Steve watches you while you work, taking sips of his drink. In the midst of enjoying the caffeine, Robin catches this. Her eyes light up, as if a switch just went on.

“You should ask her out” she tells him.

“Huh?

Robin briefly glances in your direction.

“No, I- there’s no way-”

“Why not?” she almost yells.

“I don’t- wanna scare her off,” he says in a hushed voice.

“You don’t have to scare her off, dingus. Have you ever thought about taking things slow? Just relax.” Robin swiftly gets up from her seat then, making her way to the counter.

“Nonononono wait! What are you doing?” Steve whispers through gritted teeth.”

Robin grins cheekily. “Getting you back in your game!”

Steve was worried you could hear their conversation this entire time, but you had put your Walkman back on since it seemed like it was going to be empty for a little while longer, meaning your service wasn’t needed.

Steve feels nervous about whatever Robin is planning. If she even blows his chance to go on a date with you, he doesn’t know how he’d handle it. He normally doesn’t get flustered or embarrassed often. But he sees you now. He recalls seeing you around before, yes, you were new, but he never really paid you any mind. But he sees you - what could he do? Scare the new girl away before she even had a chance to know him, and vice versa? No way.

He wants to learn how to take things slow and easy, and not to “fling” himself like Robin said. He’d at least like to properly get to know you first, to have a chance at that. Now that he’s finally gotten a break from having to fight monsters from another dimension, he actually has the time on his hands to do something normal for once; in this case, meeting you.

“Hi again!”

Through the corner of your eye, you see Robin at the counter and immediately take off your headphones. “Oh! Yes, what can I- what can I get for you?” you stammer.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to wear headphones. Whoops!

She sees the look of embarrassment on your face and reassures you. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” she winks. “I wanted to ask, you’re new here, right?”

“Mhm.” You nod.

“Have you been to Family Video?”

“No, I haven’t really got the chance to check out the stores here,” you say. “Why do you ask?”

She squeals in excitements “Oh! Perfect! When are you free?”

You shrug, thinking about it for a moment. “Tomorrow after my shift at 7, 7:30-ish, I guess?”

Robin, who continues to smile, taps the counter before heading back to sit with Steve. She points at you. “We will see you tomorrow then. Bye!”

She drags Steve from his chair, urging him that they were “gonna be late for work” followed by “hey, my coffee!”

You watch the scene unfold, finding it almost odd, like something you’d see in a comedy.

“Okay, weird. But okay,” you say to yourself. “…Oh well.”

~~~

“Dude, what the hell was that?” Steve asks exasperatedly.

He’s driving now to Family Video, with Robin in the passenger seat. She’s looking out the window, then faces him.

With raised eyebrows, she says, “Uh, you’re welcome?”

“Nuh-uh, not ‘you’re welcome,’ you didn’t have to do that for me! I could have done it myself. I would have.”

She only looks at him and laughs.

Noticing the look on her face l, he rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” She feigns innocence.

He shakes his head. “I would have done it.”

“Yeah, buuuuut you didn’t.”

Steve can only glare at her.

“Relax, lover boy. As your wingman, I just did you a huge favour.” She clicks her teeth and proudly points to herself. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks” he sasses.

Let’s hope it’s different this time, he thinks.

~~~

Hope you enjoyed! :D

-M. ♉️

➤ next part

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 5th May ✨

There’s something so so satisfying about HFTH being on ep 150, while TSV is on 40 and Travelling Light (TL, if you will) is on 20 . . . the brain is going brrrr.

Here’s what I listened to this week! Spoilers ahead!

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E9) oh what a beautiful episode 😭I’d like to bestow the highest accolade on Flo’s VA: hearing her voice and immediately casting her in an unwritten audio drama that will likely never be made. I have a theory about why Frank can’t just clear out the warehouse . . . but I really don’t want it to be true. 

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (150) You can also find me in Camp ‘Hate That Noise’!! Awful. I love this nautical storyline so much. It’s one thing to be told that Buck is now a renowned detective and another to see him in action. Sad that someone had to die but . . . I can’t wait to see the case unfold!! I’ve been trying to wrap my head around Shelby leaving the entire week. Yes, it makes perfect sense from a survival point of view but I don’t think I could have done it. 

🦀 @thesiltverses (40) what a good ep!! I’ve been so compromised by Carpenter this season. She sounds so very exhausted, even when she’s not being stalked by her god of death. I’m very concerned about ‘Verity’ who left the minute they arrived… did she recognise them?? Chuck Harm and Val are one of the most unexpected combinations of the year but I’m here for it. It is VERY interesting that Val is now suffering post-miracle. Is this a ‘gods need to feed’ situation or something else entirely. Working with God-killers worked so well for the government last time, so it’ll no doubt be over for her in no time . . .

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (20) I can’t tell you how delightful it is that this show comes out on Friday and is exactly the length of my average cycle home!! It’s such a soothing way to start the weekend! There were so many banging lines in this ep, I love a spooky friend!

🏛 @the-mistholme-museum (CONCLUSIVE) You heard it on Mistholme first! People from Yorkshire (me) have the best voices. Like honey, chocolate and coffee all at once - so people say. I can’t believe this is the penultimate episode 😭

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (14) snake friends! How delightful!! I feel a little guilty at how entertaining Alice’s jealousy is. I feel so bad for her, but the office drama is too hard to resist. 

🍎 @notquitedeadpod (XXXVII) my heart!! 💔 I had to laugh at Neige’s disdain for Alfie’s more intimate recordings right before expounding on his own experiences . . . including with their shared boyfriend! It’s a little petty. I love it. And, god, can we talk about this last line? ‘And when you call, I will come back to you because you have begun to feel like home.’ HELLO? Christ.

🌞 Small Victories by @wgc-productions (2.1) How many cosmic interventions will it take for Marisol not to make cosmically bad choices? I don’t know! I’m keeping a close eye on Summer . . . 

🧋 @hinaypod (3-4) Honestly, kind of kudos to Laura because if I went through what she did I would simply never touch an antique again… I really love Donner and Murphy’s rapport and how they recognise and respect Mari’s skills! 

Hope everyone has a lovely week! 🥰

I'd also like to highlight that the creators of one of my fave shows, Moonbase Theta, Out (@monkeymanproductions) , are crowdfunding for their next one! Throw some 💸 at these lovely creatives!!

[gliphyartfan]

thank you very much for answering! It is always a pleasure to talk to you, I tried a lot more before I realized that something was wrong and suspected that something was happening with my messages that perhaps, does not arrive

I'll be sure to hit you with double messages, and then you'll know it's me (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

The idea of a spirit simply saying 'you gave me enough energy to exist like everyone else, I will follow you to the end of the universe's existence' never occurred to me!

I came up with simpler ideas like a clone of (y/n) who came out of a cursed mirror and was out of the mirror for so long that she is now her own person and takes care of (y/n) simply because it became routine and gave him a new purpose to live, up to ideas of a demon that takes the form of its enemies or even the occurrence that not!(Y/n) is a part of (y/n), they are the same person but something happened that they split into two like four but...in two(?

I didn't think through some ideas thorough

I also had the idea of something similar to Double from Skullgirls, if you don't know it look it up, but not in the shape-shifting sense, in the same sense that (y/n) was split in two but something bad happened with they other half...Maybe the separation was more unstable and nobody wants to mess with someone who has a bad human formation (teeth where there shouldn't be teeth and faces where there shouldn't be faces) behind them.

Or maybe not! (Y/n) It was always there, even in its original world, perhaps everyone in our world has these other monstrous halves from a time forgotten by God, but because of pollution and decrease in magic due to many human factors, we are no longer able to see or feel them.

Oh, these ideas are so good! I could totally see Not!(y/n) coming from any of these backgrounds, and each one gives her such a unique kind of bond with (y/n). Okay, here’s me rambling through each one, ‘cause they’re all just so fun to think about.

—-

Ooooh, okay, the mirror idea sounds cool. So, Not!(y/n) could be like a shadow clone of (y/n) that maybe popped out of a cursed mirror or something.

She’d have zero identity at first, just mimicking (y/n)’s movements and routines because that’s all she knows. Over time, she’d be following (y/n) around, learning, adapting, and taking on a personality of her own.

It’d be almost spooky in a way, because maybe she keeps little habits she picked up from (y/n), like, (y/n) might be confused why Not!(y/n) anticipates her moves, but it’s just muscle memory for her.

And then, somewhere along the line, it’s not just routine anymore, she genuinely cares for (y/n). Like, she went from habit to genuine affection, and now she’s in her own lane, fully independent but still clinging to (y/n) in that familiar way.

I would be even better if no one was aware Not!(y/n) was there, I can totally imagine a situation where the spirit saves (y/n) in front of everyone. (Quite the first introduction.)

Oooh maybe it cause the enemy cast a spell that needs someone who love for (y/n) is deep and true. And I while the heroes love their darling veeeeeeeeery much.

I think it would be a trick question. Like they would assume romantic love. But it’s just super platonic love.

(And guess who’s a platonic Yandere? )

Hmmm or maaaaaybe Not!(y/n) started as a creature of shadows, like some kind of demon that just… borrows forms, she’d probably be super instinct-driven at first.

So when she latched onto one of the heroes first, it’s not out of loyalty or love but, like, “This person will help me blend in, so I’ll copy them.”

When she latches on to (y/n)? Oh boy, she’d accidentally start picking up more than just the appearance.

She’d get little quirks, tiny bits of (y/n)’s empathy, curiosity, or habits, and she’d gradually become her own thing.

And it’s weird and strange and overwhelming and underwhelming and Not!(y/n) loves it.

She could totally use that mimicry to freak out enemies, too. Imagine her taking on traits of whatever scares her opponent most, just subtle things, like maybe her face warps or her shadow lengthens.

She’s got that “I’m a demon pretending to be human, and it’s kind of hilarious” energy but with a maaajor soft spot for (y/n). It’d be creepy and adorable.

Okay I’m familiar with Skullgirls.

Not by a lot but enough to get what you mean, so if she’s that unstable half of (y/n), you know, like a warped doppelganger, I imagine she’d have that vibe of “I look mostly normal, but don’t look too close.” Maybe her body doesn’t stay stable, so when she gets agitated or defensive, she starts to distort, like an extra set of teeth here, a shadow that’s too dark there.

People would feel a chill just looking at her, even though she doesn’t mean any harm.

Her protective side would kick in hardcore if (y/n) is in danger, and it’d be like she’s this scary shadow looming just behind her. Not on purpose, just… that’s her default state when she’s “protecting.”

Imagine (y/n) turning her head and just seeing Not!(y/n) with, like, a disturbingly wide grin or something, but knowing she’s totally harmless to her. Super unsettling. (but also kinda wholesome?)

Oooh, or maybe Not!(y/n) could be like this ancient presence, this forgotten part o f (y/n) that woke up due to all the magic surrounding them.

She wouldn’t speak the same way, maybe her words are all odd and too formal, or she just doesn’t understand human things and language very well. She’s probably like… this embodiment of lost magic that somehow bonded to (y/n).

And she’d be invisible to almost everyone at random times! Imagine her fading in and out depending on how strong the magic is around her, like a flickering ghost.

She’d be more of a guardian spirit from some forgotten time, bound to (y/n) not because she remembers anything about herself, but because she’s naturally drawn to her other half. It’s almost like she’s meant to be there, even though no one understands why. (Well no one but Not!(y/n) really)

But, maybe she’s a spirit, a shadow, a demon, a double… whatever her origin, she utterly adores (y/n). Can’t change that. My heart wouldn’t accept it 🥹

[lore-gore]

Also PLEASE post about your oc! I'm trying to get up the courage to make one for hh x3

Finally! It's time! My most detailed oc that I've been working on for five years! (I am so nervous about sharing this)

Originally they were a self insert but grew to become their own character. (Which is why we have the same name. So I suppose they are both a self insert and an oc?)

I'm including bio, relationship with characters, and scene inserts

Hopefully this does not come off as cringe (I better get complements or I will cry)

Tw for death, murder, violence, bullying, obsession, stalking, mentioned kidnapping, shipping with alastor because why not, British people

Also tag me when you make yours!!!

@myroanokenightmare666 @frilledshark-enthusiast @astral--horrorshow you prommied

Bio:

Lorelai "Lore" Dagenhart

The token spooky weird goth character

Ghost Demon (based on an onryo)

She/They

AFAB Nonbinary

Biromantic Asexual

24

Autistic

Goth

British

From Birmingham

Chaotic neutral

Scorpio

Gen Z

Born October 31, 1999

Died October 31, 2023

Stabbed in the heart

Killed her old bullies (The four main ones; failed to kill the last one. Or did they?)

Was bullied severely (called names and slurs, beaten up, tripped, shoved, desk was graffitied, hair pulled and even cut, had liquids poured on her to trigger their sensory issues, rumors spread to the point not even the other goths wanted to hang out with her because they thought they sacrificed birds, locked in closets, etc.)

Failed to make friends

Tried to act "normal" for a while but because she had already been established as the weird kid it didn't work

Decided to commit to being weird

Loves being eccentric

Says weird, random, and ominous things

Likes scaring people; is good at it

Special interest is horror

Was a semi popular horror author

Drew their own covers

Has a cute style and a realistic monster style

Had good parents growing up

Parents owned a funeral home

Dad was a funeral director and mom was a mortician

Were similar to Morticia and Gomez

Speaks English and British Sign Language

Sister was deaf (her name was Faye)

Scared of bodies of water (especially running water)

Doesn't mind rain

Can still swim

Bright rooms give her sensory overload (puts on sunglasses to combat this)

Wears sound filtering earbuds

Rarely holds conversation

Either infodumps or barely contributes

Avoids eye contact

If they force herself to make eye contact, they will hold it for way too long

Only really makes eye contact when trying to intimidate someone

Struggles with social cues

Won't realize someone is upset unless they tell her

When that happens, they will simply sit and listen, which works well

Can recognize fear

Fluctuates between touch adverse, touch positive, and touch indifferent

Has a heart-shaped face, a small nose, pure white skin, long black hair parted in the middle that reaches the floor, big droopy eyes that are completely black, including the sclera, dark circles, black lips, and white fangs

Tall

6'5, 7'0 with her platforms

Very thin and bony

Wears a grey hoodie with a red x over their heart and heart shaped lock prints running down the sleeves, a pleated black skirt, black and white striped stockings, knee high lace up black 5 inch platform boots and a binder

Facial expression is usually neutral

Voice is also usually monotone

Has a haunting singing voice

Cold to the touch

The temperature in the room lowers when she gets upset (the more upset they are, the colder it gets; she is unaffected by this)

Can float

Can turn invisible

Has prehensile hair

Every time they cut it it grows back

Can't be styled either (will just return to its normal state)

Can store things inside of it

Easily sneaks up behind people

Just pops up randomly

Good at hiding

Can somehow fit into small spaces

Very flexible

Double jointed

Left handed

Anger is almost always silent; plots revenge

Very vengeful

Holds grudges

Has an amazing memory

Can think on her feet

Prefers routine

Can be very blunt

Not great at telling lies, tells half truths instead

Got A's and B's in school

Book smart, but not street smart

Had two black cats named Misery and Misfortune

Has befriended the crows by feeding them

The crows bring them little trinkets

Loves animals, especially the spooky ones (cats, rats, bats, owls, wolves, ravens, crows, snakes, spiders, moths, centipedes, as well as possums)

Favorite animal is bunnies

Favorite movie is The Ring

Favorite season is fall

Favorite holiday is Halloween

Full on cosplays for Halloween

Cosplays outside of Halloween as well

Loves candy and other sweets

Hates the taste of alcohol and coffee

Likes tea

Has taken edibles multiple times before

Often slams things without meaning to

Uses both slang and complicated vocabulary

Switches between using proper punctuation, capitalization, and spelling and ignoring it when posting as it's more chaotic

Tumblr shitposter

Made vines when it was still around

Can play the guitar (bass and electric) and piano

Doesn't quite know how to dance

Good at gardening

Offered to take care of the hotel's rose garden after seeing its neglected state

Is now the hotel gardener

Horrible at cooking

A literal hazard in the kitchen

Bad luck seems to follow them when she cooks

The food itself tastes either mediocre or terrible

Collects weird t-shirts

Humor is a mix of dark and surreal

Has a maniacal laugh

Stims by pacing, flapping hands, rocking, cracking neck (neg), and/or bouncing leg

Sleeps with arms crossed over their chest like a vampire (taught herself to do that as a kid and it became a habit)

Sleepwalks sometimes

Even creepier when they sleepwalk

Wanders around, stares at walls, crawls, says cryptic things, laughs

As a human she had brown hair that reached their back, pale skin, and occult blue eyes. She was 6'0, 6'5 with platforms. They wore a long black trenchcoat that reached the floor and a black T-shirt with a ghost on it. (The rest of her outfit was the same.)

Their full demon form has hollow black shadowy holes instead of eyes, a slit mouth that spans her entire face, long claws, and is 8 feet tall with long limbs and an echoing voice

Voice also echoes when being intense

Found the hotel shortly after arriving in hell. (Literally was just wandering around and stumbled upon it. They stopped to admire the little details, Vaggie noticed her through the window, Charlie went down to greet them, and the rest is history.)

Got a double degree in creative writing and digital art

Thinks she's pretty in a haunting way

Creative when it comes to insults and threats

Has an axe-shaped electric guitar and an axe-shaped bass guitar (literally Marceline's bass and Marshall's guitar)

VERY progressive

High Empathy

Music tastes consist of gothic rock, alt rock, punk rock, electric swing, and horror soundtracks

Parents introduced them to gothic rock and punk rock

Pirates movies

Thinks she is unlovable

Has trust issues

Assumes the worst in people

Despite this, you can win their trust by listening to her infodump

Never sits correctly

Feet on the couch, perching on the armrests or even back, crouching on the floor

Grew up agonistic

Dabbles in witchcraft (séances, tarot readings, tea leaf readings, and as a kid curses)

Always carries around a kitchen knife

Had a bobcut with bangs as a kid and wore the school uniform (white button up, black skirt, black tie) with black combat boots, black and white striped stockings, her black trenchcoat, and sharpie eyeliner

Used to explore abandoned places

Loyal to their friends

Cannot flirt or tell when someone is flirting with her to save their life

1920's outfit is a black below the knee dress with long cuffed sleeves, a grey sash, and a white collar with a white ribbon tied around it and small black heeled shoes with a strap.

Bedwear is a plain white short sleeved nightgown with her striped stockings

Never told their parents about being bullied because she didn't want them to worry

Told the teachers about being bullied but they ignored them, even when her parents got involved

Doesn't trust authority because of that

By the time they finally told her parents it was too late to do anything so they just had to push through until graduation

Killed her bullies because she couldn't live knowing they got away with what they did

Wore a ghostface costume to kill their bullies

Decided to name herself Lore because it "fits my new form"

Smells like freshly turned soil

Voice claim: Jamie from The Haunting of Bly Manor

Singing voice claim: Chibi from The Birthday Massacre/Ashley Serena/Emily Rohm

Relationships:

Alastor:

Best friends

He loves how weird she is

The only time he'll watch movies is with them

She likes showing him her favorite horror movies and infodumping afterwards

He likes spending time with her

Both have crushes on each other (He's uniromantic asexual; died at 29)

Lore assumes it's one-sided, thinking she's undateable

And Alastor loves them... Way too much

To the point of obsession

Drags her around everywhere

Definitely stalks them using his shadow

Watches her sleep

Will kidnap them eventually

Partly because he wants to keep her safe and partly because he wants them all to himself

Lore will be angry, scared, but also kinda into it (check feels unlovable)

Will probably try to make her become a cannibal like him, either by sneaking demon meat into their food, forcing her, or some other means

Charlie

One of their first friends

Sees that Lore is actually a kind person

Lore is not entirely sure her plan will work, but is supportive because that's what best friends do

Anyone who messes with her will face her wrath

Vaggie

One of their first friends

Accepts her weirdness as just who they are

Thinks each other are cool

Listen to goth music together sometimes

Has a bad feeling about Alastor's friendship with her

Angel

Creeped out by them

One of her main scaring targets

When he first met them he thought she was a ghost

Admires their chaoticness though

Will grow closer

In pain with her obliviousness with Al

Husk

Brushes them off as just a weird kid

A little worried about her friendship with Alastor

Nifty

Different flavors of weird

Forever confused about their gender

Hates when she tracks dirt in

Ships them and Alastor

Once wrote a fanfic about the two and showed her

It was smut

Lore enjoys her weird moments and finds her endearing

Sir Pentious

Scaring victim number two

Did not like him

Had not completely forgiven him for trying to betray them and kill them twice until he sacrificed himself

Katie Killjoy

Organized his funeral

Hates her

Reminds them of her old bullies

Slashed her tires after the interview

Tom Trench

Hates him because he's Katie's accomplice

Was the one that set him on fire (molotov cocktail)

Since Charlie was already taking care of Katie they went after him instead

Vox

At first did not understand why Alastor like her

Until he dug around online and realized "Ah... They're weird as shit nevermind."

Lore hates them because Alastor hates them

"My friends enemies are my enemies" type shit

Valentino

Hates him after Charlie told her what she saw at the studio

Had to hold themself back from fighting him after seeing him in the club

Lucifer

Always wanted to meet him

Still feels bad Charlie doesn't have a good relationship with him

Glad he's at least trying to fix it

Cherri Bomb

Lore brought weed gummies during their night out so she likes her

Rosie

Finds them charming

Endorses Alastor's obsession

Scene Inserts:

Adam

Hates him for attacking the Hotel and hurting her friends

Glad he's dead

Would dance on his grave if he had one

Lute

Also hates her for attacking the hotel and hurting her friends

Especially for killing Dazzle

Would NOT have shown mercy like Vaggie did

Pilot

Vaggie: It's all highlighted.

(Lore appears behind Vaggie, going from invisible to visible)

Lore: I think, you should scrap this, and just say Happy Hotel over and over again like a subliminal message.

Charlie: I'll just have to resort to my impeccable improv skills!

Lore: She does improv?

Charlie: Well, there's my friend Lore.

(The camera pans to Lore. She hisses.)

(The camera pans back to Charlie, slightly weirded out.)

Charlie: And someone named... Angel Dust.

Tom: WHY WON'T ANYONE HELP ME

(Lore learns into the frame, holding a lighter and smirking)

(Silence after argument in limo.)

Lore: I set a man on fire.

(The three turn and stare at her.)

Alastor: What do you do my dear?

Lore: Fester.

Charlie: She's the gardener.

Alastor: My what an intriguing lady you are.

Lore: I'm not a lady I'm a creature.

Vaggie: They mean she's Nonbinary.

(Alastor raises his eyebrow.)

Vaggie: Like identifies outside the gender binary.

Alastor: Ah! How delightfully chaotic!

Alastor: And what can you do my effeminate fellow?

Angel: I can suck ya dick.

Alastor: Ha! No.

Episode 1

Alastor: Founded five days ago by Lucifer's naive daughter Charlotte Morningstar!

Alastor: Enjoy riveting conversation with one of our two (Lore emerges behind the couch) residents! Wow!

Angel: We're in Hell toots. That's kinda the end of the road, ain't it?

Lore: He's right. Death is the end of the road. One long, winding road.

Angel: Why?

Episode 2

Alastor: Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor. Lore, care to accompany me?

Lore: I don't like people.

Alastor: Then you'll only have to interact with me! (Loops his arm around hers) Best of luck, chums!

(After Stayed Gone)

Lore: Why am I here?

Alastor: Moral support!

Charlie: So... This is the bar and the bartender. And here is the garden and the gardener!

Lore: The roses aren't ready to be cut yet. If I find that you cut any, I will cut your fucking hands off your pathetic little body.

Charlie: She's joking.

Lore: No I'm not.

Vaggie: This is going to be your whole day! (Claps)

Lore: My turn:

Hello,

my name is Lore

I like blood

And guts and gore

Charlie: That's enough-

Lore: Reality is fake

Someone's going to die

In the lake

Vaggie: I'm sorry what.

Lore: You heard me.

Episode 3

Vaggie: Wow, you are slimy.

Lore: Like a worm. But not a cute one.

Episode 4

Husk: She was the weird kid who was bullied no matter how hard they tried to fit in, so she decided to just own it and commit to the title. Also never orders alcohol. And Nifty-

(After Charlie leaves)

(Silence)

Lore: You watch us sleep?

Pentious: Oh, not you. Alastor already watches you sleep.

Lore: He what.

Episode 5

Charlie: And this is Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, and Lore, our guests!

Sir Pentious: Your Majesty!!!

Angel: Hey, you short king.

Lore: This is my childhood dream come true.

(After explaining Alastor's backstory)

Lore: Sick.

Episode 7

Vaggie: They can be killed.

Lore: (standing up) I KNEW IT! (Sits back down, crossing arms and looking smug) There's almost always a weakness.

Sir Pentious: What? Do you think we're a bunch of pusssssies?

Lore: You two are my (smiles) best friends. You can't get rid of me that easily.

Husk: I just got used to you guys.

Episode 8

Alastor: It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Always makes one sentimental, aye Niffty?

Niffty: I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!

Lore: You know it's funny. Hell is the only place I was actually able to make friends.

Alastor: Ahh, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed.

Niffty: I dub thee, king roach!

Alastor: Oh, to understand your twisted little mind. Hahaha....

(They all laugh.)

Lore: Never change Niffty. Hey, can I be the roach jester?

Alastor: Hmm. I'd rather rule alongside you.

(He grabs her hand and kisses it.)

Lore: Oh.

(Beginning of battle)

Lore: Come and get me you fucking tar-and-feathered hypocritical bitches in a box! See how a ghost defends its haunt.

(Brandishes knives with hair)

Vaggie: New coat of paint!

Lore: New flowers

Husk: New lights across the marquee

Charlie, Vaggie, Lore, Husk: With a little sorcery

PLEASE feel free to send me asks about them!!!

[fruit-of-infidelity]

⚰︎ DIABOLIK LOVERS SKiT Dolce Tokuten Drama CD: “Trick or Treat(ment)” ⚰︎

Japanese Title: トリック・オア・トリート(メント)

CV: Takehiro Kou, Kaji Yuki, & Takashi Kondō (briefly ft. the other Sakamaki's too)

Audio Available: N/A

Author Note: This is another Halloween Drama CD especially for the spooky season, except this one is a little more fun rather than spooky. Like always with these group dramas, there is no audio available. But, I hope you enjoy it all the same!! I'd love to hear feedback/thoughts on this, since it's been a while since I focused solely on Drama CDs!

― The scene begins in the Sakamaki manor. ―

Subaru: Where’d the hell that girl go?

Heh, you hidin’ on me? Fine, I’ll play ball, just this once… Tonight’s all about spooks, so what’s a little hide and seek?

Kanato: Cut it out. You’re being awfully noisy.

Subaru: Hah?

Kanato: Don’t act like you didn’t hear me, please. I hate repeating myself… Even Teddy says you are making a ruckus.

Subaru: Whatever… Don’t blame me for it. I wouldn’t be havin’ to make a sound if that woman would hurry up and show herself.

…Oi, reckon you have any idea where she wound up?

Kanato: That annoying person? It seems she decided to shut herself in her room.

Subaru: Just in here? I should’ve known.

― He tries the door. ―

Huh?

Fuck… The hell did you go locking the door on me for!? Not like there’s anythin’ to barge in on, you know!

― Footsteps approach. ―

Ryuuto: Have you considered she might be avoiding the likes of you for a change?

Subaru: Haah!? Ryuuto…?

Looks like Halloween came early...

Ryuuto: Mutter under your breath all you’d like. You’re simply putting your immaturity on full display, like a peacock showing off its feathers.

If she is avoiding you… Well, I – for one – think it is about time some sense was knocked into her. You can be nothing but a bad influence on her.

Subaru: Bastard… You’re one to talk!

Kanato: Who was it that let you in to our house, Ryuuto? I thought this place was off limits to your side of the family?

Ryuuto: I let myself in.

Besides, you must be mistaken if you think a verbal warning is enough to scare me off. Pitch a sign outside in protest, next time, fufu.

Kanato: …Hehe, maybe you’re right, Teddy. Maybe pitching his head on a spike, instead, would make a better solution.

Subaru: It’d make for a much better Halloween decoration, that’s for sure.

― Subaru and Kanato laugh amongst themselves. ―

Ryuuto: Har. Har. How very funny.

Anyhow, please clear off, won’t you? I am here for that person, alone, and would rather not have my evening ruined by the “Sakamaki babies”*.

　　*The Japanese here would ideally be “―逆巻のねんね”; Not only is Ryuuto calling them childish and immature, but he is also using baby-talk whilst doing so to be condescending lol.

Kanato: What did you call me!? A “baby”…!?

Subaru: You say that shit again, and this place’ll soon be a real haunted house!!

Ryuuto: Oh dear, what a foul mood you are both in all of a sudden. It would appear you babies are teething*, too. Fufufu.

　　*Again, Ryuuto is being condescending as they’re younger than him, about to throw a tantrum, and – as all the Diaboys like to bare their teeth/threaten to bite when angry – teething is a play on them being “babies” as well as Vampires lol.

Subaru: You piece of…!

― Suddenly the door opens, with you rushing out to stop the fight! ―

Ryuuto: “Stop”? Fufu, you think I am frightened by―― Gaah!?

Subaru: Th-The fuck!? Gh-Ghost!?

Kanato: Waah!?

― You question what’s wrong. ―

Ryuuto: …!? It’s just you!?

― You apologise. ―

Subaru: “Thought you were a ghost”? F-Fuck off, I wasn’t spooked…

Ryuuto: You can’t expect us to not be startled, when you come walking out unannounced covered in something so strange.

Kanato: E-Eh? You mean…

It’s just that person, under that… that ectoplasm?

― You laugh and explain. ―

“A face mask” is what all that slime on your face is? How is putting something that looks so disgusting all over your face relaxing?

Ryuuto: They aren’t uncommon when it comes to skincare; Women tend to love the moisture and glow they give the face, after all.

Aren’t you supposed to have cucumbers to go along with this too?

Kanato: Like those over there you mean? Like a spa treatment…

Subaru: Pah… Since when did you care about “skincare”, anyway?

Ryuuto: Don’t sound so revolted, Subaru. I’m sure you could learn a thing or two about taking care of yourself from this woman.

Subaru: What’s that supposed to mean!?

― You ask them to calm down. ―

Kanato: …Sniff, sniff. Smells of… honey?

― You explain it’s a homemade face mask. ―

Kanato: It’s “homemade”? From fresh ingredient we had lying around in the kitchen?

Hey, is this really just an excuse to make yourself into a ready-to-eat meal for me? Hehe, you smell too good to not eat.

Subaru: Honey? You mean…

― Kanato licks your face. ―

Kanato: Mm… and strawberries.

Ryuuto: What do you think you’re doing? Don’t be so inconsiderate.

― You thank Ryuuto. ―

You think I was telling him off for your sake? Fufu, not at all… It’s simply disgusting to see what belongs to you be eaten up by someone else.

Subaru: Guess you’re not gonna like this then?

― Subaru also licks your face. ―

…You weren’t kiddin’, huh? It’s really strawberry, and all that stuff.

― You insist they stop! ―

Ryuuto: Exactly, face masks aren’t for eating.

Subaru: Maybe not. But, she is.

Kanato: I wouldn’t mind another taste, please.

Ryuuto: Tut.

You there, they’re going to make their stomachs sore, if you keep enticing them like this. Then this “Halloween” you have been so eager for will be ruined.

― You come up with an idea. ―

…You want us to try these face masks too?

Subaru: You mean… smearin’ this crap all over our faces?

Kanato: Are you saying our skin needs some kind of treatment? Mine is as soft as ever, you know!

…Although, with how sweet this stuff is smelling…

Ryuuto: I don’t know about you two, but I suppose it might make for quite the relaxing evening, if we were to give it a go, as well...

Fufu. Cucumber-eyes and all.

Subaru: I thought the point of all this was to make her look ridiculous.

Kanato: If we participate, does this mean we can eat it, when we’re done?

― You suppose so. ―

Then, I’ll have to give it a go as well. Heheh…

Please do mine first, before these other two. And be very generous with how much you put on.

Ryuuto: Remind me, you made this yourself? Well, it would be careless to not give it a good go, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps I ought to entrust my painting palette to you more often; You seem to mix rather pleasant colours.

Subaru: …Huh? What are you lookin’ at me for?

…Tsk, if everyone is doing it, i-it’d be a waste to not use to all up, I guess? Only ‘cause you went to the effort of makin’ so much!

Fine… Count me in.

― Timeskip. ―

Ryuuto: Haa… This has turned out to be rather relaxing, after all. With the lights off like this, the moonlight on my skin feels extra rejuvenating.

Subaru: Feels like I’ve shoved my face into mud… It’s caked all over…

Kanato: Mm… Please top mine up. It’s dribbling right into my mouth; I have no choice but to lick it off.

― You tell them to be careful. ―

Ryuuto: I’m not going to spill any onto your bedsheets, whilst sat here, don’t fret.

Although, I cannot speak for all of us…

― You top them up with cucumber eyes now. ―

Kanato: Why are you laughing all of a sudden?

Ryuuto: Why, indeed? It was your idea for the cucumber-eyes, Pet. Don’t tell me you are going to make us regret letting you pamper us?

Subaru: …Oi.

I wonder if you could do this sorta stuff with blood, you know? Wouldn’t that be just as refreshin’?

Kanato: Are you suggesting we should try that next time?

Subaru: Somethin’ like that, heh.

Ryuuto: Say, when the time comes… You will wash this off our face too, won’t you? After all, we’re in your care, tonight.

Kanato: Yes, return the favour; Lick mine off my face.

Make sure you end at my lips, though. That way, I’ll be able to finish my treatment with a final taste of the mask, hehe.

― You refuse. ―

Subaru: Hah? “No”? You’re gonna make us wash it off ourselves?

You’re really a pain in the ass sometimes, just c’mere instead――

― Subaru grabs hold of you. ―

Quit screamin’.

Fuck stumblin’ my way to the bathroom to wash it off, using you as a washcloth’ll work just fine.

― There is a struggle. ―

Ryuuto: Good grief, you’re going to make a complete mess, Subaru!!

Kanato: Who said you can use what belongs to me like that, anyway!?

― There is more of a struggle as they all get tangled in the bedsheets. ―

Ryuuto: Hand her over, at once! If she isn’t the one to fetch a damp towel for us, then who else will be…!?

― You shout for help. ―

Laito: Nfu. Did I hear a cry for “help” from my Bitch-cha――

Eeh!?

― One by one, the other Sakamaki’s appear. ―

Reiji: What on earth is happening h――!?

Ayato: W-Woah, what the hell!?

Shuu: …Heh.

Look at that. Looks like the ghosts of this “haunted house” have come out to play this Halloween, after all…

Ayato: Whaddya mean “ghosts”!?

― You, Ryuuto, Kanato, and Subaru fall off the bed, with the bedsheets. ―

Subaru: Aargh...!!

Laito: D-Did you hear that?

Reiji: W-Wha…!? This… This can’t be…

Shuu: Hahah…

― Shuu slowly walks away. ―

Reiji: Shuu, come back!

You… Ahem, whatever this is, y-you should learn to deal with these things yourself once in a while, as the eldest, you know…!

― Reiji quickly disappears. ―

Ayato: Y-Yo, Four-Eyes! Wait up!

― Ayato, then Laito, rush after Reiji. ―

Laito: Ayato…!? Hey...!

Ryuuto: Tsk...

Who pulled down this sheet with us!?

Kanato: M-My mask!

― They finally break apart… covered in a mess of face mask. ―

Subaru: Fuck, I’m covered in it!

― You complain. ―

Kanato: “C-Covered your bed in it”!? You’re lucky you didn’t cover Teddy in it!

Ryuuto: It’s all over my clothes, and through my hair…

Subaru: I think I got some in my eye…

― You are also covered head to toe in it from the struggle. ―

Ryuuto: Tut… Seeing as you are also completely covered in it, I’ll let you take a bath with me.

Subaru: Get lost, you have your own bathroom back at your place! I’m calling shots for scrubbin’ clean first, with her.

Kanato: It was your fault for the mess in the first place! It’s only fair her and I get to wash off first!!

― You get upset. ―

Ryuuto: Forget about laundry for now, Pet.

If you want a clean body first and foremost, secure that spot alongside you in the bath for me!

Kanato: N-No, me!!

Subaru: F-Fuck… Just, someone, go already!

This stuff’s really sticky…

ーー THE END ーー

[cozyfoxy]

Marigold

Summary: When a haunting tune plagues Phil nightly, he turns to his family for help. But it seems like only he can hear it. Is he going crazy? Or is there more to the song than there seems? Or the real reason Dan never ages.

Genre: Canon compliant au, spooky

Read on AO3

The first night that Phil heard the strange music, he had been unable to sleep. He wracked his brain for hours, trying to understand what he was hearing without success. This was the same home that Phil had lived in his entire life; there were no nearby neighbors who could be playing music. To make it even worse, no one else in the house had heard the music.

When he brought it up to his family that morning, he was met with only confused glances and shrugs. His mum was adamant that he had been reading too many horror novels before bed. His older brother Martyn had simply mocked him for going crazy.

After hearing the music for a few days, he brought it up to his family again. This time, they looked at him with worried eyes. His father offered him some earplugs, hoping that would block out whatever sounds Phil kept hearing. Of course, the earplugs didn’t work. If anything, they seemed to make the music louder.

A full week of midnight music had passed before Phil truly became scared. He decided to bring it up to his mum while they made dinner together.

“Mum, I’m starting to get scared. I think there’s something wrong with me. The music won’t stop; it’s every night at midnight, and it doesn’t stop for hours. I haven’t been reading or watching anything before bed, but it won’t stop!” Phil huffed, blinking his tired eyes.

Kath froze for a moment at her son’s words, his story sounding oddly familiar: “Is it just instrumental music? Is it someone singing? What exactly have you been hearing?” She asked, looking up at her son with worried eyes.

Phil shrugged weakly, “It sounds mostly like humming. There are no instruments or anything. Just a soft-sounding hum, but it’s still loud. Like it’s right outside my window, but when I look, there’s nothing there. Of course, there’s nothing there; it can’t even be real.”

Kath bit her lip nervously. “Maybe you should stop sleeping with your windows open, yeah?” She suggested softly.

“It’s the middle of summer, mom; my room feels like an oven with my windows shut... wait, do you think I’m actually hearing someone?” Phil asked, raising his eyebrows.

His mum dried her hands on a kitchen towel after washing them. “Well, the summer that I was pregnant with you, I would sit in your room on a rocking chair most nights that I couldn’t sleep. It was hot, so of course I would have the windows open. It was in the middle of June that I first heard the humming outside the window. Of course, I assumed it was my pregnancy brain and lack of sleep. But like clockwork, I would hear the humming from midnight to about two in the morning. I thought I was going crazy.” She laughed without humor.

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, “So, what was it? Did anyone else ever hear it? Was it always in my room?”

Kath shook her head. “I still don’t know what it was, love. But I was the only one who heard it, even when your dad was in the room with me. Over time, I started to stay in bed with your dad instead of going to your room. I guess I thought that the humming wouldn’t bother me there, but it did. It was somehow even louder than before. No one believed me but your grandmother.”

“She believed you? What did she think it was?” Phil asked quickly, leaning closer to his mum. He just wanted answers.

She blinked and looked away for a moment, unsure if she should tell him the rest. “Well, she thought it was something otherworldly. You know your grandmother was a psychic woman with many gifts, most often the unexplained meant supernatural for her. She suggested it could be a ghost or even aliens. I thought she was being dramatic until.” Kath stopped speaking suddenly, staring past Phil with a vacant expression.

Phil bit his lip and touched his mum’s hand with his fingertips. “Until what, mum? Mum, please, I need to know.”

Kath blinked a few times and sighed, taking her son’s hand in hers. “It was nearly the end of August, so the weather was beginning to cool down a bit at last. We started to close the windows at night, and I thought that would be the end of the weird happenings. It was the end for a bit; the humming either stopped or I just couldn’t hear it anymore. But then, at the end of August, I woke up in the middle of the forest.”

Phil’s eyes widened in shock, and he squeezed his mum’s hand in reassurance. For as long as Phil could remember, his mum avoided the small forest by their home. She would only go to the first few trees at the opening, but never any further. His mum had forbidden him from going into the forest on his own, as she said it was dangerous. Little did she know that as he got older he would sneak into the forest against her wishes. It was just a boring old forest as far as he was concerned, not even that large. It would be difficult to get lost in too; he never understood her fears.

“To this day, I don’t know how I got there. I woke up to the humming right beside me, but it wasn’t just humming. It was a song. I could hear the voice clearly, and I was very confused. Though it was the middle of the night, where I lay was bright and comfortable even. I was lying on my back in a huge patch of moss with my belly exposed. I was terrified; I wanted to run, but it was like I was frozen in place.” Kath spoke quickly, not wanting to relive this moment in her life.

“I felt a hand on my belly, and I yelled at the stranger not to touch you. They told me not to worry, that they would never hurt either of us. I believed them even though I didn’t want to. It was like I was being controlled. They were very gentle and covered my belly with some kind of flowery-smelling clay. They sang the strange song, and I fell back asleep. The next thing that I remember was waking up outside on the porch, wrapped in a blanket with a basket of marigolds beside me.” She explained, tears threatening to fill her eyes.

Phil shuddered at her story, “Did you sleepwalk? That had to be it, right?”

Kath shook her head. “That’s what everyone thought, myself included. But that doesn’t explain the red clay that was still on my belly or the marigolds in the basket that I had never seen before. After that night, I no longer heard the song. But when I would rock you to sleep in your room at night, you would always stare out of the window. Almost like you could hear it instead.”

Phil suddenly got overtaken by a cold chill. He got the urge to run out of the house and deep into the forest, further than he had ever dared to go before. He felt lonely and cold on the inside in a way that he had never felt. His mum stared at him with quiet worry, wishing that she knew of a way to help her son conquer whatever this thing was. What did they want with her Phil? ~ That night, Phil lay restlessly in the middle of his bed, his phone sitting loosely in the palm of his hand. The humming had started just a few moments ago, and he was straining his ears to listen. If it was more than humming, he wanted to hear the words. He wanted to confront the singer, to tell them to stop and leave him alone. With a sudden burst of courage, Phil pushed himself from his bed and walked to his open window.

“Whoever you are or whatever you are, shut the hell up! I’m so tired; I just need to sleep. Please, please let me rest. I’m so tired.” Phil yelled out the window, still not seeing anyone in the darkness.

To Phil’s complete shock, the humming came to an abrupt stop. For the first time in weeks, the only sound outside his window was the crickets chirping and the occasional croak of a toad. He heaved a relieved sigh and walked back over to his bed, collapsing on top of his blankets.

“Thank you,” Phil whispered, his body finally relaxing.

As sleep finally began to overtake Phil, he heard what sounded like a kind chuckle and a familiar voice answered him.

“Sleep well, my marigold.” ~

A full month passed without any strange singing from outside his window, and Phil was feeling like himself again. He was saving up the money that he was making from his YouTube videos to move into his own flat, and it was going quite well. His parents didn’t understand what he was doing and how he was making money from it, but it made him happy, so they didn’t really question it. When Phil wasn’t working on YouTube, he was working at a small coffee shop in town to make some extra money. He enjoyed it, though it wasn’t what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

The owner of the coffee shop was a kind-eyed old lady named Marnie, and she adored Phil. She often would make extra sweets to sell in the shop, just so that she could send him home with some snacks. He loved working for her and would bring her his mother’s cooking as often as he could.

He also adored the regulars that would come in daily. From young families to old men who wanted just a coffee and some company, Phil quickly learned their names. One old man, whom they all called Teddy, took a liking to Phil immediately. Teddy was wise and always offered Phil the best advice whenever he was prompted. They would talk about anything and everything, and Phil never felt judged. He always looked forward to seeing the old man.

The last week of August, Teddy came in like normal but with a stern look on his face. He ordered his coffee from Phil, speaking quieter than normal and asking for it to go rather than in a mug. Phil felt like a child who had just been scolded by their father, though he knew he had done nothing wrong.

Teddy moved to leave before pausing and sighing deeply, “I know ye wanna get out of this small town soon. But ye can’t leave now. I know you got yer money saved, my boy. I know you got a flat picked out. But you have to wait for him or you will be sorry.”

Phil’s blood ran cold at Teddy’s words. How did he know that Phil had saved enough money for the flat that he wanted? He hadn’t told anyone.

“What do you mean, Teddy?” Phil asked quietly, nerves filling his stomach.

Teddy turned and looked at him. “Don’t leave yet, son; wait for him. The one who sings of marigolds and sunshine. If you leave him behind, ye leave yer life behind as well. Neither of ye can live without the other son. Trust my words.”

It felt as if Phil’s mouth had been glued shut as he watched the little old man walk out of the shop, whistling an uncomfortably familiar tune. That damned song. The same song that had kept him up at night for weeks. His blood ran cold, and he felt lightheaded, clinging to the counter with all of his strength to keep himself from falling.

“Why don’t you head home, love? You look quite ill. I can drive you; I don’t want you walking in your state.” Marnie offered from behind him, her sudden presence making him jump.

Though Phil’s mind was muddled and he couldn’t stand properly, he refused her offer for a ride home. He needed to walk so that he could think; he needed the fresh air. Marnie fussed about, grabbing him two bottles of water and some blueberry muffins to take with him in a small wicker basket that he hadn’t seen before. It was quite old, but well taken care of. The pale yellows and reds that tinted the basket made him think of marigolds.

Marigolds… Phil quickly shook that thought away and thanked Marnie quietly, giving her a goodbye hug as he did after every shift. He couldn’t be completely sure in his warped state of mind, but it felt like she held him extra tightly this time. He smiled weakly at her and stepped out of the shop, feeling better as soon as he stepped into the fresh air. Deep grey clouds were rolling in, hiding the blue sky behind them. The wind caressed Phil’s pale cheeks and ran through his hair, relaxing him instantly.

The streets were empty, with the promise of a summer storm sending everyone to hide inside their homes. Phil could tell that it would be a wicked one by the smell in the air. He heaved a sigh and walked carefully down the sidewalk, focusing on the wind whistling in his ears. It almost had a tune to it; it was oddly comforting.

Phil’s feet stopped moving, and he took a deep breath. He was being watched; he could feel it in his bones. The wind picked up even more, sending a shiver down his back as it made his hair tickle his ears. Footsteps. He could hear footsteps behind him. He willed his feet to move, but they wouldn’t no matter how hard he tried. He was stuck in place.

Tears filled Phil’s eyes while he shook in place, hearing the song that had plagued him for much too long. It kept getting closer, clearer with each footstep that he could hear behind him. Though it was still summertime, cold air surrounded Phil. His breath was visible in front of him.

“Please don’t hurt me.” Phil whimpered as the footsteps came to a complete stop behind him.

A soft chuckle sounded from behind him, and the smell of cinnamon and firewood hit his nose. A cold hand touched his, and a scream built up in his throat. He just wanted to go home. He gripped the wicker basket that he held so tightly that he was sure it would break. The cold hand unexpectedly touched Phil’s lips with one finger as if to shush him.

“Sleep, my love.” A quiet voice mumbled.

Everything went black. ~ “Oh, my little marigold, my love so soft and sweet.” “One day we shall meet again, inside the summer heat.” “You will belong to me and I belong to you.” “We will become one again, together through and through.”

Phil whimpered and rubbed his eyes, his head feeling heavy. He licked his dry lips and sighed, fatigue still coursing through his body.

“Though you were taken from me, you surely will return.” “I will hold your hand in mine and the thieves they all will burn.” “Safe and sound with me at last; never shall you worry.” “For I shall give you anything you need in quite a hurry.”

He moved his head, trying to find the source of the song he was hearing. The voice was angelic; it left his body and mind calm. It was so familiar, but he couldn’t think of who it was. Phil smiled and nuzzled his cheek into his pillow.

“Fear not, my love for I am here, dancing by your side.” “Those who wish to harm you, surely they shall die.” “Oh, my beautiful Marigold, have you heard my call?” “It is time, my nightingale; I’ll catch you when you fall.”

Phil took a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils filling with the smell of cinnamon and campfires. It was calming; his limbs felt like jelly. Where was he? This couldn’t be his room. He wasn’t in his bed; it was much too soft. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing a beautiful night sky. The stars shone brighter than he had ever seen before.

“I see you’re awake, Phil. How do you feel?” A honey-laced voice asked, a hand pushing Phil’s fringe from his eyes.

Phil blinked a couple of times, his mind still fuzzy. “Where am I?” he asked so quietly that he barely heard himself.

A calm laugh filled his ears, making him smile even through his confusion.

“You’re at my home. I will take you back to your family home soon; I just had to see you. I have missed you so much.” the voice explained, cold fingers stroking Phil’s cheek.

Phil knew he should be scared, being with a stranger in a place that he didn’t know. Yet he felt only happiness. His body and mind felt so relaxed that he didn’t understand how it was possible. He stirred a bit, moving to lean back on his elbows. The hands that were touching him moved, allowing him to sit up if he chose to. Phil blinked a few times, his eyes not wanting to focus.

“Slowly love. It’s been a while since I’ve used my abilities on you.” The voice hummed, rubbing small circles onto Phil’s back.

Phil blinked a few times. “Abilities? What do you mean?” He asked, his eyes slowly focusing on the face in front of him.

The voice didn’t answer; it just chuckled again while Phil fought with his body to cooperate.

After what felt like hours, Phil’s eyes finally focused completely, and blue met chocolate brown for the first time. What should have been confusion, worry, and even fear was replaced by tears and instant recognition.

“Daniel?! Dan? My Dan!” Phil cried, clinging to the man in front of him as sobs wracked his body. “You’re here. You… How?!”

Dan smiled and held his lover almost too tightly, never wanting to let him go again. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back for nearly two hundred years. Do you remember what happened, darling?”

Phil sniffled a few times before nodding slowly, “Some of it. We were caught together in a forest, making love. Some townspeople had suspicions of us practicing dark magic, so they chose to follow us. They were disgusted by us. They wanted us killed. We were hanged in the middle of town.”

Dan nodded and caressed Phil’s sides with the tips of his fingers, “Yes. I knew that no matter what they might do to me, I could not die. But for you, I knew that you would die from the punishment. I had to think quickly. They wouldn’t let us be alone, so I couldn’t get us out. I did the next best thing that I could think of.”

“Before they tied me up, you put me into a deep sleep so that I couldn’t feel or hear anything. I didn’t suffer.” Phil whispered, cupping Dan’s cheek with his hand, “You couldn’t save me, but you made it painless. I wasn’t afraid.”

The brunette smiled sadly, tears pooling in his own eyes. “I’m glad that you didn’t. They didn’t hang me until after you had passed away, I suppose as a sick punishment for loving you. When they tied me up, I had no fear. Anger was all that I could feel. They took my beautiful flower away from me, all because they hated our love. While I hung on that rope, I of course felt no pain or lack of breath. Some people feared me, while others thought I was a God. They took me from the rope and chose to shoot me instead. Of course, that did nothing. They even tried to drown me in the sea by tying me to stones. I just stayed down there until they were sure that I had died.”

Phil smiled and nuzzled Dan’s cheek with his nose, breathing in his scent softly. “I assume you got your revenge?”

Dan’s eyes glowed yellow at Phil’s question, excitement filling his voice. “Oh yes. That night I crawled out of the water. I went to my old home and collected what I needed most. Then I burned it all to the ground. I spared just your family and a couple of others who were good people. The rest, they deserved it.”

“Good. I don’t understand how they could hate us so much for loving each other. Things have changed now though; it's not perfect, but it’s better.” Phil smiled, “But how did you know I would be back? Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

Dan pulled Phil onto his lap with a small giggle. “The moment that I chose you, I marked you as mine. You can die unlike me, but you’re also cursed to always come back.”

“It doesn’t feel like a curse.” Phil whispered, shuddering when Dan nibbled on his neck.

Dan hummed and held him tightly, sinking his sharp canines into Phil’s soft flesh, making his mate cry out and grip his bare arms. Phil whimpered and squirmed for a moment before going lax against Dan and closing his eyes. The pain from the bite had begun to feel warm and pleasurable, and Phil felt at ease for the first time in much too long. The brunette pulled away and licked the bleeding wound a few times, smiling when it closed up and healed, leaving a scar. Dan rubbed small circles against Phil’s hips and rubbed his nose against his mate’s shoulder.

“I missed you so much.” Dan whispered quietly, fighting back tears.

Phil sighed happily and closed his eyes. “I missed you too. What happens now?”

“I know you plan on moving to Manchester. You have your money saved, yeah? I will go with you, of course. I can start doing Youtube too, and we can be a team. I’ll keep my abilities a secret like I always have and use my magic to grow older with you. No one will suspect a thing.” Dan explained with a dimpled smile.

Phil smiled and hugged his partner. “That sounds perfect. My grandma taught me how to read tarot; I think I predicted that you would find me. Can you help me grow my abilities this time?”

“Of course, pet. It’s late though, and as much as I want to keep you with me, we should go and speak with your family. They need to know everything. I think it’s time that I tell your mother what happened while she was pregnant with you.” Dan explained, standing while carrying Phil in his arms.

Phil nodded and yawned, leaning his head against Dan’s shoulder sleepily. Dan began to hum the familiar tune that had plagued Phil’s mind for months—the same tune that his mother had heard before him. But this time, instead of fear or anger, Phil felt completely at peace.

"Sleep, my marigold; you’re safe with me.” Dan whispered, his brown eyes glowing yellow again.

Phil nodded and closed his eyes. “We can never be apart again, Daniel.”

“And we won’t. I’ll do anything—kill anyone to make sure that nothing will take you from me.” Dan whispered in his honey-laced voice. “I swear on my own existence.”

[folk-enjoyer]

Can you do "Hares on the mountain" by Shirley Collins and Davy Graham? Cheers!!

Suggested Song

(do you want the history of your favorite folk song? dm me or submit an ask, and I'll do a full rundown like here)

"Hares on the Mountain" Shirley Collins and Davy Graham, 1964

"Hares on the Mountain" is a traditional English and Irish folk song that was first mentioned in print in 1837 in "Rory O'More A National Lovestory" (vol. 1 p.234) as "blackbirds and thrishes"

It's almost certain that the song has existed prior, and it could be incredibly old.

the first time it was collected in song was by George Petrie in "The Complete Collection of Irish Music" (1902)

as "All the young maidens were blackbirds and Trushes" like the other book.

i remade this melody so you can hear what it could have sounded like

It was then later collected by Cecil sharp in 1903 and Publish 1904 in "Folk Songs of Somerset" as having two distinct versions

i remade these into melodies as well

version 1

version 2

here

Around the same time, Cecil Sharp would also collect the song, "O Sally My Dear" but wouldn't publish it because of the sexual nature of this song and its relatives, "Pretty Polly" "Nancy and Johnny" and "The Knife in the Window"

This specific family of songs could also be the descendants of an even older folk song that has almost disappeared. except for verses in its descendants. : "The Twa Magicians," which is all over Europe in various forms.

For "Hares on the mountain" The earliest recording I could find of Hares on the Mountain was in 1942 in Somerset, but i don't have access to it. i just know it exists.

The earliest recording I could find that is available publicly is by Horton Barker from just a couple of months later (in the USA), "To My Right", which is the same song as the original "Hares on the Mountain"

Shirley Collins' Version is particularly interesting for combining the lyrics of both "Hares on the mountain" and "Sally My Dear" and making it into a cohesive story. I also love how it seems that Sally is singing "Hares on the Mountain" *to* the young man.

Even though this song is old and has hundreds of versions with dozens of different names, this version is my favorite. It seems that in many versions, the lyrics are meant to be humorous or scandalous, but in Shirley Collins's version, they take on a different tone. They're sad, spooky, and tragic. I like the way that she renders the conversation between the two characters, and her voice is simply angelic. I'm glad that the traditional started to get more attention thanks to her version.

I actually didn't know anything about this song (or that it existed at all) when starting this project as my knowledge is focused on American folk, but as soon as I heard it I knew it was now one of my favorite songs ever. Also! as of last year, Shirley Collins has released another version of the song. Nothing can beat the '60s version, but this one is pretty nice too.

[shoggoth-the-bitch]

Opening with Nikola immediately, I see. Why do this? Oh god.

"Needs to be near us." Breekon and Hope need the coffin near? That's interesting. Also worrying that the coffin is there at all.

Nikola makes me uncomfortable. I kinda love them... They've said "Can I call you Elias?" twice now. I'm not convinced they entirely know what's going on.

Did Jon just try to say "Fuck you?" I'm smiling way too much from this episode already.

Oh god, are they gonna- oh god, they are gonna skin him.

"Can I call you Elias?" Number three.

"Do you have a preferred brand of lotion." Oh my god. This should not be making me laugh so much.

Wait, is this the episode? It is! This where the animatic came from that got me into the show to begin with! Yes!

This one!

Jon, why do you sound more annoyed then you do afraid of this man saying he's gonna kill you? I guess when so many people are saying the exact same threat, it stops being scary after a while.

Okay, Michael or I suppose the Spiral is lies and deception. He has nothing to do with the Unknowing but he wants it to fail. Jon, fuck why he's here, ask what the Unknowing is. He doesn't want the Circus or the Archive to win?

Okay, I think I get it.

Theory before it's all said: Michael was Gertrude's assistant, he some how got taken by the Spiral, and the part of him that is still Michael resents the Archive he what happened to him. The Spiral doesn't want to be Michael anymore because it has made it's nature complicated but I suspect it can't get rid of him, for whatever reason. Okay, starting the video again.

Sure, Michael, give up a statement. I'm sure this will be very coherent and not at all filled with me going "WTF?!" constantly.

Michael Shelly... Oh, Michael here implying Gertrude is deceptive, that's interesting... what? She FEED him to the Spiral? Oh... Michael really cared about Gertrude and she used him for this.

"Is a thing evil when it simply obeys it's own nature?" That is an interesting question. A polar bear isn't evil just because it willing to hunt humans, it's just hungry. And near as I can tell, the Spiral and all these other entities, they also are just hungry in their own ways. So, maybe they aren't evil. Though that certainly doesn't make them good.

"He believed everything she told him..." Alright, me and Gertrude aren't friends anymore. But what is the Becoming, exactly?

"Okay." Jon is just giving up? I mean, I know he lives because there's like 200 episodes but...

What do you mean "It's loc-

Uh... is Michael dead? Oh, hi Helen... Yeah, I guess Michael is dead? If it could kill Michael whenever it wanted, why didn't it before? Or did it need someone to replace him? Which I guess it what Helen is for?

You're options are the door or being skinned, my guy. Make good choices.

Wait, is the Spiral cool? It's just... taking Jon home? That's pretty chill of it, given the Archive's history with it but alright.

Okay, hold up. It's entirely possibly I'm reading this all wrong but were these entities at some point just kinda vibing and Gertrude decided they all needed to be destroyed? Because that's what it sounds like to me. Like, I don't know what the Becoming is yet but it sounds like the Spiral was attempting to transition from being a thing that could never be into something that was and perhaps could even be defined. At it's very core, it sounds like these things simply wish to exist but they're so volatile that it's difficult to do so. Gertrude even wanted to destroy the Archive, the focal point of the Eye. Even though, as far as I can tell, it's only interest is to collect knowledge.

So did she just decide to go rogue and destroy all these monsters and that's why they're mobilizing like they are?

[self-shipping-doll13]

3. Garden - 🕊️♟️🗡️

Spooky Selfshiptober Prompts

After the battle, I slept and ate but little, plagued in grief. Ser Duncan’s passing haunted me; I dreamt of his whiskery face eaten by maggots and rot, the stillness of his once lively eyes. Gurgling, he’d force me into the Blackwater under a fiery emerald sky.

Lady Margaery’s arrival in King’s Landing heralded a new dawn for the capital. The days filled with her amusements: riding, hawking, weaving. Margaery’s invitations shook me from my mournful gloom, so with each leisurely boat trip I recovered, watching Peaches soar overhead, untroubled and free.

The Eyrie, being situated atop a mountain peak, lacked in kennels and stables, and so I was a subpar rider compared to Margaery and her handmaidens. But today we broke off from the other ladies, trotting side-by-side in princess Myrcella’s gardens. The morning air was sweet with the fragrance of fresh autumn flowers; asters, marigolds, dahlias, petunias and roses bloomed in every colour and shade.

“You simply must tell,” Lady Margaery was insisting.

I rode a docile bay mare chosen for her gentleness, whilst hers shone healthily in radiant white-gold. Lannister Gold. A royal gift from her betrothed.

I looked away. “There’s nothing to say, my lady.”

“Ana, you give it all away with your wistful sighs - those giddy little grins of yours. You were so pale when I met you, but you’ve coloured rosy since!”

Truly? “Well, It might be due to your rosy influence.”

Margaery laughed sweetly. “No, I don’t think so.”

I fell silent. Bizarrely, my first thoughts were of laughing grey-green eyes; the taste of fresh mint, sharp as hidden daggers. Lord Baelish is my friend.

“But how do you know?” I challenged her, flustered.

“A woman’s intuition, of course,” she sang. Rubbish.

I hesitated. It would be shameful of me to be cowed by a younger girl, but this one was marrying a king.

“So, is it our Loras? You can trust me, don’t fret!”

“Not Ser Loras.” Who’d never love a woman anyway. “That’s impossible. A Kingsguard can hold no titles or lands, and take no wives.” And she knows this.

“How austere.” Margaery didn’t sound too offended. “Or… did my older brother charm you instead?”

Renly’s ghost. “Garlan already has a wife,” I pointed out, feeling weary now. “And it’s not him, either.”

“Yes, dear Leonette Fossaway,” she tutted, as if to scold herself. “Pardon me, I’ll say no more of it.”

She kept her word for a time. We passed underneath an orchard, vibrant, gilded leaves stirring free and floating down from their twisted white branches.

Margaery’s brown eyes shone in the dappled light. “But I do have another older brother, you know.”

Oh, here we go. “His name is Willas. Not so comely as Loras, perhaps, but kind, and gentle. You’d be a good match. Just think, we’d become sisters!”

Tired, I smiled. Ignoring the fact that Highgarden is a hundred leagues from King’s Landing; and you’ll soon be queen. Margaery was a sly schemer on her own, but I knew it was Olenna Tyrell’s will she was acting upon; a prickly old harridan they called the Queen of Thorns - for her sharp wit. The Tyrells are very ambitious. If they unite east and south, Their golden rosegardens will grow tall and beautiful.

I gave a light spur and broke into a canter, forcing Margaery to hurry up to keep pace. It was not a direct refusal, but it was enough to hint at one.

“You’re too shy, Ana.“ Margaery laughed again. “It is only us blushing maidens. Who is there to fear?

A Spider, perfumed and powdered. “Gossip.”

[monstersinthecosmos]

May I ask you at what point it's clear Anne wrote/decided that Armand was physically a teenager? He doesn't seem to be written specifically as one during IWTV (especially) or even QOTD -- possibly why he's portrayed as a grown man in the early comic books and in the 1994 film?

Okay hahah full disclosure I’m writing this at work instead of working and I don’t have books with me to pull quotes so use your imagination or if anyone wants to jump in with some quotes please feel free!

So in IWTV he’s just described as a young man, and Louis doesn’t go crazy telling us too much about what he looks like. I have a few thoughts about this, and about how it influenced the movie and other incarnations of Armand:

Louis has spent most of his vampire life with a grown woman who looks like a 5 year old, so BIG FUCKIN DEAL LOL, wow ur 17? Get in line.

The movie specifically made him older & more spooky old world looking for the visual contrast, also to sidestep Louis’s rebound love interests both being children/young.

I don’t think we should get too nitpicky about the comic books like let’s, just. Lmao. Let’s leave that one.

By the time he shows up in TVL is when he goes from being described as “young man” to “young boy”.

I lied I do have this one quote:

This was a boy, as I had said, and he had a head of long curly hair, and he walked very straight and very simply through the silvery light and into the church. He hesitated for a moment. And by the tilt of the head, it seemed he was looking up. And then he came on through the nave and towards us, his feet making not the faintest sound on the stones. He moved into the glow of the candles on the side altar. His clothes were black velvet, once beautiful, and now eaten away by time, and crusted with dirt. But his face was shining white, and perfect, the countenance of a god it seemed, a Cupid out of Caravaggio, seductive yet ethereal, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes.

So there’s like, 12 years or whatever that she took between books and that gives her a lot of time to let her mental image and idea of the character to evolve, but also just her writing style is so different. I remember Anne saying that she also had Stella from The Tales of Hoffmann in mind when she wrote Armand, so he evolved from “ageless & androgynous” to “gleaming manikin of a young boy” !

For a visual reference, this is Moira Shearer as Stella, which Anne said was Armand in her mind:

And this is the painting Lestat mentioned:

But I think we are all aware of the tonal shift phenomenon between IWTV & TVL where IWTV is this like, heavy melancholy Gothic tome and then Lestat just shows up and fucking wrecks the place.  I don’t recall ever hearing her talk about this aspect of Armand and I don’t know if she had it in her mind the whole time, even if Louis didn’t take the time to describe it in detail the way Lestat does. I’d love to know how much of this was in her mind the whole time and if anyone has clues please let us know!!!!!!!

TLDR to answer your question, it’s ambiguous in IWTV and obvious in TVL.

HOWEVER.

I have this crack theory lmfao. !!!!!!!!!! About how Prince Alexi in The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty is also an auburn haired teenager, and how it was written in between the two VC books.

I mean like. Anne can say anyone has auburn hair but it’s just such a staple for Armand 2 ICONIC so how are you NOT gonna wonder about it when she’s writing BDSM porn? Idk.

There’s really no evidence for this except me with my Charlie Day board but sometimes I wonder if that break between books influenced her idea of him at all, and what impact it had on her prose for when she returned to Lestat, and I always wonder if they’re connected at all. IT JUST SEEMS SUSPICIOUS TO ME.

Like I mean. I think, there’s lots of teenagers in her books, so maybe this isn’t really much of a coincidence. But. I must wonder!

[thegeminisage]

much as it pains me, i only have an hour or so before bedtime so i've decided to press on to gerudo town...i want my snow boots before i try to get that memory and i KNOW they are there

omg this stable has boxes everywhere?! my buddy is here too. where to even begin

YOOOOO evil zelda has been at work here.........telling them not to go near the WELL in a DESERT?

cleaning up thi hoarder junk lol just like real life

man...it's so SAD to be their final customer :( it's sad they have to close up forever...

oh!! he wants art for the stable's final days 😭

geez, those are some tough pictures to get...i'll do my best, but not tonight lol

evil zelda saying stay away from the well is why it's shutting down!!! noooo

girl why does everyone obey her like that, like against logic...the monarchy barely means anything anymore. shes my babygirl but like if my stable was closing bc of some nonsense order i would simply violate the order

DONT TAKE ME OUT OF THE WELL I NEED THAT LOOT........

OMG yessssss FROGGY LEGGINGS!!!!!! god at LAST...only ONE MORE PIECE TO GO............

if i cleaned the well out does that mean the stable can open again 🥺

oh, when your meal pouch is full addison gives you rupees twice lol

im in the desert and i HATE. SAND. anakin skywalker was right about everything

oooh but it looks so different...the bazaar...what IS that tall thing...how do i sneak in this time lol

this poor korok will have to wait til i get my fucking sand & snow boots

oh cool you can rent a sand seal with a CARRIER now...love it

ah, i see. i guess i can take the korok after all lol. one less for later!

this sand shroud business seems SPOOKY...wild weather in real life fascinates me, and so too does wild video game weather

damn this old lady is fucking jaded. begging me not to drop dead in front of her lol

oh FUN this gerudo is teaching me like, gerudo language, and she's trying to teach me how to make the "v" sound...which i know, because english, but in japanese they don't have that i don't think. COOOOLL

lol a rito just named guy

ah, the updraft is to fly over the shroud...very good. i remember the map not working in botw and it was scary lol

but i still wonder how i get in??

just like when i did the story in the other areas i activate the shrines and leave them behind...smh. at least this time i have the excuse of "it's almost bedtime"

WHAT is this big mushroom thing with the bud in it??? looks almost like a lightroot

i've officially hit 999 brightbloom seeds lol. the game won't let me pick up anymore

oh wow the map going fuzzy is just as bad as i remember lol. it's bedtime but i just GOTTA get to town first...i think i remember an npc saying something about zombies i WANT TO SEE THE REDEADS (or do i)

okay. so.

i got. in. like by just. walking in.

saw a redead. immediately froze in terror.

it's not moving. i'm not moving. alright. alright

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I SHOT IT AND IT GOT BACK UP KILL IT WITH FIRE

killed it with fire. don't like that

GIBDO BONE..........................it is literally not a gibdo. it's not a mummy. it's a redead!!!

shit fuck this looks. so bad. hudson's poor daughter...where even IS everyone

riju's not here...but i found her diary

my friends link and zelda are in hyrule and they'll take care of it 😭

geez she is so young to be dealing with all of this...older now but still

SNOWSHOE DUDE????

oh my god he's FINALLY in........but to what avail..................

so, everyone is hiding in the wells...

wow, even the bar is fucked up......tragic

where tf are the wells?

OH i found one!!! a square well!

message in a BOTTLE!!!! JUST LIKE OOT

oh lol it's a love letter from a gerudo. girl.......you can't just put love letters in bottles...you and finley both...enough

oh i found the way in but i don't have the girl clothes :( idk how to do it!!!

BULIARA WITH THE STEEL CHAIR

omg i get the special exception rule <3 i guess thats better than the last game...?

man they arent even allowed to talk to me lol

oh, these guys don't seem to know the trick - killing them with fire lol

another heroines quest! i'll be honest i didn't really understand the first one...

omg they put a guy in JAIL for coming in here...they're serious!!

ok the last thing i wanted to do before bed, which i am late for, was get my shoes. i had to look up the location but AAAA theres two redeads in my way!!!!!!!!! literally kill with fire

i am so tense and hypervigilant walking thru this town. my eyes sweeping everywhere between steps. i am NOT gonna get jumped by one of those motherfuckers this close 2 bedtime

oh god FINALLY made it

those brightbloom seeds just paid for my desert vai armor! of course i had enough for the boots and bought them first lol

well it's more than half an hour past the bedtime i wanted

but i unblocked the door and walked out

saw a redead shambling towards me. went back in.

that's a sign. that's for future liz to deal with tomorrow. eugh