#wraith prop

[calmlb]

can we as a society please stop calling Dazai the “demon prodigy” like it’s canon??? IM BEGGING

his canon nickname is so underused too… i mean c’mon, the “black wraith of the Port Mafia??” idk if i’ve ever even seen it used in a fic 😭

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Spawnable Nomad Tent Prop

Virgile and Panam, celebrating having their very own tent. Virgile belongs to @gloryride. Panam belongs to no one, are you kidding? lol

Have you been frustrated at not being able to customize your own Aldecaldos tent for your blorbos? NO LONGER! Now you can spawn your very own tent and decorate it as you like!

This is still technically a WIP as I want to add some Aldecaldos decals to it (and maybe a Wraith version, too), but I got distracted by other things (underwear) so I'm releasing this version for whoever would like to try it!

Important: There is no collision for the tent. I couldn't figure out how to fix this but meh, easy access is good, right? ;)

>>> DOWNLOAD ON MEGA <<<

[nkorange]

"She put this blade in my hands and my whole life changed…"

[spicysourchimken]

Murder! Murder! Murder!

TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of death, murder, descriptions of corpses, gore and corpse desecration

(This Idea is loosely inspired by @/the-witchhunter's 'Ghost in the Morgue', please go check it out if you like this concept and have not yet read it)

[Other stuff in this AU: World Building]

Corpses au Danny, not just Corpse but Corpses. Every time Danny transforms he drops a new body, Danny honestly has lived with it long enough that it's funny at this point (and also. maybe made him a little weird about his own death and or deaths). This is not the same for Tim, who now has to deal with a potential serial killer.

Tim is looking into a string of strange and suspicious deaths that might point to the appearance of a new rogue, this results in him taking a visit to the morgue as Red Robin, only to meet a potential victim, Daniel Fenton the latest medical examiner for GCPD.

----

Tim was the one who had found the first body a week ago. He'd been on patrol when he'd spotted it propped up against a dumpster in an alley. It couldn't have been there longer than an hour, the blood was far too fresh.

Tim had planned to just check out the scene and call it in, but then he actually saw the body. It'd been eviscerated, torso ripped open organs spilling out and its hands had been frozen to the ground- hell the entire body seemed to be coated in a layer of frost.

Tim kept tabs on the investigation, if anything for simple curiosity. Then they'd found the second body. Body frozen to the ground, same victim profile- but the death had been completely different. Slashed throat, face mutilated.

Then there was another, and this time Tim wanted to see it in person. This was either a serial killer or the start of a new rogue, and for Tim to be able to tell he needed to see. He sent word to Gordon, if anything more of a warning. He was greeted by the medical examiner.

Greeted was a strong word.

The medical examiner was... strange. Tim had heard news of him starting work and as far as Tim was aware of he was clean, and an almost boring person. The medical examiner that Tim met was unnerving. Pale, staring almost through him and carried blase attitude to his work.

What was worse is that he reminded so much of a corpse, not just a corpse but the corpse.

Then it struck him.

Fenton could be a target. Fenton could be the focus of the killer's obsession.

He'd have to keep tabs on Fenton, too bad he might be the most reckless Gotham citizen in existence.

----

Gotham, admittedly hadn't been Danny's first pick after he finished medical school. Danny had always intended to become a medical examiner, dealing with your own corpses for years would do that do you. 'Finished' was the real problem, Danny had been doing well, great even but then he'd died. Twice. Real unfortunate really, hit and run and then poison, left him with a dry throat for weeks.

His own classmate apparently tried to kill him, which means it would be more than hard to actually finish medical school. That's fine, he had access to Tucker, an actual godsend who was able to make it look like he had all the proper qualifications... as long as you didn't look too hard.

Gotham was apparently pressed for a good medical examiner. All he needed to be was experienced.

Thankfully he had that in spades.

Things frankly only started going down hill last week. He'd made a habit of taking on requests between work, occultist avoided Gotham like the plague leaving him the only voice for the dead. Usually it was pretty easy gig, collect some momentos, help a few ghosts recognize they're dead. Until he'd had to deal with a Wraith.

It didn't go well. Danny was dead set on handling it as a human, appearing as Phantom could cause all matter of chaos. Danny had also not been informed that the claws of a wraith could pierce through human flesh so there's that. Danny was once again evicted from the mortal coil, dropping his own corpse and having to finish the fight off

Danny had planned to deal with his body after gaining his human form back and making sure that the thing could no longer return to the earthly plane. Turns out a bat got there first, turned the place into a crime scene. Just his luck he was beaten bloody enough to be unrecognizable.

His luck continued to go down hill when he was killed, not once, not twice but three times (this of course, wasn't accounting for the times he'd needed to go ghost). He'd gotten good at taking care of his bodies in Gotham at that point, or so he thought, until he was told he had not only a new body on his table and Red Robin waiting to be escorted to his morgue.

Now Danny has to juggle the growing chaos that it they spirits of Gotham while trying to make sure none of his bodies are identified, even if that means making a mess of Red Robin's investigations.

[nullusreimorio]

Degrees of Lewdity AU: Actor AU

Yes, you heard that right, folks! DoL:ActAU will now be a thing in my blog.

Re-reading this made my brain go BRRRR, because in my head a random person getting their costume's head off is that funny, and from there it all spiraled down.

The Whitney breaks Syd's glasses scene in particular is stuck in my head, because I imagine that at some point, right before Whit can grab the glasses, Syd would scream to wait, making Whit shit himself cuz dude what is happening. The director screams cut, of course. "I'm so sorry, these are my real glasses-" while laughing, and taking them off to give into custody before putting on the props, with Whitney just wheezing in the background.

The genderbent version of LIs would mostly be people that really resemble each other, except for the Kylar duo. They are twins who love to scare other people by just staring at them (it is a running inside joke on set).

Bailey is actually a sweet parental figure off-character, always making sure he didn't actually hurt the other actors (think Jason Isaac in Harry Potter as he switches between the cruel Lucius Malfoy and actually caring for Tom Felton, asking him if he's ok and apologizing when he did in fact hurt him by accident)

Another running gag on set is Harper just.. being there. Smiling at everyone with cold eyes, bombing pictures and selfies. Sometimes they stay in the background of the scene, looking directly at the camera. They say it's funnier to stay in character. Off-character they are very fun to be around, but they enjoy unsettling people. Them and the Kylars are sometimes banned from being in the studio if the scene doesn't need them.

GH got tangled up in the fly system. Everyone laughed and took pictures and videos, but promptly eliminated them at GH's request. They are shy.

The Averys enjoy their role very much. What they don't enjoy is having to drink grape juice or scented water instead of actual alcohol. They do get a nice glass of wine once off-set are over.

Whenever the Wrens are in the studio, F!Whit, M!Robin, the Wrens, F!BW, the Edens, F!Avery and the Baileys get a bit too much into playing cards. Blackjack, Durak, Scopa, Rummy, Machiavelli... the list could go on. They always manage to rope technicians to play with them as well.

Everyone hates the Kylars because their makeup doesn't need much time, while everyone else (ESPECIALLY GH, BW and IW) need enough time to always look polished/roughed up, depending on the situation.

M!Jordan is actually atheist, and whenever he has to talk like a true Christian guy, once his line is over he mocks himself. He enjoys wearing his costume off-set just for shits and giggles, and other actors often visit him in the confessional just to say "I'm sorry daddy, I've been naughty~" "Jail for a hundred years. NEXT"

F!Jordan and Ivory Wraith are actually cousins, and sometimes M!Jordan and Ivory Wraith swap costumes to see if there is any difference other than Jordan's massive tits.

Aaaand that's it, for now! As of now this is how far my brain thought while in the middle of exams, I will slowly add more into it. I don't know if it was already done, but thinking about these jackasses actually play-pretending makes me feel better ^^

[beansprean]

Oh to be is grabbed...

My Familiar’s Ghost part 52

Masterpost

New pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Close up on Ghost Guillermo, both hands held out in front of him and clenched in the air as if trying to grab onto something. His ghostly light is flaring brightly around him, filling the entire panel as he strains and shakes, eyes closed and lips pressed firmly together. 2. Zoom out to a wide shot of Guillermo on one side of the table and Nadja on the other, Dolly propped in her lap. The taxidermy beaver Nandor is in the center of the table, draped in the bloody blouse, with lit candles in a circle around it casting an orange glow on everyone present. Guillermo lets out a breath and deflates, relaxing his arms exhaustedly. Tendrils of his ghostly light retreat back toward him. His wraith cloak is nearly fully formed. He says, 'This isn't working! I'm thinking of the Panera as hard as I can, but it's hard to remember exactly what it looks like.' Nadja scowls, replying, 'Well, there's your problem!' 3. Close up on Nadja and Dolly. Nadja waves her hand at Guillermo and says 'You should be thinking about Nandor. Surely you have enough about him living in your stupid little wraith brain.' Dolly nods from her lap. 4. Reverse shot of Guillermo, staring anxiously back with his fists pulled close to his chest. Dolly says from offscreen: 'Picture him in your mind. Materialize your bond with him. It may be helpful to imagine it as a string connecting you or a hand reaching out.' Nadja adds 'Then just...' 5. Reverse shot of Nadja grinning as she grabs Dolly around the torso with both hands and whooshes her up into the air, continuing, 'Grab him!' Dolly smiles and throws her arms in the air in a ta-da motion; text nearby reads 'is grabbed' in brackets. 6. Shot of Guillermo in profile as he looks back down at the nanbeaver facing him, touching a hand to his chin in thought. Still visibly nervous, he replies, 'Right, right, I can do that...' From offscreen, Dolly asks 'I wonder if Guillerpire slays ghosts, too?' Nadja responds 'Mm, I guess we'll see.' 7. Extreme closeup on Guillermo's face in profile as he straightens and closes his eyes, breathing out steadily. His ghostly light begins to flare up again, and a vision of Nandor from their talk in the attic appears in the background, looking shy and tucking his hair behind his ear. 8. Repeat. The vision in the background changes to Nandor pinned to the wall of his crypt by the stake Guillermo threw in his rage, and Guillermo physically flinches back. /End ID

[ragingbookdragon]

Good In Theory, Better In Practice

Alejandro Vargas x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Explicit Language, Sexual Themes

Author's Note: I'm gonna write SMUT soon, aren't I? I can feel it. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Alejandro was no stranger to big eaters. He’d been raised in a large family, had multiple squads, and now ran an entire army—he had seen folks pack away some food. That being said, the 141 seemed to be endless pits for beer and homecooked food. He watched Soap and Price go head-to-head on how many beers they could drink in five minutes, watched as the waitress brought out Ghost’s third plate of steak fajitas, and watched Gaz eat his weight in chorizo and beans. Even he and Rudy didn’t have room enough in their stomachs for that much food. They’d cleared about two plates themselves and more than a few beers before deciding it was best to hold off on more food.

He sat back in his seat, half tempted to unloop his belt and caught the eye of the woman who’d come along with them. It was almost as if she was Ghost and Soap put together, the silence of Ghost in friendly situations and the complete disregard for seriousness like Soap in dire circumstances. Wraith. They called her, a counterpart to Ghost it seemed. Alejandro had observed them in battle. Like a tag-team, they struck in fluid motion, mowing down enemies before they even realized the two had descended upon them. She, like Ghost, had an affinity for knives, but he realized that while the rest of them wore protective gear of all kinds, she only had a vest, kneepads, and a belt. No extra ammo pockets, no safety gear tucked away. Just a tri-edged knife and a carbine slung around her back was all she carried with her. And she was, exactly like a wraith, striking when least expected and gone with a whisper. Hell on heels. Deadly, and strikingly beautiful.

Alejandro gave her a friendly smile and she nodded her head going back to her food. Which is why he was so surprised. Wraith, had put away more food than anyone at the table. And more than a few piña coladas and tequila shots along with it. Yet, she seemed in perfect condition, sober and still hungry. She finished the plate and stood, turning around to the bartender as she said, “Oye, barman, dame dos Modelos, por favor.”

She walked around the table and sat next to Alejandro, propping an elbow in the table as she put her chin on her palm and stared at him; the bartender put the beers in front of them and she took hers, taking a sip of it. “Are you married, Alejandro?”

It reminded him of his sister asking. Ya estás casado, Ale? No te estás volviendo más joven, ya sabes. Necesitas establecerte y casarte con una buena mujer. He gave a humored chuckle and raise the bottle to his lips. “Unfortunately, Wraith, I haven’t had much time to find a wife.” He smiled at her. “What of you? Are you married?”

“Do I look like the type of woman who is married?” she gestured to herself. “I’ve literally eaten five plates of tacos, drank five margaritas, and had at least ten beers.” She blinked, deadpanning, “I outman most men who meet me and they very much so lose interest in me.”

Alejandro laughed. “Debes estar bromeando. Una mujer hermosa como tú tiene que tener muchos admiradores.”

She scoffed. “Beauty means nothing to a man when he feels like his manhood is being challenged.”

“That is because they are not real men,” he said. “Los hombres reales reconocen a las mujeres reales.”

Her eyes narrowed and suddenly Alejandro felt like the temperature had risen a few degrees around them as she finished the rest of her beer and leaned over, pointer finger swirling around the rim of his beer bottle. “And what of the real man before me?” she purred. “Does he recognize a real woman before him?”

He swallowed thickly feeling very fidgety in his seat, as if all eyes were on him. He cast a quick glance around. No one seemed to be listening to them, Price and Soap still going at it with new rounds, Gaz fighting sleep from fullness, and Ghost was in his own world enjoying authentic fajitas. It was just the two of them and he looked back at her; her expression was calm, waiting, so many things he couldn’t decipher hidden underneath the surface, but he saw her eyes. Saw the game in them, the chase, she was the huntress and he, her prey. One misstep and he was done for.

I do recognize you before me.

I want you.

We are as real as each other.

So many thoughts and all he could say was, “My mother would love you.”

Split second, her mask dropped in shock, then laughter peeled from her, shaking her shoulders as she laid her head on his shoulder, burying her face in his bicep and his cheeks reddened as she continued to laugh and pat at his thigh, until she sat up and wiped her eyes; she gave him a fond look and to ease his embarrassment, she said, “I would love to meet your mother.”

Alejandro melted, shoulders drooping as this woman, this Wraith, suddenly became so clear to him. She wasn’t a woman who could outman men (she really was), she was simply a woman. A good woman. The kind of woman he’d always wanted to settle down with. A good, strong woman.

She poked his forehead. “Careful there, amante, you’re gonna burn holes in me.”

“No puedo evitarlo. Haces que mi alma cante como nunca antes lo había hecho.”

“Well, aren’t you just a romantic,” she cooed and stood from her seat, holding out her hand; when he stared at it, she retracted and did it again. “Gonna take it or ya gonna keep staring at it like I’m not offering a dance?” she gave him a look. “Can you dance?”

“I can dance,” he shot back and stood, and she dragged him over to the jukebox in the corner of the bar. “What are we dancing to?”

“You’ll find out,” she murmured, staring at the list of songs before grinning as she shoved a few coins in and punched a button.

Drums echoed through the speakers followed by the strumming of a guitar; “Bailando?” Alejandro smirked. “Te gusta Enrique Iglesias?”

She kept to the beat of the music as they twirled and danced around each other. “I like a lot, Alejandro. Let me stick around and you might learn more.”

He spun her out, pulling her back in and she cocked a leg up around his hips, the hand that had hers dropped to hold her leg there (as if she needed the help), but he couldn’t help but squeeze the meat of her thigh. His free hand landed at her back as she bent backwards, all the way until she was crescent; he pulled her back up until her body was snug against his, lips almost brushing as he confessed, “Nada me encantaría más que te quedaras.”

“I’m not looking around for fun, y’know, Alejandro.”

He cocked her leg higher and stepped back, letting her stretch the step as he did and with dead seriousness, he replied, “Soy un hombre sencillo. No tengo tiempo para jugar ni con mi corazón ni con el tuyo. Sé lo que quiero.” Alejandro had her by her hips. “I want you.”

“Better men have hit their knees, Alejandro. And many men have tried for mine.”

He shook his head. “I will succeed where they have failed.”

“Cocky much?”

Alejandro pulled her up and spun her one last time with the beat, ending the song with one hand under her knee as she bent back again, and when she came up, he purred, “¿Para tu? Para siempre.”

She grinned like a madwoman and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, take me to church, I’ve finally found the man who will make a woman out of me.”

“If I make you any more of a woman, you’ll have no need for me.”

“Nonsense,” she muttered with a shake of her head. “I’ll always have a need for you to stand around and drive me wild with lust.”

“So long as I’m always needed, mi reina,” he replied with a grin, tipping forward to kiss her when,

“DAD! WRAITH’S GONNA KISS AN OLDER MAN! STOP HIM!”

They turned to see the entire 141 and half of Alejandro’s soldiers staring at them, half had their phones out. Silence bled the room and Alejandro did the only thing he could think of, bent down, picked her up at her knees and shouted, “Soldados, me voy a casar con esta mujer!”

His group erupted into shouts and the 141 stared in confusion until she said, “We’re gonna get married one day.”

“Tonight, if she lets me,” Alejandro added in.

“Don’t push your luck, handsome.” He looked up at her and she planted her elbows on his shoulders. “Ah, fuck it, Price marry us! I know you got ordained one day!”

“What.” Price blinked, rubbing at his eyes before he turned to Ghost. “Simon. When did this happen?”

Ghost shoved the last of the fajitas in his mouth and said, “They’ve been eye-fucking since we got here. Love at first sight.”

“We’re still here, y’know?” She called out and Ghost looked at her.

“Gonna tell me you haven’t been eye-fucking the Colonel since he shook your hand?” he scoffed. “You’ve been thinking of a way to get him in your pants since.”

“Is this true?” Alejandro asked and she looked down.

“If I say yes and I going to be in trouble?”

“Possibly.”

She waggled her brows and flirted, “Is it the sexy kind of trouble?”

“Yes.”

“Then absolutely, I’ve been trying to get you to fuck me ever since I got here,” she confessed without a lick of shame in her tone, expression, or body. “Wholeheartedly admit it. Can confirm. Aye-aye sir. Take me home, Colonel, do me wherever, however, and how ever long your heart desires.” She lowered her voice and breathed, “As good of a whore as I am in theory, I’m even better in practice.”

His eyes had darkened with every word, and she smirked as he heaved her up and over his shoulder. “Perdónenme hombres, es hora de que nos despidamos por la noche.”

“Aww, but I didn’t get to drink another piña colada,” she whined, yelping when his palm flattened against her ass with a crack. “HEY NOT IN PUBLIC! MY DAD’S HERE!”

Price watched them leave, the soldiers cheering and drinking to the Colonel’s newfound love, and he looked at his men. “Has my not-daughter always been a…” he cleared his throat and made a gesture.

“A whore?” Simon offered and nodded. “Big time. And believe me, I’ve met some. Wraith fits right in.”

Soap leaned over Price. “Watch how you talk about our sister. She can’t help being a whore. It’s who she is.” The two of them snickered as Price started to groan about going wrong somewhere.

[jahayla-parker]

Stuck : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Description: 3.3k wc, y/n plans to stick it out with Kaz no matter how many times or how hard he tries to push her away. Hurt-comfort, slight angst-fluff, fluff

Warnings: typical SoC topics and warnings, including but not limited to; thievery, risk/danger, potential attack, touch-phobias, trauma, drinking, etc.

Y/n yawned and stretched her legs underneath the bar countertop. She rested her head on her palm with her elbow propped up on the counter. She desperately needed some sleep. The Crows’ latest heist didn’t go well; they hadn’t been able to get their hands on the item they were trying to steal. In addition, they’d also almost been captured after being discovered. As such, it has been a long night already. Not to mention, Kaz had been in a foul mood ever since.

Jesper ordered another drink from the bartender as he drunkenly placed his arm around y/n’s hunched shoulders. “I don’t get it,” he muttered, lazily shaking his head at her.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that, Jes?” Y/n questioned with slight amusement. Drunken Jesper always had thoughts that he just had to get off his chest. Usually they were incoherent, illogical, or simply hilarious. Despite her exhaustion, Y/n was therefore curious as to what the sharpshooter was going to say tonight.

“Why you put up with the Basssstard,” Jesper slurred.

Y/n squinted at Jesper in confusion. Sure, her boyfriend Kaz could be difficult at times, but that was true about everybody. She also didn’t understand why Jesper was bringing that up currently. It wasn’t Kaz’s fault the heist went sideways. So why was he commenting on Kaz?

Nina laughed affectionately. She was seated on y/n’s other side. She had noticed the confused expression on her friend’s face and decided to explain the reason behind Jesper’s drunk questioning. “You’ve been looking over at him to check on him since we got back,” Nina teased as she playfully rolled her eyes. “Even as you’re about to pass out on the bar top”.

Y/n’s eyes flickered down to the counter bashfully. “Oh,” she whispered shyly. She hadn’t realized she was doing that. Much less that she was doing it to the extent others noticed.

“Soooooo,” Jesper butted in, tugging y/n by her shoulder to his side.

Y/n bit her lip and shook her head at Jesper softly. “I'm with him. For better or for worse,” she declared tenderly. Her eyes floated over to Kaz after her whispered comment. She sighed as she watched him leave the club, anger still radiating off of him.

"It'll probably be worse,” Nina replied, earning a head nod from Jesper in agreement.

Y/n shrugged as she pushed herself up from the counter. She slipped out from under Jesper’s embrace. "I knew that the day I met him,” y/n shrugged. She knew Kaz had his struggles and that being with him wouldn’t be nearly as easy as a relationship with anyone else would be; but she didn’t care. Her heart belonged to The Bastard of the Barrel. And she wouldn’t change that for anything.

Y/n stifled another yawn as she slowly made her way out of The Crow Club and to The Slat. Though she wasn’t traveling far, she knew showing any kind of weakness, even so much as a yawn, could make her a target. It would show her tiredness which someone might mistake as a vulnerability that would make her easy prey. As such, when she felt the presence of someone near by, she halted in the middle of the dark street. She turned sharply on her heels to face the direction she’d sensed someone. As y/n’s eyes located The Wraith a few feet back, she sighed in relief. A kind smile formed on her lips as she took a few steps back towards The Crow Club in order to greet her friend.

Inej had been on the hunt for intel per Kaz’s request order after their unsuccessful heist. As such, she and y/n hadn’t seen each other since before things had gone wrong. Inej ignored the slight frustration at how Y/n had once again been able to detect her presence. She and Kaz were the only two who could somehow do that, and neither one would tell Inej how. Regardless of the slight irritation she felt, Inej was overwhelmingly pleased to see her friend.

Inej and Y/n shared a short embrace as they stepped to the side of the street so there weren’t stopped in the middle. “Headed home?” Inej asked, nodding towards The Slat.

Y/n nodded and placed a hand over her mouth, turning her head towards the brick wall beside her as she fought off another yawn. “How was intel?” She whispered as she turned back to Inej. Y/n chose to ignore the way Inej’s amused expression told her that Inej had caught onto her yawning.

“It was just a fluke,” Inej simplified.

Y/n sighed. “Lovely,” she responded sarcastically.

Inej nodded, “yeah, Kaz wasn’t pleased to hear that discovery.”

Y/n hummed quietly. “Understandable,” she whispered. She knew Kaz was already blaming himself for not seeing the chaos of tonight coming. Now that he’d been told there was no way to see it coming, one would think he’d relax some. But, y/n knew better. She knew it was only going to make Kaz more frustrated as he felt there was always a way to be prepared for things like this but hadn’t determined where the oversight was for tonight.

Inej nodded her head towards The Slat again in question. “Ready?”

“You headed there too?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah,” Inej smiled softly. “I just finished checking on the others, so now I can go rest”.

Y/n smiled and nodded. “And, by checked on.., you mean stared at them from out of sight as they encouraged Jesper to keep up his drunken antics?” She teased.

Inej laughed loudly, quickly covering her mouth with her hand as her laughter echoed in the street. She bashfully nodded with a casual shrug.

Y/n smiled at the Wraith’s admission. But, the grin left her face as she recalled Jesper’s insulting question his drunken episode had caused him to ask.

“What’d he do tonight?” Inej asked. It wasn’t hard for her to catch onto the shift in y/n’s emotions; she knew her friend too well by now.

Y/n sighed and shook her head. She silently resumed walking to The Slat. She wasn’t intending to complain about Jesper, it just frustrated her to think of his insinuations behind the question.

“You know I can find out for myself,” Inej smirked. She softly nudged Y/n as they walked away from The Crow Club.

Y/n chuckled lightly at Inej’s soft threat. She hummed as she nodded her head in acceptance. She sighed softly. “He was just annoyed with Kaz again,” she said vaguely.

Inej hummed. “And said something insulting, or something you found to be insulting at least?” She guessed

Y/n sighed and nodded.

Inej let y/n remain silent as to not push if she was not wanting to talk about it any more. After a few moments, she elected to offer a general statement of support. “You know, they’re like brothers, he likely didn’t mean whatever he said”.

Y/n shook her head. “He didn’t say anything,” she explained. “He was questioning me.”

“You?” Inej gasped lightly. “Over what?“ she asked protectively. As the girls stepped into The Slat, the Dregs paused and looked their way. Once the Dregs realized it was just them and not anyone from a rival gang, they resumed their conversations and rambunctious behaviors.

Y/n gazed up the stairs as a way of signaling towards Kaz’s room and office. She looked back at Inej to see if she’d caught on.

Inej sighed sympathetically and nodded. “He wonders why you chose him,” she interpreted vaguely so if any Dregs were listening they wouldn’t understand who the girls were talking about.

Y/n groaned and nodded as they reached the stairwell. “It’s not even his business,” she complained as she started up the stairs. She shook her head at her own attitude. “But, like.., it’s not even a choice, you know?” Y/n asked rhetorically as Inej followed one step behind her. “And even if it were, I’d still choose him.” She puffed her cheeks in exasperation. “I don’t know why that’s so hard to comprehend!”

“To be fair, Y/n,” Inej paused. She rested her hand on her friend’s arm. “He’s different with you.”

Y/n shook her head. She’d seen Kaz interact with the others for years before they even started dating. What was Inej talking about? She rolled her eyes and kept going up the stairs. She truly was in need of some sleep and everyone else clearly was as well as they were all talking nonsense. Kaz was rough on the outside, sure. But, he cared about all of his Crows and even his Dregs; more than they’d ever see.

“Y/n,” Inej sighed. She moved up a few steps and grabbed y/n’s hand to stop her. “We’ve both known him a long time,” she acknowledged. “You know him better, but I saw him before you came along,” Inej pointed out tenderly.

Y/n squinted in confusion. Where was this going?

Inej pulled y/n to the side, closer to her so she didn’t have to speak loudly. “When I first met Kaz…” she sighed and shook her head. She took a deep breath as she started again. “Since I met him, he carries more anger and pain than a thousand armies could ever bear. He was betrayed, deceived, hurt.” Inej sighed. “And while we all have been,” she acknowledged. “Believe me when I say he has already crossed Hell.” Inej saw the frustration and protectiveness bubbling up in Y/n. So, she continued. “And, the only time I saw peace in his eves was when he saw you,” Inej concluded.

Y/n faltered. Her mouth was slightly parted as she processed the statement. She knew she was something special to Kaz. But his source of peace? That seemed far fetched. Y/n wanted nothing more than to believe Inej. After all, that’s all she wanted for Kaz; for him to be happy and have some semblance of peace after all he’d gone through and done for others (even if he wouldn’t admit those things was done for that reason).

Inej smiled widely and tsked jokingly. “I don’t know how you don’t see it,” she teased her friend, “but it’s true.” “Regardless of whether we understand your reasoning for being with him, it’s clear that it’s good for him.” She rubbed y/n’s arm sweetly. “The only thing that matters is if it’s good for you too.” Inej already knew it was, but she wanted y/n to think it over.

“It is,” Y/n whispered. It was a hushed response as she was still in shock.

Inej nodded and smiled before marching up to where her room was.

Y/n smiled to herself as she followed Inej the rest of the way up in silence. In a slight daze, she went to her own room and changed into an undershirt and sweatpants instead of her standard tighter clothing she had on. She then smiled at herself in the dirty mirror briefly as Inej’s words of how Y/n benefited Kaz echoed in her mind.

Y/n paused briefly outside of Kaz’s door as she tried to compose her excitement over Inej’s statement. She knew Kaz was likely experiencing the opposite emotions after what had happened tonight. She smiled once more and licked her lips as she put on a stoic look before opening the door.

Kaz’s eyes shot up at Y/n as she entered his room. He watched her silently as she gave him a soft expression in greeting as she walked to the foot of his bed. His heart beat loudly as she casually picked up the stuffed crow Kaz had gotten her a few months ago.

Kaz remembered seeing the stuffed plush animal at the market a few weeks before he’d bought it. Y/n had pointed out how cute it was and joked about it possibly being a mini-Kaz if she got it and made it a small top hat. A few months ago, he sought it out when she was having nightmares and brought it up to his room. It was meant to help her have something to hold since Kaz himself couldn’t offer much solace in that that area. While he knew she cherished the tiny stuffed crow, the sight of it tonight made him angry.

Kaz had overheard Inej and Y/n talking as they made their way up the creaky wooden stairs of The Slat. He knew it was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from focusing in on their conversation as he drowned out the noises of the Dreg’s downstairs. In his defense, he wasn’t expecting to hear what he did. The heist tonight had gone wrong, and his girl and the rest of his Crows had almost been captured as a result. He had to know what Y/n and Inej were saying about it. He suspected he’d hear something he could use to confirm his own self-blame. He hadn’t been expecting to hear Y/n sound upset as she mentioned something about Jesper taking a shot at Kaz. But, it wasn’t too surprising as Kaz knew how undeservingly protective she was over him. What did surprise Dirtyhands, was hearing Inej’s statement of Y/n being his peace and how positive of an influence Y/n was on Kaz/ in his life. Kaz didn’t disagree. But, he hadn’t been ready to disclose such a vulnerability to anyone yet; not even to Y/n herself. Yet, evidently Inej noticed and took it upon herself to do so.

Kaz wasn’t angry that Inej said what she did. While at first, he thought he was, if he was honest with himself that anger was misplaced. He was actually mad at himself. He should’ve been the one to tell Y/n such sentiments. She deserved to hear it from him. Yet, even though she’d already heard it, Kaz knew he still wouldn’t be able to bring himself to say it out loud outright to her even now. He just wasn’t there yet.

The stuffed crow Y/n was presently snuggling as she sat crisscrossed on his bed was another sign of how far Kaz still had to go. Of how little positivity he could bring to y/n’s life. It wasn’t fair. He was taking and not giving. And even when he gave, he couldn’t give the way she deserved. He knew how she felt about him. But right now, that just made him feel like she was stuck with him. That she had to put up with his failures because of her feelings towards him.

“Kaz,” y/n mumured softly as she suppressed a gasp. She’d been watching him silently as he stared blankly at her, clearly deep in thought. However, the single tear that escaped his right eye and rolled down his cheek broke her silence.

Y/n’s voice pulled Kaz from his thoughts. He felt the dampness on his cheek and grimaced. He aggressively wiped his eye before looking down at his desk. “I need to work on the next heist,” Kaz stated firmly.

Y/n wanted to talk to Kaz about what was happening. She wanted to know what has caused him to tear up. But, she knew he already was on the defensive and trying to push him to talk wouldn’t get anywhere. “Okay,” y/n accepted, her tone light and casual.

Kaz gripped his pen tightly. “Alone,” he grumbled.

Y/n silently raised her eyebrows as she stared at him. Usually whenever he’d react in a way that was him trying to push her away, a simple look would get him to stop and adjust his behavior.

“Y/n,” Kaz groaned, looking over at her with a sharp expression.

Y/n mentally sighed; it wasn’t working tonight. Yet, despite the sharp expression Kaz donned, she could see the emotions swirling in his eyes. He wasn’t mad, he was deflecting and trying to put up a wall to keep his distance. “Yes?” Y/n questioned, her tone innocent.

Kaz sighed. He looked away, unable to say what he needed to say while looking at y/N’s face. “Go away”.

“No,” y/n replied casually. Her fingers stroked the fuzz on the stuffed animal crow in her hands as she watched Kaz.

“Y/n,” Kaz groaned, looking up from his desk again. “That was an order,” he said, less resistant this time given her unexpected response.

Y/n nodded in acknowledgment. “One which I’m going to ignore.”

“Excuse me?” Kaz squinted narrowly. He loudly set his pen down as he stared at y/n.

Y/n propped the stuffed crow up against the wall beside Kaz’s bed. “Kaz, you can try and push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere,” she stated as she turned her gaze back to him. “You’re only doing this because you let yourself be slightly vulnerable just now.”

When Kaz said nothing in response, y/n sighed. “I don’t know the details of why…,” she admitted. “But, there’s nothing wrong with things impacting you, Kaz.”

“I’m fine,” Kaz argued defensively.

Y/n huffed. “You’re keeping something from me,” she rebutted.

“Let it go y/l/n,” Kaz ordered.

Y/n hummed and stood up. She walked slowly over to Kaz’s desk. She set her hands down on the opposite edge of his desk as she stared down at him. “You realize there is nothing in this world that you can tell me, that'll ever make me hate, fear, or leave you,” y/n promised.

Kaz shook his head, his jaw tight.

Y/n sensed Kaz was about to argue, so she shrugged. “Sorry if it pisses you off Brekker,” she mused. “But, you're stuck with me, I’m afraid,” Y/n explained. “It's part of the whole friendship and relationship thing. Whatever you go, I go. So even if you try to push me away, I’m still going to be here."

Kaz groaned and rubbed his gloved hands over his face. “I'm not a good guy.” He sighed, lowering his hands back down to the table. “l'm not saying I don't want...this... us,” Kaz rambled vaguely. “And, no matter how defeated and unworthy I am, l'lI keep trying to get to the point I need to be at, to be the one who deserves you,” he vowed quietly. “But, l'm not there yet.”

“I never asked you to do that,” y/n pointed out, leaning forward on Kaz’s desk. “But, regardless, l'm staying with you throughout that. Even if you’re stuck in the mindset that you need to change, as incorrect and biased as that mindset is, I’m going to be there. You don’t need to push me away while you try to work on yourself.”

“I don't now that I'll ever be able to be perfect,” Kaz confessed. “But I’m willing to-,” he began.

“Perfect's never been my type,” y/n hummed, “I prefer morally gray”. She smirked at Kaz’s uncharacteristic blush. “Unless we’re talking looks, then yes, perfect is my type,” y/n flirted with a wink.

Kaz’s flushed cheeks darkened as his eyes widened slightly.

“Which, by the way,” y/n spoke softly. She wanted Kaz to understand that she was serious. “You've already met that detail,” y/n smirked.

“Zenik would disagree given my haircut,” Kaz joked. His knew his cheeks were still crimson, so he stared bashfully at the papers on his desk.

Y/n rolled her eyes. She knew Nina meant it as a playful insult. But, y/n also knew that Kaz’s trauma and correlated haphephobia were the reason for his haircut. He’d not been able to handle the sensation of someone cutting his hair so he’d do it on his own. “I think it looks great,” y/n reassured him, smiling even Kaz looked up from his desk. “But, if it bothers you, I could always don a pair of gloves and try to help,” She proposed. “If you'd like to try that sometime,” y/n added softly to reinforce it wasn’t something she felt she needed to do and that it was only offered for his own benefit.

“You'd do that?” Kaz questioned. His voice carried its usual gravelly nature but was otherwise light.

Y/n grinned as she sat down in the chair across from Kaz. She nodded. “I told you, you're stuck with me Brekker”.

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[splitster]

answering MORE asks!!

featuring: pom wraith au, ✨discovered secrets✨, character motivations and more! check it out! ↓↓

now THAT's a question... it VERY much depends on the story!! it could range from immediately supportive, to shocked confusion, to terrified repulsion-- i've made art for a few different ideas... but ultimately it depends on how close they are (and the circumstances under which she's revealed)

Dingo's loyalties are going to lie with the rescue corps. he's been there for a while, and he's friends with his coworkers. he especially has loyalties towards Yonny and Shepherd (one being his childhood friend, and the other his captain that he's grown to tremendously respect). so if he thinks that his crewmates and his friends are going to be endangered, he'll always side with them first! so hopefully whenever Pom is revealed, he'll realize Pom isn't a threat!!

i think he'd be prone to accepting Pom's secret, especially if they've started becoming friends. maybe she has to protect him out on the field (dumbass tried to show off and it backfired), and she gets hurt in a way that reveals she's not human. maybe Dingo encounters Pom accidentally when she's in her full wraith form, and he's entasked by the rescue corps with monitoring this "Rose Wraith" to make sure it's not a danger to their mission, and at some point he realizes the Rose Wraith and their new recruit are one and the same. there's a lot of possibilities!

they're fun to think about... i do want to pick an idea to flesh out with art or maybe some writing hehe!!

i will admit i've never looked too hard into that particular theory, so it's not something i had or will have in mind when making this au... there's certainly something very mysterious about the planet that neither the crew nor Pom understands. there's a strange connection between the planet PNF404 and the wraiths too!

she can't shrink her core that much, so it'd have to be something that can fit a ball in it. otherwise yeah i guess she could just recreate gmod prop hunt💖

OHOHHOHOHO its funny you ask this, i literally have a comic drafted about this exact scenario

you'll see parts of this in the comic i'm making, but think about it from Pom's perspective: humanoids are really weak, squishy things. they can die from the silliest things! if they get stabbed they'll die, if they hit their head too hard they die, they can't even lose limbs without being at threat of dying. compare that to Pom as a wraith -- the only thing that's fatal to her is her core getting shattered. she's way tougher than the others, and she doesn't have a good frame of reference for what IS fatal to humanoids because they seem to be able to die from anything...

so when Dingo gets hurt out on the field, she'd freak out thinking Dingo is straight up dying. if they're close enough, she'll sacrifice her cover as a regular person and go wraith mode to save him from any further damage. she asks him over and over if he's dying, and when he says no she'll ask if he's lying. she's panicking! when she's dragging him back to the ship and when the adrenaline wears off, she might get teary eyed. she genuinely thought she was about to lose her crewmate... someone she'd started to consider a friend. she's never had anyone to lose before and it's a very scary feeling!

there are a LOT of really good questions here!! i can't fully dive into everything here or else i'd end up writing a novel but i will try!!!

pom is a VERY simple creature at first. i haven't decided on which planet she grew up on -- probably a random civilized colony -- but she grew up on the fringes of society. she's always been an observer and in the background; she's experienced enough to loosely know how to fit in, but a lot of social nuances are lost to her because of her inexperience.

but (unfortunately) there's some shit you have to do if you want to engage in society, one of which is make money. if you want a place to live you gotta make some dough, and through some fortunate coincidences she happens upon the rescue corps recruiting advertisements. one thing leads to another, she ends up training and eventually recruited as a new officer. whoever was supposed to background check her clearly was sleeping on the job, because a simple Space Google would've revealed her listed home planet of Karut to be fake (when they asked where she was from she panicked and said carrot💖)

pom has spent so much of her life simply drifting on the outskirts of a civilization she doesn't belong to. she doesn't realize (until she has friends to lose) that she was very much lonely. when she's on the rescue mission she comes to understand herself and what she wants a lot better, but that also precariously places her right on the edge of tragedy because now there's stakes if her secret is found out

she might be learning more about humans every day, but ultimately they're still a mystery. there are so many nasty potential outcomes if her secret is found out, ranging from being outcasted to a worst case scenario where they attack her or experiment on her indefinitely. she's never had anything to lose before, so now that she does she's terrified of the possibility!

realistically, if pom's secret was found out in the middle of a mission, i think most of them would be concerned but ultimately accepting. their new recruit is just a little gooey, but that's okay! she's still a star officer, and they couldn't execute this rescue without her! (shepherd is terrified of Creatures though so she'd take a while to warm up. yonny however is already chomping at the bit to experiment on her)

however... if they thought wraith pom might've replaced their original recruit, that'd go horribly. imagine being shepherd -- she'd think that the new recruit she spotted at training camp DIED, and was replaced by a gooey abomination at some point during this rescue mission. that's terrifying to think about, they don't know anything at all about what pom is so they might fear the others being picked off and replaced, or any amount of other awful things.

likewise, if they realize wraith pom has a connection to this planet (and to the other wraiths), they might suspect she's trying to tear them apart from the inside. pom is a complete unknown, and that's a scary thing! so ultimately their reactions depend on the circumstances of how she's revealed

thank you!! i already talked a little about everyone else, but captain Olimar is an interesting one. if you consider strictly the canon of pikmin 4, then he would simply be curious. he's never met an alien creature with the same level of sentience as him, and you KNOW he'd be taking writing and taking notes on her lol

however, if you consider a slight deviation from canon where olimar had a run in with the plasm wraith, his reaction would be WAY different. wraiths have a certain unsettling aura to them (it's how wraiths can sense other wraiths nearby), and if olimar spent an extended amount of time around the plasm he probably would've picked up on that sense. the first time he sees pom exposed, even if its just her partial form, that horrible awful sensation would prickle the back of his mind. she feels like the plasm, and that would be terrifying and AWFUL. olimar is a very kind man, but he's not about to subject himself to any more trauma (or endanger the nice rescue corps folk who saved him), so he'd spearhead the effort to contain pom (with the intention of ousting her back whence she came)

THANK YOU!! please hold pom like a hamburger. she'd just stare at you with that blank ass expression

my life long crusade to draw all pikmin characters screaming...

THANK you!! i love those silly cartoon people

PNF-404 is basically like a buffet to her with all the creatures she can eat for biomass. she can control her size but this is a funny thought

"There was a terrible accident with the ships miniatizer... I flipped the m to w and now I'm big...."

oh hi!! uh i've never used fire alpaca, I used Paint Tool Sai for the longest time before switching to Procreate. I also sometimes use clip paint studio but Procreate is my go-to art program!

i could make a FAQ but i don't know what i'd put there HLIHAIERHA i don't have too many frequently asked questions

thank you for reading this far!! i also appreciate everyone sending in asks💖, I try to read all of them even if I can't get to them right away. I'll get through them all... slowly...

[misty--nights]

Onto episode 3 we go now. This one is always rough to watch, for obvious reasons, but I still found some little details I thought were interesting

At the very beginning, when they set up the new office in Crystal’s room, we can see on the table that there are colorful markers and pens, and sticky notes shaped like cats and hearts. Those have to be Niko’s right? I like the idea of her lending them her cute stationary so Edwin wouldn’t have to go mad trying to get Charles to bring the right things from the office. There is also a pig statue on the table. Not sure what that’s about but it also has to be Niko’s

Crystal’s shirt in the beginning says Tongue and Tail. It looks kind of faded, so did Jenny give it to her as a gift? But then, why does Jenny have a shirt with the butcher’s name? Does she sell merch with her shop’s logo for some extra cash? Did someone make it for her as a joke/gift?

Listen, I know for episode 2 I said I didn’t have any other details for the intro, but clearly that was a lie. Charles’ skeleton has his pins on the ribs. As if he stuck them directly to the bone, which is a hilarious thought and somehow really in character

Niko has a “no junk mail” sign taped outside her room. There’s a note taped outside of Crystal’s, too, but I couldn’t read what that one said

I saw someone call the Night Nurse and the Notary bitter exes and you know what? I see it. Love the interaction between those two, and I really wish we had more. Speaking of the Notary, though, she has so many stamps. I get why she needs that many, but it’s kind of funny

The sprites have a specific music that plays whenever they appear, and I love it. But also, last episode I saw that Litty’s skirt and Kingham’s waistcoat are made of the same fabric, and now that they aren’t wearing their sweaters in this episode, I think his pants and her waistcoat also match.

Speaking of the sprites and their clothes, Kingham’s tie pin is some sort of bug. Maybe a moth? It’s cute either way. Honestly, I just really like the way these two dress

Niko’s pillowcase has fish in it, which is small, but very sweet and very Niko

Edwin’s voice when he says “he’s stuck in the loop too” breaks a little, he’s so scared for Charles

You know, it was probably a good thing Charles was no longer with them when they found the dad’s creepy hidden room with the cameras. I think that with the way the case was affecting him, he would have fared well against the misery wraith

And speaking of the wraith, I think it’s interesting that only Crystal seems to be able to hear it. Even when both she and Edwin are in the same room, she’s the only one who hears it. Edwin turns to look because she does

Edwin almost never flinches during the loops. I think he does the first time they see the dad killing the others, but then it’s mostly Charles and Crystal who flinch at the gunshot and the murder

Honestly, props to Edwin for managing to figure out the vhs while trying not to freak out about Charles and the wraith that reminds him of hell Monty’s handwriting is really pretty, and I admire the dedication of drawing that whole chart by hand

[thesoupisburning]

right so you guys ever think about the spectre telling the narrator that hes more similar to her than to a person?

what "her" was she referring to? the fragment we call the spectre? the way he can only be perceived, not perceive himself? the ghost of him, the ghost of her? all of her?

im just. thinking. i always think about spectre. she has. a lot to say that i think is overlooked in favor of more common favorite routes like moment of clarity and the tower, but shes one of my favorites, and shes one of the only ones who SEES the narrator, save for wraith, who is. also her. or nightmare. and she says that hes not really a person. like her.

of course, that makes sense, we think shes a ghost and dead, so she is. but him. is the echo a ghost in the classical sense? is that what she meant? or are there layers?

she says he's not really like a person. what is a person to her? is she comparing the narrator to the "shards of broken glass on the floor" are her interactions with us and the voices the only "person" she knows?

i love love love when this game separates the narrator from us and our voices. i love it so much i think about it daily. props to tower for "layer of grime" that fucks so hard.

i don't have a thesis im just. thinking. how much of the narrator is left. really.

[lamemaster]

The Magician

Request: I feel like it's required for phantom of the opera to be maglor lol! A mask and cloak to hide ears, the light of the Trees,(which could also be why s/o thought of him as an angel!) and his scarred palm. Singing his hauntingly beautiful tragedies into the night, that is where our 'Christine' learned to sing. How very fitting. *Low key inspired by silmapens art of him doing theater*

Pairing(s): Maglor x Reader / (Spoiler) x Reader

Genre: Phantom of the Opera au (hehe)

AN: Fall event yayyyyy~ (Also the way I had half of this thing written before the request is not real. We share the same brain cell anon)

The Shadow, the Wraith—there are many names for the phantom that haunts the halls of Kalis Hala. A sprite whose steps echo at the untimely hours of the night.

Some call him a spirit, others claim he is a man from the East with long, flowing hair, while whispers tell of a doomed elf.

But the theater and its ghost remain inseparable. Entwined in rumors is the Shadow, whose words and music transformed a ramshackle puppet shop into the most esteemed theater in the kingdom.

A legend that holds within it the dreams of hundreds and the tears of thousands. Its backstage hums with the chatter of its artists, its seats brimming with patrons that multiply with each passing day.

Behind the rich, velvety curtains, you stand, clutching a letter. From your confidante, the one whose angelic voice, heard by many, is yet to be linked to a face. The one whose name is engraved on the door of Box Five.

His voice found you in your darkest hour. In the attic of discarded props, you first encountered his mournful notes. And that was how you met him. Ghost to many, the Magician to you.

But tonight, as you prepare to face the crowd for your debut as the lead singer, your heart pounds with uncertainty. In your grasp lies the Magician’s letter—his demands and requirements for tonight’s show.

Your name, written boldly as the lead—a demand that unsettled many. For an unknown nobody from the company to take center stage. Amid the glares and whispers, you murmur his name.

With your eyes closed, you conjure the fleeting image of his flowing black robes of mourning, his nimble fingers wrapped in silken veils, an unchanging presence during your secret meetings. His voice, unlike that of any mortal. His songs that could make you weep, laugh, or slumber at his will.

In the middle of the second act, your eyes find him, and your heart skips a beat.

With renewed fervor, you sing for him, a smile threatening to break across your lips. The rest of the show passes in a blur. As soon as the final note fades, you rush to your changing room, as fast as your feet will carry you.

In the crowded hallway, full of sweaty, euphoric actors, you somehow end up in his arms. You drink in the sight of him as his arms wrap around your waist.

The knight of your dreams.

Tonight, he has decided, tonight will be the night he reveals himself to you—his angel, away from Valinor. The bearer of his songs.

Maglor had watched you perform from the rafters, from the safety of rooms unknown even to the oldest patrons.

Tonight, when the world craves to hold you, he will be the one to claim your time and affection.

And perhaps, in time, you will come to love him—his mask, and beyond. The scars of the Silmaril may yet be healed by the kiss of your lips. You are his salvation.

He waits for you in your changing room, hidden behind the mirror that leads to his secret tunnels. Tonight, you will see him in your reflection.

Barely resisting the urge to claw at his mask, Maglor waits. Any moment now.

From minutes to hours, to the pale sprinkling of dawn, he waits. But you do not come.

His mind races with scenarios—wild, maddening thoughts. Has someone dared lay claim to his prodigy? Did he not make his intentions clear to the patrons?

It isn’t until later that he sees the reason for your absence. The gleaming knight of Rivendell. Once Lord of the House of the Golden Flower—Glorfindel. Seated in the box closest to you, his gaze fixed on you, your careless, fleeting glances in his direction tinkering with your faltering notes.

Your changing room, once overflowing with roses from Maglor, is now invaded by the cheer of the Golden Flower.

With clenched fists, crescent moons imprinted on his palms, Maglor watches as you effortlessly fall into the arms of the golden lord, who tucks back your wayward hair with aching familiarity.

"You must meet him," you prattle cheerfully to the blurred figure of your phantom. "Glorfindel is a friend. A savior. I wouldn't be here—"

Your words die in your throat as an unseen force seizes your lips, silencing you. Panic floods your chest as you look to the Magician. The usual warmth in his presence has been replaced by a chilling cold.

"You skipped four notes tonight," he declares, his voice like ice. "Is this the time for such cheer?" His words echo harshly in the attic.

You stare at him, helpless. It had never crossed your mind that your Magician—the source of your music and song—could wield such cruelty. He had always been your muse, never your fear, despite the rumors that clung to his name.

"Do not succumb to distractions. Stay away from the lordling." His sneer cuts deep, giving you no chance to respond. "Do you understand, my Lark?" he asks, finally releasing the grip he held over your words.

Gasping for air, your gaze meets his, laced with the sting of betrayal. The bond you had so carefully built with the shadow of Kalis Hala now feels fragile, fractured. Beyond the veil, you see him pacing, agitated.

"He is a friend, like you are," you plead, your voice soft. "Glorfindel will cause no harm. He is dear to me." Your words carry the weight of memories—of the time when the elven lord had saved you from the plague that ravaged the village of your birth. "I will not falter again. There will be no err in my music. Not because of him."

"I am the owner of this theater. I am the source of your fame, the music in your words. It would do you well to remember that, my Lark. Do not dismiss my words so willfully." His voice hisses like a venomous snake, fury so intense it feels as though centuries couldn’t contain it.

"Now throw away those jarring yellow flowers and rest for the night," he commands. The rage evaporates, replaced by the familiar tenderness you once knew, leaving you bewildered by the ghost of the opera.

You do not reply. Nor do you offer him reassurance. You will not abandon your friend over an unwarranted tantrum.

That night, you ignore his words for the first time. Leaving the pearls untouched on your dresser, you pull on your shawl and slip into the chilly night, finding yourself on the director’s mare, racing toward the manor on the outskirts of town.

In his arms, you are delightfully human. He can feel the steady rhythm of your heart, and his thumbs trace the warmth of your flushed cheeks. Unbothered by your sweat-slicked brow, Glorfindel presses his forehead gently against yours. "You were marvelous," he whispers, his voice full of elvish delight.

You truly were. Your songs, your voice, the graceful movement of your limbs in perfect sync with the dancers—it was something he would never forget.

Perhaps Lúthien was the fairest elleth to ever walk on Arda, and her dance enchanting enough to lure Beren. But to Glorfindel, you surpassed all legends. He loved you for reasons he couldn’t fully explain.

Why had his reborn heart bound itself to a mere mortal? A woman he had plucked from the very brink of death, whose faint pulse he had nursed back to life.

He loved you because, when everything else in Arda seemed to wither under the corruption of darkness, you lived. You clung to life—and to him.

His thoughts are interrupted by sudden screams. Chaos ripples through the theater, and the sickly sweet smell of death fills the air.

On the stage lies the broken body of a guardsman, crumpled and lifeless. A note is stuffed into his frozen mouth, his face twisted in eternal terror.

Words, elegantly written:

The Elven Lord must return.

The message leaves you pale and trembling in Glorfindel's arms. Your eyes dart around the empty stage, scanning the deserted seats, dread curling at the edges of your mind.

And then as if the familiar sense of dreadful choking returned with the burning gaze of your Magician. His presence- unwavering in the shadows, prowling in on your world.

[drapopia]

quiet night in

pairing: papa emeritus i x reader

warnings/potential triggers: none that i am aware of! i am always willing to add anything to this if someone mentions something!

summary: After a busy day away from one another, the only thing you want is him beside you. And maybe a small nap as well.

author's note: my first ghost fic/drabble! i am a little anxious to share this, to be quite honest. i just want to curl up with this ancient satanic pope (said lovingly)... peemo my love, come close! truly though, i just felt like sharing some soft times with primo, because truly, who doesn't want that? my inbox is always welcome to thoughts!

word count: 1,073

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“Hmm…” You say, leaning in closer to peer over the edge of the paper held firmly in Papas’ hands. “I am clueless, truly.” 

He chuckles, tapping the pencil lazily against the paper. “Think harder, amore. I’m sure we can figure it out if we put ourselves to the task.” 

You sigh, leaning in closer to rest your head in the crook of his arm. You’re perched against his arm, propped up against the smooth silk of his matching maroon pajama set. Your eyes lazily scan the room, thinking to yourself. Primo and you often spent your weeknights poring over the crossword puzzle when you weren’t both exhausted from your daily tasks. When you weren’t posturing back and forth to one another over the possible solution, you were leaning in closer and closer to the warmth of one another.

You sigh once more, your arm reaching out of the warmth of his duvet, fluffed and warmed by Primo as he waited for you to exit your shower earlier. Your hand reaches out to grab his own, inspecting it with a soft smile. The wrinkles on his hands were still golden, although winter had not loosened its grip on the Abbey yet. And still Papa worked his way through the greenhouse, crooning sweet praises to his flowers that thrived in the humid air of the building. His hand closed around yours, pulling it up to his lips and pressing a delicate kiss to the center of your palm. He smiled, his eyes closed as he reclined against the pillows on your shared bed. 

“Have you thought of it yet?” He said softly, making sure not to disturb your leisured slump against his arm. 

You hum, looking over at the paper. “We’re still working on seven down, correct?” 

“Si.” He smiles, pointing delicately with his pencil and tracing over it up and down. “The description is: a shared term for a ghost.” 

“How many words, letters?” You ask curiously.

“One word, seven letters.” He says softly, sinking further in the sheets with a quiet groan. You sit up slightly, wordlessly pulling the blankets closer to him. You thought for a second of getting up to grab the ointment from his bedside table, but you knew it would bring him less comfort than usual. The cold had sunk into his bones, and he would not enjoy the stickiness of the balm on his skin. He had complained occasionally of the balm not sinking into his skin. This gave him an opportunity to purr into your ear of just how well you would rub it in. Sometimes it would end with a giggle and a teasing smack to the arm to scold him, and other times… Well, Primo was a charming man. 

“Lay back down, petal.” He murmured, wrapping his arm around you as you settled back into the sheets. Primo’s arm curled around you, his thumb rubbing small circles into your arm. 

“Do you have any thoughts, Papa?” You asked quietly, looking back down at the crossword. 

“I have a few, but I would like to hear your own first before we discuss.” He chuckles, beginning to tap his pencil against the side of the puzzle once more.

“What about… wraith?” You ask, looking down at the paper and then shaking your head. No, that was only six letters. “No, never mind. Give me a minute.” 

“All the time in the world, amore. Or at least until we drift asleep.” He smiles, letting his head drop slowly to rest on top of your own. Your eyes drift to the room around you. Although you had shared this room for what felt like an eternity, the space still screamed of Papa Emeritus the First. While Terzo and Secondo preferred to boast of luxury and extravagant purchases, Primo liked to let his own taste, refined over decades, speak for itself. The four poster bed obscured the few vintage lamps that sat in the room, casting the room in a cozy, dazed ambiance. 

“Perhaps… it is phantom?” He asked softly, shaking his head after a moment. “It is enough letters, but I’m sure we can come up with something more elegant, no?” He chuckles hoarsely, and you lean up to gaze at him. He was always handsome, dizzyingly gorgeous. The darkened room only seemed to deepen the creases in his face, his crows feet crinkled as he smiled gently to himself in thought. You relax further against him, butterflies in your stomach. His eyes dart downwards, his smile more fond than before. “You’re grinning, does my answer amuse you?” 

“Oh no, but I do agree. We should think of something more fancy, such as…” You think, and then begin to giggle to yourself. “What about ‘ghoulie’, perhaps?” 

He laughs, his chest rumbling against your cheek. “And what is a ghoulie?” 

“Far worse than anything you’ve ever known, Papa, a supernatural being only whispered about by fellow siblings. How unfortunate that you’ve never heard these rumors.” You giggle, a small blush heating your cheeks. 

“Is that so, petal?” He asks, his smile softening in the warm light of his bedroom. “I shall have to look more into these spectres that I seem to have never heard about. Even in all my years, not one whisper.” He chuckles gently. 

You snicker to yourself, your hand gripping his own with care. And then, you understand. You gasp, looking at the paper and raising your hand to tap at the crossword. “Spectre! What about that?” 

He gazes at the paper, his hand rising to push his reading glasses further up his nose. He taps the small boxes going down, counting quietly to himself. His eyes light up, and his hand scribbles in ‘specter’ into the empty box. “Quite right, so smart.” Primo says gently, pressing a delicate kiss against the top of your head. You smile, closing your eyes as you bask in the warmth of his praise. 

“Primo, you’re the one who said it.” You whisper, your eyes still closed as the dark washes over you. The weight of the day is felt on your shoulders, gently melting off in the comforting embrace of your lover. Your arms wrap around him with a small grunt, your cheek against his chest. Vaguely you feel his arms rubbing your shoulder comfortingly, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head once more. What you don’t see is Primo gazing at you, delicately tucking your hair behind your ear with a lovesick sigh, barely discernible amongst your soft breathing as the day winds to an end. 

[sweetearthandnorthernsky]

grey company shenanigans it is! (although hopefully if i'm Productive, I want to do a lil doodle for each of the choices)

since it takes me forever to draw things, i'm putting this out here early lmao. it's going to be sae's birthday in a little over a month!!

[azsazz]

To My Heart

Knox x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Oh my gosh Knox is so adorable he has my heart and the head canon that he writes letters to his mate makes my heart melt

Warnings: None

Word Count: 759

Notes: You guys he’s just so cute 😭

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Knox sighs, head propped on curled fists as he watches the night sky. He’s leaned across the deep stone of his balcony, and as much as seeing the smattering of stars and the bright moon hanging high above him calms the male, he’s buzzing with nerves.

He’s tired, beyond so but he can’t sleep, and won’t until she writes him back.

His mate. The word still makes his heart rush in his chest, and he curls his fingers around the pen he’d been playing with to expel his nervous energy. His book sits open and abandoned on the lounger behind him, sketchbook tossed to the side in frustration because he couldn’t get the curve of her lips just right. Loose papers ruffle in the wind from where they’re pinned under the weight of his supplies, a gentle flutter that reflects the pounding of his heart.

Gods, he must be crazy, he thinks, pushing himself away from the overhang. Knox paces the short distance, stretching his wings as if that might stave off some of the nervous energy zipping through his body. She could be asleep, and for a fleeting moment he thinks he might just run and jump off the balcony to find out for himself. He doesn’t want to scare her away when she hardly knows the truth.

But he’d felt her amusement ringing down the bond as he read his letter. Or he assumed she was reading his letter. She could be doing several things instead; baking those treats she seems to like or maybe she’s also reading, lost in the adventures of her novel, not noticing the letter delivered on a bed of darkness.

His hands have a tremor to them, and he stuffs them into his pockets instead, rolling his eyes when his twin’s voice rings through his mind.

What are you doing? Go to sleep.

I can’t, he sends back, trying not to sound defeated. He doesn’t have an excuse, can’t think of one because he truly is bone tired after the day he’s had, training with his father and uncles this morning until noon before he’d been dragged out with Baz for drinks by the Sidra. That, had turned into his older brother stark naked in the cold waters, flirting with a wraith whose red, hot cheeks could’ve boiled the river dry.

Well, all that thinking is bothering me, she responds, and Knox knows his sister is scowling. It makes his lips twitch into a smile, her banter helping to distract him. And some of us need our beauty sleep.

He snorts. I didn’t know my twin was replaced with Zuz. Tell me sister, no midnight rendezvous? He knows she’s been sneaking out just as much as he has lately, and even though his shadows are shared with his sister and he can talk into her mind, even he doesn’t know where she slinks off to in the late hours of the night.

Not tonight, Malos yawns lazily and he cringes because he hates when she does that in his mind. Now fuck off and go to bed.

Love you too, Mal, Knox says, rolling his eyes once more as he feels the strong, steel shield of her mind slides back into place.

And then Knox is pacing again. Maybe he should go for a fly, the open air always makes him feel better. But if she does write him back then he might miss it and that’s the last thing he wants.

His attention is drawn to a whisper of darkness drifting across the night sky like its own cloud of black. It shrouds the moon as it passes and his heart jumps once, twice. Knox all but snatches the neatly folded paper from the grasp of night. He takes a deep breath and can smell her on it. It makes him shiver, like she’s right there with him, the scent of stardust and sugar invading his senses.

The flourish of her writing makes his heart ache. How delicate the curves of her letters are, how light, so the ink doesn’t seep through the paper, the thought she’d gone through to make it look so perfect for him. He traces the letters of his name idly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he stares, heart calm in his chest as he fingers over the shape of the heart, hastily drawn and still wet, as if she drew it and sent it off before she could change her mind.

Knox takes a deep breath and opens the letter.

[beansprean]

My Familiar’s Ghost part 36

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Tight shot of the attic by an exterior wall. The wall is partially patched with haphazardly placed two by fours, more planks stacked on the floor underneath. On the left, an ornate wooden chair sits by a tall shape covered by a white sheet. On the right is a couch half-covered in a sheet, a standing lamp, an empty picture frame, a snowboard, and several cardboard boxes. The large box in the foreground is labeled '80s crap' and is propped partially open by a lava lamp, a beaded necklace and dancing hula girl sitting on top. Ghost Guillermo is laying on his side in the middle of the floor, head against the 80s crap box, covering his face and moaning like a real ghost. The black wraith energy around him has almost formed and entire cloak and hood shape, still ragged and morphing around the edges. He whines, 'Ohh... that was so embarrassing... What the fuck is wrong with meee... I wanna die!! ...Again...' 1b. Close up on Guillermo as he uncovers his face to glance up at the label on the box. 1c. Repeat. Guillermo tosses his head back in renewed anguish, chin crumbling and hands curling into fists as he wails, 'This is where I belong! I'm 80s crap!!'

2a. Reverse shot of the other side of the attic, showing the stairs coming up in the far corner. On the right, (further to Guillermo's left) is a Wii Fit, a small box labeled '2000', a mannequin torso, a wooden trunk, and a tall cardboard box labeled 'fish tank, upside down. On the left is a support beam, covered canvasses, and a rolled-up rug. Nandor appears at the top of the stairs as if having crawled up them as quietly as possible, leaning in with one hand on the attic floor and the other clutching the banister. He is wearing knee high leather boots and a white robe monogrammed with the Monaco Hotel and Casino logo and has his hair wrapped up in a towel turban. He asks, with some confusion and concern, 'You are what?' In the bottom corner of the foreground, Guillermo's head pops up in shock. 2b. Reverse shot over Nandor's shoulder. Guillermo immediately snaps 'Nope' and voops into a glowing blue vapor, pouring himself into the dancing hula girl nearby. 2c. Reverse shot, wider version of 2a showing the entire left side of the attic and stairs. Nandor marches fully up the stairs and into the room towards Guillermo, fists swinging at his sides to steel his nerves. He announces, 'Guillermo, it is very childish to possess a sexy dancing hula lady when I am trying to speak with you!' In the bottom corner of the foreground, Guillermo-as-hula-girl turns around with a scowl, fists clenched, and mutters angrily 'I swear to... The one time I was counting on him to avoid a conversation...' /end ID