darkwavedreams

[darkwavedreams]

"I think it's finally my year, Henderson..."

@he11fireclubtm - An independent canon divergent portrayal of Eddie Munson from Netflix's Stranger Things. Treated as an original character and no longer shackled to Stranger Things. Features verses based off Stranger Things and turned more into my own. ST blogs are welcome and will do ST based threads. Verses for ST available but they are canon divergent.

A study in: not running away, found family, being the black sheep of the group, becoming a hero.

[darkwavedreams]

i wanna use tracy phillips as the fc for one of my new ocs but she doesn't really have any rp resources :/

[darkwavedreams]

Like a Prayer, 1989

[darkwavedreams]

"he sings like the world is ending. maybe it is. every note he pulls from his chest feels like a secret he meant to keep. every word... meant for me, never spoken aloud. he doesn’t look at me when I dance. not really. but I feel him. he speaks of temptation. i am temptation. and the cruelest part is:i love him more than he’ll ever allow himself to love me back.…but I’ll still keep dancing.just for him."

SHOULD I KEEP GOING??? IS THIS SOMETHING Y'ALL WOULD LIKE OR??????

[darkwavedreams]

"you dance like you're trying to kill me." "maybe i am."

[darkwavedreams]

what if i just... used myself as a fc

[darkwavedreams]

the worst part of rp is when you literally cannot find a fc that fits your ocs because hollyweird doesn't cast people who look like that :(

[darkwavedreams]

hello yes hi, my mind is erupting with fresh inspiration and i'm feeling super super super creative so i'm going to create a whole cinematic multiverse of band inspired muses. high fashion, high drama, rich lore and theatricality. entire concept characters for different bands/albums etc. AND I'M REALLY EXCITED ABOUT IT.

we've already got persephona veil here, but none of you are ready for...

sepulchra / sanguina (still deciding)

neon venus.exe

electra syntheia

violette (no last name)

stella bellevue

[darkwavedreams]

i'm a slut for forbidden romance let shelley have it

[darkwavedreams]

❝ you can ask me anything you want. i promise i'll answer truthfully except the things i feel like lying about. ❞

for muses that are getting to know each other / accepting !

"sounds fair enough to me," shelley smirks in a singsong voice with a thoughtful pause, flipping through the zine she couldn't keep her black polish manicured and multi-braceleted hands off of. "who's your biggest music crush? like, if you could date anyone in your favorite-favorite band... who would it be? i'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," she teases, eyes glittering with curiosity like sea glass in the moonlight. being in the music scene as persephona veil meant sharing the same orbit as a lot of people who inspired her, and she secretly loved a little offstage girly gossip. "let's see if we have the same taste."

[darkwavedreams]

shelley turns a little more toward lorraine, her knees folding beneath her on the bench. her sea-glass eyes shimmer in the low light, the kind of glimmer that could be mistaken for charm but is, in truth, a flicker of feeling too much and holding it with care.

“you do have that kind of grace,” she muses, a ghost of a smile teasing at the corners of her lips. “like one of those tragic heroines from a painting. the kind that stays with you after you leave the gallery.” there’s no irony in her voice. she means it. shelley always means it when she says beautiful things. at lorraine’s confession, her expression softens even more. she presses her hand briefly to her heart—her version of saying i feel that without interrupting.

“i’m sorry you know that feeling too.” a beat. “and i’m sorry people think we should just be grateful for what we have, instead of letting ourselves admit it’s hurting us. like if we can walk, talk, smile… it must mean everything’s fine. but sometimes i feel like i’m standing in a burning house and everyone’s just complimenting the wallpaper.” her voice stays quiet, tender, but there’s a flicker of sharpness beneath it—the bite shelley keeps holstered for moments when it matters.

“i think about disappearing too. but not forever. just long enough to remember who i was before the noise got so loud. before people started naming me things i never chose to be.” she glances over at lorraine, then down at the space between them. too often, she daydreams about what her life would be like. the freedom. the softness of not being constantly scrutinized, kept in line, whipped into shape, silenced. never being snapped or screamed at by someone whose sole purpose seemed to be to control her every move. no more shame for loving. no more sparkling light of passion in her eyes going out, or doing silly l ittle dances on emotional broken glass just to avoid punishment. wearing what she actually wants and feeling good about it. but for now, she can only dream. “if you ever do run,” she says gently, “i hope it’s toward something. not just away. i hope it’s to a place where you’re allowed to feel soft and weird and tired and still be loved for it.” a small smile. “and if you don’t run tonight, we can disappear for a little while together. just… vanish into the background. like we were never here. just two ghosts under the streetlight.”

Lorraine nodded,” yep I had a long ass tiring day…ballet is fun and all, but I’m tired. Constantly,” she stated with a sight. However, when she mentioned her being a tragic fairytale character her eyes slightly widened.

“That is honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she stated softly with a slight chuckle. The young woman definitely fitted that category, but those were also her favorite type of fictional characters in general so being compared or one was a big time compliment. Even if it would be a weird one to most.

“And hey I may look put together on the outside, but I am 1000% a mess on the inside,” she added as she turned to face her better from where she was sitting. However, when the other young woman mentioned getting into a fight with her mother and it being unpleasant Lorraine immediately was sympathetic towards her. She knew damn well what that was like before her own mother passed away years prior.

“I’m sorry about that….I promise ya I do understand. My mother and I…had a difficult relationship to put it lightly,” she stated in a softer yet more serious expression.

“And I’m glad I bumped into you too…it’s rare you meet someone chill here and to answer your question….yes. I want to disappear more times than not,” she admitted softly with a sad smile. Lorraine felt this so much especially sense she was currently stuck not just in her normal routine, but also the fact she was married to someone who wasn’t the best to her. To put it lightly,

“Often I think of running away you know?” She added with a soft yet sad smile.

[darkwavedreams]

her smile doesn’t fade—it deepens. not the shy kind, or the polite kind. no, this one is full of teeth. one brow lifts in amusement, lashes still low. “oh, so i’m special?” she teases, fingers drumming lightly along the back of the chair like a rhythm only she can hear. “you don’t fall for just anyone who breaks the rules and bleeds pretty, huh?”

her eyes glint, playful and unafraid. “enthusiasm, though? really?” she sighs, dramatic. “i was going for ‘enigmatic seductress with a tragic past,’ but fine. if i’m your bright-eyed doomed heroine, so be it. at least let me be the one who leaves lipstick prints on the mirror before she vanishes.”

a pause, soft and sharp at once. “besides... i like cursed.” she leans forward just slightly, like a secret’s about to spill. “it means there was magic. and magic always leaves a scar.” she lingers there for a breath, her perfume sweet and a little dark—violets and ozone. “so,” she adds, lips curving, “am i on the list yet, or do i have to kiss you like i mean it first?”

𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐂𝐇, an easy smile on his face as slit pupils dilate with vague intrigue. Far be it for him to be interested in a human, but it isn't like it's the first time. He fell madly in love with Ellen after all. Unlike his ilk, he recognises the inherent value in creatures different from himself.

If he truly looked down on humans, he wouldn't be so interested in claiming their territory. You couldn't pay him to conquer D-12.

❝ My list? ❞ he purrs, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat as he leans back on his heels. For a moment, it looks as if he's going to tip too far and fall, though he's quick to catch himself with a comfortable chair that very distinctly wasn't there before. Silky hair falls down his shoulders in tantalising, all too perfect sheets. ❝ You don't want to be on there, child. Everyone's either cursed or dead. Your enthusiasm enthralls, though. Keep honing that and you'll be able to convince most infernals to do business with you. ❞

❝ You display some... interesting extracurriculars, ❞ Paimon says pointedly with a tilt of his head, elegant fingers steepling in his lap. He's keen to know more about that uncanny ability to read thoughts. ❝ Natural? Or have you already dipped your toes into the world of magic? ❞

[darkwavedreams]

freeze. don't react. don't react. fake interest. smile. say something enthusiastic. dress for survival. stay small. dance on eggshells. perform. perform. perform. hush. don't provoke. don't react. quiet. know the correct answer. know the correct facial expression. smile even when your eyes glaze over. say "okay" when you want to scream. don't flinch. be prepared for a pop quiz at anytime. eggshells. eggshells. eggshells. any slight misstep and you'll bleed. find the perfect cadence. perfect pitch. tone. emotion. words. microexpression. fake it if you have to. intuit what they want to hear and parrot it back to them to stay safe. don't feel. don't show emotion. don't receive warmth. don't accept love - it's not safe. stay safe.

a diary entry on how to survive karen

[darkwavedreams]

for muses that are getting to know each other

❝ what's your favorite color and why? ❞

❝ can i come with you? ❞

❝ you have a nice smile, has anyone ever told you that before? ❞

❝ how do you take your coffee? ❞

❝ sorry, what was your name again? ❞

❝ it just occurred to me i never asked you what your last name is. ❞

❝ actually we've met before. ❞

❝ i've heard a few things about you. ❞

❝ care to join me? ❞

❝ i'm not really sure why i trust you. ❞

❝ i don't usually talk this much, it just feels easy to say stuff when you're listening. ❞

❝ i know we don't know each other that well but if you wanna talk about it... ❞

❝ could you help me with something? ❞

❝ do you like it here? ❞

❝ are you new around here? ❞

❝ you can ask me anything you want. i promise i'll answer truthfully except the things i feel like lying about. ❞

❝ i don't mean to be too forward, you just seem like you could use a friend right now. ❞

❝ you can come with me. i mean if you don't have anyone waiting for you. ❞

❝ we're friends now. you can ask me for help. ❞

❝ do you like this music? i can change it. ❞

❝ what are your favorite snacks? ❞

❝ really? i wouldn't have guessed that about you. ❞

❝ do you mind if i ask about it? ❞

ACTIONS:

VISIT: for sender to go to receiver's home for the first time

VISITED: for receiver to go to sender's home for the first time

CRYING: for sender to see receiver cry for the first time

CRIED: for receiver to see sender cry for the first time

BEGIN: sender and receiver are on their first date together

TRIP: our muses go on a group trip but end up stuck together, away from the rest of their friends.

SITUATION: our muses are acquainted because one of them is their friend's roommate. muse a shows up when their friend isn't there and ends up hanging out with muse b one on one.

GO: our muses go to a zoo or theme park together and get lost.

INVITE: sender cooks for receiver for the first time

INVITED: receiver cooks for sender for the first time

TOGETHER: our muses spend the night for the first time

TRY: our muses hooked up and are hanging out the next day

COMFORT: sender is going through a break up and receiver offers to cheer them up

COMFORTED: receiver is going through a break up and sender offers to cheer them up

OFFER: sender gives receiver a ride to the airport/picks them up

OFERED: receiver gives sender a ride to the airport/picks them up

AID: sender helps receiver redecorate

AIDING: receiver helps sender redecorate

[darkwavedreams]

get to know me abc edition

a . age: 30!

b . birthplace: garden grove, california.

c . current time: 9:54 AM

d . drink you had last: san pellegrino sparkling water.

f . favourite current song(s):

i'm not okay (i promise) - my chemical romance kiss kiss bang bang - specimen personal jesus - depeche mode peek a boo - siouxsie and the banshees miss murder - afi the entire cexcells album by blaqk audio tbh i drove all night - cyndi lauper

e . easiest person(s) to talk to: elena and lakshi, my best internet friends and people i've known in the rpc for years <3 but really i'm a yapper and an open book so it's easy for me to talk to anyone, not everyone is comfortable talking that much to me though. i'm an internet social butterfly

g . goals: travel to italy, see AFI and blaqk audio in concert, have my dream wardrobe, find a husband, become a mom, get some cats, travel, write some fiction and poetry books, screenwrite (and hopefully direct/produce) a movie

h . horror yes or horror no: horror eh depends. i don't care for slashers or super violent murder movies but i do love the paranormal spooky demons and haunting type movies !

i . in love?: with musicians and actors lol

j . jealous of people: i have my petty little sparks of envy sometimes but i don't let it consume my life. i was at a point where i was constantly jealous of someone who gatekept and made me feel like an outsider in my own life but i cut them out of my life and i feel so much better now.

k . killed someone: no

l . love at first sight or should i walk by again?: lmfao i had a shirt that said that once

m . middle name: ann

n . number of siblings: none

o . one wish: freedom

q . questions you’re always asked: are you an only child ://// yes bitch sorry if my autistic weirdness is showing

s . song you last sang: i never told you what i do for a living - my chemical romance

t . top 3 fictional characters: rose de witt bukater, lydia martin,

u . inexperienced or experienced writer: experienced in the sense i've been roleplaying since i was nine years old ( i had no fucking business, actually lmao ) but inexperienced in the sense i've never written anything professional.

v . vacation: usually i find stuff to do in LA or san diego, i'd like to go to the hotel del coronado this summer

w . when’s your birthday: july 31st!

x . x - rays: i slipped on a wet floor in von's one time and had a contusion on my foot

y . your favourite food/cuisine: ITALIAN. pizza, pasta. spumoni. garlic bread. italy has the best food, hands down.

z . zodiac sign: leo!!!! it's my szn <3

tagged by: no one, i stole it!

tagging: whoever sees this <3

[darkwavedreams]

shelley has an enemy at one of the underground clubs in the goth scene, one similar to the coven. they're known simply as "noir", a male bodied but nonbinary DJ who is fashionably and aesthetically inspired by julian sanders. in fact, their whole lifestyle is built around getting close to julian... except they become the darling of venin.

they don’t just frequent it—they haunt it. venin is curated, theatrical, expensive without ever being obvious. it smells like powdered roses and cold metal. there’s always fog, but it’s not for obscuring—it’s for framing silhouettes.

noir drifts through like perfume. they don’t dance. they lean. they smirk. they occasionally take the mic for a spoken-word moment or whisper vocals into someone else's set. they’re known here. revered. untouchable.

their corner table has a velvet booth and gold-rimmed absinthe glasses. the bartender knows their order without asking. people watch when they walk in—not because they’re loud, but because they are the mood board.

and if shelley shows up?

the entire room vibrates like someone just broke the mirror.

noir has been playing the powerful, ethereal, untouchable role this whole time—but Shelley begins to see through the veil. The obsession, the positioning, the performative control—it’s all built around julian.

noir doesn't orbit the scene. Noir orbits Julian.

they’ve crafted an entire persona to be near him. every post, every look, every carefully “accidental” moment… all of it curated to stay close to him in the spotlight. the kiss? calculated. the tension with shelley? deflective. because noir was never the rival. noir was the fan who got too good at pretending they weren’t.

and now?

they’ve become the darling of Venin. the crowd noir pretended to float above now feeds them. admires them. lifts them up. noir can’t leave it—even if julian isn’t watching anymore.

they’ve won the audience and lost the point.

meanwhile shelley—who genuinely wasn't playing a long game—becomes the actual threat. not because she tried to take julian, but because she didn’t need him to be iconic.

noir curates their identity like a performance art piece, and Venin is their sanctuary, their temple, their stage. shelley showing up there—and stealing gravity without even trying—is unforgivable. shelley didn’t just enter a space. she broke an illusion noir was selling.

and noir? they can't risk that.

so of course they tried to have her removed. not overtly—never that blunt. they slipped something to the door staff. played up that shelley was “starting drama.” or that she was “spiraling again.” maybe said she was there to confront julian (or a member of nightshade). something ambiguous, emotionally manipulative, framed as concern.

but shelley? she just walked in anyway—radiant, unbothered, flawless. the staff liked her. the scene recognized her. she didn’t need permission.

and that’s when noir realized: they’d lost the one thing they thought they owned—the gaze.

shelley doesn’t just show up beautiful—she shows up strategic.

she’s not scheming. she’s anchoring herself. because if noir wants to gatekeep Venin with passive aggression and whisper-campaigns, then shelley is going to build a court. a velvet-lined, stiletto-wielding alliance of femmes and theys who see through the façade and are tired of noir’s quiet tyranny.

she doesn't need them to fight for her. she just needs them to stand beside her. and once they do? noir’s whole aura of dominance fractures.

it starts small. one compliment in the bathroom line. a lighter offered. a wink exchanged over the bass drop. a mutual repost. a comment like:

“you looked like a whole cathedral last night.”

and it spreads.

now rosa from Milk and Ether greets shelley with cheek kisses. steph, the makeup artist who once worshipped noir, starts doing touch-ups for shelley’s shoots. dolly calls her “saint shelley” half-jokingly and gives her a custom tattoo. it glitters like protective magic.

they laugh together in the bar. they pose with her on nights out. they know who tried to exile her and they chose her anyway. a full court of dark femmes and dangerous angels, each with their own style of soft ferocity. shelley doesn’t just gain followers—she builds a coven within the scene. allies who’ve all had to weather a noir at some point. they don’t just back Shelley because she’s powerful—they back her because she doesn’t pretend to be nice when she’s bleeding. there's also violette and candie who fix each other's outfits in the girls' bathrooms and take the best photos. one is the instigator who's not afraid to sass noir if they push shelley in public, says the most outrageous things so shelley doesn't have to, another keeps all the receipts. together, they're the velvet firewall.

noir is a brat in studs and pvc, a diva who turned every room into a stage and started believing their own mythology. they were once magnetic—maybe even inspiring—but now they’re just loud in the wrong key. their seduction curdled into entitlement.

and shelley? oh, she fucking hates them.

not in the petty way. not jealousy. not heartbreak.

It's earned.

shelley hates them because they twist vulnerability into theater and call it honesty. because they tried to sabotage her under the guise of being "above it." because noir plays victim and villain depending on who’s looking. and shelley has had to bite her tongue so many times it should be bleeding glitter.

but shelley also knows the stakes.

she’s being watched too now—admired, quoted, expected to rise above. she has clout. influence. an audience. peers, connections. she can’t be messy. she can’t be dramatic. she can’t burn the building down just because someone else lit a candle too close to her dress.

so she keeps her cool. she keeps it pretty. she keeps it lethal.

[darkwavedreams]

ENTER NOIR

shelley met noir under low lighting and velvet sound. they didn't clash—not at first. it was quieter than that. a smile here. a compliment too well-worded. an offer to share the mirror. and then a shift.

noir didn’t hate her. they saw her. and somewhere in that seeing, they decided shelley was competition. not loud, not public. just subtle, strategic. a kiss delivered like a curse. a photo timed to humiliate. a silence that meant something.

shelley, to her credit, didn’t bite back. she let the performance breathe. and when she rose again—draped in black, sparks of neon pink and velvet and full of flame— noir flinched, even if they smiled through it.

now there’s a cold war with glittering teeth. shared circles. shared silence. eyes that lock across a room and say, “i see you. i survived you.”

noir is mythic and manipulative and wears mystery like couture. but shelley’s not afraid. not anymore.

she doesn't need to win.

she just needs to outlive the performance.

NOIR AS SHELLEY SEES THEM

noir is the kind of person who arrives before the lighting gets moody and somehow makes you feel late. they dress like they’re always going somewhere holier. they speak in sentences that sound like seduction but end in riddles. their presence is curated. not artificial—preserved. there’s something in them that feels… aged. salted. thin-sliced and glistening, like they were born to be looked at but not held. you admire them the way you admire something expensive in a glass case. you’re not sure if you’re allowed to touch. you’re not sure if you want to. shelley tried to be kind. she was. she didn’t realize noir had already written her as a rival. now? it’s complicated. not loud. just sharp. there’s a heated, psychic tension every time they share a room. perfume and glances and unsaid things. noir is beautiful. but so is frostbite.