#CRUCIFIX band

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"SEARCHING FOR THE SUN IN THIS FUCKING DIRTY WORLD!"

NOTE: Never seen this one before, and I doubt they ever returned to Texas before their breakup in '84.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on 3/4 of SF peace punk/hardcore/D-beat band CRUCIFIX (Matt, Sothira, & Drew), performing live at Club Foot in Austin, TX, USA, c. 1983. 📸: Pat Blashill.

Source: www.picuki.com/media/3441296525752028039.

[sages-of-hell]

save me new grucifix design….. new grucifix design save me..

[fisheito]

i feel no particular way about this

[zombocomme]

And Now, Ministry📺TV presents.

Featuring @frjimdefroque and @ask-miasma-ghoul in

RBRG/ FRJD and AMG:

✨️🧣🚪🥀Combiverse🪻🪞☔️✨️

Spin off Episode: Part 2

Between The Lines, Episode 7 PART 2 of: “So help you god…you're set free”

Enjoy

🔞NFW: MDNI🔞 :

⚠️Rated-R: (Mature themes TW)⚠️ *mentions death and dead bodies, bugs, gore and frontier diseases and graphic violence, guns, religious interpretation of trauma, consumption of body and blood, allusions to murder/self and description macabre, and ghosts of the espooky kind.

Jumpscares.

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” KJV- Mathew 25:37-40

Please, interact with us, our music cues will be highlighted for your convenience

That Night plays:

“These are all names and dates, think it’s a list of some kind?” Miasma said, almost rhetorically though with the uncanny feeling he had, it didn't take Jim long to take a wary breath, “I’ve seen things like that. Old family bibles in the day was how they kept genealogy. When people were born, when they died.” the cloud behind his eyes thinned and it only appeared that the powers within were vague at best. The thrum of the threads connected to the preacher man dulled, like miniscule strands of “touch nothing” silkworms… Jim’s face hardened. There was a change in the air. While miasma seemed more shaken now, Jim felt something almost familiar touch his mind. A feather-light breath that made his breathing more shallow. 

Perhaps it was seeing the bible laid out like he had seen others before, the familiarity a comfort, or perhaps it was something  else entirely… something pretending to b e safe, and eagerly waiting to come forward like a confession of a madman, a wagging tongue whos voice tells not lies, but the horrible truths of man’s behavior to deconstruct themselves, and yet preserve the carnage in time…

“I’ve seen that before too but not like this… all these names have single dates, and the last names don’t match one another.. Doesn’t genealogy in that time usually utilize family bibles?” Miasma asked, holding the book towards Jim.

“Hm…that is odd.” Jim muttered, leaning in to look at the Bible in Miasma’s hands. “I see it. All from December to February… 20 names” Jim said, counting the lines of writing. The ink had long been dried but in the strange gathered darkness around them, he could have sworn the ink was still, *wet*.

Miasma swallowed, chuffing the air a moment before he read the first name. 

“Jeremy Bridger, 7 December 1835…Diego Rivera, 12 December…”

The air was heavier, every name seeming to bear down on them as if figures were just out of sight in the darkened peripheral view of the pairs of eyes reading the list in the room. 

“I don’t know that these people are haunting that stone. But there is something strange about it. 

December 16…Armand Avalo

December 21…Mathias Jones

December 26…”Andrew Washington” “A day after Christmas…as if…”

January 1st…Ezekiel Smith “The bad luck of someone to have died on New year’s day, the year 1836”

January 6… Thomas Spencer, “and another on Epiphany, something…something…”

January 12…Peter Shaw ”Half a dozen on the twelfth, and look, another multiple of three”

January 15… Edward Greene

January 18…Joseph Oswald

Then January 21…Ethan Clearwater, ”three days apart, twice, three dead yet again.”

January 23…Samuel Owens, “and then a 6 once more”, “and so close together” 

January 27…Peter Halloway

January31… Cornelius Lovett

March 3…”Morgan Webster and Jesse Burkhalter. “

[Approaching the House Plays: musical jumpscare warning, 

perhaps turn down the headphones]

Jim moved to take the book, Miasma handing it to him carefully, when a creak behind the pair made them whirl to see the door slamming shut behind them with a bang, plunging the room into the dim light of something darker, the clawing sounds all around them and banging on the walls bade the boards shift and shake. Jim jumped and held onto Miasmas arm, Miasma turning his head, his eye straining, darting around him around him. Then from ahead of them they heard what sounded like heavy boots rushing at them head on, and though they gasped and spun round, nothing was staring back. As the windows rattled and the smell of smoke permeated the air, though it grew impossibly colder.

Jim clutched at the bible, his voice tense, praying aloud in fear

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

Bang, Bang, BANG!

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

The walls trembled and an acrid smell, like death and hate flared in their nostrils

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Pounding all around! Scratching sounds all around them like animals, no, like people, clawing at the floorboards, vibrating like teeth grinding screeches, shuddering under their knees

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: 

BANG BANG, CRASH

A window shattered. Then another. object were flying around, gunsmoke and flashes blinded the vision of the space

thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Ice frosted around them, making their lungs burn and their eyes clench shut, death invading their mouths, a sickeningly sweet taste like maggot spoiled fruit

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: 

The desk flew across the room, skidding across the floorboards, catching on a lift and flipping over

CRASH

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Hellish wailing and crying surrounded them as the cacophony reached its pinnacle 

Miasma felt the voices rage in his head, kneeling he clutched at his horns his screams mirroring the agony around them as the stampede of feet seemed to rush from every direction, bearing down on them!

 “Miasma!” Jim called out, dropping beside him, throwing his arms over him, barely able to hear his own voice above the hellish brigade surrounding them,

“Fight it, Fight it!” Miasma Shook as the foul smell of rotten flesh rose from the floorboards around them, and from the corner a rattling splinter blasted from the ground, a rotten hand clawing from the infernal green fire below, glowing through the cracks in the boards below.

“Stop! Make it Stop! Please God, make it stop!” Miasma screeched his head feeling like it would explode like a rotted watermelon, spewing. Jim’s eyes widened as the bloated corpse rose from hell itself it seemed, its eyes cold and dead, a murderous glare in its face, followed by two more skeletal figures. 

The Door slammed over and over like a hurricane on a screen. Blasting up from the cold hearth two more skeletons groaned and crawled towards them, the bone jangles rattling like that of infected breath, the unmistakable sweet putrescence of something beyond what evil could be.

“Miasma fight it, please!” Jim panted, feeling the bone chilling clasp of bony fingers wrapping around his ankle!

Jim kicked the severed hand away, the figures still shambling toward them, with no mistake that they wanted the living that had invaded their prison of malice and content, dead as doornails.

If it bleeds it can be killed, but what would one make of the threat looming, death literally all around them, closing in, the walls spattering black blood at their faces.

Jim knew, it was the end. Surely… Jim looked at Miasma, whos eye met his pleading in fear and absolute wretchedness, the torture of brokeness and the sins of Judas  like blood on his hands. Jim felt tears well in his eyes. He dropped the bible between them and pulled Miasma closer, wrapping his  hand around the cold metal of the crucifix hanging on Miasma’s neck.

*Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.*

The figures were closing in

*Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.*

The room shook and the desk rattled, the door slamming and the wailing around them rising like a chorus

Jim’s eyes pleaded. Miasma looked back and shivered, as he too realized, this was the end. 

*Give us this day our daily bread.*

They both said together. Miasma’s hand wrapping around Jim's, claws digging deep, drawing blood that Jim didn’t feel as he pressed his forehead into Miasma’s

*And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.*

Hands Grabbed them, blood soaked them, splinters pierced them

* And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: *

They said, clutching the cross, holding each other, bracing for the ultimate, for The End

*For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever.  Amen.*

And suddenly it was quiet…

the only sound, the panting between them…

Miasma trembled, afraid to open his eyes.

[Go Tomorrow plays:] 

Jim Looked down, the bible between them, flecked with the blood from his hand. And then around him. The broken windows were miraculously, whole. 

The floorboards as they had been left near 200 years before no hellfire in sight. 

The figures as if they never were. 

The door, still open as they had left it, the impossibly cold air still blowing gently through it.. 

Like nothing had happened except…the desk remained on its side across from them, the glasses on it on the floor, cracked. 

A strange light from the window cast over the fractured lenses, a hole in the center of one, like an eye forever looking beyond into that valley of death. The glasses suddenly with a soft skip, flew towards them, upending on the same lift in the floorboard the desk had tripped on.

Jim squeezed Miasma’s hand. 

Miasma let go, gasping at the damage his claws had done, he wanted to apologize profusely but before he could, Jim had crawled towards the glasses. Following the gaze of its broken eye, to that floorboard. With a grunt he pulled at it. “Help me” He whispered. Miasma started, and crawled forward quickly, and together they lifted the plank. Beneath it. A red leather-bound book. Untouched by time, though it smelled like kerosene.

Jim gingerly lifted the book, and opened it. “A Diary?” he said curiously.

Miasma backed away, still horrified at the events and the hurt he had caused as he watched the blood trickle down Jim's arm, though Jim didn’t notice. He panted and grabbed the bible from the floor, holding it to his chest like a lifeline, trembling.

Jim knelt on the ground and opened to a page, the milky white cloud in his eyes thin, yet, still there.

Inside was a photograph. Old and yellowed with time. Jim held  it out for Miasma to take. A little braver now that the bible was in his arms, Miasma reached gingerly for the piece, his claws gently this time.

“There's thirty people in this photo…why only fifteen names?” Miasma said, opening the bible to the page with names and dates. The ink looked wet and he looked at the photograph, trying to guess what name belonged to what face? The older man? The young boy, barely 15 he would say, even what looked like a leader, his first and second, a physician… and a priest…

the names in the bible making him wonder the mystery. Jim pulled the diary open from the beginning skimming the pages for something.. Something familiar he had seen when he had examined the bible…

Take Her Down plays:

* “Collin Fortworth was a boy too young to be on this trip, it's nothing I've seen to allow a boy, not even twelve, to accompany a band of rugged men like we. but providence placed him in our laps and in our company. A runaway from a mother and father who could be dead for all we knew, the boy was so slight of frame he coulda been used as a hat rack…I had him doing some wood chop. Damn snake didn’t even rattle his direction… The hand swole the size of a lemon and Dr. Anderson didn’t say much other than to get Father Vanhassel to the bunks. Poor lad passed at 11:30 that night. Had I not sent him on something else. Of course there would be snakes cooling in the wood piles. Fucking June. I could have brought him with me back to the fort but my pride wouldn't let a boy that age on my horse. I thought him a young man now. Strapping, earning his keep like decent folk should. Time for him to ride his own damned horse. Well, all I can say is, sorry kid. I shoulda just let you climb on.”*

Jim looked up at Miasma who tilted his head. The young boy on the side, a serious face despite his youthful features. “Poison at the Wood Pile” Miasma said, as if naming the title of a tale. And it seemed that way as Jim looked farther through, flipping a few pages, 

*“Benjamin Smith was a mean, damned, drunk and has been sent to the stockade on more than one occasion for his ill affected manners. He damn well knows, and he leant over that side-rail yonder… and under the logs he goes… floating down that river.  It had been two days, maybe more, who knows how water distorts the features, when eh was found. My what the nipping of fish and birds had done, little pieces plucked away, as if shy, and wont be missed. He was lucky those were all that got to him, else he wouldn't have a Christian burial. Imagine the missing limbs thrown around by the wild animals of the hunting variety. Hunter or not, the end was the same really. Someone lived. And someone died. It just so happened the man had accidentally crushed himself tween the  logs and the river. Well, adios Benny boy, you always were a shit worker.”*

Jim blinked, almost shocked. Miasma covered his mouth, clearly seeing the face of a man, who wasn't even looking at the camera, eyes off to the side looking somewhere else, leaning slightly out of frame. Yes. a drunk man…

“Drinking on the job, for work like they were doin’, Christ that is so dangerous.” Jim said, shaking his head. His own experience with addiction differed, but it was enough in common that he could almost imagine himself, high as a kite somewhere, falling to some death. It could have been him…and it made him change the page all the faster.

*“Bryan Taylor, Isaac Allen…black measles…the strongest of men, though what they did on watch, when they were assigned the vantage point together, alone… It wasn’t coyotes, wolves, birds, or anything else having a high falooting fuck up on the ridge. Of course it does seem fitting, they died the same day. I’ve never known two men to be closer, more brave. And hard working. Putting them together is like putting the apple in apple pie. It just fits. They just fit. Was no business of any man or mine, I was heartbroken to see those good men go softly into the night.”*

Jim furrowed his brow. 

Miasma glanced at Jim before looking away, a blush in his cheeks. 

He looked at the photograph. 

Two men noticeably similar in the style of their hats, a bit jauntily set for a photo, despite everyone appearing worn and weathered as if they just came from the job for the company photo. And yet, the two men had distinguished themselves in appearance. And in the photo, one had an arm around the other's shoulder, leaning inward. And the other man’s hand sneaked around his lover’s waist. It could have been a speck on the photo but Miasma knew… and he felt his heart twinge, seeing the lives of such fine people, brought to an end too soon. It wasn’t fair was it…

And he couldn't help but then feel the guilt and shame…for what he had done to the Emeritus brothers. How unfairly they had been cast to the ground. Dethroned. Even beheaded…

He clutched the crucifix at his neck tighter, as if the pain of the metal digging into his palm  would punish him, an outward penance of paying for his deeds. 

Jim skimmed a long time through the pages, looking for names or dates correlating to the bible Miasma let fall from his lap.

I Want to Wake up So Badly plays:

Jim tilted his head, 

*“Hans Olsen… shot once…quick and easy. Easier than he woulda had it had we left him to suffer. It was right. Even though he wasn't’; being weak in the head, delirium setting in. I've seen this suffering on an old blue tick I had as a boy, varmit it chased and bit his face and it took too long for that miserable dog to die. I vowed I'd never let no creature suffer such a fate. I never would let any man suffer it. Not even my enemies. Hell is enough. Hell on earth, well, ain’t no need for it when the reaper comes rapping on your door. Lord have mercy on me. It was the right thing to do. By God and country.”*

Jim shook his head. He knew rabies as one of the evilest things to come from pain and disease for something so simple. He had never seen it himself. But Miasma had. He had been the one always picked to put the animals down. At first it felt wrong. Eventually it felt normal,  and tender is the flesh of creatures so simple…..like humans… 

The itch between his horns made him twitch and feel a shiver pulse through him…

It was, even as a mercy killing, murder. Could a Merciful God really be content to sit back and watch his supposed children slaughter one another and his creations… Some God…

Jim continued some pages down, 

*“Marshall Wright… antlers to the belly, gored onto a tree.  He shot the buck though. He got to have a taste of it before he died. One of the boys went to get the preacher. Thomas Spencer had been hunting with him. As he bled slowly from his belly wounds, Thomas, sure as fire, cooked up a piece of that venison  and fed it to his fellow friend before he eventually gave up the ghost… all too soon… and all too late the companion arrived with Father Vanhassel. Thomas was never the same after that. And he insisted he go hunting alone after that. He pulled the barrel of his gun on the next poor soul who tried to come along. Something happened or at least, something shoulda happened, out there in those woods. Even I had to come just to get him to get up from that red snow… it was like the angels were crying, their snowflakes almost stinging. I sent men to retrieve the body and the carcass… Funny how both dead things could be equal in death. Hunter is no hunter when he's not hunting, because he’s dead. And well, A buck is just venison after all. And food is food. Death makes equals of us all.”*

“Jesus that’s Morbid” Jim huffed. Miasma tilted his head, tail flicking, “Depending on the food chain, anything dead is up for grabs isnt it… to the scavengers, I mean... But even hunting creatures prey on the dead. It’s just the natural order of things isn’t it…” 

Jim looked at Miasma warily who was examining the photo to wonder what man had died sot terribly as to be gored to death by the very animal he was probably hunting. And his hunting companion seemed to feel guilty. Did he fall asleep? Did he miss his shot? Did he even pull the trigger?...

Jim kept reading, all the while feeling the creepy energy oozing from Miasma now, his hand still clutching that crucifix, the blood diamond in it a reminder of why they were here… Jim re-imagined that horrifying scene from his dreams… and how Miasma seemed to be parroting the words in this book in a way that was twisted and at the very least, seriously sinful. Consuming human flesh, god that was different from drinking blood as a vampire. To consume actual flesh. Digest it. And defecate. “Saints above” Jim shivered.

[The End plays:]

“December 2nd, Saints above”,

the diary read,

“Why now does God take what little comforts we have…Father Evight Vanhassel has joined the holy choir. I swear you can still hear his voice running across these dark mountains. As if a hymn to the lord. But why does it sound like an omen, a harbinger of death.. The death of one good man can become the death of the world. Hell, Jesus Christ was such a man. How many used his name for ill and got their gains. Father Evight was a man of caliber that was so wholly unselfish. He would have made a wonderful father. But as god gave his only begotten, it seemed we had unwittingly sacrificed the purest lamb of this wretched flock. The cold brings the cold hearts of man to live  like revenants above the earth, clutching  their robes, like blankets against the chill. God…it’s so cold…You know, the same world in which death waits in the shadows, so too is that fear. Father Evight had taken his last watch. But by morning, he was stiff, and cold. Indistinguishable from the snow that had piled around him. He met the Lord on virgin snow. For his sake, I hope his passing was as they say it is when one expires from exposure to the frosts like this. Like falling asleep, and feeling warm at last. I pray that was the manner of his passing. As his watch was third, the witching hour or the hour that god hears, it seems Evight Vanhassel now knows if his faith was worth it. If his songs to his God ever fell on imagined ears, or maybe he really is a true watcher now, an angel in the sky, wearing one of those halos and playing harps on the clouds… Then why does his voice, carried on the wind, make these dark mountains seem darker… why does the cracking snow above the pass sound like the stampede of horses. Why does his death loom over us so…”

Miasmas eyes shot up to Jim, who looked sadly at the book. Miasma felt a strange sensation behind his eyes, squeezing and wet. The preacher had died. The moral compass of the company. And what sounded like a good man. And he couldn’t help but feel a certain sadness about it… knowing that…

That…

“Wait” Miasma said, dropping the crucifix to his chest and pulling the bible that had slipped to the floor from his lap, to the first page.

“December 2, Evight Von Hassel…” Miasma said, a claw scraping gently at the page, smearing a droplet of wet ink on his hand. He looked up at Jim and Jim nodded back, a look of bewilderment. This was it. This was the beginning of the end. From this point on, they would know the secrets hidden in this place.

They would learn of those who haunt these grounds. Who haunts this blood stone. Who seemed to be everywhere and nowhere around them,, as if this whole area now was swallowed up in the belly of a great whale. And the darkest of days were now upon them. And with the weight returning to their shoulders, Jim swallowed and crawled from his seat on the floor back towards miasma and held the diary open, while Miasma pointed out the people in the photograph. And as their bated breath halted in their chests, it seemed the air was slowly being sucked out of the room out the open door, that seemed to hang ever so slightly as if perhaps, it might creak shut, and close it’s maw on the Preacher Man, and the Traitorous Ghoul, who sat together, much the same way another certain preacher had sat with the whores, the tax collectors, the poor, the sick, the leperous lame and blind. A support to his friend. And soon, they would know the fate of those who lived and died here. And they hoped they would use the choice words in their precious books to find the answers to just, make it out of this bleak world alive… and really.. That’s what should've happened… Had Jim shut the book and left it there… but he didn't. And upon turning the next page. The true hell on earth began, and it wasn’t the hell of the fire and the flames…it was a hell on earth. And it was ice cold, and far from any god’s grace…

Please, interact with us, our music cues will be highlighted for your convenience

[whatarewedoingdude]

My ex catholic mother when she sees ghost merch

[ghostisun]

mist/dew but it’s mist feeling resentment towards the ministry, imperator specifically, because—“haven’t you taken enough from me?” (she was the first to know about dew’s transformation. how could she not? the essence of the mate of her soul is being ripped from their bond, leaving her to burn.)

[candycottonchu]

so I've seen @elderwisp making a bunch of band announcement posters for Edgewave 2025 and thought it'd be great to have more!

this poster collection includes the bands that haven't been featured there and gave me their permission to be included until June 1st:

-the placid crows @senatrosims -the eyes of belladonna @plasmamilktea -daisy pusher @35mmsmile -alba rubio @someone-elsa -lara @lilamausmaus -drow boys @nakasumi-sims -crucifix echo @crvptyd -chain reaction @tasertot -uppreisn @orionisms -grapefruit @alelelesimz -deep rift by me 🙊

DOWNLOAD LINK

@aniraklova @alwaysfreecc

[salemssimblr]

EDGEWAVE OFFICIAL LINEUP MERCH DOWNLOAD

Roll up roll up it's finally time to get your hands on "official" Edgewave 2025 merch!

@aniraklova was kind enough to agree to allow me to make us an "official" Edgewave 2025 Lineup poster! & HERE IT IS:

Special thanks to ALL the simmers who submitted their band names (or participated in Edgewave (I've grabbed some band names from sleuthing the edgewave tags)) without yall this couldn't have been possible! (credits to each simmer below the cut!)

But if yall didn't know by now I am ✨extra✨so of course I didn't stop there.

I've created 9 official edgewave shirts for you to rock at and after Edgewave! 6 female frame and 3 male frame! Each only have one or two swatches but feel free to add your own band's logo!

Also a MILLION THANK YOUS to @trillyke for their open TOU! THANK YOU! All of these are Trillyke recolors! Bless you

I've also FIXED THE WRISTBANDS (wish yall would've told me they were broken but it's ok) so REDOWNLOAD PLEASE!

INFO & TOU:

ALL BGC

Custom thumbnails

Tested in game & CAS

Shirt mesh credits to @trillyke!

All band names belong to their respective creators!

Please do not reupload, put behind a paywall, or claim as your own!

If you use them PLEASE @ ME I WANT TO SEE!

DOWNLOAD: - google docs - patreon

THANK YOU to all the simmers who sent their band names to be featured here! I LOVE YALL! Credits to:

Alice + the Madness & Caliber Crisis by me!

Ravagers by @aniraklova!

Final Girl by @fallstaticexit!

Coven by @thornthisway!

Children of Grim by @littleredgrim!

Uppreisn by @orionisms!

Crucifix Echo by @crvptyd!

Sugar & Stake by @whimsypixiesims!

Fruit Batz by @daniigh0ul!

Running Riot by @acidheaddd!

Banshee by @hell-is-coming-for-you!

Interstellar Decay by @xstardustbatsx!

Everhorne by @shesthespinstersimmer!

Martyr by @elderwisp!

Sugar Valentine by @stargazer-sims!

Preschoolers by @flovoid!

LARA by @lilamausmaus!

Draw Boys & Vulcânico by @nakasumi-sims!

Green Gary by @simdertalia!

Deep Rift by @candychucotton!

The Placid Crows by @senatrosims!

Dog Defiant by @eclesthetic!

Natasha Bajrovic by @simbinaryrose!

Chained Hound by @rabbitxxhole!

Chain Reaction by @tasertot!

The Eyes of Belladonna by @plasmamilktea!

Gravity by @tikay21!

Void Verdict by @occultradio!

WeiRdoW & DND by @crazy-hazy-sims!

MADDOGS by @nanotomik!

La Culpa Mia & Sugilite by @blackeyedaliens!

Grap3fruit by @alelelesimz!

NIGHTFIRE SIGNAL by @anachrosims!

Delirium by @darknessthesimmer!

DETHKLOK by @quasarfinds!

Pink Carnation by @dandylion240!

Oni's Touch by @marzipaneavocado!

Hell's Bells by @thebramblewood!

[carbonfiction]

would you do a cutie inexperienced matt murdock wih a dom reader? 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh I absolutely can anon <3!

Now i had a few different ideas for this but ended up going fairly simple?? However im not at all against dropping something else w Matt and a more dom/experienced reader if thats what y'all wanna see? Lmk? <3 I am a sucker for an inexperienced cutie!!

Warnings?: shooooort im so sorry. Sortaaa inexperienced College!Matt, Handjobs, lil swearing, boob/nip sucking and a tug at matts crucifix...

Also sorta inspired by this here linkkk :p

Theres a gentle tremble to matts legs as you sit between them, a hand clasped tight in the sheets besides his hip. The dorm room quiet aside from heavy breathes; mostly his as you shift to sit on your knees on the lumpy mattress.

Matts pants long kicked away, left in only his boxers as they strain against his hard on. Beads of precum staining the fabric the longer your eyes amire him.

Each sensation dailed high as your palm presses into the fabric; firm yet slow strokes over his length making his abs clench with every shakey breath. The soft friction on his already sensitive cock making his hips buck.

"Doin okay matty?" you coo gently, checking in.

Matt nods, throat bobbing thicky with a breathy sound, but its not enough. You need to hear him say it, need him to confirm verbally. "Yeah? Gotta use your big boy words for me so i know.."

"Im okay sweetheart," he murmers, a tiny smile cracking over his lips at your care; your heartbeat steady in his ears compaired to his own running a mile a minute. "Better than actually.."

Matt hears the smile on your face when you giggle, the sound airy and girlish as you run a hand up his thigh. The light hairs tickling against your palm before you hook your fingers in the band of his underwear.

"Alright. Thats good." you nod, tongue wetting your lips audibly as you tug them down, "But you just tell me if you need me to slow down okay?"

"Mhmp.. Yeah.." matt says, His cock slapping at his stomach at the slight lift of his body. "yeah promise."

Your mouth waters at the sight of him bare; gently toned body on display for you as you shift again. This time to lay beside him, throwing a leg over his to remain close.

"So cute all hard f''me matty.." you murmer, eyes bright at the way he reacts; Red tipped and leaking precum on his lower stomach as you finally wrap your hand around him. "Looks like it hurts"

"Yeah.. S-shit.. So hard." he gasps, head falling to the side against your own bare chest as you stroke him. The soft strands of his hair tickling against your skin.

You gasp playfully at Matts words, surprised, yet teasing. "Ooh, look at that language Mathew.." your lips press against the top of his head. Free hand smoothing over his chest, nails a soft scratch at his abdomen up, up, up until those fingers tug at his chain.

Matt makes a broken little sound, head angled back, mouth dropping open against your boob. The little gasp exhaled around your nipple as he rocks his hips up again, almost already feeling oversensitive at the way your thumb offers friction at the head of his wheeping cock.

The crucifix offering a soft glow in the moonlight as it sits against the side of your hand, a little tight on his neck as it digs in from the back. "S'okay..i gotcha matty. You just keep that pretty mouth busy and ill take care of you. Make you feel real good"

[crvptyd]

Are we witnessing a resurrection — or the funeral?

After the acclaimed Penance in Ruin, Crucifix Echo has confirmed whispers of a new album, titled Litanies for the Forsaken — set to drop immediately after their Edgewave set. Sources close to the band claim the record is “less fire, more funeral,” with lyrics pulled straight from a lost gospel of defiance. Oh, and that rumoured unreleased track? It's real. And it’s coming.

📍 Edgewave 2025 🩸 Final set. Final sermon. Don’t miss it.

@aniraklova

[tisthenightofthewitch]

Metal’s messiah has officially returned - and his name is Tobias Forge.

Walking into the light, a robed, long-haired man steps out from his seat, arms-outstretched to the crowd before him, sparking a deafening round of applause. ‘Jesus has returned!’ shouts a corpse-painted nun. On this (un)holiest of Easter weekends, the O2 arena finds itself transformed into a biblical fever dream, as throngs of vestment-clad glitter-covered devotees await the arrival of their true idol of worship, Tobias Forge, the frontman of visionary occult party-rockers Ghost.

It’s been three years since the clergy’s last “ritual” in London, with 2022’s critically-acclaimed album Impera heralding their previous tour cycle. Now ushering in a new era - one manifested by a metallic new wardrobe and plenty of purple - unlike their last appearance here, tonight’s performance arrives unusually ahead of the release of their latest offering, Skeletá, giving fans the rare chance to experience multiple new tracks before the rest of the world.

That sense of exclusivity is amplified by the evening’s phone ban, which sees fans forced to lock away their devices in sealed Yondr pouches. Though it certainly feels like a dystopian move - can’t we really just ask gig-goers to abstain from filming? - the payoff is undeniably worthwhile.

Undistracted by the tempt to film, the room buzzes with transfixed glee, as Ghost open the set with the entirely new Peacefield, a glossy 80s-coded anthem that lands somewhere between Journey and Kiss. Expanding on the retro tenor is the recently-released Lachryma, Forge decorating the fist-pulling ballad with actorly poses and marvellously camp crooning. Later, Skeletá’s first single Satanized arrives with its galloping offbeat riff, initiating larger movement from the audience, before its lovably ridiculous chorus ignites crucifix-like stances and joyous exclamations of 'blasphemy, heresy!'. The final new track, Umbra, is utterly synth-drenched and neon-coloured, the venue’s lights casting the stage in a deep purple hue to match.

Coupled with the band’s new look - the nameless ghouls forming a troupe of bejewelled top-hatted skeletons and Forge evoking some kind of modern-day, satin-suited reiteration of Death, and the Skeletá era already feels a lot slicker, even sexier. The set is also mostly kept minimal, Ghost’s logo fixed above the stage in an arrangement of lights, before inflated church pillars and digital stain glass windows portray epic, evangelical scenes that further emphasise the religious and ritzy mood.

For most of the set, Ghost dip into their older, heavier hymnals, the majority of songs played from Meliora such as Cirice, Mummy Dust, He Is, Majesty, Devil Church and Spirit, their darker, doomier natures filling the arena with thunderous drum thumps and booming bass lines that feel as though their vibrating deep into your bones.

Meanwhile, Forge flaunts around the stage, skipping and rocking, his devilishly thespian bravado an ever-transfixing sight, as confetti and bursts of air explode out for that final theatrical punch on closing songs Mary On A Cross, Dance Macabre and Square Hammer.

Though the night was missing most songs from the much-loved Impera, with the upcoming Skeletá album seemingly carrying on its 80s vein, Ghost are band that needn't rely on the excitement of newer releases or fan-filmed footage on social media. Instead, they’ve created a sacred - and superbly-fun - world of their own, one run by its own rules and enchanting lore, and after performances like tonight, it feels like a privilege just to be let inside.

Metal’s messiah has officially returned - and his name is Tobias Forge.

Ghost setlist: O2 Arena, London – April 19, 2025

Peacefield Lachryma Spirit Faith Majesty The Future Is A Foreign Land Devil Church Cirice Darkness At The Heart Of My Love Satanized Ritual Umbra Year Zero He Is Rats Kiss the Go-Goat Mummy Dust Monstrance Clock

Encore: Mary on a Cross Dance Macabre Square Hammer

Metal Hammer

[semataryyyy]

LYRICS 4 666 PLSSS??

CHE - 666

triple

six

six

six

i’m

so

Fukn

Sick

TRIPLE

SIX

SIX

SIX

IM

SO

FUCKEN

SICK

fuckboy look at my Mufhucken Wrist

Damn

And i got it without Signin no deal

Bitch

But i can still get on that devil shit

Bitch

And ur Bitch like it I’ll take Ya bitch

Bitch

fuck A crucifix on Devil shit

Imma crucifix my wrist

grab My mask devil shit

Brietling bloody Wrissst

shawty carve my name All up on her ribsssss

n scream my name out her lips sass

when i give her this dirty ass 30 inch Dog demon dickkkkkk

six six six six

shawty hide my 30 stick

n pour me some pink quickkkkkk

my evil bitch lickin all night on my dick

smokin cancer sticks by the river styx

i told you that i was sickkkkk

ur boyfriends a lil bitch

my true religion jean pocket filled with them yeller oxy pills

burnin Hundred dollar bills

crucifyn on Ya gurlllll

six six six chevy Donk whips in a circle on the hill

yeaa grave man take your lil lamb n ur lil bands i’m a demon goat 4Real

[bloodmoonmary]

LORD, I NO LONGER BELIEVE,, DROWN IN LIVING WATERS

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙. the world moves too loudly for my liking, so i live between the pages of orlando, ancient rome ruins and the aching violins of bridgerton ballrooms. virginia woolf taught me how to dissolve into sentences; louis de pointe du lac taught me how to mourn beautifully. i'm always half-asleep, even when awake—dreaming of oil paintings that bleed into reality, of films that flicker like candlelight against my eyelids. i write the way one sighs: softly, without expecting anyone to listen. music is my oldest love, art my most patient confidant. i believe in the romance of immortality but keep a crucifix under my pillow just in case.

██ vampire masterlist : molloy. crucified like my savior oh ophelia they call him hermit, the frog. facts about vampire dr tag (more coming soon).

██ interview with the vampire dr: like a tattoo. leopard breaks into the church i think we are like

██ superman dr: moodboard

𓂃 i’m completely in love with iwtv universe and asoiaf, my favorite characters are jon snow (book!jon), daenerys targaryen (book!dany) and alicent hightower (nobody gets her like i do.) i’m 7teen, born in 13th may — many times my birthdays were on friday. i mainly yap about my drs, i don’t follow bots or/and accounts with no posts. i love the smiths, lana del rey, adrianne lenker and any other indie band from the 70/80s. you can find me on instagram by my art account (i’m an art enthusiastic.)

𓂃 DNI if you're racist, homophobic, transphobic, a troll, a scammer, or someone who engages in harassment, NSFW content or disrespects boundaries. i don’t like to interact with people who has the same s/o as mine, nothing personal. ⠀ ⠀⠀ kins: orlando, maren yearly, hadrian (book one), daniel molloy, alicent hightower, patty (dinner in america), will graham.

⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀

[callahanisms]

general ash headcanons

because the show didn't want ash to be an actual character. so here are some headcanons including some backstory elements because it actually pisses me off that they never developed her beyond a love interest.

i've been letting this stew and simmer for some time now.

♡ ash is short for ashley. she prefers ash because it's shorter. her name on canvas appears as "ashley de la cruz" and it took people a while to figure out it was her because on zoom it says "ash" and she has a meme profile picture.

♡ dad is mexican, mom is white. spent a lot of time with her dad's side of the family growing up. fluent in spanish. definitely has a younger brother that's way more spoiled than she is. as mentioned here, she peeled fruit with her grandparents a lot.

♡ raised catholic. baptized, communion, and confirmation. she deconstructed her faith while in high school. she doesn't go to mass unless she's forced to. but she still keeps her lady of guadalupe medal and her crucifix necklace.

♡ has a sourdough starter that she likes to feed.

♡ volunteers at the women's center on her own time. would probably end up taking over after ginger graduates.

♡ wears denim. lots of denim. her favorite denim jacket has embroidered flowers and a butterfly patch sewn onto it.

♡ freshman year she had long hair that reached her chest. and then she cut it while she was exploring her masc identity.

♡ knows how to use conditioner. i don't care what the show says. this girl knows how to use conditioner. does have minimal knowledge on makeup and skin care, but she's also fortunate enough not to have too many breakouts. she has definitely poked her eye once while doing eyeliner.

♡ big headphone person. when she's walking to class by herself she has them over her head.

♡ big big romantic. big into gift giving. big into getting you flowers. also big into acts of service. did you like the very pretty sourdough loaf she made for you?

♡ she pebbles. the people she cares about will always get something from her. "it made me think of you!"

♡ she can cook. but her specialty while at college is definitely tomato soup and sourdough grilled cheese using her homemade sourdough bread.

♡ big fan of wwe. she loves watching the straights' version of drag brunch. and also because her family were also big fans and they would watch the matches together.

♡ every two weeks, she goes on a day trip to the nearest ethnic grocery store. she gets homesick often and misses her family's food.

♡ part of the latine students union at essex college.

♡ had an intense homoerotic friendship with her best friend in high school and then they drifted apart. that's why she got really emotional when she watched y tu mamá también (2001) for a film class.

♡ unironically thinks showgirls (1995) is a masterpiece. first halloween at essex she was dressing up as nomi. her friend did her makeup for her.

♡ dressed as corky from bound (1996) for halloween.

♡ ash is very proud of her botanical lego collection.

♡ majoring in philosophy. which she does get a lot of flack for in her family. has enough credits for a minor in gender and sexuality studies though.

♡ does not need an outline for her papers. she can just write and she only does an outline if she's required to.

♡ did color guard for marching band when she was in high school. also was part of her high school's gay straight alliance.

[thesleeptokenarchive]

Social Media Update: January 6 2022

The first post for the collective in 2022 to their socials was about their first cover of a magazine, Metal Hammer issue 357, that went on sale this day.

Behold, an expression of Worship from the @MetalHammer publication. Consume - http://bit.ly/buyhammer

[X]

Additional photos from the article, by Andy Ford.

Words by RICH HOBSON. Article can be found here: [Link]

Sleep Token are a Mystery

Anonymous members, no interviews and sold-out shows: Vessel et al have become a modern metal phenomenon. We followed them on tour to try and find out more.

The view from 2022

As Vessel doesn’t talk, we predict the next 12 months on his behalf

What are his New Year’s resolutions?

To ensure a Sleep shrine in every home in the UK, perfect for accepting His offerings. Also for Vessel to kill fewer people using his telekinetic abilities (see: the video for Alkaline) and to use them for something more constructive instead, like whale conservation.

Sleep Token vocalist Vessel stands in front of 1,500 people at Birmingham’s 02 Institute, and the room falls silent. All eyes are fixed on the masked and cloaked singer for a sign – any sign – that might betray some message or hidden meaning behind the band’s mystique.

What’s going to be the biggest thing in metal in 2022?

“We love you!” cries a young woman. Finally, the spell is broken, and the crowd erupt into cheers that Vessel politely acknowledges with a slight nod. Then he moves, and the church-like quietude falls again. Leaning towards the mic, for the briefest of moments it seems Vessel’s five years of almost total silence will end, with Birmingham about to receive gospel from one of metal’s most enigmatic forces. Instead, he clenches his hands together in a sign of gratitude, saying everything by saying absolutely nothing – and everyone loses their minds.

Sleep Token will engage in a holy war with Ghost, ultimately triumphing and ending the line of Papas. Satan will convert to Sleep worship, rendering the whole ‘satanism’ thing redundant. Deicide will become door-todoor missionaries, converting people to the Sleep cause. Black metal musicians will end up switching to country, singing about the good ol’ days when you could burn churches and burn inverted crucifixes into your head.

We’re at the second night of Sleep Token’s eight-date UK tour, and since emerging in 2016, they’ve maintained an iron grip on their anonymity: they obscure their faces, they don’t talk onstage, and they have only ever done one interview – with this very magazine in 2017. The closest comparison is Ghost, but even they had ‘Nameless Ghouls’ who acted as regular spokespeople until Tobias Forge eventually broke cover, a decade into the band. It’s all very impressive – but who the hell are they?

What event or issue will define the world in 2022?

Here’s what we know: in that 2017 interview, Vessel told us that their music is all in service to ‘Sleep’, a mysterious deity whose roots stretch back centuries.

Sleep Token will make history by hosting the first livestream to be beamed directly into your dreams. A bit like with U2 and Apple, the whole thing will cause a massive fuss but ultimately blow over. Mastodon will try to do the same and end up falling through space/ time like a live-action replication of Crack The Skye.

“How we got here is as irrelevant as who we are – what matters is the music and the message,” they said. “We are here to serve Sleep and project His message.” And… that’s about it. Cheers for the insight, pal.

Despite – or perhaps because of – their secrecy, Sleep Token are fast becoming a cult sensation. While the lore is centred around Vessel, Sleep Token describe themselves as a collective, suggesting a collaborative effort between seasoned musicians, all feeding into the art. That may go some way to describe their fluid approach to genre, pulling elements of everything from tech metal and alternative to pop and R&B – part of a new breed of heavy bands who aren’t afraid to embrace multiple genres, as well as nontraditional ways of working.

In 2019, they drip-fed a series of singles that eventually became their debut album, Sundowning, rather than going ahead with a straightforward release. Even though they couldn’t tour during the pandemic, last September’s This Place Will Become Your Tomb charted at No. 39 in the UK, and this current run will conclude at London’s 2,000-capacity Shepherd’s Bush Empire. It’s no small feat.

“Sleep Token are an expression of where metal is in the 2020s,” says Ihsahn, co-founder of black metal legends Emperor and pioneering avant garde solo artist, who’s on the same label as the collective. “From the first time I heard them, I was completely intrigued – the way they mix modern metal elements with very dark moods, but also very clear, modern R&B-style production values.”

Sleep Token are by no means the first anonymous collective in metal, but their symbol-emblazoned masks, dark body paint, and use of everything from Nordic runes to Hindu symbology in their artwork have piqued the curiosity of metal fans and fellow musicians.

“It’s similar to what we had with the black metal scene, with the masks and mystery that helps to raise it all,” Ihsahn explains. “Emperor wouldn’t be where they were without that theatricality, because we needed to do something to distance ourselves from the spotty teenagers we were!

“It creates a clear distance and space between the art and the artist,” he continues. “I’ve always appreciated artists who created that distance – going back, you can watch all these interviews with David Bowie but it never feels like you knew him. The art he created was an offering and you just had to try to understand it.”

Of course, with Vessel it’s even more difficult. Our attempt to get answers in 2017 was like grasping at mist: when we asked why they wished to remain anonymous, Vessel turned the conversation towards what he thought was truly important – the art itself. “Our identities are unimportant,” he said. “Music is marketed on who is or isn’t in a band; it’s pushed, prodded and moulded into something it isn’t. Vessel endeavours to keep the focus on His offerings.”

When asked what the future held, Vessel simply replied: “Nothing. Lasts. Forever.” Does that mean there’s a time limit on the band? What the fuck is going on?

It’s tinfoil hat time. Outside of live performances, Vessel has only appeared in music videos. His first onscreen appearance came as a shadowy, grasping figure in the 2016 video for Thread The Needle, before appearing maskless in the 2017 video for Calcutta – albeit with Slipknot/Before I Forget style editing that only showed his mouth, cheek and eye. He’s become more prominent in recent videos – even telekinetically taking out a room of hazmat-suited goons in the video to Alkaline – but still no obvious, overarching narrative has emerged.

Elsewhere, his mask has made its own separate appearances. In the video for Fields Of Elation it floated free in a body of water, and in Nazareth it appeared standing alone in the video’s final moments, before appearing in blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moments in Jaws, where it’s worn by the video’s star.

Which raises the question: is Vessel the man behind the mask, or something the mask brings forth?

Sleep Token’s acolytes have been searching for clues. In a Discord server set up by Coventry-based fan Chris, they pore over the band’s lyrics, album artwork, music videos and merchandise in an attempt to decipher hidden meanings, like a metal take on The Da Vinci Code. “It was actually through Metal Hammer that I got into the band,”

Chris tells us. “Reading the interview with Vessel on the website, I wanted to find out more. I took to Reddit to see if there was a community for the band and at the time there wasn’t, so I decided to create it.”

Now numbering more than 900 members, the group have become adept at deciphering codes left by the band. They discovered that a string of numbers featured on a t-shirt design were coordinates for a ‘whale fall’ – an event where a whale’s carcass falls to the ocean floor and becomes a source of nourishment for an entire ecosystem. When This Place Will Become Your Tomb was released, Benjamin, one of the admins, even took on the semi-joking role of Keeper Of The Lore, maintaining and steering discussions for each new song.

“I loved the hidden identities and world-building the band was presenting,” he explains. “There was a whole experience outside of just the music. The new album features heavy imagery of a decomposing whale and the animals that would feed on it; a representation of life in death –a topic lyrically discussed by Vessel frequently – and eternal recurrence.”

The Discord continues to provide fascinating insights into what the band may – or may not – be exploring through their art. But without any form of ‘official’ statement on their theories, and with a potential fixed end point for Sleep Token, couldn’t the fanatics be setting themselves up for disappointment down the road?

“Nothing lasts forever – until then we Worship,” Chris says matter-of-factly.

Aside from discussions on mythology, the Discord has also become a social club that binds people together. “The Discord community is amazing,” says New York-based fan Veronica, aka BluKittie. “There are people from all over the world and we share the same love and passion for the band. We are always there for each other. Last year my father passed away and the members of the community helped me through that rough time, and still do. I am just happy to have found friends there.”

An hour before Birmingham’s 02 Institute opens, the queue is already snaking down the street as far as the eye can see.

At the band’s request, we’re not allowed backstage lest we see their faces, but we do speak to their support act, solo artist AA Williams. Like Sleep Token, she’s found an audience with metallers even though her music spans alternative, pop, soul and metal –a sound we’ve previously tagged as ‘death gospel’.

“I think we work pretty well together,” she says. “It’s great to see an artist who is able to explore both pop and really heavy music without the need to hold back or overcompensate on either element. The shifts in dynamics really come to life live, and their crowd utterly lap it up – it’s like going to church.”

Are there any difficulties that come from playing with such a secretive act? Has anyone tried to get her to reveal Sleep Token’s identity? “Well, it’s not like we’ve had to sign NDAs or anything,” she says. “At the same time, you do want to make sure you’re not impinging on their privacy, and respecting their choice to present their art in a particular way. If anyone asks who they are, I think I’ll make up a celebrity – it’s Robert De Niro. Next question – ha ha ha!”

Tonight AA commands rapt attention, but there’s no competing with the headliners. All chatter is silenced as the room plunges into darkness. Moments later, Vessel strides onto the stage alone to cheers of approval, his mask the only thing visible against now-muted lighting. He tinkles the ivories for Atlantic and the crowd are soon singing along to every word, even though the album has barely been out two months.

AA WILLIAMS

For 90 minutes, Sleep Token hold attention in a way that defies logic. How can a band that don’t speak be so damned expressive? Compared to the stagecraft of bombastic arena bands such as Iron Maiden or Sabaton, Sleep Token are low key, but Vessel radiates gravitas, his twisting and grasping movements bringing to mind the theatrics of interpretive dance, where each flick of the wrist could be conveying some hidden meaning. The fans are utterly enraptured, moshing and singing along with religious fervour, lending credence to the band’s social media descriptions of their shows as ‘rituals’.

As it was in Birmingham, so it is in Glasgow, Sheffield, Dublin and beyond. By the time the tour arrives at London’s sold-out Shepherd’s Bush Empire, it’s clear that, much like Ghost before them, Sleep Token are fast outpacing their status as a cult phenomenon, smaller academies no longer able to contain their rapidly growing fanbase.

If Birmingham was about reverence, London is outright revelry – an irrepressible crowd engaging in a bacchanalian frenzy that has little to do with the extortionate bar prices and everything to do with the explosive performance unfolding onstage. And then, a couple of lads start Cossack dancing in the middle of a circle pit. Sleep help us…

Not to be outdone, Sleep Token bring out their own dance troupe for Fall For Me. Not that they need any help capturing people’s attention: here, Sleep Token are preaching to the converted, a cult threatening to spill over into the mainstream.

No one knows what direction Sleep Token will go in next, and it’s not as if they’re about to tell us. But then, that’s how things have always been with the band – each release a mystery that fans can’t wait to unwrap. “When I heard the second album, there was no indication of where they were going, so in my mind it just had so many seeds of development,” Ihsahn says. “There’s more maturity and there’s clearly something they are building towards, though exactly what that is, is impossible to say…”

Perhaps the stock answer from Vessel, five years on, would still be “nothing lasts forever”. Will they push their sound even further? Will they start conducting interviews? Will they ever unmask? Right now, anything is possible – and that’s what makes Sleep Token so exciting.

[salemssimblr]

2025 Edgewave Stage Blender Scene

For another year, I've meticulously recreated @aniraklova's Edgewave lot in blender, and now I'm sharing it with you!

Same as last year, it is NOT a 1:1 recreation. But it is very much based on and inspired by the Edgewave lot!

Some info:

THIS IS A BLENDER SCENE NOT FOR THE GAME

I RUN MY RENDERS IN CYCLES - this was built for cycles and NOT tested with Eevee! (but feel free to adjust/run in Eevee!)

Made with Blender 4.3.2

Only instruments from the original lot are included - feel free to design the stage as you see fit!

The stage screens are grey on install, but you can replace them with your band's images with the included files:

Replace those files with yours and then plug them into the texture nodes. If you need help with this please reach out!

Tested but please let me know of any issues! (thank you for testing it @hell-is-coming-for-you!)

SPECIAL THIS YEAR - THE MERCH TENTS

I've had the absolute pleasure this year of including band merch for a number of sims bands! Special thanks to:

Ravagers by @aniraklova!

Final Girl by @fallstaticexit!

Coven by Rose (no Tumblr to link)!

Children of Grim by @littleredgrim!

Hell's Bells by @thebramblewood!

Uppreisn by @orionisms!

Crucifix Echo by @crvptyd!

Fruit Batz by @daniigh0ul!

Interstellar Decay by @xstardustbatsx!

Everhorne by @shesthespinstersimmer!

Martyr by @elderwisp!

Sugar Valentine by @stargazer-sims!

Preschoolers by @flovoid!

Vulcânico by @nakasumi-sims!

Green Gary by @simdertalia

Deep Rift by @candychucotton

Alice + the Madness by me! (:

TOU

Do not redistribute or claim as your own

Do not put behind a paywall

Otherwise, do literally whatever you want with this scene

FEEL FREE to adjust/move/edit/recolor anything as you need it

I WILL BE OUT OF TOWN FOR THE FIRST WEEK OF JUNE SO I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO TROUBLESHOOT YOUR ISSUES! fyi <3

ALL CREDT FOR EDGEWAVE FEST AND THE INGAME LOT GOES TO @aniraklova

🤘ROCK ON (<- download here, sfs no ads!) (this file has been replaced to fix some unintentional shuffling of the merch tents!)

& AS A BONUS!! WRISTBANDS!

Can't have a fest without a stack of wristbands amirite!?

1 swatch each, M&F

Mesh credit to @softpine

🤘GET YOURS HERE (<- download here, sfs no ads!)