#Graveyard grooves

[niks1life]

2023 Best Spooky Halloween Music Mix - 2 Hours | Nik's One Life

Get ready to be haunted by the spine-chilling melodies and eerie ambiance of my Spooky Halloween Music Mix. Dive into the dark and mysterious world of Halloween with this hauntingly captivating collection of music. Immerse yourself in the sinister sounds, ominous tones, and haunting compositions that will send shivers down your spine. Whether you're hosting a Halloween party, creating a spooky atmosphere, or simply in the mood for some bone-chilling tunes, this mix is the perfect soundtrack for the season. Let the haunting melodies transport you to a realm of shadows and embrace the thrill of the unknown. Brace yourself for a hair-raising journey filled with ghostly whispers, macabre symphonies, and a symphony of eerie delights. Prepare for a hauntingly unforgettable Halloween experience with our Spooky Halloween Music Mix.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔖𝔦𝔵 𝔉𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔘𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 - 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔊𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔶𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔈𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔥

[minaturefics]

Whispered Words

Request: Can I request an aragorn x reader where the reader is a queen from a faraway land? The fellowship came to his land to ask for help and Aragorn instantly fell in love? Whatever you like to add!

A/N: Ngl, I feel like I went off the rails a bit here (still trying to get into the groove again). I tried to create and integrate a somewhat convincing land/people. And the fic is mid-war so idk how romantic it really is. Still, I hope you enjoy it!!!

Aragorn x Reader

Fem reader

No content warnings

2.5k words

---

You sat back in your throne of twisting coral and straightened the crown of mother-of-pearl shards on your head. All the torches in the throne room were lit, the fires flickering blue and purple, and the faded banners of your country adorned the walls. The coastal guard had alerted you to intruders — a company of four — that were swiftly captured and brought to the crumbling castle.

Who would dare sail the black waters? Who would dare to venture so close to the graveyard of the Númenóreans? There was only one, you thought, who would be desperate enough, bold enough, to endeavour such a treacherous trip — the returned heir of Gondor. 

The rumours had flowed to you, to your kingdom, carried by the waters of the Anduin and the creatures that inhabited it. There were stories of the encroaching shadow of Mordor, of the growing strength of the Corsairs of Umbar, even of the awakening of the Ents. For years you had hoped that the dangers would remain on the continent, but it seemed that the kingdom’s luck had run out. 

You reached for your sceptre, a beautiful thing of wrought gold and pearl, and nodded at your guards to let them in. 

The large wooden doors creaked open and revealed a curious array of companions — a man, an elf, a dwarf, and a wizard. The wizard you knew, one of the fabled Maiar, but the rest…

They walked forward hesitantly, eyes scanning the room, until they stood before you. They were waterlogged and bedraggled, their clothes creased, sticking to their forms, their hair hanging in stringy strands. Even the elf, so noble and graceful, stood in a dishevelled mess, and you fought a smile.

The wizard bowed first and the rest followed suit. You eyed the man, taking in his dark hair and his ripped clothing. This was the heir of Gondor? He looked like a mere Ranger, a man of the land. He raised his head and a pair of keen grey eyes pierced you.

Your breath hitched in your throat and your fingers tightened around the sceptre. 

“I know why you have come,” you said.

The elf and the dwarf shared astonished looks, but the man stood straighter and said, “Then you know there is not a moment to lose. I will speak plainly if Your Highness allows.” You inclined your head and he continued. “I am Aragorn, son of Arathron, heir to the throne of Gondor. My companions — Gimli, son of Gloin, Legolas of Mirkwood, and Gandalf the White. 

“We have come to request your aid against Sauron of Mordor. Your kingdom may be safe for now, removed from the continent, but it will only be a matter of time before Sauron turns his eye towards the west.”

That, you already knew. But even so, to send your creatures, your people, into battle… There was little hope in defeating the overwhelming forces of Sauron, but here, sequestered away and shrouded by a vengeful sea, your people might still yet live.

“What will you offer me in return?”

“In return?” Gimli frowned, his chest puffing. Aragorn raised a hand to silence him and the dwarf fell to quiet grumbling. 

“Land,” Aragorn said. “A home, an island, close enough to the continent for trade. It is wild and empty, but the land can be worked.”

“You speak of Tolfalas,” you murmured, thinking of the rocky and lonely island in the Bay of Belfalas.

His offer was a good one. It was not an easy life for you or your people, surrounded by tumultuous seas, battered by frequent storms. The bay would be sheltered, there would be plenty of catch and the weather would be temperate enough to farm properly, and of course, there would be trade with the coastal cities. It could be a place where your people could grow and thrive. 

“Our people once were allies,” you said to Aragorn. “When your ancestors’ hubris destroyed them, it nearly destroyed us too.”

“This is not hubris, Your Highness,” he said, voice firm and impassioned, stepping forward. “Hubris would be to sit here and think that your kingdom would be beyond his reach. Hubris would be to think that you alone could survive him. Together there is still a chance we might drive his forces back, but alone we would fail.”

Aragorn straightened and squared his shoulders, he lifted his chin, and there in the ghostly light of the hall, he stood, a true king. 

A heat flared in your stomach.

“Very well. You have our support.”

He broke into a smile, and gone was the solemn son, the honourable heir. Instead, before you stood a man, handsome and strong, and your traitorous heart thudded  in your chest. 

-

Aragorn settled down in the hull of the ship, feeling each sharp rise and fall of the waves, and tried to get comfortable on the cushioned bench. Rain pelted the deck above him like a volley of arrows and the sky rumbled like a distant war drum. It was unfortunate that they had to sail back to the continent in a storm, but you had supplied them with a ship of your people, sturdy enough to withstand any tempest. He was glad that they had secured your allegiance, and he had no doubt it would be invaluable when Sauron began his assault in earnest. 

He had heard and read about your kind, the Númenórean’s oldest allies, people of land and sea, shapeshifters of a sort, but to meet one, to meet you…

He thought of how you looked on your throne of dead coral, formidable and beautiful, your gaze sharp and your painted lips grim. He had seen the flicker of amusement on your face, the hint of a smile, when they stood, dripping onto the black marble floor. Such a lovely, lonely queen, the leader of a dying race, the steward of a fading land. 

Were it not for the weight of war on his shoulders, he would have been convinced that he had wandered into a fairy tale. For so long all he had been concerned with was his relentless work as a Ranger, of his inescapable duty as king, and yet when he had laid eyes on you those swirling thoughts vanished. Proud, noble brow, beautiful, determined eyes, graceful, strong shoulders. 

His heart had leapt from his chest and he was still yet to retrieve it.

He reached for the strange pendant around his neck and held it up to the lantern. It was an iridescent shell, gleaming purple and pink, that curved and spiralled to a point, much like a war horn. The memory of you giving it to him rose in his mind.

“It is the custom of our people,” you said with an amused smirk. “It allows us to speak across leagues of land and sea.”

“I have not heard of such a thing,” he muttered, turning the shell in his hand, running his dirty thumb over the polished surface.

You tugged a similar shell out from under your robes. “They are a matched pair.”

His heart stuttered. Was it possible that you felt the same inkling of  connection as he did?

“They were originally used by lovers, but they were soon adopted for logistical arrangements,” you said and he pushed down the rising feeling in his chest. “Though,” you continued, smile growing mischievous, “the way to use them has not changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“To harken to the paired shell, one has to kiss one’s own. There is a limit to how much one may speak, but it should be sufficient for us to arrange where and where to deploy our armies.”

Aragorn twisted the shell between his fingers. It felt too intimate to press his lips to it, to speak, knowing you would be holding yours close to your cheek, listening.

“Aragorn!” Gimli called from the top of the stairs. “We are emerging from the storm.”

“I can see the continent on the horizon,” Legolas added. 

Aragorn glanced down at the shell. Perhaps now would be a good time to test it. He listened for their retreating steps and, feeling foolish, brought the shell hesitantly to his lips. It was cool and smooth, and it carried the scent of the ocean. It glowed, illuminating a sphere of light around it.

“Aragorn?” Your voice was clear, but quiet, and he brought it closer to him. “Has something already gone awry?”

“No,” he chuckled, strangely relieved and soothed by the sound of your voice. “I simply wish to inform you that we have made it out of the storm. Dol Amroth is in sight.”

“That is good news. I am corralling my forces, we will soon follow behind you. The larger fleets we will send to Dol Amroth to defend against the corsairs, and our smaller army of creatures we will send up the Anduin.”

“That will do for now.”

The shell’s light pulsed and began to fade. 

“We will not be able to speak for a few more hours,” you said, voice faint and thin. “Until then…”

“Until then,” he murmured but the shell’s light had already vanished. 

-

It had been a gruelling three weeks. True to your word, you had deployed your armies as you had planned with Aragorn. In the Bay of Belfalas, the dark ships of Umbar were repelled by the hallowed vessels of your people, and up the Anduin swam swarths of sharp-toothed monsters to Pelargir and Osgiliath. For three weeks you had muttered into your shell, had cradled it to your ear, savouring the snatches of conversation with Aragorn.

“We are entering the Paths of the Dead soon,” he said. “I hope we will emerge with good news.”

“Be careful, Aragorn. I, too, have heard the stories of that path. The Dead will not be forgiving.”

“I do not fear them.”

“But I fear for you.”

“I promise you, we will be on our guard.”

*

“I had forgotten how enchanting the race of men can be,” you said. “Even in war they play their flutes and harps.”

“The people must take pleasure where they can.”

“When this is over, I think I shall learn.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and soothing. “Dol Amroth is known for its skillful harp players. I’m certain you will be able to find a good teacher.”

“Perhaps one day we can welcome you to Tolfalas with the sound of harps.”

He hummed, a low, pleased rumble. “I look forward to that day.”

*

“Aragorn, for Valar’s sake, please answer,” you grit out. “Word of Pelennor has reached me. Are you alive?”

There was silence, and then, a whisper, “Yes. But we have suffered greatly.”

“The sun, it has been blotted out.”

“The men are losing hope.”

“I have faith, Aragorn,” you whispered, picturing him standing in your halls, strong and noble. “I have faith in you.”

“That brings me more comfort than you know.” His voice was soft and tender, and your heart stirred. “You bring me more comfort than you know.”

*

“We are marching for the Black Gates,” he said, grim.

“You go beyond my aid. We will repel what forces we can here in the bay and along the Anduin.”

“If you do not hear from me —”

“No.  We will see each other again, Aragorn.”

“We may not,” he said. “And so now I say: I am glad to have met you. I am glad that we were able to honour our ancestors’ history.”

The shell pulsed.

“Aragorn…” 

And the light faded.

You had seen, had felt, the destruction of the ring, even all the way in Dol Amroth. There had been cheering in the street, tears of grief, of relief, and the Sea-ward Tower’s bell chimed in victory. Aragorn had answered you desperate calls, assuring you that he was alive, and made promises to ride down to the coastal city when his troops had settled.

You sat on the docks, dangling your bare feet into the cool water, and watched the setting sun paint the sky orange and pink. An odd look perhaps, for a dignified queen, but after the horrors and terrors, you felt that it was a necessary indulgence. You stared at your rippling reflection, wishing you could shift form and vanish into the embrace of the ocean, just for a moment. Alas, that would be too much of an indulgence; you needed to be available should any matter arise. 

You thought of Aragorn, of his steely grey eyes, his peppered beard, his toothy grin, and your heart fluttered. Who would have thought that a descendant of the Númenor would stir your heart so? Or perhaps it was not so much of a surprise, given the blood that ran through both your veins.

Aragorn’s voice rang out, calling your name, and you fumbled for your pendant. 

“Are you on your way? Shall I inform the Prince of your arrival?”

He chuckled, sounding clearer and closer than he had in weeks. “I am already here.”

You whipped around and he stood a few paces from you. You rose to your feet, taking in his eyes, soft and silver in the evening light, and his lips, cracked but smiling. He was unarmoured, but dressed in his kingly robes of black and silver. You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your damp robes and bare feet, flush rising in your cheeks.

Valar, what had come over you? You were a queen of your own right. 

“I wish you would have told me of your impending arrival. I would have sent word to the princes to prepare the city to welcome you.”

He waved his hand. “There is no need for such things.”

“You are a king.”

“I did not come as a king.”

His gaze was sure and full of meaning. He stepped closer and the breeze carried his scent of cedar and pipeweed to you. He was so much larger up close, broad and imposing, but also so much more charming. You ran your eyes over his face, the lines on his forehead, the creases at the corners of his eyes, his slightly unruly beard. Yes, underneath it all, still a man.

“I did not come for them, the people of the city,” he muttered. “I came for you.”

“Aragorn…”

He reached for your hand, and when you did not move away, he wrapped his fingers around yours. “Do not tell me you do not feel this also. I have heard the change in how you say my name.”

Your heart swooped, but you shook your head. “I have my people to care for, a home to build.”

“As do I. We need not make any formal promises as of yet.” He squeezed your hand. “I only ask that we continue to speak as we have these last few weeks. I do not wish to go a day without hearing your voice.”

You nodded slowly and he brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a smile breaking over his face. “How long do you have before you must return?”

“A day or two.”

You hummed, gripping his hand tighter, and faced the sun. The air was crisp and clear and the rays warmed your skin. There was laughter from the homes and music in the streets. The Sea-ward Tower’s bell rang out, loud and joyous. Aragorn glanced at you, smiling, and you grinned.

“Then let us enjoy this peace for a moment longer.”

---

Aragorn is so grim and broody sometimes I find it so hard to write him, to show passion and feeling in a way that's not out of character. I hope he didn't come off as too flat here.

[hearts-hunger]

Welcome to the 2023 GVF Fic Writers Halloween Event! Prompts are below the cut, but first, some info about this very spooky affair.

٭ The rules are simple: pick a prompt from the list below and write a fic about it! The prompts range from particularly Halloween-y to just general autumnal vibes, and you're welcome to riff off any of them in any way you choose. On your post, please note which prompt (or prompts) you picked for your fic!

٭ This event is open to all GVF writers, whether you're a seasoned vet or a first-time writer! If you're a reader, show your love for GVF writers by liking their fics, reblogging them, and commenting in the reblog or even just in the tags. All fics from this event will be reblogged by me and added to a masterlist that will be linked in my bio!

٭ Fics can be written for any and all pairings — x reader, slash, platonic, x oc, multi, whatever you like! It's also open to any length fics (blurbs, oneshots, series) and all genres, from vampire sexy to candy sweet to scary movie spooky and everything in between. Please make sure to clearly tag any potential triggers in your fic — we want this event to be accessible and fun for everyone. Please also use a readmore in any fics that are longer than blurb length, just to keep the dash tidy.

٭ Absolutely no negativity will be tolerated, whether from readers, writers, or anyone else. This is a community-building event, and if you're not here to have fun and be kind to others, don't be here at all.

٭ Tag your fics with #gvfhalloweenfics. To make sure I don't miss your fic, please tag me (@hearts-hunger) so I can reblog your fic and add it to the masterlist!

٭ The deadline is technically October 31st, but I'm happy to add fics to the masterlist any time before or after Halloween if your creative energy is grooving or lagging. You can also write as many fics as you want!

٭ Now that I've talked your ear off, let me say one last thing before we get to the prompts: my asks (with anon) and dms are always open for any questions about this event! Please reblog this post to get the word out, and tag any writers you think might be interested! Happy writing, and happy Halloween!

1. carnival haunted house 2. real haunted house 3. pumpkin patch 4. apple orchard 5. scary movie night 6. campfire ghost stories 7. baking halloween treats 8. carving pumpkins 9. trick or treating 10. decorating for halloween 11. making costumes 12. putting on halloween makeup 13. halloween bar crawl 14. ghost hunting 15. monster/ghost/witch au 16. county fair 17. halloween party 18. exploring a graveyard 19. adopting a black cat 20. playing with a ouija board 21. buying halloween decor 22. dark magic 23. a walk through the woods 24. cosy coffee date 25. camping trip 26. hay ride 27. local oktoberfest 28. cabin vacation 29. halloween/autumn wedding 30. starting a new halloween tradition 31. fic based on a halloween song

[losfacedevil]

Adore You // JMK

a/n~ This has been hanging in my doc graveyard for close to a year now - something I had started and never had the balls to finish. Well here we are some months later and it’s finally seeing the light of day. And on none other than my love @joshsindigostreak birthday! WC:4.1k

Warnings: Brattiness, slight dom!josh if you squint, unprotected penetrative sex, after care drabbles.

Sounds of laugher erupted through the speakers of the laptop that sat on top of Josh’s thighs. He screwed his eyes shut, a high pitched giggle escaping him as Sam continued on with his youngest child syndrome shenanigans - screwy faces and inappropriate jokes that had his brothers in stitches and made the call run longer into the night than anyone truly expected.

The time was nearing closer to midnight as Josh shifted the way he sat once more, crossing his legs in front of him as he pushed the laptop out further. Jakes voice danced through the computer speakers as he plucked at the strings of the guitar that sat gently across his thigh, the riff he had been excited to show everyone long forgotten as their call turned from a jam session to a hang out - one that had derailed any plans they had made.

She was laid on her stomach, draped across the other side of the bed with her legs up, feet crossed at the ankle and her nose buried in the latest book her sister had recommended she read. The story had fully engulfed all of her senses, being written in such a way she couldn’t help but feel like she was watching it unfold rather than reading it. Josh’s laugh had knocked her out of her groove, her attention span quickly dwindling as the time ticked on; what was meant to be a quick 15 minute call to hear a new riff turned into an hours long conversation.

Her gaze landed on his computer screen, watching as Jake placed his guitar down, picking up his phone and began to scroll as he reached up and ran a hand back through his shoulder length dark hair.

“I recorded this earlier, hold on lemme find it.” He mumbled.

Josh reached over, a reassuring hand finding the back of her bare thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, his way of letting her know he hadn’t forgotten about her. He started tracing gentle designs into her soft skin, his finger dancing in figure eights as his touch sent a chill up her spine. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as her gaze fell on his face, his eyes fully trained on the computer screen.

A soft sigh slipped past her lips as she tucked the bookmark in between the pages of her book, tossing it off to the side to be forgotten. Reaching up she gently caressed his ear, fingers dancing along the side of it before toying with the dainty hoop he had through his lobe; his eyes fluttering lightly at the sudden contact.

“What the hell is she doing?” A boisterous laugh boomed through the speakers, one unmistakably Sammy’s.

“Being a pain.” He chuckled, gaze finally meeting hers as her hand fell, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout at his words.

Josh pulled his hand from her thigh, gently caressing her cheek as his thumb landed on her bottom lip, pushing it back to meet her top lip before smoothing his thumb over them, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips. A soft whine only loud enough for him to hear emanated from her throat, earning her a smile that almost met his eyes.

A sly smile spread across her face as she reached over, pushing the laptop backwards so the camera was facing the ceiling. Josh’s jaw dropped glancing at the laptop before his eyes met hers once more.

“What the hell happened?” Jake called, the shuffle of him shifting in his seat causing Josh’s eyes to snap back to the laptop once more.

She pulled herself up into a seated position, tilting her head slightly as she leaned forward pressing soft open mouthed kisses to his neck. His eyes fluttered shut, reaching up to thread his fingers through her long locks and keeping her in place. She trailed her kisses higher, flattening her tongue against the sensitive spot nestled right below his ear. Josh pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard to stifle the sounds that fought to escape him.

“Yo! Y’all better not be getting freaky over there, ya nasty asses.” Sammy called, booming laugh shaking her from her assault.

Josh pulled a deep breath in through his nose, eyes meeting hers before he nodded in the direction of the laptop. A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, his cheeks flushed a crimson pink, winking at him as she laid back down.

Fanning a hand in front of his face he swallowed thickly, quickly readjusting the way he was sitting before pulling the laptop back into a proper position.

“What the hell was that?” Jake shook his head at the sight of his brother, cheeks flushed and pupils blown.

“I uh… I gotta go.”

A quick sign off met with groans and protests of ‘I just want to get this done!’ and a promise of hitting the studio tomorrow being enough to sate his brothers eagerness to work on something new. He closed the laptop, slipping it back into the backpack that leaned against the side of the bed, keeping the piece of technology safe.

She had rolled on her back during their sign off, arm thrown over her eyes to block out the ceiling light that bore down on them. Josh stretched out, almost every vertebrae in his back cracking from the way he had been sat hunched over for so long. His eyes traveled up her body, lingering on the sliver of skin peeking out from underneath her top as he reached over, pulling a single finger across her midriff.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as he stood from the bed, making his way to the bathroom as he continued to stretch out his stiff joints. The bathroom door closed with a soft click, alerting her to his absence. Throwing her arms above her head she stretched out her body before standing and padded over to her dresser, removing the necklaces that had graced her neck and placed them in the jewelry box.

She quickly gathered her long hair in a faux ponytail before piling it on top of her head and carefully plucking a hair tie off of the long forgotten bottle of lotion sat to her right. Her eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her hair in the hair tie, gently tugging at the bun until the hair tie was tight enough against the mass of hair.

Josh watched her from the bathroom door, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned up against the doorframe. His eyes trailed up her frame as she carefully chose her favorite scented lotion, plucking it up from where it sat on the dresser and carefully applied some to each arm, tilting her head upwards and applying the excess on her hands to her neck.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling down on it as he gently palmed himself though his pajama pants. Pushing off of the door frame he made his way over to where she stood still in her own world. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her back slightly so she rested perfectly against his chest as he tucked his face into the crook of her neck. She let her head roll to the side, reaching down and slotting her fingers with his.

“You smell so good.” He mumbled, lips ghosting over a sensitive spot on her neck as he spoke. A shiver danced down her spine, causing a giggle to erupt from her chest.

“It’s watermelon.” She giggled, reaching her free hand up to her nose, taking in the sweet scent. He hummed in response, the vibration of his throat sending tingles across her shoulder. There was an innocence in her answer, a child like tone to her voice.

“It’s my favorite.” He mumbled, placing a soft peck to the side of her neck as he tightened his grasp on her hand that was laced with his, taking a step back and spinning her in his grasp. His hand slipped to her lower back, pressing her firmly against him as he slipped his hand from hers, curling a finger under her chin to tilt her head so her gaze met his.

“Hi.” Her voice was airy, dancing around him as he leaned forward, placing a tentative kiss to her lips. She couldn’t help but to dance her gaze around his face, taking in the soft smile that tugged at the corners of his lips, his top teeth just peeking through slightly parted lips. She was completely enamored with the man stood wrapped up in her.

“I’m sorry that took so long, or maybe I’m not since you wanted to be a brat.” He mumbled, his lips ghosting over hers with every word his formed. She nodded gently, snaking her arms up to wrap around his neck.

“I did nothing of the sort, I’m innocent at best.” She cooed, batting her eyelashes up at Josh as he rolled his eyes.

“What was that babe? I don’t think I heard you right.” His voice slipped into the sinful lower register she loved so much.

“I said I did nothing of the sort and I’m innocent at best.” She cooed, pressing her ass back against his groin with a cheeky smile on her face.

“Oh…oh so I did hear you right? Yeah, no, I beg to differ.”

He reached up and cupped her chin in his hand, gently tilting her head to the side. His brow raised as he turned his head slightly and attached his lips to her neck. A soft gasp slipped past her lips and her eyes fluttered shut, reveling in the feeling of his lips on her neck.

“It was this that you did, right?” He spoke, letting his bottom lip drag across her skin. She pulled a deep breath in through her nose and expelled it through her mouth to the count of ten.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her breath caught in her throat as he turned his attention back to her skin, flattening his tongue to it up the length of her neck and tucked his nose safely behind her ear. He sucked on the skin right below her ear, earning himself a soft moan and a giggle as she reached up and threaded her fingers into his curly mop of hair.

“Oh, so that’s the game we’re playing.” She giggled, slipping her hand between their bodies to palm him through his sweats, the feeling of his erection eliciting a gasp from her chest. She slid her hand back, cupping his ass cheek in her palm and held him close to her.

Josh’s hands trailed up her sides, dipping beneath her shirt. His eyes fully trained on hers as he danced his fingers up her stomach, coming to rest right below her breasts. His pupils were blown, bottom lip nestled between his teeth as he cocked his head to the side, a silent question only she understood.

A slight nod of her head was all he needed before his lips were attached to hers, his hands gently kneading her breasts. His fingers ghosted over her taut nipples, a chuckle slipping though his nose as her body shook. He broke the kiss, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as he pulled it with him.

“Is someone a little needy?” He taunted, pressing soft kisses up her jaw line before sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of her earlobe. His hand danced back down her body, abandoning her breast as he quickly wrapped his hand around her neck; fingers pressing down gently into the sides of her throat as he tipped her head backwards.

Her breath caught, eyes snapping up to his as her fingers found the curls at the nape of his neck. She swallowed hard against his hand, fingers pulling at the curls her fingers were tangled in. His eyes rolled back, a sharp intake of breath being pulled through his teeth as he instinctively rolled his hips into hers; the sensation of his erection pressing into her sending a shiver down her spine. She let her hand travel down, pressing her palm against his erection as she gently wrapped her fingers around it the best she could through his pants; eliciting a satisfying groan from deep in his chest.

“Who’s the needy one?” She giggled, walking her fingers up his pelvic bone she captured his lips with hers. He bent at the knees, wrapping both hands around her thighs and lifted her, sitting her gently on the top of the dresser they were pressed against. His hand snaked up under the daisy dukes she wore, fingers gently rubbing against her clothed core.

A low chuckle escaped his throat as he trailed kissed across her cheek, quickly finding the sensitive spot that rested right below her ear. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling her body as close to his as she could. His fingers dipped underneath the thin cotton that separated their skin, his moves tentative at first as his finger traced her clit.

An electric jolt shot through her at the sudden contact, causing her legs to contract and pull him even closer to her. He continued his attack on her neck, nipping at the already reddened skin before smoothing his tongue over it.

“I’m not sure if you deserve to get what you want. Shit.” He mumbled, running his fingers through her slick folds as he collected her wetness before returning the pad of his finger to her clit. She melted into his touch, letting her head fall forward and rested her forehead against his shoulder.

“Shit is right.” She mumbled, sinking her teeth into the soft muscle that danced between his shoulder and neck. He pulled a sharp intake of breath though his teeth, the pain of her bite mingling with the pleasure that was bubbling low in his gut.

Josh worked her core over slowly, lax circles being traced around her clit as he let his fingers dip lower, teasing her entrance all the same. The soft mewling and sounds that escaped her was enough to keep him moving as he slowly plunged two fingers deep inside of her.

“Josh!” His name escaped her on a gasped breath, earning her a deep and sinister chuckle as he began to pump his fingers in and out of her.

“That’s my name… you wouldn’t want to wear it out quite yet though, sugar.” His voice was dripping with a sultry tone and he turned his head to the side, pressing his lips softly against the side of her neck. He reveled in the way her hands found the hair at the nape of his neck, tangling in the slightly and tugged gently, pulling a groan from deep in his chest. His thumb worked quick, tight circles around her clit keeping up with the rhythm of his fingers.

“Josh, please.” Her words were hidden between the soft moans that escaped her as the invisible band in her stomach began to tighten quickly. A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled back from her, admiring the now near purple mark that graced her light skin.

“Josh, please, what? What does my baby want, hmm?” He taunted, clear payback for the teasing she had delivered to him earlier. His fingers came to a halt, resting inside her as she tried to catch her breath and soft chuckles escaped him as she fluttered around his fingers.

“Josh, please, make love to me. Right here.” Her voice dripped with desire and she slammed a hand down against the dresser she was perched upon. Joshs eyes grew wide and he did as he was told, extracting his fingers from her before shimmying her bottoms down and off of her legs. A mischievous smile spread across her face as she reached out and untied the shoe string of his sweatpants, pushing them down just far enough for his cock to spring free.

“Right here, huh? A little adventurous tonight are we?” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving her unclothed core. She reached up and tapped his cheek, a move he knew all too well as she moved her hand to be cupped between them. Josh nodded once before spitting into the palm of her hand and watched as she wrapped her hand around his length, slowly pumping him and using his own spit as lubrication.

“Right here, and you’re gonna give me what I want, aren’t you? I was a good girl.” She giggled, pressing her forehead to his as he slowly moved forward and lined himself up with her entrance.

“A good girl is pushing it, but you were patient for the most part.” He mumbled, slowly pushing forward and sunk himself fully into her.

They groaned in unison, the feeling of being joined almost too much for them. Josh wrapped his hands around her hips, pulling her as close to the edge of the dresser as he could without her slipping off. A soft sigh escaped her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and captured his lip with hers in a gentle kiss.

Josh moved his hips slowly at first, in more of a teasing rhythm as she kissed her way across the length of his cheek. Soft groans escaped him as his grip on her hips tightened, holding her in place as the movement of his hips became quicker. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, a loud moan threatening to escape her as he drove himself deeper into her.

“Was a good girl.. waited all that time but I had to take matters into my own hands.” The words escaped her on a whispered sigh before she attached her lips to his neck, causing his eyes to roll.

“Bratty girl. You’re lucky you’re getting what you want.” He drawled, snaking his hand between their bodies and pressed the pad of his thumb to her clit. Her head fell back against the mirror, mouth slightly agape as his drove his hips into hers and pulled her closer to the edge with every circle he made with the pad of his thumb.

“Fuck, gorgeous.” The pet name slipped past her lips and his hips faltered, thrusts becoming sloppy as the fire in his stomach grew. She couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past her lips as his movements quickened, knowing full well what the pet name did to him.

“Yeah?” The question needn’t been asked as she clenched around him and leaned forward to dig her teeth into his shoulder once more. Soft moans escaped her as her high drew nearer, the band in her stomach pulled so tight she wasn’t sure how she was still holding on.

Josh found her neck with his lips, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses to her skin and paid close attention to the now deep purple mark he had left, making sure to soothe over it with his tongue. A sharp gasp sounded from her throat as her orgasm washed over her, and she reached out, digging her fingernails into the skin of his sides. He followed closely after, the twitch of his cock alerting her to his release as he bit down on his bottom lip, keeping the loud moan that threatened to escape at bay. She giggled softly, gently rubbing her hands over his sides to sooth the reddening nail marks.

“Maybe I’ll misbehave more often if that’s what I get for misbehaving.” Josh couldn’t help the way he rolled his eyes as he leaned down and captured her lips in a soft kiss, blindly reaching out for the box of Kleenex he knew sat to his right.

“Next time you misbehave you’ll be made to suck it and watch as I cum, just to leave you dripping and aching.” He chuckled lowly and pulled back slowly, quickly cleaning up the mess he had made.

Without a second thought he reached forward and scooped her up off of the dresser, turning on his heel. She wrapped herself around him, tucking her head in the crook of his neck. He mumbled something about the bathroom, gently sitting her down on the cool toilet seat lid before turning at the waist and began to run the faucet.

“Your hair is a mess, darling! Here, let me fix it!” He slipped in to the silly British accent she adored as he reached for her hair brush and made the motion with his hand for her to turn around. She leaned forward, crossing her arms and rested them against the toilet tank, letting her eyes flutter shut as he began to gently pull the brush through her tangled locks. She couldn’t help the chill that danced up her spine, the feeling of the brush and his talented fingers slipping through her hair creating a satisfying sensation.

“I love you.” Her voice was but a whisper as she reveled in the feeling of his simple gesture - something he knew made her melt.

“I love you, sweetness.” He mumbled, brushing her hair over one shoulder and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

Josh tapped her shoulders in a silent request for her to stand and he reached out, wrapping his fingers around the bottom hem of her shirt. She giggled softly and lifted her arms so he could rid her of her shirt. She spun on her heel and reached out, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressed a soft kiss to her bare chest.

“Thank you.” She mumbled, pulling away just long enough for him to shut the running water off. He shook his head lightly and reached for the hair tie she had tossed on the counter top and with a slight nod she turned on her heel. Wrapping the hair tie around his wrist he reached forward and began to thread his fingers through her hair, collecting the mass of it at the back of her head and secured it into a messy bun so it wouldn’t get wet.

Wrapping his hand around hers he led her the two steps to the tub and held her hand to steady her as she slowly stepped into the hot water. He followed suit, placing one foot on either side of hers and slowly sank down into the water, holding his arms out for her to take her place between his knees. Soft groans emanated from her chest as the hot water hit her sore back, soothing the muscles she had strained. Josh wrapped his arms around her gently, pressing soft kisses to any skin he could reach as she slowly melted into him. Using his free hand he cupped the water and brought it upwards, trickling it over her shoulder.

A shiver danced up her spine as the temperature difference, causing her to press farther back against him, chasing his warmth. Taking the washcloth from the side of the tub he dunked it in the water and began to trickle the warm water over any skin that wasn’t submerged.

“Thank you.” She mumbled again, reaching forward to grab the body wash off of the side of the tub, knowing he’d want to clean her up properly. Josh chuckled lightly, knowing she wouldn’t stop thanking him and accepting every word she uttered.

“For taking care of you? That’s my job, sweetness. To make sure you’re alright after we have some fun.” She nodded sleepily, allowing him to wash her body the best he could before he wrapped his arms back around her and held her, dancing his fingers up her arms and sending shockwave shivers through her body. He knew her all too well, the way her body relaxed more and her fingers stopped tracing designs against his thigh, he knew he was losing her to sleep.

“C’mon sweetness, let’s get out and rest, yeah?” He waited patiently for her to push herself to stand and quickly followed suit, wrapping his arm gently around her waist to support her as they both climbed out of the tub. He reached out and grabbed her favorite fluffy towel, wrapping her up in it and ran his hands gently against her arms. He dried off quickly and led her out into the bedroom, quickly finding her sleep shirt and in one swift motion removed the towel from her shoulders and pulled the shirt down over her head, holding it in such a way so she could slip her arms easily into the sleeves.

Donning his sweats he jumped into the bed and patted the mattress beside him, waiting as she dropped to her knees on the mattress and slowly crawled up the length of the bed. She curled up against his side quickly, wrapping her arm around his waist as he tossed the blanket over the both of them. Pressing a soft kiss to her temple he mumbled a soft goodnight to her almost sleeping form and settled in to let sleep envelop him.

JOSH BABE ROLL CALL: @joshsindigostreak @wideminded-dreamer @rhythm-of-space @stardustvanfleet @vanfleeter @tommie-gvf @takenbythemadness @runwayblues @kenobicoffee @gracev0609

[xx-midnight-candy-goblin-xx]

INTRO POST!! :D

[This will update over time]

I'm taking drawing requests!! :)

The fandoms I'm in are;

TV show/movie/indie animation fandoms:

Helluva Boss

Hazbin Hotel

The Owl House

Heartstopper

The Amazing Digital Circus

Nimona

She Ra

Gravity Falls

Monkey Wrench

Death Note

The Hollow

RAMSHACKLE

Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous

Jurassic World Chaos Theory

The Music Freaks

Carmen Sandiego 2019

Wild Kratts

How to Train Your Dragon

Rise of the Guardians

Coraline

Book fandoms:

Wings of Fire

Nimona

The Land of Stories

The Hunger Games

Loveless

Solitaire

A Good Girl's Guide to Murder

Heartstopper

Coraline

Webcomic fandoms:

Jackson's Diary

Castle Swimmer

School Bus Graveyard

Heartstopper

High Class Homos

Love Me to Death

Spicy Mints

Verses:

Hellaverse

Osemanverse

I post my art sometimes and make my own posts, but I mostly reblog things

He/they/it, chaotic bisexual, call me Goblin

I live in Japan currently, but was raised in Washington State and Peru. I'm Peruvian-Japanese-American 🫡 Kuzco is my cousin btw (The Emporor's New Groove)

I speak English, Spanish, some German, and I'm learning Japanese. I also know Morse code ...././._../._../___ :))

Pfp art is NOT mine!!

Hola, me llamo Goblin. Hablo inglés, español, un poco de alemán y un poquito de japonés.

Hallo, ich heiße Goblin, ich spreche Englisch, Spanisch, etwas Deutsch, und ein bisschen Japanisch.

私の名前はゴブリンです。 ごめんなさい英語を話せますか? (-_-;)

I'm a ✨minor✨

If you ever want to talk about any of these fandoms 👏DON'T👏BE👏AFRAID👏TO👏ASK👏ME👏

I LOVE getting asks and messages, I want to get to know my mutuals and other followers better

Also if you have any recommendations (smth to watch/read) please tell me!! I won't get to it immediately, but (probably) at some point, so don't be afraid to recommend smth <3

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk :]

[Insta: xx_midnight_candy_goblin_xx

Pinterest: Ken Okamoto (obviously I only post JD things, it has infested my mind)

Discord: (the name changes often sorry) princessunattainable

I have Twitter and TikTok but I barely ever use them lol]

I AM CRINGE BUT I AM FREE

DNI if you're T.R.A.S.H. TRANSPHOBIC RACIST APHOBIC SEXIST HOMOPHOBIC

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 2/20/2024

i don't usually use these writeups as a memory aid, but this week it's good bc most of last week was a blur of applying to jobs and playing breath of the wild

listening

i have several playlists that are several hours long with a couple different flavors of the really specific kind of instrumental music i need to do mass quantities of data entry. these are now all poisoned by horrible memories of my last two jobs so i'm slowly building new ones. a great candidate is OASIS, off the REDLINE soundtrack. REDLINE (2009, dir. Koike) is an extremely horny anime movie about driving really fast, being true to yourself in spite of corporate overlords, sports betting, and fucking.

i think this was a scene with background club or cafe music? electronica instrumental with a little bit of a groove and a very particular mid-aughts sound. you know when powder coating is extremely matte but also extremely sparkly? spotify.

-

reading

Samantha Cole (previously Vice, co-founder of 404 Media) has a beat that's focused on sex tech, sex work, deplatforming of sex work, and kink community beefs that manages to be both detached and very, very kind. i trust her to write about any kink community in a respectful and fair way, and even when she visibly doesn't understand the appeal of a kink she writes about them in a respectful and fair way. a great example of this is the furry adult baby diaper community being deplatformed by patreon.

but her most recent investigation, "can this shitty vibrator actually give you malware?" is fascinating. any job that can legitimately claim vibrators as a buisness expense and perform a teardown is fascinating to me.

what a tremendous and endlessly fascinating world we live in.

-

watching

there are many movies on tubi that i have like. name recognition of but have never actually seen, so i'm starting to work my way through things that aren't noir or obscure westerns. like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000, dir. Lee).

the practial effects in this movie are insane. the wirework is insane. wirework insane. this is the dreamiest and most beautiful chase/fight scene i've ever seen and they're zipping around a bamboo forest.

we're going to have to live with this imperfect screenshot ok this laptop is Extremely old. the interior sets often look like theater sets (complimentary). just a stunningly beautiful movie with the sickest action scenes you’ve ever seen. plot a little choppy but forgivable imo. i know this is regarded as one of the finest movies of all time, not just one of the finest martial arts movies of all times, so saying anything feels a little like giving it a dollar store plastic trophy. i liked it and i had fun. watching a critically acclaimed non-american good movie is good for the brain steeped in lackluster american westerns, i think.

-

playing

much like in real life, in breath of the wild i am refusing to do much towards the main quest and am mostly puttering around looking for shit to upgrade my outfits.

unlocked rudania, did not go inside.

what's with this little. sword graveyard??? on the northeastern edge of the caldera??? the only thing on that island is an octorok?? did it kill like eight guys???

finished richard scarey's tarreytown :) including that horrible rich guy who wanted me to kill some guardians for ??? reasons. i am pretty confident about killing hinox (is the plural of hinox, hinox?), wizzrobes, and most lizalfos if i can get the drop on em but i am Not confident about killing actively moving guardians without guardian arrows, which is an expensive way of doing business. due to reliably one-shotting the wizzrobes with revali's bow, i am running into the interesting problem of always having a glut of magical weapons. which leads me to go fuck around the extreme hot and cold areas those magic weapons are good for. and less fucking around the normie areas i actually want to fuck around.

got the good sword at thirteen hearts, i stopped short at twelve hearts gone and the deku tree called me a pussy. i unfontunately did not screenshot that. hey did you know there's a korok on the deku tree's head whose life's purpose seems to be riddles?

:(

and now for quite a lot of horse talk.

dodged like four lynels taking Ganon's horse up the northern edge of the map to get a pic of the leviathan.

caught the white horse, we are such pretty pretty princesses together. i think it's very funny that the gerudo fanciest weapons and hylian royal regalia look so similar. purple and gold eternal.

did you know if you feed your horse an endura carrot you get extra spurs???

i was looking for a 5 star speed horse but after catching and releasing four different solid black horses this is the best one (4 str, 4 speed, 5 stamina) i found. maybe I’ll shoot for a bright chestnut with lots of chrome for my speedy horse, the equine equivalent of a red convertible.

very funky conincidence on the grasslands behind the lord of the mountain's spring. not identical, bc the lead horse doesn't have facial markings, but what are the odds of that huh. i wish grays in this game didn't look so chalky and washed out, i love a gray horse in real life.

i think it's some bullshit that you have to fight your way into this spring, get told "go get a dragon scale", deal with all that, fight your way BACK into the spring, and then be presented with a Major Test of Strength shrine. c'mon just give it to me!!!

game continues to be very bad at spitting out riders next to horses or donkeys EXCEPT!!! for this doctor. i didn't know hyrule had traveling doctors! i quite honestly didn't think they had the techonology, given that the state of medicine in hyrule is very mortar and pestle based!

the game gave me a tooltip like "make friends with dogs! they'll lead you to treasure!" and i was like What but it does actually work, you just have to target them in the camera first and then feed them several hunks of meat. bonkers game. how many other goddamn mechanics are there that i've missed???

next steps: shrine hunting. i have like 50 out of 120 which is wild to me. i played this game two years ago, got to about a hundred shrines, and managed to forget where they all fucking are. yes my shrine sensor is always on. there's probably at least twenty in central hyrule, which is not a place i touched much on my list playthrough, also the last two memories i need are in there. i have filled out a good chunk of the compendium (completely filled the materials pages) but idk if i will be a completionist about it. there are so so so so so many weapons variants. i am cheating a bit and looking up the animals i missed (mostly a lot of bugs and fish) but one of the entries is for patricia, the royal sand seal. i would not have ever thought to take a picture of the named sand seal, i'm sorry game but that's a bit obtuse.

-

making

not much progress on the cross stitch or job fronts, but since i finally have a balcony, i planted peas and beans from @shiny-good-rock and basil from @morrak than have been languishing in a box for several years, the basil had an okay germination rate so my fingers are crossed re: peas and beans.

i am a bit annoyed about marigolds. maybe it's a bit too early for them here, or maybe they're not as popular as they were in the northeast? i tried like five different big box stores and indie nurseries, only one indie nursery had any and they were very pest-ridden. i would like marigolds, as friends for my tomatoes.

it is currently 11:40 PM CST as i type this so tomorrow i'll add something with a garden layout and what varieties i planted.

[watercolorfreckles]

Of Oak and Sparrow

(Part 2 of The Girl Called Sparrow)

Sparrow returned to the fallen oak tree one final time.

To her, it was a skeleton. A creaking spine wrapped in an armor of bark that, in the end, wasn't strong enough to keep the true monsters at bay.

The sleeping hill was a graveyard beneath the weight of the tree that once crowned it.

Its branches reached toward the sky like bony fingers. The wind whispered through its foliage to pluck down the browning decay. Those same leaves crunched beneath the sole of her boot. She imagined her faerie's hair muting into an earthy brown to match it.

Sparrow traced the scars in the exposed wood. Each mark splitting the stump was an open wound. Its roots and its core were a bleeding heart, severed from the rest of its great height and graceful limbs.

In the tree rings, she saw his fingerprint. Her Kind Oak. The fae who'd held her heart in his hands and treated it with gentleness.

Her tears soaked into the wood's cracks and grooves, fingers tightening around the acorn that promised her a chance at a future.

The encroaching winter drained the life of the forest away. When Sparrow left her home, it felt as a hollow corpse.

She walked until her feet ached and her body swayed with exhaustion. She sank down against the cover of a mossy knoll, eyelids begging for rest. But it would be of poor manner not to acknowledge her hosts.

Sparrow picked three long strands of grass and weaved them into a ring, testing it on her own finger before sliding it off and tucking it into the knot of a tree.

She spoke aloud to any fae that might be near. Listening. Waiting. "I apologize for my intrusion. I am merely passing through, and am most grateful for your hospitality as I take a night's rest. I left you a gift in the hole of that tree. I hope you take no offense to my presence."

Shivering even beneath the thick wool of her cloak, she let her eyelids drop closed as the night swallowed her up.

Sparrow awoke to a pale sun and frost on her lashes. Her breath formed clouds in the morning chill. Scrubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hand slipped into her pocket, seeking the familiar comfort of her Oak's acorn.

Her heart lurched. She checked again. It wasn't there.

Straightening, she scrabbled through the crust of frost coating the ground around her, searching with a despair that made her dizzy. "No- Where--"

"Tell me, I am dreadfully curious, what is so valuable about this acorn?" spoke a voice like crushed velvet.

Sparrow jolted, swiveling around. Her breath caught.

Before her was a fae that glistened like a winter star. His eyes held the glint of cold steel. A knife's edge, harrowing and beautiful all at once. The gently falling snow avoided him in its path.

Pinched between his moon-pale fingers, was her acorn.

Sparrow's heart gave another awful tug.

She reached for it before she could stop herself. The acorn disappeared into the fae's fist as his lips lifted into a flash of pearly teeth. A little too sharp and a little too amused. Something about it reminded her of the maw of a hungry cat.

Sparrow swallowed. She dropped to her knees. "Forgive me. You startled me."

"Such a pretty gift," the faerie murmured. He lifted his other hand, the ring she'd offered up wrapped around his index finger. Surely he was mocking her. It looked terribly simple against the porcelain of his skin. "It is refreshing to meet a human who still knows the old ways. Are you going to answer my question or do I need to repeat myself?"

Sparrow's fingers twisted in her lap. Her blood ran cold. "I need that acorn to resurrect one who is dear to me."

The fae hummed, holding up the acorn again and glancing it over. "This is magik born of the fae wilds."

Her stare tracked his hand as if he were carelessly handling glass. "I have no knowledge of its origin. Only that the tree this acorn fell from was tethered to a fae who could not leave its shadow. The tree was cut down. I need to plant that acorn to give him renewed life."

The fae's smile was that of a predator toying with its prey because it found the creature's helplessness against it adorable. He crouched in front of her, nimbly balanced on the balls of his arched feet.

His head tilted. "Give me your name and I'll return your precious acorn to you."

"That, I cannot give you," Sparrow said softly. "My acorn is no use to me if I am too intoxicated by your sway to plant it."

"What difference does it make?" The fae's cadence was the crackling of a candle flame; the sparks that rain down from a shooting star. "Even if you plant the seed, years will pass before it grows tall enough to harbor your fae in its shadow; a great many years longer than if this were an ordinary acorn. Magik born of the faerie realm behaves as the fae wilds do. Time is of little consequence there. A moment is stretched for decades.

"Humans age in an instant. What will your dear one think of you when time creases your face and steals your youth? What will happen when you fall away to dust and your love is trapped alone in the confines of a shadow?"

It took the taste of metal in her mouth to realize she'd bitten down on her lip. Her insides swam.

Her mother's voice was clear in her head:

Do not make dealings with the fae.

Follow the rules of fae etiquette.

Do not owe anything to the fae. They will always collect.

But if he could magik a better way... If she could see her love again...

Sparrow forced the fear from her voice. Fae hated weakness, her mind screamed. "Will you make a deal with me?"

The faerie's wicked smile split further across his perfect face. "I was hoping you'd ask."

Look at meeee, i posted twice in a little over one week

General Taglist: @pinned-to-the-wahl, @valiantlytransparentwhispers, @distance-does-not-matter, @redbircl, @lilaccatholic, @crazytwentythrees-deactivated, @thelazywitchphotographer, @chibicelloking, @lolafaiy, @thinkwrite5, @putridghost, @tobeornottobeateacher, @sunflower1000, @bouncyartist, @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen, @silverwhisperer1, @distractedlydistracted, @pensivespacepirate, @appleejuicee, @deflated-bouncingball  @maybe-a-cat42

 , @m0chik0furan, @mercurymomentum, @fairysprinkles, @vuvulia, @amongtheonedaisy, @rose-pinkie, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room, @scorpio-smiles, @inkygemuwu, @wolfeyedwitch, @thewhumpmeisterx3000, @ikiiryo, @moonquires, @lem-hhn, @fanastywhump, @smallangryfish, @ladybookworm @freefallingup13, @acaiaforrest, @a-blue-comedy , @puppyaddict, @talkingsperm, @qualitychaoslover, @deckofaces,@7eselt, @annablogsposts, @lunatic-moss-studio, @medusas-hairband

[recitedemise]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗯 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲'𝘀 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆. And it is excruciating. On his chest, one can trace its ugly mark, the brand less discoloration and more, unfortunately, a deep-grooved scar. It is unavoidable and impossible to ever miss. Similarly, the way it eats at him is obvious, too. Gale, especially at the start, when his condition, fresh and disorienting, was still abundantly new, the effects of the orb were frighteningly worse. At that time, he little knew how to quell it, that feeding off the Weave would balm the pain, and so for all those days and weeks of panic, he rotted and ached at a terrible pace. He had decayed. And he had bled. Gale's body oozed black, skin, especially at his casting arm, rupturing like cracks in terracotta. He tasted filth always, the bitterness of wasting flesh thick in his throat, nose perpetually leaking with the ink-dark of bleeding. He'd labored to breathe, a feeling like devouring maggots pulsing in his chest. In fact, at the lowest point by then, wallowing and stuck in his tower, Gale began to lose hair, his nails loose and cracking as he scrabbled at the floorboards, knees weak and pain bolting when he collapsed to the floor. He was a pitiful sight. And a worrying one. And even now, with the consumption of magical artefacts, one can still see the way he bows to the blight, heaving for breath when it takes his chest again, sweat at his temples and mouth gone dry. It's all-encompassing. The agony is chronic. It feels like being eaten, being hollowed to his barest self right from the inside. He's a vessel of magic, and the orb means to consume him down to his every last molecule, teeth bared, hackles raised, and appetite crushing. It's like--dying, stolen away to be but swallowed down whole, surrendering to the suck of a hungering vortex. He's unsightly. As well, too, as a burden, he thinks, to the very naked of his bones. But when someone hangs back, touches him despite his rot, he thinks, you shouldn't have to handle something like this. This mere shamble of a graveyard--he's so sorry to dirty their hands.

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[FOURTEEN]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

extra.

note: the black italics is Michael singing. The lyrics aren't in order though haha

"You guys out there don't mind if we play a cover right?" Michael calls out to the crowd. The crowd responds with loud cheers.

The guitar strum of 'Black Hole Sun' by Soundgarden starts to fall over the crowd's ears. The crowd cheers in delight at the prospect of this particular cover. From the sidelines as you watch the band; Graveyard Soldiers, your openers for the night play, you couldn't help but get into the groove of Michael's captivating voice.

"In my eyes"

Michael, last name unknown, he keeps it mysterious like that; is the band's front line singer, and electric guitarist. Last member, and from what Kyle told you was the whole reason this band (Graveyard Soldiers, not your band) nearly didn't happen.

"In disguises no one knows"

Pete Thelman, back up singer and plays the bass guitar, you and him had a fun time talking about what were the best bass guitarists of all time earlier. Second member, he was awkward, but overall a refreshing person to talk too.

"Lies the snake"

Henrietta Biggle, lead guitarist and sometimes keyboardist. She kept to herself mainly, but loved to talk to about music with you and Nichole. First member, she started this band to raise money to help find her missing brother. You remember the day he went missing, your band even helped pitch in with money before.

"Boiling heat.. summer stench"

Firkle Smith, drummer; absolute menace. He was scary, intimidating in a way you'd never thought was possible. He was nice, polite when needing to be but you know what they say about how the eyes are windows to the soul... He was the third member to join.

"Call my name"

From the corner of your eye you can spot Kyle walking over towards you, "They're good yeah?" He tilts his head towards the Graveyard Soldiers.

"Yeah! I'm really loving their style, I've heard their eps and now that they got an album, I'm excited to listen to more of their stuff." You gush.

"And I'll hear you scream again."

Kyle hums and you see his face become more serious, "Stan told me that Cartman's worming his way into causing havoc for you, that true Y/n?"

"Won't you come?"

Sighing, you look away from him and back towards the stage, "I really don't know. Cartman's never really interacted with me too much before, now he's tagging me in an update about his podcast? He even called me like four days ago. I'm sure it was a misclick, considering I say his name pop up for maybe three seconds before it disappeared."

"Cold and damp"

"God I hate him so much. You'd think he'd leave us alone, but he uses our band as a way to gather more fame for himself. Miserable bastard."

"For honest men"

You've never really seen Kyle badmouth anyone, sure for Cartman it's warranted and you've heard of the weird friendship they used to have, before it fell apart suddenly in high school. However it's still a bit surprising to you, seeing as Kyle makes it a point to be amicable towards everyone, even if he's not the biggest fan of them.

"In my youth, I pray to keep"

"It's fine, Kyle. He's a dickhead sure and he's the world's biggest attention seeker but that's all he really is. An attention seeker. No matter what he's going to do tonight, I'm not letting his bad mood ruin one of our best nights."

Kyle sets his hand on your shoulder and squeezes, "If he continuously causes trouble for you, let me know. You've helped me out a lot Y/n, let me return the favor. Besides, beating up Cartman is an easy task, it's refreshing seeing him get knocked down a peg."

"No one sings like you anymore...

Black hole sun"

Kyle removes his hand from your shoulder and you can still feel the warmth of his hand. "Thanks Ky, I doubt I'll need you to go extreme like that but if he becomes an even bigger thorn in my side, you'll be the first to know."

"And wash away the rain"

A bemused smirk dawns Kyle's face, "First? To know? Over Nichole?"

You chuckle, "Okayyy.. so maybe not the exact first, but it's the thought that counts? Right?"

"Won't you come?"

"Yeah, maybe when you're not lying.. miss L/n," Kyle teases,.

Your face holds one of mock annoyance as Kyle teases you and as Graveyard Soldiers do the instrumental part of the song you and Kyle just stand there, looking at each other.

"Hang my head... drown my fear... till you all just disappear"

"They're ending soon, make sure to do your last tune in." Kyle softly says.

"Won't you come"

"Got it captain!" You head further in towards the back to quick test your guitars, leaving Kyle to himself.

"And wash away the rain?"

Kyle turns to the band performing as Michael repeats the last lines of the post chorus.

You had decided to not bother checking twitter nor Cartman's podcast episode during the set change, the whole band decided against it, not for a lack of curiosity, but considering set changes were so hectic. You were curious, the nausea feeling of not knowing the answer to any form of a question of "why" eating at you.

You weren't even sure if Cartman had gone live, you doubted it, the crowd was just having a fun time talking to each other from what you saw when you peeked around the curtains earlier. Some people were on there phones but you doubt it was for Cartman.

In all honesty, you didn't need the stress of Cartman in your mind. What you needed was to give South Park the best god damn show you've ever done. You've grown a lot since your last big performance here, hell the whole band has grown.

So instead of giving Cartman another thought, you focused your mind on the set change.

Set changes were annoying, it's why Clyde actually hated having opening bands or opening for other bands like you have done in the past. Of course, opening bands were good in your eyes, it paved the way to allowing the crowd to experience new bands or genres.

"Dude, where did you put my drumsticks?" Clyde asked one of the stage workers in passing.

"Clyde. They're on your seat on stage." The worker replied, you could hear the disbelief in their tone. You couldn't help but feel bad for them.

With that, the worker left and Clyde was standing there like an idiot, but he was your guys' idiot and you had to let him do his own thing.

However, Clyde had a point to complain, the backstage workers going insane as they try and get everything put together properly did take a toll on you even. The quick instrument check before they were put up on the stage by the stage crew. Lights crew making sure they'd have no problem.

You could see Craig was munching on some crackers, having the time of his life knowing all he had to do was go on stage and take pictures of the band and the crowd and then call it a night.

Beside him, Nichole was going insane on making sure the stage looked absolutely perfect even though it'd be too late to change anything right now.

"Y/n! You don't think the stage is ugly right? I've been staring at this one sheer cloth placement that Craig took a pic for me, bless him, anyhow for like twenty minutes. It just looks off to me." Nichole rushed over to you, a picture on her phone that Craig took.

You look down at the picture, "Nicky.. the cloth is fine, besides Craig took the photo at angle look," You gently grabbed her phone and tilted it to the right, that way the picture was centered.

"Oh thank you, I was nervous that it was off center this entire time, I was about to jump on stage to fix it. Good thing I didn't it was just Craig's poor photography skills."

Craig looked at the two of you with a pointed look of "What the fuck" written all over his face; "You know, how about you guys find a NEW photographer then."

"Nooooo! Craig I'm sorryyyyyy." Nichole drawled. And the two started going back and forth.

Kyle looking lost as he ran out of things to do but you could see stress and worry marks all over his face as he ran through every scenario in which the band suddenly had the worst experience performing. Stan not caring about anything, he was really just taking in everything while he was doing last minute vocal warm ups.

You hadn't bothered to say anything to Kyle as he was trying to do something; not because you didn't want to but because you're not even sure Kyle would hear you. Whenever he got into this stressed manager mode (or as Clyde would call it; normal Kyle Broflovski), he tended to tune people out.

Tweek was playing with Craig's camera, or.. a spare. You doubt Craig would ever let Tweek handle his camera. There were three things Craig loved in the world; Tweek, his guinea pigs, and his camera.. but no matter how much Craig loved Tweek that camera did cost a whole lot.. and it was Craig's profession.

The lights were dimming out.. which meant go time. Everyone else paused and got into show business mode. You shook the nerves out of your body. No matter how many performances you did, you doubt that you'd ever go on stage without some sort of performance anxiety.

"Good luck guys! Have fun out there!" You hear Kyle call out as you all start to head out onto stage.

"You too!" Clyde responds before smacking his forehead with his hand.

From the podcast studio, Cartman and Heidi go live.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @frogindisguise @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @s0l4riss @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[kuwdora]

The Locked Tomb Fanvid Recs

I have a few fanvid recs for you @sargassostories! Fanvids for book fandoms are incredibly special because the starting point is different than when you already have video to start with. The creativity of book fandom vids knows no bounds.

💀 💀 💀 💀

Graveyard Girlfriend by livrelibre. 2:26. This vid uses video footage of book reviewers and cosplayers! It’s so fucking delightful and the song choice is reallly on point. It's a lot of fun.

Necromancin’ Dancin’ by livrelibre. 3:55. I have been in love with this song forever and thought it would fantastic for these books and livrelibre went and did it! This vid is a collection amazing fan art and animatic of TLT and is really grooving with the beat.

Harrow the Ninth by resurrecho. 3:34. This is a fake trailer for the first book, using Kristen Stewart’s film Underwater as a grounding piece, but it also includes some Gregorian chanty music for Extra Vibe Effect, plus some other KStew films to build out some other character elements from the book.

barbie world by absternr. 0:50. This is about Alecto. I laughed so hard I was crying. Nothing I can say will fully prepare you. 🐄

[intubatedangel]

Code Red - Conclusion

I got a bit carried away with this one. It’s a long chapter, and I did consider splitting it into two, but honeslty felt it wouldn’t work as well in two pieces, it all fits together as a single unit. I really hope it is worth the read, but can’t say much else without spoilers.

I’ll be taking a break from the series after this, I’ve got some non-resus stories I want to try and write while I’m still in the groove, and I need to emotionally recover from such a heavy story.

Story Index  

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

* * * 

The sky was shrouded with a layer of grey cloud and rain pattered down, drumming lightly on the old slates. It wasn't too hard a shower, spring was more a time of drizzle and persistent light rain, rather than howling storms. Carl watched large drops splash on the ground beneath a crack in the aging cast iron gutter as he sat on the old wooden bench underneath the lean-to porch, situated next to a side door of the small, old church. Anna had often told him that she wasn't religious, but in this part of the world that didn't particularly mean much. In small villages with no other amenities beyond perhaps a pub or inn, the church was simply the place where community events took place. Festivals. Jubilee celebrations.

Weddings.

Funerals.  

Carl shivered as the memory intruded upon him again. He still hadn't been able to shake free of the images, despite counselling. Anna, laid out on the trauma bed, lifeless. Her utterly unmoving heart held between his hands. The sound too. A screaming monitor just behind him. Sarah's sobs as the young nurse cracked.

A hand on his shoulder broke him free of the grim reverie with a jump. Carl looked up to see Roger stood beside him. The nurse gazed down at him with a look in his eyes. Not quite pity, more of understanding with a sad element of helplessness. Which was more than true. They'd talked about it at length on more than one occasion since that day. Roger's presence in Trauma 3 wouldn't have changed anything, and every idea the two of them had come up with to combat the recurrent memories had been a bust. The only thing left to try was deeper, more intensive therapy.

He just had to get through today. Maybe doing that would help all by itself. Carl gave Roger a nod and pushed himself to his feet, throwing off the past and coming fully back to the present. They both stepped up to lean against different thick oak pillars, gazing out through the haze of the rain at the church's graveyard. Anna's adopted family had been a fixture of the village for untold years. There were generations of Swifts buried here.

Roger blew out a breath. "Do you know what you're going to say?" He asked.

Carl nodded, slipping a hand into the inside pocket of his black suit, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "I don't know if I'll be able to though."

"You will." The nurse said, making it seem like a simple statement of fact. A moment later he stood straighter, looking out at the road leading down to the church. Carl followed Roger's gaze, quickly locking on the long black car as it passed behind the trees. Roger turned to him, his hand landing on Carl's shoulder again. "Here she comes. We should get inside."

* * *

THE DAY OF THE ATTACK

Stelling had relented to Carl's request for 5 more minutes with a small nod, easing back from the bed to leave him to it. He turned to look at Mark, or more particularly the rapid infuser.

"Go ahead with another full round of blood products."

"This'll be all we have." The nurse warned.

"Jones will be here." Carl told him. Not that it would matter if they didn't get Anna back by the time the red bags were empty.

Through the conversation Carl's hands had continued to squeeze Anna's heart, palms and fingers pumping the otherwise inactive muscle. He feel the blood in the chambers, a glance at the monitor telling him that Anna's blood pressure, above the aortic clamp at least, was almost at a normal level. They, He, just needed that heart in his grasp to beat on its own.

He glanced at the clock. 2 of those 5 minutes had slid by already. It was so hard to tell time when everyone was so quiet. And when there was so little else to do. It also meant it had been 4 since the last round of adrenaline.

"Get me another round of epi." He said to Trish. "Inject it directly into her heart."

It was a desperate measure. It was a more desperate time. This was already one round beyond the usual maximum. She'd probably bled a few rounds out before they stopped the worst bleeding. As a justification for breaking protocol, it wasn't the best. However, the protocol was based on evidence. Any epi beyond the maximum showed no clear difference to outcomes. But if, technically, that maximum amount hadn't truly made it into her system, maybe giving her one more would make a difference.

Carl kept up the compressions while Trish filled the syringe, and stepped up beside him. "Right in there." He indicated with his finger, while still compressing. He was pointing just below where the coronary arteries branched from the aorta, and did his best to keep Trish’s target still as he made sure blood still flowed. The sheer size of the aorta would mean some, maybe even most of the drug would be sent elsewhere, but it also meant the whole heart itself would receive a decent dose at the same time.

Carl desperately hoped it would be enough.

He watched Trish guide the point of the needle towards the indicated point. Her hands were tightly controlled, not even a single tremor. The needle pierced the aorta just above the ventricle, sliding in just a tiny distance. Trish held the barrel with one hand, keeping the tip of the needle where it needed to be, and eased the plunger in with the other. Carl's massage pushed the drug into her system, and her heart.

Trish extracted the needle, stepping clear of Anna's chest, limiting any potential to accidently introduce an infection, in the increasingly vain hope that Anna would survive long enough for that to be a concern. Carl had hoped for an immediate response to the adrenaline, but Anna's heart didn't react.

Come on baby. Come on. Come back to me. Come back to me baby.

He repeated variations on that refrain in his head as he stared at her face.

He never even noticed the moment he started saying it out loud.

"Carl....Carl!"

Everything looked hazy, until he blinked away his tears. As his vision cleared he became aware of everything.

Sarah was sobbing. She'd detached the ambubag and dropped it next to Anna's head. The monitor behind him continued to scream, Anna was still asystolic. Her heart refused to even twitch. It laid there in his hands, lifeless, just like the rest of her body.

The surgeons had stopped working. He raised his head, to see Jones stood inside the trauma room, a large bag slung over one arm. His other was wrapped around Lucy as she buried her face in his shoulder. Trish laid her hand on Carl's elbow. He couldn't look at her.

Instead, his gaze drifted towards Stelling. He didn't expect it, but she looked broken. Her eyes glistened with her own tears. "Carl, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She took a shuddering breath. "It's been 35 minutes. I...I have to call it." She looked at the clock, one hand gripping part of the sheets in a knot. "Time..." Her voice cracked. "Time of death, 04:17"

* * *

Anna was able to feel Carl's compressions. But not much else. Her abdomen no longer existed to her senses. She did not feel her lungs inflating. The pulses from those compressions had slipped beyond her. She only felt the physical squeezing of her heart by his hands. And even that was fading away from her.

Please don't stop.

Her mental voice had barely the strength of a whisper.

Don't let me go.

She felt so insignificant. She tried to cling to that feeling of her heart being massaged, but it too was beginning to fade. Even though she was in a lightless void, a greater darkness seemed to be drawing in around her.

The squeezing of her heart stopped. Not like her sense of it faded away. It simply stopped.

They had stopped.

No...

She whimpered as that final darkness started to rush in at her.

* * *

Carl's world was ending. Tears tracked down his face, soaking into his mask. He looked at her blank face, her empty eyes.

She can't be gone.

But she was. Her heart, cradled in his hands, lay totally still.

He heard others crying around him, in a far off, disconnected way. He couldn't move, his body frozen.

She's gone. Anna's gone.

* * *

I'm so sorry Carl

The rushing darkness was close to snuffing her out completely. Close to erasing everything she was. Her memories of the past. Her feelings in the present. Her hopes for the future.

No.

All those dreams of times with Carl. Of love. Family. Life.

Not like this.

She wasn't pleading.

She was pissed.

I won't leave him! You hear me! I will NOT go!

Anger had never really come easily to her. It had always seemed like a waste of energy.

Now, she raged, pulling on every memory, every emotion. Every dream.

You think I'm just going to let you take all of that from me?!

She roared at the eternal darkness.

FUCK YOU!

She drew all her rage into a single point and cast it out like a supernova, a brilliant flash in the darkness.

* * *

Anna's heart twitched in his hands. For a long moment he thought he had imagined it. Then it quivered, wriggled, and began to squirm. Carl's head snapped around to the monitor, that persistent whine had gone, replaced by the two tone alarm, and a coarse v-fib was juddering along the screen.

"Charge to 50!" He called out, spinning around to grab the wand like paddles.

"Carl..." He heard Stelling saying something, but he blocked her out. Thankfully Trish had set and charged the defib.

Carl turned to back to Anna, plunging the paddles into her open chest, placing them around her shivering heart.

"Clear!" He shouted, even though no one was touching her. They'd all stood back after giving up.

He pressed the buttons.

Anna's heart spasmed once as the shock jolted through, the muscles throughout her chest giving a tiny jerk. Time almost stopped. Anna's heart fell still. For an agonising, endless moment, it stayed still.

Then it moved.

A co-ordinated contraction, first the atria, then the ventricles.

The monitor bleeped, once, twice, three times. It continued bleeping.

And Anna's heart continued beating.

* * *

She's alive.

Carl finally breathed again, his brain buzzing as thoughts ran into one another. But that was the most important one.

Anna's alive!

"Get the vest! We need to cool her down!" He shouted. Her body was alive, he needed to keep her brain that way too. He looked beside him to Edwards, wordlessly asking for an update.

"Renal artery is grafted, it'll hold for long enough." She said. "We can pack the rest and give her a few hours at least." She said, with a relieved sigh.

"Keep that infuser going, just like you have been." Carl told Mark. It wasn't much of an apology for his earlier forcefulness, but the nurse nodded, his expression offering forgiveness.

"Carl." It was Stelling again. "You need to leave her to us."

"Not yet."

"Now." She didn't shout, but her voice held the same unyielding command he often used. Unsurprising really. He'd learned it from her. "I can forgive your actions so far. But it's time to step aside." She held his gaze for a moment, then looked down at Anna. "We'll do everything we can. I promise."

A small part of his mind snarled at that. She had literally declared the love of his life dead. But he knew the senior doctor well. Where there was real hope, she would fight for her patients. Anna had that hope now.

Finally, Carl stepped back from the bed. His knee's trembled, and he had to place a hand on the crash cart to steady himself for a moment. The last hour had been a chaotic, terrifying, adrenaline rush. With Anna back, and nothing left for him to do, it finally started to hit him. He pulled off the glasses, mask, and gloves, letting them drop to the floor as the nurses followed their orders. He only had eyes for Anna.

Before the bed got too busy he slipped around to the top of the bed, next to Sarah. The nurse was still taking shaky breaths, but she had reattached the ambu-bag. She eased to one side for him, letting him close enough to lean down over Anna's head.

"I love you Anna Swift." He breathed, as he laid a quick gentle kiss on her forehead. "I love you."

He stood straighter, moving out of the way as the nurses arranged the cooling vest. The surgeons were working both sites, packing sterile gauze into her chest and abdomen and preparing to cover the sites temporarily before they took her to the operating theatre. They left the aortic clamp in place for now. He watched on as the whole team worked together to gently lift her up enough to slide the vest underneath her, extracting her shredded clothing at the same time.

He could feel himself trembling, the shock ramping up as he found himself unable to take his eyes off the blood soaked bundle that had been dumped on the floor. He jumped when Stelling put her hand on his arm. "Carl." She said quietly, the stony voice of his boss replaced by the compassion of a friend. "Go and get cleaned up. We'll let you know if anything changes." He struggled to nod, but the comforting squeeze Stelling gave his arm helped.

His legs felt like lead, and there was a constant ringing in his ears. He had to keep glancing at the monitor to confirm it wasn't an alarm as he backed out of the trauma room. Though the windows he watched as they got the vest wrapped around Anna's body and switched the ambu bag for a ventilator. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but he finally dragged himself down the hall enough to take her from his view.

* * *

He shuffled down the corridor, pushing through the doors and heading for the staff room. He ignored all of the stares at his bloody clothes. All the questions from nurses and doctors. The words themselves didn't penetrate, but it was clear they knew now that it was Anna in trauma 3. His lack of response probably didn't help them, but he simply couldn't.

He finally made it to the staff room. He trudged to his locker, fingers refusing to cooperate as he manipulated the lock. Eventually he pulled it open. A change of clothes hung there, but he ignored them. Instead, his hands went to his jacket, finding a small box inside one of the pockets. His hand clamped around it, pulling it out.

It was all too much. He staggered back until he managed to brace his hand on one of the sofas, then he sank down until he sat on the floor. His mind was spinning beyond his, beyond anyone’s control. He'd come so close to losing her. He still might.

 He wept.

 He didn't know how many people came through. They said things to him. Gave comforting squeezes on his shoulders. An occasional one sided hug. Some sat by him for a time. It all just passed him by. He simply stared at the bank of lockers. At one in particular. Anna's. Daylight started shining through the lone window, casting a wedge of light across the lockers. To his perception it seemed to jump across lockers in small movements as the sun rose. The rest of the time all he saw was Anna laying on the landing covered in blood. Anna mouthing three words to him. Anna staring past him. Anna with a tube shoved down her throat. Anna receiving deep compressions. Anna with her chest open and her heart in his hands.

Finally, someone managed to break through to him. They had been sat beside him for a while. And he'd been vaguely aware of a conversation between the one next to him and someone else. He just wanted them to go away. To leave him alone. But they wouldn't. The person moved to kneel in front of him.  

"Carl. Come on mate." He said, shaking Carl's shoulder, first gently then more aggressively. "Don't make me slap you."

Carl blinked, his eyes finally moving to look at Roger.

The nurse let out a breath. "Good. Listen. She's out of surgery. She's still with us. You hear me? She's still with us."

Carl tried to reply, but his mouth was dryer than the Sahara. He opted for a nod.

"That's it. They're gettin' her situated in the ICU, but you're going to have to change before they let you in, yeah?"

Carl glanced down at himself. The blood, Anna’s blood, on his clothing had dried, turning to a coppery colour. He gave another nod. Roger stood, and held out a hand, helping to haul Carl to his feet. Pain shot through his back and legs. The physical sensations helped to pull Carl back together more than the words. He must have winced or groaned.

"Yeah, 6 hours sat on the floor will do that to you." The nurse said, trying for a bit of levity.

It had been that long? Roger kept him steady as Carl found his feet. He finally parted his hands. The small box had left deep indentations in his palms, but he kept it from view. He started towards his still open locker.

"I'll get those. You get into the shower."

Carl's knees protested, but he took a step. He clapped a hand on Roger's shoulder and gave him a nod. He tried to say something but couldn't find the words. He just nodded again.

The nurse reached up and mirrored Carl's gesture. "It's ok mate. I know."

Carl slowly made his way to the shower, not letting the small box out of his grasp, as awkward as it made the process.

* * *

Carl sat beside the ICU bed. Machines whirred and whooshed and chirped around him. But he could only look at the figure on the bed. Anna looked a mess. But an alive mess. The ET tube was still held in her mouth by the tube holder, and she was wrapped up in the cooling vest. He could just see the bandages through the translucent material, taped over her chest and abdomen. But her skin had colour to it, her lips were pink.

The neurologist had been to examine her, but the findings were inconclusive. There was some damage. She'd been in cardiac arrest for more than half an hour. Nobody was getting through that unscathed. But at this point they had no way to tell just what had been affected, or how bad it was. The EEG monitor was encouraging though. A halo of electrodes ringed her hairline, the wires running to the screen that showed good steady spikes. Neurology wasn't his department, he couldn't interpret them to any significant degree, but he knew one thing. Spiky brain waves meant she wasn't brain dead.

A nurse was fluttering around the machines, checking readings, adjusting levels. Carl said nothing while she was there. He simply held Anna's hand. It chilled his fingers a little, with the vest covering her completely, but he could withstand that. Eventually the nurse wrote one last thing on the chart, and with a small smile, she slipped out of the room. Carl watched her go. Then his hand slipped into his pocket.

"I'm sorry." He said to Anna, almost pretending she wasn't unconscious. "I lied to you, earlier." He took a shuddering breath as he pulled out the small box. He shifted her hand, exposing her fingers, and cradled it as he placed the box half in his hand, half in hers. "About the accountants."

He sighed. He could feel the tears prickling his eyes again. "My grandfather. He did leave me a trust, but they didn't need managed. Not today. Or yesterday, I guess." He said with a chuckle that almost became a sob. "He left me a trust that I was only to use for three things. Education. A home. And..."

Carl looked up at Anna's face. Her beautiful face. His heart ached, desperate to see those eyes open.

"And a ring." He whispered, gently opening the small box.

Inside laid a gold band, wide, but not excessively so. With a series of small stones set into the band itself, forming a palindrome of ruby, sapphire, diamond, sapphire, ruby.

He'd seen her admiring it in the window of the jewellers. Seen her wide eyes and radiant smile. That reaction told him everything he needed to know. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. And that ring was the perfect one for his perfect partner.

"So please. Anna, baby I'm begging you. Please wake up so I can put it on your finger."

* * *

13 MONTHS LATER

Gravel crunched beneath the wheels of the black car as it made its way down to the church. Flowers adorned the trees that lined the trail, bouquets of pink and white. It was a long trail, almost frustrating by the time it pulled up outside the main door. Anna struggled to contain her excitement as her dad stepped out and rounded the back, coming up to her door and helping her out of the vehicle. Anna hid the wince, the scars were still a little tight, but she could bare it, especially today.

"Are you ready Petal?" He asked, looking her in the eyes.

She nodded, struggling to find any appropriate words, before realising that words were mostly meaningless. She reached out and pulled him into a hug.

He chuckled. "I'm so proud of you." He said into her hair. His voice was thick, heavy with love, true pride, and tinged with the memory of how she was a year ago. " Let's go." He whispered, as they both heard the first few notes from the organ.

As they walked into the church Anna was comforted by the steadfast presence of her father. She might have been adopted, but he was her father. Her hand laid on his arm gently, but he held it firm, ready, just in case. It had been a long year, and she was still recovering. The tingles and numbness in her right side could still come unexpectedly.

They stopped just inside the outer door, beneath the stone vaulting. Literal centuries of brides had stood right there, waiting for the right moment in the music. Trish was there, along with Anna's niece and a young boy, barely even 4 years old, one of Carl's cousins. Trish was already crying, a huge smile on her face. She approached tentatively, but Anna accepted the hug without tottering. It was Trish's turn to be unable to speak. She pulled back, nodded, still with the big smile, and hugged Anna again.

"You're going to make me late..." Anna whispered to her.

Trish finally retreated with a shared grin, and the organ music launched into the main theme. Trish shepherded the children around the corner, leaving Anna and her father in the vestibule, waiting for the cue. Her dad laid his hand upon hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Let's go kiddo."

The music came around to 'the moment' and Anna stepped onto the aisle confidently. She looked around, greeted by the sight of so many familiar faces. Plenty of family, hers and Carl's. Colleagues and friends, the line there was pretty blurred. She didn't want to consider the bill for agency staff the hospital was taking. They hadn't complained though. Perhaps it was the trusts idea of a wedding gift. Even Dr Stelling was there.

It didn't matter how many times Anna told the trauma lead that she understood her actions, the senior doctor was endlessly apologetic. It was genuinely becoming annoying. Part of Anna wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her while screaming 'You don't need to apologise again! I would have done the same thing!' She was glad Stelling had allowed Carl to give her that last jolt, but...ugh, I'm over it, why aren't you, she thought.

The steady arm suddenly felt firmer, and Anna caught herself. She hoped nobody noticed. That was the biggest lingering issue. If she got distracted her mind could float off and leave her limbs behind. Totally normal, for someone who had been dead for half an hour, apparently. In time it would hopefully get better. It was still irritating.

But it did force her to focus, and what a sight it was. Carl stood before the altar, in a frankly ...mmmmfff... fitting suit. She was sure she hadn't forgotten a word, an embarrassingly common occurrence in the last year. For once she knew what she saw was beyond such petty things as words.

Many would say it was a pretty standard suit. But with Carl in it... How do you clothe the perfect man?

He'd been the first face she truly saw when she awoke. He'd held her as emotions pulled her apart and she dragged herself back together again, a beacon when communication was almost impossible. He'd held her arm as she took her first steps on wasted legs, steadied her as she relearned balance. He read her favourite books aloud to ease her off to sleep despite the beeps and bongs of various monitors. He had taken her home, to their home, and cradled her when the nightmares came. As she gradually returned to who she once was, he was there. Always waiting, ironically she reflected, patiently, until she was ready for the next step.

It had been a long year, and at times it was terribly hard. But it only served to deepen their love for each other. The ring was on her finger throughout. And, once her recovery permitted, they'd been able to have some moments of ... fun. Considering they were both employed in the medical profession, they ought to have seen it coming. They'd both been terrified when the doctor asked them to come and double check some results from a routine post-'event' exam.

Anna's hand drifted towards her belly, where the bump was only just starting to show, and Carl's joined it as she alighted the small set of steps up to the altar. His fingers lingered for only a moment though, they had ceremonial obligations to fulfil. Anna watched the embrace between Carl and her father, and realised just how bonded the two had become. If, in some bizarro universe she ever tried to divorce Carl, she had no idea who her father would choose.

Roger's presence behind Carl was also an element she would never have foreseen. They'd been colleagues, sure enough. But something around the 'event' had changed their relationship on a fundamental level. Men. They were weird.

And then Carl took her hands, and it was just the two of them. Nobody else mattered. The vicar was giving his spiel, and Anna was slyly glad she could blame the 'event' for her distraction when it came to the parts that actually needed her input. The truth was she didn't care for anything else but him. His eyes. His smile. Him, standing there before her. It took her a moment to realise what the vicar had said, until Carl unfolded a piece of paper. His voice barely wavered as he read out the handwritten vows, and Anna's heart became physically, metaphorically, and eternally, his.

THE END

* * *

There we go, didn’t want to say this upfront in case of spoiling it, but I hope I made some people reading cry as much I did when writing. It’s the ending I always had in mind but it was so intense to write. Hard but exhillirating. I was up to 2:30am doing the first draft because I was so into it. I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed this series, and I will be back with more stories from Anna and Carl eventually.

[emmymaehereeeeee]

Ghosts and Stuff!

summary: Austin and you are trying to decorate for Halloween but when you are pregnant it can make decorating a bit harder, you also deeming Austin's decorations as boring. Which then ensues in a spontaneous trip to the dollar tree.

word count: 1,079

warning: none

Sitting on the front porch you watched as Austin placed out the pumpkins on the porch, adjusting them to your liking. “Well baby, think we are all set.” Austin reached over for the cloth ghost and hung it on the small hook. The two of you had always decorated for every holiday- from St Patrick’s day to Christmas the two of you would always go full out.

“I just don’t know Aus, just something about this seems kind of bland.” You stood up from the rocking chair and nudged one of the pumpkins with your foot. “I mean four pumpkins? Really?”

Austin’s eyes followed your foot, “Hey easy, mama.” He walked over to you, “Well it isn’t exactly easy when the decorating queen herself isn’t exactly helping. 

“I am literally carrying your child.” You playfully scoffed, smacking him on the arm. 

“Oh wow, I bet you will use that same excuse at Christmas time.” He teased, rubbing his arm with his opposite hand.

Gazing across the lawn you looked at the minimal decorations, “Honey you wouldn’t be opposed to say- going to the Dollar Tree and buying some last-minute decorations would you?” You grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently, “Please?” 

Austin nodded and smiled, “Alright, angel.” He stepped inside and grabbed the car keys off the end table, “You ready?”

Nodding your head, you allowed him to help you into the car. Resting a hand on your bump you groaned softly, “Good grief.” You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, Austin paused and gripped the door.

“What? Are you alright? Is the baby coming, no the baby can’t be coming- wait can the baby-”

You moved your hand from your bump to his hand, “Baby, I am okay. The baby just kicked, our little one likes to move and groove.” You giggled, smiling at him.

Austin furrowed his eyebrows, “Hey, you need to be nice to your momma. She’s the one that cooks all the good food in this family.” He looked up at you and smiled, “Problem solved.” You smiled and shook your head, Austin shut the door and walked over to his side of the car. Settling into the car, he shifted it into reverse and pulled out of the driveway, “What exactly are we looking for, honey?”

“Pumpkins, witches, ghosts, spiders! Maybe even a few headstones?” You rambled off random decorations as Austin drove towards the store. Pulling into the parking lot, he shifted the car into park. 

“Oh I like the headstones, we can probably do a graveyard scene!” He unlocked his door and pushed it open. “What do you think about that one?” He clambered out and shut the door behind him. Opening your door, he helped you to your feet. 

“I like it as long as it isn’t anything too scary, I do not want to scare any of the kids away.” Taking his hand you walked into the store, and immediately you were met with the array of different cheaply made decorations. You grabbed a cart and began to make your way through the aisles. “Oh honey, can you grab that bowl?” You pointed towards the orange bowl with white bones sprinkled across the orange exterior. “We need a new candy bowl.” 

“You say that every year, but alright.” He grabbed the bowl and stuck it in the cart, he also grabbed a few styrofoam headstones and tossed those into the cart as well. 

The two of you walked through the aisles, you stopped to grab a few bags of candy. Bending over you stopped, and spread your legs apart. “I can do it.” You mumbled to Austin as you bent down again, your bump was not making this an easy task. 

“You got it, baby.” Austin leaned on the cart as he watched you struggle. “You sure you don’t want my help? I can grab it for you, I don’t want to take my pregnant girlfriend to the hospital because she fell over trying to grab a bag of candy.” 

You sighed and slowly stood yourself up, “Fine, but this does not make me incapable. I am just struggling a tiny bit.” 

Austin smiled and leaned down to grab the bags, “Of course not, sweetheart.” He placed the bags into the cart and pushed the cart further down the aisle. “What if we got some of those like giant spider things?” He asked, one hand wrapped around your back, the other pushing the cart.

Stopping abruptly you grabbed one and held it up, “Imagine this baby, middle of the night this bad boy comes crawling into our room, what do you do?”

Austin paused for a moment, “That’s not our house anymore that is the spider’s house.” 

You started laughing, “Are you serious?” 

“Y/N I won’t even kill a small spider in the bathroom, what makes you think that I’ll kill one the size of a small child?”

Shaking your head, “I can’t believe you would- really, Austin it is a spider!” You teased, pushing it into his face. 

Austin grabbed the spider and tossed it into the basket, “Quit it.” He grabbed about six bags of fake cobwebs and tossed them into the cart as well. 

“Why do we need so many cobwebs?” You asked, picking up and setting down two of them. 

“Well, we are at the dollar tree, sweetheart. We don’t have a whole lot of options here.” The two of you walked towards the checkout, “Oh baby, what if we got like one of those yard signs that say ‘Trick or Treat?’ that would be cute, wouldn’t it?” 

You glanced over at the sign he was talking about, “Ooh I like that.” 

Austin grabbed one of the signs and began to unload the cart onto the checkout stand. Awkward small talk with the seventeen-year-old cashier ensued, she bagged your items and the two of you quickly made your way out of the store. 

“Now are you going to help me set all of this up or are you going to sit and watch me?” He asked as he unloaded all of the items into the trunk of the car. 

“You and I both know good and well that if I tried to help you would throw a hissy fit.” You teased as you adjusted yourself in the front seat. 

“Okay, okay, you’ve got me there.” He closed the trunk and got into the driver’s seat. “Let’s go put up all these ghosts and stuff.”

[snowychicken]

I don't think I have anyone to talk about this album with but I DO have a shitty unpopular tumblr blog SO

I've said it before and I'll say it again: NBT knows how the fuck to start an album

I ran into the wall multiple times during Excuse Me

I think Neon Brother could fix me if I gave it the chance

I'm still upset about that lyric I misheard though

Itch brought me to my fucking knees you don't understand

By the end of Lover, Please Stay I was curled up in a ball on the floor on the verge of tears

And then the intro to Drawing Pins came on and I was like "well, guess I gotta groove now"

I WANT YOU *SLAM* I WANT YOU *SLAM* I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY

My neck hurts

Also when I downloaded the album I was getting really excited about Hostage even though I hadn't listened to it yet and I'm not sure why? But holy fuck I was so right

I can't even think about If I Get High without feeling a little bit hollow

Graveyard Whistling also makes me a little hollow but it's actually really comforting

I finished the album and went "that's it???". The album is an hour long.

Ik no one cares but I'm losing my mind over here

[platosshadowpuppet]

I found the path by accident, while wandering the overgrown graveyard. It was one of my favourite places to walk in the city, full of winding desire paths amongst spreading trees, with headstones and memorials sprouting here and there from the long grass like mushrooms after rain.

I was picking early raspberries when I noticed the path. So slight, like a deer trail, and just hard earth, kept clear by constant use. It led to a long disused corner of the already neglected graveyard, where one plain tombstone stood.

When I first saw it it was catching the last of the summer light, the simple sandstone rendered in gold by the setting sun. It stood in a natural arch, beneath a holly and an oak entwined.

I couldn't read the name. Fingers had traced it so many times, over so many years, that grooves had been worn in the stone. With the name and date forever obscured, they left a message in their own language. Of unending love and loss.

[thecryptidart1st]

Thank You <3

Let me reintroduce myself to those who have been following since my beginnings and introduce myself to those of you who just joined:

I’m @thecryptidart1st and I’m trans. My pronouns are he/they.

First of all, I want to thank everyone for getting me to 2k followers. I am still very humbled that people appreciate my art, from my Soldered Wires AU to The Graveyard Shift to my earliest days of this blog where I was trying to figure out what to post. I never imagined one person to be following me, let alone 2000 of you. A lot of times I worry that I’m kind of a hack who just got here by sheer luck and cheap drawings, but when I see your comments and interactions with every post, it validates that I am an artist and at least there’s always going to be someone out there who likes what I draw. And that feeling has been encouraging me to keep drawing and improving my skills since I’ve graduated from school and hopped from job to job. I know I’ve had my inconsistencies with keeping up on asks and messages, and I feel guilty when my depression stops me from doing what I like, but almost every time I get back in the groove because I miss interacting with you guys.

I’m sure there are a few who have a lot of questions about my new identity and it’s been quite a journey getting to where I am now. In short, I’ve spent probably 17+ years of my life being unhappy about being a girl physically, but in major denial about changing it. And it’s funny, but Scott Cawthon unintentionally wrote the one character into his line of games that I emotionally attached to because our lives were basically the same:

Yes, Michael Afton made me trans.

Okay, not entirely, there was me emotionally attaching to the male Pokemon protagonists because “they had better outfits” and years of creating stories that featured a lot of male protagonists that gradually got more LGBTQIA+ with in-depth backstories and relationships while my female characters got left in the dust. And a ton of other media and fandoms that were gay as heck.

But for some reason, the FNAF series was a weird gateway into realizing I wasn’t a straight cis woman. And the more and more I learned about Michael’s backstory, relating to his life struggles, and just wanted to draw him having the kind of love I wanted for myself, I realized that I wasn’t a broken woman, but a man trying to crack out of this egg I was stuck in for so long. I only came to terms with this when I wore my first binder just this last weekend. And now this announcement timing up with my 2k followers is wonderful.

So I’m looking forward to what comes next for me as I try to figure out how masculine I want to present myself as and as I come out to my friends and family. But, I’m glad it’ll be alongside with my partner and all of you FNAF fans across the spectrum!

💙💖🤍Thank You🤍💖💙