#coven rp

[vampyrebond]

21+ only. 🩸🩸🩸 read rules before interacting.

( template credit )

[lunarcovehq]

You know the old saying, “the best time to join an rp is when a cool event is going on so you can be part of a plot drop and have lots of interesting event related threads,”? Well that saying (that is really popular and not just something I made up) is super relevant right now in our town of Lunar Cove! We’re a couple of days into our latest event and we’d love to have a couple new residents come rolling into town. 

[spookylittletownhq]

DOROTHEA “DOTTY” OR “THEA” HAMPTON has arrived in Albion. While they may seem STRANGE, they are connected to the LOWER VALLEY HAMPTONS. Their passport was stamped at Falls Inn and shows that they are 28, 5’8”, with BLONDE HAIR and HAZEL EYES. Mrs. Kuiper at the Inn said that they seemed CURIOUS and SELF-REFLECTIVE, though they were seen MUTTERING TO HERSELF IN AN EVER MORE AGITATED TONE as they departed St. Catharine’s Depot. Be wary, and report any sightings to Madame Lange’s Tea Room.

January, 1915.

Mother says I should keep a journal, one that maintains a record of who I am and what I have been going through. She often seems to view my gifts as a trial. My siblings… they have all managed to grow up. They have left the home. It is just me and them now. Though to even say them is inaccurate. Father is so ill, he has been for so long, that he never even leaves the bedroom. I am forbidden from entering the room unless I am asked. Do not think I am complaining, to be in that room is to be communing with death itself. I can sense the water that fills his lungs. Once, when I was naive, I asked my mother if I could possibly try to use my gift to see if I could ease his pain. I can still feel her palm on my cheek. The waters nursed the sting though. I dream of living within those waters, as free as they are, as certain of who I am and should be as the fish that populate them. The waters are my only escape from this torment. The constant cries, the screams, the anger, and the prayers they grow louder every second when I trapped in this home. I must find a way to freedom. The river is calling for me. I will return to write in this.

December, 1915.

Father has passed from this world into the next. Mother claims that he has found himself in the embrace of their lord and savior. I could only nod and agree, though my heart was not in it. She needed the peace I could give her then, I suppose. The truth is that in these months I have realized some things. They may claim that their deity, their hero, their almighty is giving them all of these blessings but I can only see the suffering he has caused them. The farm was difficult to maintain when father was healthy. Next year, mother and I will have to attempt to keep it alive ourselves. She refuses to allow me to use my blessing to try to aid us. She demands that I keep myself separated from that aspect of myself. How dare she? Truly how dare she? I am offering her a gift and she spits in my face over her outdated belief of righteousness? If her deity is as great as she says how am I not a vessel he must be acting through? The old deities speak to me. They whisper to me in my dreams. Telling me to swim deeper, to reveal the secrets, to grow my power… to join them. I must do it. I need to grow more powerful to have a chance at working closer with them, to be more in tune with the water, the very force that gave me my true life. They buried father in a box. Left him in the ground. I wish they had sent him to the river.

September, 1919.

Mother and I have done all we can to keep this farm sustainable enough for us to survive. We have succeeded, barely, in just enough of a way that we have managed to find ourselves able to keep surviving and subsisting on the fruits of our labour. The question remains as to how much longer we will keep this up for. She and I rarely speak anymore unless it is of the work. Though I can still hear her prayers at night. The wretched cries that intermingle with it. None of my siblings have visited. Nor have they written. We are alone now, my mother and I. She goes to where they buried father’s corpse every weekend. I take the time to see the river. It is such a spiritual refreshing. I feel so strong afterwards, I could trick myself into thinking I could direct it through the valleys of this land. I met a very beautiful woman along the hill the other day actually. She is the new schoolteacher, the previous had been married. The way she smiled at me… it was like the river washing over me again. Yet, it is certainly just a flight of fancy. Nothing will ever be able to come of it. No matter how badly I may wish for a future with the wonderful Ms. McAleer.

November, 1921.

A week after the harvest it happened. Mother collapsed in the kitchen as she was preparing a meal for the three of us. Even with Victoria’s help the last two years, my mother’s aging body could only have held out so long. She is dying. Myself and Victoria will have to go it alone this next year. Though with her remaining as a schoolteacher, this will mean I will bear the brunt of this work. I am not made for this. I am not a woman of strength, I am a woman of the mind. How could I have forgotten that through this last few years. Yes, I had helped where I could before father passed but I had never been the driving force behind the plow, I had never been the one who had to determine where we could harvest and for how long. Tonight is a night of utter suffering. Mother is dying. I doubt she will recover. And I do not know how I will be able to maintain this place on my own. Even with Victoria’s help.

February, 1922.

Today was my birthday. It was the worst day of my life. I am hidden, stuck in a forest grove near the river. I had tried in the last few days to till and to prepare as much of the soil as I could, but it was futile. Mother died two days ago. I… I had hated her, yes. Yet now I feel this intense guilt for this longing and this desire I have for her, I need her here with me again. When I got home, and I heard the silence I knew. The fields had taken so much out of me… and when I entered her room she was there. A corpse on a bed. I had begun to cry. I had silently wished the water would take away this anchor of a farm that choked me every day until I would wither and die like this woman who laid in my mother’s clothes… I don’t recall trying to bring the water up. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was a deepest purpose within me. The river burst from its banks. It came like a monster, ravaging the town, the homes, the farm, the people. I survived, of course. But when I walked out of my home, the people were there. There must have been rumors for years of my true nature. The girl born of water, the water spirit incarnate. They came at me with torches. They threw rocks. They wanted me gone. The most terrifying sight of it all? Victoria McAleer... she wasn’t fighting them, she wasn’t defending me, she was at their head. She had organized them. Called them to come and punish the “evil water witch”. To drive me from my home. I wonder if my heart will ever recover. Tonight, I am 28. I will wander this path. I will see where it may lead me. And hopefully, one day, I will be able to rebuild a life for myself. Tonight I toss this book in the river. To rest with what I have forgotten, with my home, and my family. The waters will lead me. The river will be my guide. Farewell forever, beloved home. You were my prison. And yet you were where I belonged. Farewell, and may I live enough days to see this town swept away by the river’s fury.

—

Welcome welcome to the valley! Please send in your account within 24 hours – and follow the checklist to get set up. 💚

[letsxxplay]

Anybody want a sweet Irish witchy boy to make them lavender tea loaves and rich herbal oils while they watch Practical Magic for the third time that week and kiss under the full moon?? This love of mine, Davin Moore, is high muse right now. Anyone?

[lovebitesads]

set in the year 2023, 500 years after the supernatural world had been brought to the knowledge of the humans, vampires had lost their soulmarks, their soulmates; due to a lone vampire killing their soulmate. but now, years later, they are finally getting the chance to find their soulmates, as a tattoo begins appearing over their skin.

[krp-network]

to the anon looking for interest check: a coven rp would be so fun, oh my god. i would join in a heartbeat.

.

[hollowayads]

[visitalbion]

NEW ENGLAND, 1923.  Albion is a story about a home, and all the people and places that build within it. A story about families, and covens, and bloodlines. A story about children, their laughter echoing happily down the lane, and the parents who wait, and work, and watch them grow. A story about those in-between. About magic.

This is the story about a small town hidden away from the world. Devout to their customs. Fanatical over apple festivals. Mired in history, the sort only found in family trees and rectories. Where the trees climb high upon the valley ridge, and the lakes shine blue in summer. Where snow blankets after the first frost, and secrets can grow roots.

This is the story, the first chapter, of those who left – and what happens when they return.

Welcome to Albion, a small-town, magical roleplay game based in a fictional valley in rural New England. Nestled between two mountain ridges, Albion is home to a cozy, eclectic, and ultimately slightly spooky community, intentionally isolated from the outside world. Our application is open now!

🔮 BOARD THE TRAIN →

[frankenkyle19]

Cherry Medicine 🍒

Request

word count: 809

warnings: mentions of snot, spit and being sick

“Kyle please you have to take your medicine, it’ll make you feel better I promise!” You repeated for what had to be the tenth time in the span of only a few minutes. The zombie boy hid behind the kitchen table out of your reach, shaking his head. His eyes looked tired and his nose was red and running. He was sick. 

He didn’t quite understand what was going on with him, but he’d been bedridden for nearly two days now. He came down with something after he had gotten out one night to explore. He was miserable. Coughing and sniffling constantly. He cried because his throat hurt and he cried because he couldn’t breathe through his nose. Then he cried because his head hurt from him crying.

You had been by his side the whole time, risking getting sick yourself so you could take care of him. He loved you taking care of him but the one thing he didn’t like was medicine time. You’d tried to teach him how to take pills, thinking it would be easier since they were tasteless, but he couldn’t figure out how to swallow them.

So your only other choice was to give him liquid medicine. The cherry flavored medicine that smelled almost nostalgic in the worst way. 

He had drunk it down the first time no problem because he figured you’d never give him something he didn’t like. The second time, he tipped the cup of liquid into his mouth before quickly spitting it out, covering you with a spray of red sickly cherry liquid. You didn’t scold him for it though. You hated medicine just as much.

The third time you had to hold him down and force it down his throat. That upset him. He didn’t like to be forced to do things or be held down. 

The fourth time was right now, Kyle huffing and puffing, hiding behind the kitchen table, running around to the other side each time you took a step closer to him. 

“N-no-no! No m-medicineee!” He grunted, shaking his head, blonde curls covering his forehead and eyes. He coughed, wiping the snot forming on his upper lip onto his sweater sleeve. You’d need to get him new clothes soon.

“Kyle look, I know you don’t like it but once it’s done you don’t have to take any more the rest of the day. Okay?” You tried to offer, holding the cup of liquid out in offering. You really didn’t want to force him to take his medicine but he needed it. You hated seeing him suffer.

“C-cuddle t-touchhh” he spoke, wide curious eyes watching you, such innocence in the brown orbs. 

You furrowed your brows a bit, trying to decipher his words. Sometimes it was hard to understand him, but you tried your best.

“You want cuddles?” You asked, to which he nodded, carefully taking a step towards you, arms out in front of him a bit. 

A smile formed on your lips as you looked at him. Maybe this wouldn’t be too hard after all.

“Of course I’ll cuddle you, Kyle. Just take the medicine, okay?” You set the cup on the table’s wooden surface, watching to see what he would do.

He grimaced a bit, scrunching up his nose in distaste as he clumsily picked up the small cup, bringing it up to his lips. He glanced back at you before closing his eyes and tipping the liquid into his mouth. He gagged a bit as the viscous liquid coated his mouth and slid down his throat, senses being overwhelmed by the fake cherry taste. He swallowed hard, shuddering before tossing the cup back onto the table.

“Go-gooood Kyle?” He asked, looking at you hopefully. He always loved your approval. You nodded, which caused him to smile, lips parting and dimples forming on the apples of his cheeks. 

You gently took his hand and let him back to his room, tucking him into bed under the covers before joining him. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he sighed sleepily. 

You gently rubbed his back, humming as he drifted off, clutching onto you. 

He fell deep into sleep soon after, body relaxing against yours, his breath coming out with a wheeze as his nose was stuffed up. 

When he woke up you’d feed him some soup and whatever else he wanted, and maybe give him a bath if he was up for it. He at the very least needed a change of clothes, the snot on the sleeve of his sweater now dried and crusted onto the fabric. If it was anyone else it would disgust you, but it was your Kyle. You couldn’t be disgusted by a single thing he did. 

Hopefully he’d be back to his normal healthy happy self soon. 

[soupercatte]

Redrawing friends into memes is my favorite pastime and I will never stop.

[thecoolestscoutonthecoven]

@theemperorsnewestgroove IM SORRY

[scarrinotspooky]

Do you consider your partners apart of your coven?

ugh. i hate feeling like i don't understand these things.

[evanpitars]

Ok I was thinking about rp/rpg (idk how to writte ) with ahs but yeah 😬

Opinions my lovers?

[spookylittletownhq]

The Explorer is reserved with a faceclaim of Chance Perdomo for Casi!

[frozenpizza14]

I um…..i’ve been….listening to masochism tango….GODTHISMANITAGONNAKILLMEISWEAR

……DONT LOOK AT ME

@theemperorsnewestgroove SIR….SIR PLEASE-

[pheoblitz]

I do not really know what to blog today. However I was doing a comic responce RP with someone and turned out these absolute bangers. It was for an RP sent in the Owl house Boiling isles. My character works for Belos (the rp was pre show events). He was a higher ranking memeber tasked with watching over a different high ranked member's apprenticeses for awhile. So he was trying to make it clear one does not mess with him.

I really like the sketchy vibe the images ended up coming out with, especially compared to how else I was drawing. For an example here is my first page I did. Needless to say it made the tone change fast. (Do note the ones in this image are either random npcs I drew or my character. I will not pose the other person's character without premission)