#crimson oddity

[nymfheii]

Edith Cushing fanart 𓆩♡𓆪

Crimson Peak is one of my favorite Guillermo del Toro films, I never get tired of watching it 📽

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[calmcoldevening]

• Thomas hewitt (dating)- So Reader knows Thomas like we were born in the same town or were neighbors something of the sorts. And we hear rumors about how the Hewitt family are murders,/cannibals. But we remind our business cause we're like, nah cause they didn't hurt me or I haven't seen anything, They're just a little quirky, We defend their family. But for some reason Luda tells us not to go in the basement, We're like okay, whatever it's not my business. Reader is like a, 'idc not my business type.' Until one day reader hears noises or something, so we get curiousand go down there. But this is where we enter the angst, Cause Thomas or someone hears movement in the basement and thinks a victim is trying to escape. So they do something to us which makes us scared of them (torture or something) and it can end with like fluff or something, Because im pretty sure reader would forgive them.

Thomas Hewitt x reader, who knew out he's a cannibal and murderer

Tw: cannibalism, murdering, blood, violence (well, it's the TCM)

Texas was your home, you loved everything about it, from the picturesque meadows filled with yellow buttercups to the dusty city road. These beautiful orange and scarlet sunsets and golden sunrises reflected in a small lake fifteen minutes walk from your house looked like the most real picturesque paintings. It was hot and humid during the day, and cool enough at night. The air was filled with dust and dry grass. Birds were rustling in the distance.

You liked everything here, because you grew up in this place. Your parents moved to Texas before you were born, so this was the only place you'd ever seen in your life. But it was heaven for you. The city you lived in was relatively small, so everyone knew each other.

You've always been sweet and kind, perhaps even a naive child with a soul too pure for this world. Maybe that's why all the neighbors in the neighborhood loved you. The children played with you, and the kind grandmothers often treated you to sweets or pies. Your face has always been decorated with a satisfied smile and cookie crumbs.

Everyone was surprised when they found out about your friendship with the "strange boy". His name was Thomas, he was one of your neighbors down the road. You called him Tommy. His face was covered with a decent layer of bandages, which he kept awkwardly adjusting with his small hands. You always giggled with that cute gesture, but not out of malice, but in a kind way. After that, you went up to him and gently helped him cope with his little problem. You combed his hair and put his hands in order. The boy always had short-cropped nails with dirt under them and dry palms, probably from housework. But apart from his oddities and inability to talk, and he was quite an ordinary child.

Almost.

Sometimes you'd find him somewhere in the backyard or in the field. He stood there, deep in thought. Next to him, you noticed a small fluffy body and a crimson puddle. Sometimes you were scared of his violence against animals, but Thomas was always in a hurry to calm you down. He caressed your cheek and explained with gestures that he had only found the animal just like that. And you always believed him out of your stupid childish naivety. Time passed, and you got closer. The Hewitt family has always been kind to you. Sometimes, they were even more attentive and caring towards you than your own parents. Even grumpy Charlie. Sometimes a man intervened in disputes if you were molested by local hooligans. He could even punch them in their pretty faces, as long as they didn't touch you, the little girl of this family. Luda has always wanted a daughter, and now you have appeared. The woman was more than happy when she found out how close you are with her son. That's why it was no secret that you and Tommy were dating. On the contrary, Luda helped Thomas in every possible way to impress you, she helped him make gifts for you and told him how to take care of the girls. Charlie just turned on his adult film cassettes, that's all his support.

You really loved each other. You were the only one who really understood and cared about Tommy, despite his appearance. You loved his long dark hair, which you often so gently washed and combed. You loved those frosty blue eyes, like two big deep lakes full of love for you. You loved his masks, and tenderly kissed every scar on Thomas's face and hands. You were perfect. Tommy's heart belonged entirely to you.

And now you're 24. Thomas was a little older, but it was never a problem. The man was still very attentive and caring.

But gradually the city emptied with the closure of the slaughterhouse. It was a big blow for most of the residents of the city, because there were no other ways to earn money here. You turned out to be one of the few who stayed. Maybe you just didn't want to leave your home. Or maybe you didn't want to leave Thomas and his family. Anyway, it wasn't easy for all of you, at least because basically there wasn't a lot of food and all that.

But after a while, surprisingly, everything got better. Not really, of course, but old Charlie started getting meat from somewhere. It wasn't as tender as some beef used to be, but it's better than nothing. Although you weren't a big fan of meat before, so you almost didn't care about it. You helped Luda in her shop at the gas station, and at home in your free time you even grew some vegetables, which also helped the Hewitt family a lot. In general, everything was more than good, and yet, the atmosphere in the house was different now.

There have always been some strange rumors around the Hewitt family, sometimes even terrible ones. And yet, you loved Tommy no matter what. The whole family was kind to you, so you had no reason to doubt them, right? Thomas has always been nice to you. You often walked on cool evenings, just holding hands. You were talking about your day, and he just listened with a smile on his lips. You were the only person he trusted and loved. The guy liked your voice, your way of talking and your laugh. Undoubtedly, in his eyes you were damn beautiful, but it seemed that he was forever looking through your appearance, into your very soul. It was so sweet. You couldn't help but fall in love with him even more.

You were in the kitchen at the Hewitt house making a pumpkin pie. Luda has always been surprised by your wonderful cooking skills, so she wasn't afraid to leave you alone. He needed to go back to the store for a while, where Hoyt had taken her. So you're left alone. Humming to yourself, you swayed your hips to the beat of your made-up song. It's good that no one was watching you now and you could do anything. Finally, you put the pie in the oven and wiped your hands on the fabric of your apron with a victorious smile. After removing all the ingredients and washing the dishes, you sat down on a chair and just began to wait. Hundreds of different thoughts flashed through your head, from this very pie to the little ring you noticed in Tommy's room. You were filled with excitement, which made you happily bite your lip. Could it be...?

Your thoughts were interrupted by some kind of thud from somewhere below. Your body instantly tensed up. It was scary to hear something like that when you were alone at home.

You slowly got up from your chair. The sound seemed to come from the basement. But you clearly remembered that Luda, and the rest of the Hewitt family, told you not to go into the basement under any circumstances. It's strange, isn't it? Of course, you always followed this strange rule, but now that you were alone at home, you were scared of what might be there. You didn't find any better options than just going down to the basement and taking a peek. You're fast, no one will notice. What can happen?

The floorboards creaked unpleasantly under your careful steps. The unpleasantly cold water has touched your ankles.

Your eyes widened in horror, and you covered your mouth in fear. There was a man sitting at the other end of the basement, although he could hardly be called such anymore. His face was disfigured, and his arm and part of his leg were missing. His whole body was covered in scarlet blood. The victim's mouth was gagged and his eyes were painfully closed. There was an old bucket lying nearby. So that's what it was... The man was chained to the wall, and there was a massive hole from a meat hook on his shoulder.

"God.." the only thing that came out of your mouth was when you slowly backed away. My mouth was dry, and an unpleasant feeling of nausea was slowly rising in my stomach. Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes.

You took one hesitant step, then another. Finally, your back hit something massive. In the blink of an eye, a huge hand was placed on your mouth, and then darkness.

Thomas's mind was racing. You've seen their secret. Are you afraid now? Of course you're afraid. The moment he found you in the basement, your body was shaking in fear and your eyes were full of horror. But it's all for the family, you have to understand. Sure, Hoyt said to kill anyone who found out about their family secret, but Thomas couldn't kill you. You were his happiness, his light in life, his beloved. Therefore, he gently picked up your unconscious body in his arms, protectively hugging it to himself. It's just a misunderstanding, isn't it? Thomas left the basement, closing the metal door behind him, and headed for his bedroom. He put you on the bed, trying to make sure that you would be comfortable. You should get some sleep, then you can understand him. It's all for the family, for you. He wanted so much to see you as his little wife, to protect you and your possible children, he wanted it so much. But now his dreams were more fragile than ever.

You woke up in a dark room. It must have been Tommy's bedroom, judging by the big bed. You slowly sat up in bed, feeling a dull ache in your head. After a couple of moments, these horrible images of a corpse in the basement popped up in your head. You instantly wanted to empty your stomach. You put your hand over your mouth, feeling hot tears on your cheeks. Your head was throbbing painfully, and nothing came out of your chest except a long-drawn-out cheekbone. You slid down the bed to the floor, pressing your back against the wall in the corner of the room. Your body was shaking in terror, and your mind was full of vile, terrifying thoughts. I wanted to scream, but it felt like your tongue had been ripped out. You covered your head with your hands, tucking your knees in. You need to get out of here, run. Away from this house, away from this city, away from these people.

Your mental reverie was interrupted by the sudden creak of the door. The dark room was slightly illuminated by warm light from the corridor, the doorway was soon blocked by a tall bulky figure. You instinctively cringed, afraid of the consequences.

Thomas's heart ached as he watched you crawl away from him in fear. As his victims. He carefully closed the door and slowly approached you. You looked like a cornered animal. Thomas didn't like that feeling. He gently grabbed your hand, pulling you onto his lap. You resisted and tried to break free, your mind was racing wildly. But he didn't stop. He took you on his lap, holding you gently against his strong chest. You struggled and cried, afraid that you would be hurt. Thomas felt like his whole world was collapsing seeing you like this. You pounded his chest with your hands, muttering some words, but he wouldn't let go, Thomas just held you closer to him, stroking your back and trying to calm you down. You were afraid of him. It was like that.. wrong.

Finally, you were exhausted, hanging limply in his arms. Your head is on his chest, and only long sobs come out of your mouth. Thomas kisses you briefly on the forehead.

"No harm.." He mutters in a rough voice. He rarely talked, but it seemed like the best option right now, "..love Y/N."

You didn't answer. Your head ached, and your mind was empty, the animal fear in your body gradually subsided, replaced by fatigue. You fell asleep in his arms. Thomas sat there with you all night, afraid that something might happen to you.

In the days that followed, he took care of you and tried in every possible way to show that he would not harm you in any way. He'd rather kill himself if he hurt you. Thomas came into the room and fed you with a spoon. At first you refused and resisted in every possible way, but gradually, because of hunger, you simply did not have the strength left. Thomas brought you something that didn't have meat in it, he knew that meat could upset you. Stewed vegetables, your pumpkin pie, some snacks. Thomas wouldn't let anyone into this room, not even his mom. He had to make sure you were going to be okay. You are his sun, his reason to live.

Over time, it seemed that you had thawed out. It wasn't like you were completely resigned to the fact that the Hewitts were murderers and cannibals. But you realized they wouldn't hurt you, Tommy wouldn't let you. He explained to you that it's for survival. In a way, you realized that this was just the only way out, and yet it was still disgusting and disgusting for you. But Thomas didn't do it because he likes it. He did it for the sake of the family, protected it and fed it. It's necessary.

After a while, you even left the room, although you no longer looked towards the basement. Gradually, everything returned to normal. You even started living at the Hewitt house, Monty made sure to bring all your stuff here. You became the second mistress of Hewitt, Tommy's wife. He finally put the ring on your finger, and you realized all his warm love for you. Luda was glad that her boy had really found his happiness. Now you were sleeping together, giving each other love. You even went down to the basement if Thomas forgot to eat. Ignoring the screams of another victim, you placed the food tray on Thomas's workbench and gently touched his shoulder. The man turned around and wrapped you in a hot kiss. You had a strange feeling when you kissed so strangely to the screams of desperate victims. But it didn't matter. At that moment, it was just you and him, your husband Tommy.

[60s-music-tourney]

Here are all 72 songs we are entering in the tournament

Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles

Somebody to Love by Jefferson Airplane

Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues

Sweet Caroline By Neil Diamond

All along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix

Pinball Wizard by The Who

House of the Rising Sun by the Animals

California Dreamin’ by The Mama's and the Papa's

People are strange by the Doors

Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones

Mrs. Robinson By Simon and Garfunkel

Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival

Good vibrations by the Beach Boys

What a wonderful World by Louis Armstrong

21st Century Schizoid Man By King Crimson

Space Oddity by David Bowie

You really got me by the Kinks

Spirit in the Sky By Norman Greenbaum

Respect by Aretha Franklin

Feeling Good by Nina Simone

I'm a Believer by The Monkees

White Room by Cream

Piece of my Heart By Big Brother and the Holding Company

Season of the Witch by Donovan

Like a rolling stone by Bob Dylan

Be my Baby by the Ronettes

Son of a Preacher man by Dusty Springfield

She's not there by the Zombies

Complication by the Monks

Heroin by the Velvet Underground

Ain't Too Proud for Beggin by the Temptations

I want you back by The Jackson 5

Alice's Restaurant Massacree by Arlo Guthrie

Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison

Eight Miles High by the Byrds

Come A little bit Closer by Jay and the Americans

So Long Mom (A song for World War III) by Tom Lehrer

Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash

Suite: Judy Blue Eyes by Cosby, Stills and Nash

Change is gonna come by Sam Cooke

You Can't Hurry Love by the Supremes

Happy Together by the Turtles

Tainted Love by Gloria Jones

Dream a Little Dream of Me by Mama Cass

Maybe This Time by Liza Minnelli

Don't Rain on My Parade by Barbra Streisand

Puff the Magic Dragon by Peter, Paul and Mary

Good Times, Bad Times by Led Zeppelin

Ain't no mountain high enough by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell

This boots are made for walking by Nancy Sinatra

Sitting by the dock of the bay by Otis Redmond

Cactus tree by Joni Mitchell

Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and the Shondells

I Got You (I Feel Good) by James Brown

Georgia on My Mind by Ray Charles

River Deep Mountain High by Ike and Tina Turner

My Way by Frank Sinatra

For What It’s Worth by Buffalo Springfield

Fire by Arthur Brown

Blackberry Way by the move

The Girl From Ipanema by Stan Getz And Joāo Gilberto

Can't take my eyes off you - Frankie valli

Green onions by Booker T. & The M.G.’s

Stand by Me by Ben E. King

Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows By Lesley Gore

Monster Mash by Bobby Pickett

Wichita Lineman by Glen Campbell

I Say a Little Prayer by Dionne Warwick

Aquarius (Let the Sunshine In) by the 5th Dimension

The Impossible Dream by Jim Nabors

Return to sender by Elvis Presley

It's not Unusual by Tom Jones

[sojuyae]

shift

nakahara chuuya / reader

notes: yandere themes, captivity, self indulgent, unhealthy relationships, dependency

after the first month of your captivity, chuuya unshackles the chains that had marred your wrists with hues of crimson and violet. you learned to never quiver in anticipation of pain when he tenderly thumbs the uneven skin. his heterochromatic eyes of abysmal blue and ebony meeting yours expectantly— as though he harbored a silent yearning, a wish that his touch might convey sentiments that eludes spoken words.

you bathe by yourself now, an autonomy that was once taken from you. its a welcomed change, with the chains gone, so too were the days when he would bathe you himself, where his hands would subtly wander, tracing paths they had no right to explore. you weren't safe from his gaze either, lingering upon areas veiled in vulnerability.

as darkness envelops and it is time for dinner, you think back to how his gloved hand would rest on your utensil, fingers on your jaw. his persistence on feeding you himself, often leading to you eating off his hand.

you now hold your brittle utensil, staring blankly at your meal. chuuya's gaze is not lost on you. you wonder if you have ever threw a tantrum during mealtime to warrant his perturbated stare.

you receive your answer when he stands up from his seat, asking if you were well and if you'd like him to feed you himself.

but when you sleep, he clings to you with an intensity— as if the very fabric of your existence might unravel should he dare release his grip. its an embrace that would put wet clothes clinging on wearers to shame. tears would drip down your neck, followed by apologies: chuuya sees himself as an oddity in the comfort of your arms—a comfort that simultaneously struggles with the contradiction of his apparent sin.

you know better than to comfort him. he pats down the drops of water left from the bath with a towel in hand, no different than the time spent with him bathing you in the tub. during dinner when the food served are always diced up, plastic utensils to refrain you from harm that his of porcelain and metal can do. showing the dichotomy in your shared world.

at the end of the day; metal chains and warm limbs were never different.

[infernalodie]

Tara Carpenter X Male!Reader

So I had an idea. Basically R and Tara are dating and R has 2 personality's, one personality is the sweet caring and gentle boyfriend/brother/son/Friend. The other personality is the dark, twisted and psychotic man that no one knows about, not even himself( maybe one of his personalities is one of the past killers). Well he sort of has an idea that the killer is him, he realises something is wrong when he hears about a single killer walking around in a mask murdering people- when one day he wakes up with blood covering him.

He goes to the party with Tara, everyone's there. Halfway through he disappears and Tara notices, ghost face pops out and no one knows it's R having an episode. Everyone gangs up on ghost face and they are shocked to see R. But after saying his name, he doesn't respond, and says his name is (whoever you want). They knock him out because they realise something's wrong but they don't take him to the police they tie him up in the basement and sit around waiting for him to wake up. When he does it's R again but he keeps slipping between personalities, R is crying but the other personality is finding joy in the situation- R keeps apologising and the all try and calm him down. R slowly starts to understand what's going on and is just sobbing/begging for help. You can decide how it ends.

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 || 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

"𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦? 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯"

Inspo: XXXTENTACION - Save Me NF - DRIFTING

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Male!reader

Summary: A constant plea for a savour in a world as dark as you saw it...

Warnings: Split personality disorder, murder, angst, character death, and heavily described suicide.

Words: 3453

DNI IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

One breath.

It was sharp. Abrupt. Sudden. It made you shoot up and stumble back where your body met a door. Eyes flickering all around you and only finding the oddity of your surroundings being unfamiliar to you. The blue ceramic tiled walls, the rotting sink top, the cracked glass, and the toilet that was foul to your nose.

The longer you took in your surroundings, the more you became apparent of the blackout of memory you’d experienced. And the more you looked, the more fucked up you became by your set of circumstances.

Your eyes looked into the cracked reflection of yourself and found a crimson figure. It was you, covered in blood. Finally looking down at yourself, you choked on your breath. Blood covered you from the top of your head to the bottom of your shoes. The only saving grace was the leather gloves snuggly slipped over your hands. Your grey shirt was stained, denim jeans were splashed and smeared with the blood of someone or something that didn’t belong to you.

“On tonight’s breaking news, landowners, Marie Goldwin and her wife, Kassidy Limberg, were found murdered in their front yard tonight.” That announcement that came from the TV outside of the bathroom made you freeze. “So far, police haven’t been able to give a statement to the community.”

Opening the door, you stepped out into what seemed to be a motel at first glance. It was like every small, run-down motel that no one would go to. But the further you looked across the room, the more you quickly saw the large white tarp that was stapled to the walls and floor, and the thick plastic wrap covering the bed. Then you were able to spot the splash of blood that stuck out like a sore thumb.

“The police have set a curfew for the town until they can figure out what has happened and where to take the next step,” the news anchor added. “So, please, everyone, stay safe.”

“Ahhh, what the fuck?” You muttered, eye twitching as you quickly ran to the front door and locked it. Backing away as you run your hands through your hair. “I was in my car. I was driving to Tara’s and then I…” The ramblings falling from your lips faded as you looked back at the TV and shook your head. “No, I couldn’t have…”

It was dark out, so you might’ve just gotten here. In some weird faded memory that you had no knowledge of, maybe you went out of your way and murdered those two women. Maybe you had something to drink or took something that didn’t kick in until then. What fucking happened between 7 PM to now?

You took the time to have a shower and wash off every droplet of blood from your skin. The drain swept the crimson away and into the pipes that would hide away the first step of your contribution to a murder. But you wouldn’t accept this because you weren’t capable of this. This wasn’t you and everyone would know that. Yet, you couldn’t take any chances. You’ve watched YOU, and you know the steps that need to be taken. So, thank god there were cleaning chemicals under the sink and your vehicle parked out front.

So, doing what you could, you carefully folded up the tarp, placing your shirt in the center before quickly rushing it out and placing it in the bed of your truck. Hiding it behind the toolbox and spare tire before going back inside and taking bleach to everything. There was no way to be sure what you could’ve touched before you came to, so you took it to the carpet, bathroom, tv, the remote, door handles- everything! You couldn’t be too safe.

And it hurt you in a way to be doing this. The fact that you just wanted to run, but were covering your tracks. You felt more like the perpetrator than the innocent. So, in a way, you were helping in a murder that you didn’t commit. Unless you did, but you couldn’t have. Never in your life did you ever want to hurt someone in the way that those two landowners suffered. It must be a frame job and be placed on you, someone who was trying to get through school and love his girlfriend wholeheartedly.

Yet, here you were, rushing out of the motel with the room keys tight in your grasp as you slid into the driver's seat. Starting up the vehicle just as your eyes were drawn to four garbage bags in the passenger seat. Your jaw clenched, swallowing the lump in your throat as you hesitantly pulled the hem back to be greeted by two lifeless eyes and the foul stench of blood and rotting flesh. You gagged, pushing your truck door open and vomiting.

You could already tell this would be a long night.

“You okay?”

You lift your gaze from the streets that were slowly becoming the same the longer you drove. They flicker to Tara who sat in the passenger seat of your car, accommodating you to the party Amber was hosting.

“Yeah,” you dismiss forcefully.

Tara purses her lips, looking down at her hands. Dragging her nails gently across the back of her hand. “Are you sure?” She prods further, seeing if there is an opening that she might be able to expose.

“If you want to say something Tara, then do it,” you say softly as possible.

She lets out an exhale flow through her nose, shaking her head. “You just have seemed… off,” she mutters. “Is it anything you want to talk about?”

It took almost all your willpower to not make it apparent that there was something very clearly bothering you. Ever since the death of the landowners and you waking up in that Motel, things in Woodsboro had been growing tenser and unpredictable. Killings were now happening every few weeks and the bodies were continuing to add up to a small hill. Police were doing patrols around town and there were rumours of FBI agents starting to catch word of the massacre going on in the small town.

So, to say you were bothered would be an understatement. And with how frequent these blackouts had started becoming, you were beginning to suspect the worse of yourself.

“Nothing that you need to worry about.” You smiled, reaching over and grasping one of her hands, squeezing tenderly. It gave you the chance to see Tara smile, seemingly dropping the conversation and allowing her to soak up the warmth of your calloused hand.

The party was going strong by the time you and Tara arrived. Each step out away from the safety of your vehicle made the sound of music and the flashing lights of the windows grow brighter. And when you stepped inside, you instantly regretted leaving your house.

A harsh wave of heat hit your face. Music blasting at full max blinds your senses and the flashing lights discombobulate your vision. You couldn’t help yourself when you harshly rubbed your eyes, hoping that the dark lighting and sudden flashes would be something you became adjusted to.

Tara’s hand met your forearm, shaking you from the daze of the party you didn’t even want to attend. Her lips barely grazed the shell of your ear as she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, smiling. Pulling the back hem of your pants and sighing as you leaned down to her ear. “I just need the bathroom really quick.”

She nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek, her touch lingering for a moment before she parted from your side when seeing Chad and Amber. You exhaled heavily, forcing yourself up the steps and toward the upstairs bathroom. Feeling that all too familiar flicker of your vision deviating. The strength in your body is slowly being extracted just as you reach the top of the stairs. And once you reach that bathroom door, stumbling inside with the darkness being your only friend, you were consumed by it.

“Has Y/n seemed…off to you?” Tara asked aloud to the group, who were all gathered around the table. Each holding a drink in their hands with their face seeming to share the same unbeknownst look that Tara couldn’t relate to. “He hasn’t been himself for months. Texts have been less and calls are as frequent as they were.”

“Maybe he is messing around with a new chick.” Chad’s drunken comment earned a firm slap upside the head from his sister. Mindy sent him a look that made him purse his lips, exhaling heavily. “I mean, nothing has seemed out of the ordinary for me, at least. Still shows up to school. Still works at the music store. What is it that you think is wrong with him?”

“Well, for starters. He said he would be back after going to the bathroom, but that’s been an hour ago.” Her words were sharp and pierced each of them with realization.

None of them had been aware that it had been that long. Maybe they’d been so caught up in talking and ushering all the kids out of the house, and cleaning that they forgot you had even been here. But Tara trusted in you saying you were fine. Then again, maybe you just needed to head home and rest.

“Are you sure he didn’t text you telling you he was heading home or anything?” Amber inquired, seeming uninterested in her friend's relationship troubles.

“Or maybe he’s still in the bathroom?” Liv said with a scowl, shrugging.

But then there was a painful grinding of metal against metal. The screech made the others cringe as they looked in the direction of where the sound came from. And within the shadows they found a lingering dark figure. Yet, they all could see the glint of light bouncing off of a blade.

And before anyone could get a word out, the figure came running at them, revealing Ghost face. They went charging at Chad, sending him flying into the counter. A yell fell from the boy’s lips, quickly grabbing the killer's wrists as they tried to plunge the knife into him.

The others were quick to grab weapons and hit the killer. It was enough to knock the killer to the ground with a groan after Amber hit them over the head with a chair. Knocking the mask and making everyone freeze in their steps.

“Y/n?” Liv muttered, brows scrunching together in confusion.

But instead of guilt or fear, you smiled. “Name’s Samael, sweetheart.”

Chad took it upon himself to kick you in the face, knocking you out. Silence fell over the room, everyone staring at your unconscious body. Tara wanted to scramble over and hold you. Question where you had been and if this was some sick type of joke. But the unsettling feeling that had been in her stomach for months was apparent. And this might be the cause of it.

“We can’t keep him here or take him home,” Tara explained. “Check his car keys. He keeps a key to the music store. Maybe he take him there.”

Mindy quickly reached into your pockets and pulled out your keys. Everyone quickly made a way to grab you and get you to someone's vehicle. But the entire time Tara tried to figure out what was going on with you. Why did you say your name was Samael? Why were you killing people? How long had you been doing this until you stopped caring?

“Oh, what the fuck is this?” Chad muttered, staring at the cage that was built in the center of the basement. Lights above giving

“What does it matter? We have to get him in there before he wakes up,” Mindy told her brother, helping Amber and Liv carry your unconscious body down the steps and toward the cage. Finding a key stuck in the lock, they pulled the door open and placed your body inside. Ushering out before locking it behind them.

Tara ran her hands through her hair. “Ok, what do we do now?” She asked frantically. “Do we call the police? Do we wait until he wakes up?”

“What the fuck do you mean, Tara?” Amber exclaimed. “The better question; what the fuck is wrong with Y/n and building some Saw level cage in the basement of the music store? And is he the killer?”

“There’s no doubt about it,” Chad commented, glancing at the others. “I mean, he was wearing the Ghost face outfit, Tara. He tried to kill me! The blood on the fucking ground! And he called himself “Samael”? We have no choice but to call the police-”

Hearing the sound of groan sound through the basement made them all spin toward the cage. You stirred, running a hand over your face, hissing with your head shooting up abruptly. “Fuck. My head…”

As your eyes flickered open, you caught sight of your friends. Fear spilled from the brims of their eyes. It caused you to slowly sit up and finally take in the surroundings. A cage. Something so familiar and identical to YOU. “What the fuck?” Shooting up to your feet, you looked around before your eyes found Tara. “Baby, what the fuck is going on?”

“Shut the fuck up, man!” Chad exclaimed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Is this some sort of joke? Were you really trying to kill me back there?”

But hearing your friend's questions made you frown. Unable to remember what had led you to be locked in a cage. Then there was the feeling back from when you hid that body. The knowledge that something else stirred inside of you that you had no way of knowing if it was real or not.

“I’m scared, guys,” you admitted, walking toward the glass. Tears beginning to bubble over the brims of your eyes. “I don’t know what I did. Guys, I don’t know what is wrong with me. Did I hurt anyone?”

“Why did you kill them, Y/n?” Tara wept, sitting on her knees. Your warm eyes were spilling over with tears of your own as you shook your head. But just like before, you tensed up, eyes rolling back with your head rolling back slightly with Samael coming to the surface.

“I don’t thrive on the killing, Tara,” he said, a gentle hum in his throat, rising from the spot Y/n had found in front of the glass. Beginning to pace back in forth where the others watched from behind Tara. All of them were disturbed by this new discovery of what sat beneath your smiles and soft words. “I fucking live for it. I mean, the first time I killed, it was wrong. I know that. But, fuck, did it feel fucking amazing to shut that stupid bitch up.”

Seeing Tara physically shiver in either fear or disgust satisfied Samael. It buoyed him. Allowed him to feel some sort of power in this situation when he and you were both at risk of what these teenagers might be willing to keep Woodsboro safe.

Tara pursed her lips, nose twitching as she bowed her head, eyes flickering shut. “Samael, can you please let me talk to Y/n?”

“Oh, but this is a question for me, isn’t it?” He asked, lips quirking into a grin. “Y/n isn’t capable of killing. We both know that.” He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, shaking his head with a laugh. “But he’s becoming desensitized by it, Tara. It’s only a matter of time before he and I become one.”

“Just leave him be, Sam!” Tara pleaded. “He doesn’t deserve the shit you’re putting him through. You’re just a fucking infection that’s going to get him killed.”

Samael pouts mockingly, crouching in front of the glass opposite Tara. “And here I thought that after everything Y/n’s done to stay with you, you would love the both of us the same,” he said, hands resting against the glass as he draws his face closer toward the divider.” I mean, that little shit helped me hide a body that I cut up into tiny bits just so he could make it to your place on time. Hell, maybe we could be a fucked up murdering trio with due time.”

Tara shook her head in denial. “He’s not going to end up like you,” she spat. “We’re going to block you out somehow. I won’t allow him to be a monster like you.”

Again, that familiar tenseness in your body appeared. The once stoic, boisterous nature that Sameal held disappeared with your trembling. “Samael, just please.” You leaned back on your knees, staring up at the ceiling of the cage. “Stop. I can’t do this.”

“Y/n, it’s my time!” Samael yelled, rising to the surface. “You’ve had your chance at the wheel. I let you deliver what you could, but it wasn’t enough. You had a great ride, but it’s my turn to give the people of Woodsboro something to remember.”

“This is my life-!”

Your words and presence were ripped away once again with Samael unable to contain the mocking laugh that fell from his lips. “Oh, my God! Do you even hear yourself, man?” He questioned. “For 18 years, you have been dragging your feet telling everyone that you’ll be fine. Promising progress, but where is it at now, Y/n? Where are the wonders of the Adderall pills you had been promised? Because all they’ve shown is that I’ve become more involved since!”

Beneath the surface, you were trembling, fighting and hoping to reach some sort of precipice that might enlighten you of a way to stave off Samael. But the longer you sat in this dark void, oblivious to what is happening beyond through the windows that Samael continued to take claim of, you realized how far hope really was. It was intangible.

So, as the needles of revelation stabbed into your veins, injecting the gravity of the situation, you pushed yourself to the surface. The ringing in your ears, the adrenaline, clouded everything outside of your thoughts. Blocking out the voices that might pull you toward a hopeless state.

And Tara watched as you scrambled toward the small box that Samael used for his victims. A one-way compartment that you guessed was used to give food or drinks. The edge was sharp and blunt. But not too blunt that a direct impact would do the damage you needed.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?” Samael called out.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stared at the edge before exhaling slowly. “Stopping you.”

There wasn’t a warning for anyone when you swung your head down upon the edge. The sickening crack and wet sound filled the air, making everyone gasp in shock. Tara’s lips were parted with the bubbling of nausea forming when you lifted your face, revealing your forehead split open, blood sliding down your forehead. Slipping down the curve of your eye socket and invading your vision. A quiet hiss falls from your lips. But it didn’t amount to painstakingly harsh pound echoing in each and every part of your skull.

“Stop!” Samael screamed. “You don’t want to do this, Y/n! This won’t just kill me, you’ll kill yourself. Think about Tara! I’ll stop, man. Just don’t do this!”

With your mind forming a heavy haze and eyes becoming blinded by your blood, you managed one final glance toward Tara. Seeing the fear and desperation to do something, but didn’t have the strength to move. Caught within her own mind and the shock of you standing there, on the brink of death to end this torment you’d been unaware of until tonight.

And came with a heavy heart to stare at her anymore. Hoping that even if no words were spoken, you wouldn’t blame her for anything she couldn’t have done. Because even if she’d liked to save you, the damage was already done.

“Fuck it.”

Tara saw you roll your head back and she felt her eyes widen. Finally being grounded and screaming, “No-!” But it was too late, your head saved in on the edge of the surface and you hit the ground with a loud thud. A whimper fell from Tara’s lips as she saw your lifeless eyes stare back at her. Your forehead caved in and your face became unrecognizable by the blood that seeped from the wound.

One of the most important parts of her life was now covered in blood from her lack of assistance that she had no way of helping you through.

[leggerefiore]

haii!! for spooky reqs, how about giratina!volo chasing his s/o in distortion world,, yandere type beat,, s/o tryna escape but volo is so much more powerful and always aware where s/o is at any given time so he just sees this as a "game"

cw: yandere, giratina Volo, unhealthy relationships, dark content

pairing: Volo/Reader

The eeriness of the Distortion World was something that simply could not be misunderstood.

From the moment one stepped foot into the world parallel to the normal, sane one, it felt like passing through a thin layer of membrane like that just beneath the shell of an egg. Then, after pressing through, one goes breathless. There is nothing yet followed by everything.

The endless pulsating of violet void and the harsh, rocky terrain that floated around the space at all manner of angles, how the plants grew upward no matter said angle, and the waterfalls and pools beneath them… Everything was not as comprehensive and logical as the world one knew previous. The air was stagnant and stale, yet odourless somehow. Sound felt as if echoed forever, on and on, until nothing but a heavy silence weighed upon the impossible lands.

And… it swam around this world as its horrid core.

The ominous glow of crimson eyes and bathed in shadow…

Its humanoid form was arguably pleasant, however. Yet, still eerie with the black wings that spread like tendrils from his back and the golden metal-like protrusions guarded his neck and face. His hair, just as golden as the potrusions and a beautiful face, were more distracting. Something dark burned his eyes, however.

You foolishly pitied him. A being cursed to an existence of loneliness and exile in such a labyrinthine world. His story was sad. Desperate for his creator's attention but rejected and then acting out like a child would for it. You only stroked his hair as he laid his head in your lap and recounted it all.

It should have been a clue to his true nature.

He was possessive.

Horribly so.

Whenever you left his dimension, he was visibly unhappy about it. Volo tried to tell you that the normal world was not safe and that he worried about you too much when you were away, but you somehow always managed to shrug off his concerns and leave the Distortion World for a while. No matter the length of the period you spent away, he always seemed irritated and desperate when you returned.

The short while after was spent in a nearly suffocating embrace while floating through the seemingly endless space of the Distortion World.

Another warning of what was to come.

Your chances to leave the odd dimension grew less and less as Volo seemed to shift into something more needy and demanding. He refused to acknowledge your questions and demands for the portal, simply saying that he was too exhausted or busy to make one. You would be fine, he would reassure you. Time did not pass in this world as it did your own, much like how space functioned so strangely as well.

You foolishly accepted it.

After all, you had become his “mate” at that point.

He was just worried about losing his lover and only companion… You convinced yourself that. Volo would get over his strange feelings and let you go free. He just needed to adjust. His tender moments of just holding you to him or speaking with you endlessly about his interests made you feel conflicted. You wanted to believe everything would normalise eventually.

Until, you could not.

It was difficult, fleeing through the non-euclidean architecture of the Distortion World. Your breaths felt more difficult to take in thanks to the oddity of the world. Running was strange, as the force felt all the more consuming to move, but you did not dare stop. An exit had to be somewhere. There had to be one. You refused to accept that there was not.

Volo was lurking somewhere around, you knew.

He had snapped when you demanded an exit and claimed that time apart would be helpful. The pleasant, amicable smile with soft, crimson eyes were gone. Shrunken pupils and a sinister grin replaced them. He towered over you, a height greater than that of normal humans. “... No, I won't let you go,” the Renegade pokemon had said, “You are lucky, you know? To be around a being such as myself. Most humans don't leave my realm with their life.”

Those words finally spurred you into fleeing from him.

What you were unaware of was the fact that this entire world was almost nearly an extension of Giratina's form. No matter where you went, Volo simply would know. He had known the second you stepped foot in here, and he would know every single step you took.

Volo thought it was a nice change up, however. There had been little time to spy upon humans and their realm while still planning his revenge on Arceus with you there. Were you not just so lucky to obtain the affection of him? The blond truly loved you. So desperate to make him happy and be his company during his forced isolation… Too sweet, too foolish. The human world was filled with cruel people. They would destroy you and take you from him.

He floated along casually, fully aware of the plants you were trying to hide within. Did you know how dragons became about their mates, he wondered. Did you even know that he was a dragon, alongside being something akin to a ghost? Ah, probably not. If only you had listened more carefully to his ramblings about mythology, then you would have been fully aware.

You held your breath when he stepped near the plants. How cute. A snicker came from him as he pulled you out. A cry left you as the legendary pressed you to his body. Adrenaline coursed through your veins desperately as you struggled against the grip of Volo. “My, I gave you plenty of warnings and chances to never return,” his head shook with mock pity on his face, “Did you listen? No. You must truly care for me, then.”

His cold hand came to hold your chin. The shiny golden horns on his head broke apart from the colour of his hair. “I love you, too, of course,” he reassured you, “Truthfully, I can't even say I would not have hunted you down had you not returned.” His tendril-like wings came to curl around you, locking you further in his grip. “Give up,” he hissed unexpectedly, “Just stay here. You cannot ever hope to escape without my help, and I will not ever let you go.”

His lips pressed against yours before you had a moment to argue back with him.

Your stomach twisted as you felt the sincerity in his final words.

Giratina was the god of this realm.

This entire dimension was its own to do as it pleased.

You were an unfortunate denizen of this world now.

Your eyes were bleary as Volo pulled away from the kiss. His gaze back to its normal state. “Worship me,” he ordered.

This request was what would completely seal your fate to be with the Renegade pokemon for the rest of time.

[nexility-sims]

🌙🌟 the moon is a goddess / there's a rabbit in her arms

we're having a party soon & you're invited

love buzz - shocking blue somebody to love - jefferson airplane venus in furs - the velvet underground i had too much to dream (last night) - the electric prunes heartbreaker - aguaturbia not to touch the earth - the doors 21st century schizoid man - king crimson since i've been loving you - led zeppelin time of the season - the zombies magic man - heart (somebody else been) shaking your tree - zz top space oddity - david bowie mind flowers - ultimate spinach

[z0mibite]

gif by @prusetch

To be continued...? Let me know 🫠

pairing – nikolai (beyond the rave) x gn!reader

warnings – general vampire stuff, blood/blood drinking, no explicit sexual tension, but cmon, we know why we're reading this, gassing (like in the movie), readers skin is described as 'paling' due to blood loss but not pale.

word count – roughly under 600

n/a – got random inspiration for nikolai after a comment from the lovely @astarions-bride. You all can thank them for this masterpiece. Also, hypothetically, if I continued this, the title would be oddities and curiosities.

You shivered as the temperature within you plummeted, contrasting with the warmth of the firelight from the metal bin nearby. Despite the heated atmosphere, you felt your nerves begin to feel like a grainy tv screen at the oncoming numbness, which was alleviated only by the pain in your neck—your life force surrendered to the vampire. Each lap of his tongue against the wound was punctuated by guttural gulps as he drank your essence. His demeanor bordered on feral, growling and twitching like a starved beast.

Considering he technically was non-human, his animalistic instincts shouldn't surprise you. With each pulse of your blood, moments lingered in the stillness. His consumption is punctuated by ragged breaths, despite the unneed to breathe. He withdrew from your artery after taking notice of your body's cue, the shallow of your breath, the speeding cadence of your heart, and the paling, chilled skin rivaled only by his own.

As he withdrew, a haunting stillness settled over the chamber. In the flickering firelight, shadows danced upon his pronounced features, casting light upon his face, now blushed with your blood. The rosy tint was not merely a visual change; he felt the pulsating warmth coursing through him. Every heartbeat, every surge of life that originated from your veins, manifested as an internal warmth. The heat of your blood became a living caress.

Silence lingered, pregnant with the weight of unspoken desires. His feral demeanor softened, replaced by a contemplative gaze that hinted at centuries of existence. As you lay there, the vampire's voice, resonant and velvety, pierced the quiet.

“You taste different from the others…” Nikolai's words, almost a question rather than a statement, a revelation. From the beginning, he had noticed an oddity with you, a nuance that set you apart. It was this oddity that guided his fangs directly to your neck, unable to wait for the others to drain you dry.

Nikolai confessed to the uniqueness he had sensed in you. A scent, an intoxicating aroma, had wafted from underneath your skin. As his fangs pierced your neck, it wasn't merely a physical need that drove him, but an insatiable craving for the flavor that danced within your essence.

He stared you down, his gaze flickering around your face and body as he inhaled your scent deeply once more. His pupils made his eyes appear almost completely black, only a small ring of blue visible to you with the close proximity. He guided his hand to the side of your neck, his thumb pushing your jawline up as he admired the crimson dripping from the punctures.

Heavy eyelids try to succumb to the combined effects of the gas and the loss of blood, coaxing your body to rest and recover. Each blink became a strenuous effort, it was exhausting just to reopen your eyes. Yet, with each strained effort to lift the veil of fatigue, your gaze persisted, meeting his, full of vulnerability and resilience.

Without clear reason, you wanted to show your strength, to prove your worthiness to him. Worthy of what, you weren't sure. Whether fueled by delirium or the ambiguity of your state, the only certainty that anchored you was the persistent thread of curiosity that connected your gaze to his.

In the windows where a soul should be, a faint trace lingers, revealing a shadow of the one who once was. A vampire, forbidden the warmth of a soul yet touched by a distant, delicate presence. As your eyes meet, you contemplate if the faint trace of a soul in his eyes is merely a reflection of your own.

[saigawrites]

My dear gelatin orb pet,

Seelie! Genshin x Platonic! Gn! Reader

Inazuma edition

Tags : crack, fluff, scenarios, headcanons

Warninigs : mentions of stalking, animal attack

Summary : you took home a strange creature that looked nothing like anything in your world. So you somehow try to live and be friends with the peculiar pet of yours.

A strange flying orb is now basking in your presence, observing you attentively. Uneasiness filled your entire being as you were stared down at, so you attempted to break the suffocating atmosphere by talking to the orbit. Minutes pass, and there is no reaction whatsoever, until the little thing flies off somewhere, only to return with a torn off paper sheet and a pencil in their tiny nubs.

Heizou ♥︎

"Hey~! I am Heizou, the great detective of Inazuma! It sure was a dream of mine to one day meet someone as odd as you! I hope we can get along with each other, even with our different physical traits. I was wondering, could I please make a psychological study with you? I want to know if there's any more oddities about you, especially your mind!"

Okay, why is this period blood blob trying to attempt psychological experiments with you now? You just met, and he's already looking through your soul 🧐.

You might suck at geography but you never heard anything about the so called 'Inazuma'. Wait, so he's an alien?

That theory have already explained why he was so interested in your psychology, and honestly, you were kind of scared of him after the realization.

But it was still hard to feel threatened by an dark red floating circle with a little bouncing antenna. Maybe he used that to communicate with his species?

You weren't familiar with the behavior of different creatures from another planets, but you discovered that these one seemed to be extra clingy.

He floats after you everywhere, always watching with the most attentive gaze, looking out for any type of quirks you might have. You became all the more aware of him, secretly staring at him with your peripheral vision so that he couldn't try anything funny🤨.

He would startle you a lot, annoying you and scaring you on purpose. He LOVES your reactions, whether it would be you losing your temper and tossing him around like a basketball, or you screaming at the top of your lungs when you feel something slimy wiggle under your shirt.

You're lucky that he doesn't do that all the time. Surprisingly, the cherry colored orb has his own business to do, which is just as strange as his appearance. He likes to go out, watch and stalk random people on the street. You found out when you caught him red-handed in the act, hiding behind a bush and looking at all the people passing by.

You tried to scold him, tell him that it's dangerous to go around for him like that, but to no avail, he would always nod in confirmation and then do the same thing on the next day.

So you decided to find him a hobby, something that would distract him long enough from harassing strangers on the streets. And that is, television. News channels in particular.

It was completely accidental when you found out about his interest. You were extra bored, and decided to finally watch the TV in like a decade. Soon you found your crimson red companion levitating in the hall, glancing at the TV and back to you a few times before flying to your side and nuzzling in your lap, making himself comfortable in your warm hoodie. Petting his tiny body, you both took in the situations happening all around the world.

Arataki Itto ♡

"HEY THERE!!! IM THE FAMOUS ARATAKI ITTO!! THE LEDER OF THE ARATAKI GANG!!! ITS NICE TO MEET YOU!!! WHATS YOUR NAME? LETS BE FRIENDS!! YOU LOOK SO COOL!!!! DO YOU WANT TO JOIN MY GANG?"

Woah, that's one... energetic light bulb. Bouncing on your office table cheerily while his long vertical horns wobble a bit, he squeaks excitedly as if he just found out he won a lottery. Well, he kinda did though, if you're the one to take care of him.

At least that's what he thinks, as your demonstration of desiring to bathe him from all the dirt and dust he somehow gathered gave him all the right signals.

Even if he splashed and spilled all the water onto you, and wiggled and squeaked under the turned on faucet like an over-energized parrot, still, you would rub his soapy circular body with care, patting him with the softest towel of yours that he was sure you were the fittest blob-parent of all.

Did I mention parrots? He is one. An even more chaotic one. You have to hold him with your most strong grasp from him speeding across your house like a flash, bouncing off walls, ceiling and the floor like a deflated balloon. You always have to scold him like a concerned parent about how his form is not exactly unbreakable, and he still needs to be careful with surroundings.

And that escalated into him finding your bed as the best trampoline he can access. You want to stop him and tell him that he's going to break the carcass if he continues, but you just can't resist the sight of a palm sized jelly ball jumping on your bed gleefully, ridiculously rotating in the air as he lets happy sounds escape his nonexistent vocal cords.

Sometimes you would curse the universe for making your circle companion this cute, because he sure can cause a lot of trouble. Almost getting mauled by the neighbors dog because he wanted to pet it two days ago and almost breaking all of your glass dishes because he wanted to help you make the table yesterday. Oh boy, I'm sure excited for what's in store for the future😀.

Though, it was what you should've expected from a supposed gang leader. He even invited you to be a member of this band of his, remember?

You do agree now with all those shoujo mangas where the gangsta would actually be a softie inside, because your glowing orange ball friend sure is, no matter how destructive he acts.

Yae miko ♥︎

"My, my... such a interesting creature you are! It is sure a blessing for me to be in your presence, another amusing humanoid~. I am the Guuji of the Grand Narukami shrine, Yae Miko. I am also the owner of the Yae publishing house. As a grandee of the kitsune clan, it is a pleasure of mine to be familiar with such a high being like you. I am in your care from now on, my dear~"

WHAT IS THIS LIGHT PINK DOWNTURNED FOX EARS GAS FILLED BALLOON ON🗣🙌💯🔥🔥

On all seriousness though, you tried your hardest to understand atleast half of what she wrote, but so far what you seemed to catch is that she's nowhere near an earth creature. Oh and her name is Yae Miko.

Confusedly glancing at her then at her message, your nerve cells steamed as they tried to figure out what type of emotions you should be feeling in this case. The guuji seemed to be quite entertained by your puzzled face and somewhat judging side eye.

Her actions make you no less confused, as you question why would she harshly tug on your clothes at the most randomest times of the day. Out of nowhere, the pink squishy orb would just sail in the air over to you, and then pinch a spot on your clothed body and pull it with an incomprehensible strength.

Which leads you to chasing her, speeding up after her oddly fast self. With groans and screams you would finally catch up to her and squeeze her annoying ass to smitherins☠.

If you don't react to her antics, she'll keep being even more of an ass and pinch on your skin, hard. So far atleast half of your body now itches and pulsates because of your flying jelly companion.

Other than annoying you, the cherry blossom blob with ears likes to do research. Literally on anything. It ranges from politics, history, culture to bitcoin, nfts and all of the other shady stuff. She doesn't take half of the happening seriously, finding the stupidity of your kind ridiculous.

Oh, and she is going to shove it in your face. Always giggling when you two would watch an educational video on some topic, as if making fun of you. When she would write her opinion on your communication notebook she would always leave a snide remark like "the absurd that your kind ensues never ceases to humour me" or some shit.

She really just makes fun of your whole existence as if she's superior in any way. You do your best to hold yourself and not slap her into the oblivion. Oh, but she knows you would never do that. She knows.

Kokomi ♡

“I, Sangonomiya Kokomi, want to greatly express my gratitude towards your actions, human-like creature with a pure soul. Your kindness will always be remembered and appreciated in my heart. Now, as you read this, I shall, as the grand seigneur of Watatsumi affairs, be taken care of by you, as you are in capability to do so. I am one of the descendants of the Sangonomiya clan, and my full form being taken away from me is a major cause of danger for me. I hope you understand my demands, and I hope you will comply with them.”

A lot of confusing words and hard to spell names didn’t stop you from looking at her with puppy eyes and an ‘aww’ escaping your lips. Even though her tone might sounded a bit bossy near the end, your inner mother instincts still kicked in and your heart swore to protect the light globule that looked at you with anticipation.

Her colour pallet reminded you of aqua monsters, something along the lines of mermaids, sirens, and the similar. And you kinda guessed it, since the way your pink and ocean blue pearl like friend gravitated towards water was as if a magnetic pull was in between them.

The funniest thing is that at the first few days she didn’t even know you had water in your house. Modern furniture confused her senses and for a while she thought your biology didn’t require water.

Until one day you came particularly tired home, and the only thing in your mind was the thought of running a warm calming bath with the aroma of your sweet candles. Not noticing your dwarf merblob levitating right after you and watching you turn on the bath faucet, made you jump in your place when she plopped herself in the filling water.

You were about to groan and ask her to get out, up until your gaze fell on the itty-bitty joyous expression that she demonstrated while floating in the lukewarm liquid. With a snort, a small smile followed along with a defeated look. Letting the spheroid bathe instead of you, you contemplated about her otherworldliness.

It all escalated into a degree where she would spend almost all of her time in your bathroom, swimming in your bathtub hours on end. On your knees, with pleas and begging, you would query her to get out of the pear shaped tank, but to no avail, the deep sea creature would just ignore your whines and continue flowing around in the water.

“Komi please, I haven’t bathed in a decade.”

“Splash. Blub blub blub.”

And there she goes again, making bubbles and blowing them at your face as a response. Even so, you still let the marine pearl have her way, as she’s way too adorable to be mad at.

Kazuha ♥︎

“Come driving rain or winds that churn, I shall return, by blade alone, armed, if barefoot, to my home... I am Kaedehara Kazuha, a wanderer who roams the land. Fate alone has destined us to meet, thus it is a great gift for us to be able to communicate, distinctive individual. May I put a question to your origins, your story, and your name?”

What is he, a poet of some sorts? Such a distinguished gentleman, saying such extravagant things, but looking so ridiculous it could kill a person.

Guessing was probably your only best talent, as this japanese flag jello was immaculately successful at using all of the paper and stationary that he could find in your house to make his pieces of art.

Or the “haikus” as he calls them. Paper scrolls all over any hard surface, fully scribbled over with elegant handwriting. You wonder how the heck can a round strawberry marshmallow with nibs instead of hands write so much and also write prettier than you could ever manage.

Reading through those is one embarrassing of a trip as more than 70% of the writings are about you. The other 30% are about the environment, the furniture, the nature, the textures and sometimes about his homeland as you assumed.

And no you definitely didn’t bawl your eyes out while reading those and no you certainly didn’t feel sorry for the tiny little guy and no you for sure didn’t hug him in the most gentlest way and promise him that you’ll somehow get him back, no, beyond any doubt that didn’t happen.

On another note, this guy was unquestionably the cause of your literature grades significantly improving. Both you and your teacher are raising a brow at how good you instantaneously became at writing essays and other in the sorts. You even caught yourself in the act of speaking flowery, as if your 18th century self out of the blue found themselves in the modern world.

And that’s all thanks to Kazuha, and his litres of poetry inside your house. What’s outside your house though, is his music. Yea, turns out your spherical friend is talented in tunes too.

On one particular morning when you two were in a public garden, choosing an outlying area to have your picnic in, you came across a eerily wholesome phenomenon.

Holding a tree leaf in his itty-bitty arms, he seemed to be performing a tune with the help of the frond. You stared at your pal in awe, mouth wide open as a beautiful melody rang through your ears.

When your homeboy finished his little concert you couldn’t help but clap gleefully and throw wows at his excellent performance. Just how lucky were you to befriend such a talented jelly orb.

ARGGFDDDDGJSFICGGV IM SORRY FOR BEOMG SOOOO SLOW😭😵😰😓 I’m currently in a middle of a whole makeover of my house so it’s kinda unmotivating for me to do literally anything but no worries, your homegirl will always find a way to deliver🔥🔥🔥🔥

[huneyproses]

Concept: LU all boys meeting their pre-adventure selves (as a chain)

I'm posting in shorter parts than will be posted to AO3.

Part 1/? (Aiming for 20/10)

Note: Switches POV throughout, I am a firm believer in "give them some oddities funny little man" It is explained in this part (with reasonings), but for ease of reading: Soldier -> Warriors Guard -> Wild Rancher -> Twilight Farmer -> Legend Crimson -> Sky Smithy -> Four Traveller -> Hyrule Outset -> Wind Green -> Time

Oh how glad he was to never grow up.

Link placed his hands below himself, giving a small cushion for his tail bones to rest on. The harsh rock of the cave floor had begun an all out war against his rear end with how many positions he had shifted to in an attempt to get comfortable. Oh how he wished to return to the soft cushion of his own bed back in the forest, sleeping till the sun began wain in the sky, and only waking up from Saria’s incessant shouts at the base of the latter. There was always something to be done—always something Link would forget about until she reminded him.

He brought his knees in closer, resting his forehead on them. He really did miss her. Not just her, the whole lot of them. The very forest itself.

They had been trapped in the cramped cave for a long time. He wasn’t fully sure how long, but time felt immeasurable during the tense silence that had preceded the discussion. When they had arrived in the cave, the man that appeared to be a Hylian soldier motioned for immediate silence, only whispering a short “Do not speak” before turning his attention to the gap between the stone. 

Link had assumed, based on how easily the man had commanded authority over the eight that he would be the one to break the silence, but instead it was broken by an all too pitiful yip from the small brunette in a ratty cloak. It was difficult to see with the little light streaming in, but even so the bright red of his cheeks was somehow readily apparent. A few had responded with a chuckle, Link, himself, even let out an involuntary giggle. 

His hushed explanation—“It was a really big spider”—and the muddled, yet frantic apologies made it difficult to not let out another laugh. 

But with the glare the soldier had levelled at them, any jovial atmosphere that could’ve emerged was snuffed out. He had followed it up with a loud sigh, dismissing any sort of plan he may have had with a wave of the hand. And following, the man began his interrogation, citing the need to be familiar with those he would need to fight alongside—and, based on the way his eyes flicked towards Link and the other three younger boys, protect.

It almost seemed like some sort of game they would all play back in the forest. The soldier had instructed them all into a circle. Saria would’ve named the rules, taking charge as she always did. Eventually, halfway through the game, Mido would’ve gotten fed up with losing and have started some dumb argument that somehow was always Link’s fault. They’d fight, kicking and scratching their way through an argument—all before someone threatened to tattle and it ceremoniously ended with forced, muttered apologies. Despite how at-odds Link and Mido seemed to be, Link still found him to be a comfortable constant. He never changed, and his antics could be amusing. Sometimes.

But he wasn’t in the forest, these people certainly weren’t his friends, and going around in a circle naming their names, oc-u-pations (?), and fighting ability wasn’t a game. Link drew his gaze up once again, avoiding the eyes of the older men, looking towards the fidgety brunette. He seemed incredibly downcast after the silent reprimand the soldier had shot them. Without thinking, Link nudged himself a tad closer to the boy. If it was for his comfort, or the boys, Link wasn’t all that sure.

Though, the more introductions they went through, that feeling of defiance and wariness had shifted to befuddlement. Occupations, Link had surmised, meant jobs. That was all fine and dandy; A farmer, a smith's apprentice, a rancher, and quite a few knights. The loud boy didn’t have a job, and the boy beside him called himself a traveller. All the knights seemed confident in their fighting experience, and even a few of the others seemed to have training, which was probably good news, if the loud grunts of the monsters stalking the perimeter of the cave was anything to go by.

But somehow there was something wrong. Something very odd. Each and every boy began their introduction with their name: Link. They were all named Link. It sure surprised Link (himself)—sure, he’d never been out of the forest before, but having 9 people all with the same name, that was definitely odd, right?

Link (him, Link. This was already annoying!), was the last of the group, having refused to speak the first go around, the soldier offered another chance. But, given the pure look of awe mixed with indignation Link gave the man, he simply let out a sigh.

“Right.” Soldier-Link had started, brows knit in a mirrored way as a majority of them, “We…all share a name. That will get confusing quickly.” He crossed his arms, closing his eyes for a moment, “I suppose we can refer to each other via occupation, though a few of you have none…therefore…”

“I will simply assign one.” With a forming smirk and a renewed confidence, Soldier-Link leveled a pointed finger at each Link.

For himself, “Soldier.”

To the stoic boy with a ponytail, “Guard” for his occupation of being a guard for the princess (however dismissive the eye-roll Soldier-Link posed while giving the name—he still gave it).

The boy beside him denoted “Traveller” for simply being such. For a short second the brunette caught Link’s eye, offering a reassuring smile. Link turned indignantly; he was trying to comfort the boy, not the other way around!

The same was true of “Farmer” and “Rancher” and “Smithy”; the former two being older boys. One looked like he could toss Link across the room, another that had a deer in the lantern light look about him. The latter was the younger of the three with relentless strands of tuft out the back of his head that gave a real funny look to him (especially with his contrastingly wise face).

The sickly boy with a weird outfit was nearly coined “Knight'' but was deemed too confusing with the other two. After a moment of deliberation, he offered up “Crimson”, with an explanation cut short by a sudden fit of coughs with intermittent apologies. Rancher gravitated closer, bringing a hand up to his back.

When Himself-Link refused to speak (he began to be unsure if he was doing so because of a lack of trust, some complex, or because he was genuinely frightened), he was called only “Green.”

“And for you—”

“Outset! I’m not anything yet so that makes the most sense since it’s the island I’m from.” The boy with messy hair and bright expression blurted out, “Plus I’d rather not be called, like, lobster.” He gestured to his shirt (The same thing Link was definitely named after), before placing his hand on his hips. He must be proud of one-upping the older guy, Link sure would be.

As if to confirm, the Soldier huffed, “So that was why the air smelled salty.” brushing his hair back, he moved to lean against the wall of the cave. He had opened his mouth to speak before the serious one—Guard—spoke up.

“—We are nowhere close to the sea.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know exactly where we are but…” He trailed off, bringing his attention to the side of the cave, tracing around the wall to the entrance. “These caves were carved as encampments—as safe havens from the creatures, but also for the possibility of war before…” He trailed off momentarily before continuing, “The entrance is marked. They were only built in certain areas around Hyrule. None are close to the ocean.”

Soldier remained silent, having brought his own gaze towards the slitted entrance of the cave. After a moment, he scoffed incredulously, “You’d think a soldier of the castle would know about safe havens;” challenging Guard, he moved closer, “Lying about something as great as being the Princess’ royal guard when it's so easily disprovable. You’ve sure got some balls.”

Guard remained silent.

Suddenly, Soldier grabbed the collar of Guard’s shirt, lifting the smaller man with discomforting ease, “Stop fuc—” He cut himself off, glancing towards Link, “Stop lying. Who are you? I won't hesitate to throw your sorry excuse out of here if you don’t answer. You’re short, certainly not Sheikah, and not to mention a man, so you’re certainly not her highness’ guard.” 

Guard matched Soldiers vitriolic glare, gripping his arm with a vengeance even Link could tell wasn’t going to end well. Rancher stood from his spot, placing his hand firmly on Soldier’s shoulder.

“You need to calm down man; we can do this later. You’re gonna scare the kids.”

Soldier glanced between him and Guard, taking a deep breath before dropping his collar. He leaned into Guard’s ear and whispered something indecipherable. Turning around he pushed back his hair again, “Weapons. What do we have?”

“I have a sword,” Traveller said, bringing it out into his hands. Guard followed suit, flashing a shiny sword with a purple and green hilt. Compared to travellers, it was stunning. Alluring in a way Link couldn’t understand. It had a triangle with four smaller triangles inside at its base. It was so long it nearly stood at half Guards’ height. It was probably too big for Link to even hold. 

And yet, just looking at it made him feel an indecipherable sense of dread. He looked away, tucking further into his knees.

Soldier had approached Traveller, from what Link could tell, his voice echoing from directly beside him. He had even squatted down to meet their sitting position, “Do you mind if someone borrows it, Traveller? I assure you it will come back—if not I shall purchase you an even better one.”

His voice was deceivingly sweet compared to his earlier disposition, but, even so, Traveller handed it over, if the steps following the exchange were any indication. 

Link turned his head towards Traveller, legs crossed as he focused on the fate of his blade. He hadn’t had a good look at him before, but with their renewed proximity, he got a better sense of the brunette's features. He was definitely close to Link’s age, with girly features and freckles dotting his face. Were it not for his name and clothing, Link certainly would’ve definitely thought him as a girl. He was pretty.

“Green?”

Oh—he hated that nickname, “...You really gave your sword to that guy?” He cursed himself for how pathetic the voice that echoed from him sounded: quiet and frightened with a higher pitch than he swore was normal. Link discreetly cleared his throat.

“Well he’s an adult. He seems to know what he’s doing with it—well, better than I would anyway. It’s mostly just for protection.” He let out a small laugh.

“He’s some adult. You really trust him?”

Traveller blinked, averting his gaze as his smile fell. After a moment, he shrugged, “I don’t have a choice right now.”

“What?” Link sat a bit straighter, furrowing his brows, “Why wouldn’t you? It’s your sword.”

“If I want people to stay safe, it isn’t. I shouldn’t be reckless. These guys work with the kingdom from what they’ve said; they know how to handle a sword better than me. I’d rather have them wielding it.”

“You trust them more than yourself, then?”

“No!” Traveller let out a short laugh, earning a glare from Link, “Sorry, sorry—I don’t mean to laugh at you. Of course I don’t.”

“Then why are you giving them your sword?”

“Um…” His bright expression had all but dissipated, leaving only the trace of a smile as he finally set his eyes back on Link’s. Suddenly, his face seemed a lot older than it had before, “I just think it’s the best thing I can do to keep everyone safe.”

Link crossed his arms incredulously, breaking off the conversation with a discomforted huff. That conversation gave him more questions than answers. He supposed that could just be what Hylians were like—confusing! The guy’s reasoning was dumb. How can you give away your protection for someone else’s and still say you trust yourself more?

Watching the quiet conversation between Soldier, Crimson, and Farmer. Soldier gestured towards them a few times before they both nodded, eventually turning their backs on Soldier and venturing closer. Link spotted Traveller’s sword on Crimson’s back. At least it’d be close to Traveller.

At some point, Outset had also joined the newly formed group, hands lazily laced behind his head. Smithy followed him at a distance, fidgeting with the band on his head.

“We’ll split into two groups.” Soldier started, gaining everyone's ear, “Guard, Rancher and I will get the attention of the monsters. Farmer and Crimson will take the kids east towards some stable that should be there.” Link didn’t miss the distrusting glance Soldier shot Guard before continuing, “It’s a risky plan, but it’s our best chance of getting out of here before night falls and we become stuck without food or water.”

Link glanced at a few of the others. Guard hadn’t offered a readable expression since the encounter with Soldier. Smithy looked uncomfortable, tossing his gaze around the room. Outset had a sour expression, pursed lips in a pout with his gaze towards the cave wall. Rancher looked sceptical, scratching the side of his head with averted eyes, yet spoke nothing in contrast to it. Traveller and Farmer looked worried and uncomfortable respectively. Crimson had placed himself beside a cave wall, head leaned against it with his eyes scrunched closed since Soldier had begun to speak. 

All in all, great plan. 

But it wasn’t as if Link was going to offer anything better; As little as he trusted this Hylian soldier, it wasn’t as if he had a choice. No weapons and no real fighting experience bar practice duels with other Kokiri….

“Alright, we’ll head out on my signal.”

They all shimmied their way toward the mouth of the cave, Soldier remaining just outside the entrance. For a discomforting amount of time, he waited with his right hand palm up. Yet, with the ambient sounds of the birds and unfamiliar buzzing whirring outside, silence had yet to add to it.

Suddenly, his hand moved. Three fingers up—

Two—

One—

“Now!”

[dungeon-strugglers]

✨New item!✨ Finger Ring Ring, common

This ring is shaped from a finger bone. The creature that donated their bone to craft this magic ring always knows the direction of the ring while it is on the same plane of existence.  —— I first felt that I was being watched a week ago. I was walking home after acquiring some knick-knacks from the market, when I heard something moving in step with me. The street was deserted when I turned to look around, so I must have imagined it, but the sensation lingered.

When I got home, I waited at the window for a minute or two, but nothing revealed itself. I live alone, after Alfred passed away, so I have to be careful. That night, I gift-wrapped the items I had purchased: a crimson cloak, a taxidermied raven, and a ring of bone. My nephew’s birthday was the next day, and he loves those kinds of morbid oddities. 

I was sure I had taken the ring, but when I came home after the party, it lay unwrapped on my bedroom dresser. My nephew had been satisfied with his gifts, so I decided to toss the ring. You’ll understand how startled I was when I woke the next morning, wearing it on my ring finger. In fact, no matter how many times I try to cast the ring away, I always wake with it on.

All the while, the sensation that someone is watching me remains. My house is old and it creaks from time to time, but the floorboards have been especially vocal since I bought the ring. Many times I’ll be cooking or otherwise busy with chores and I’ll suddenly pause, overcome by the feeling that someone is standing just behind me. Nobody ever is, of course.

It took me long enough, but I know now that the ring could only be a gift from my dearly departed Alfred. From beyond the grave, his soul is reminding me that we will always be together. I’ve hidden the ring again. Tonight I will lie awake but pretend to sleep as he returns it to me, so that I can see my beloved Alfred one last time. - 🖌🎨 Like our work? Consider supporting us on Patreon and gain access to the hi-resolution art for over 180 magic items, item cards and card packs, beautiful creature art and stat blocks, and setting pdfs with narrative hooks and unique lore!🧙‍♂️ Thank you so much for your support! 💖

📜 Credit. Art and design by us: the Dungeon Strugglers. Please credit us if you repost elsewhere.

[60s-music-tourney]

Here are the current songs for the 60s tournament, we need 12 more:

Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles

Somebody to Love by Jefferson Airplane

Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues

Sweet Caroline By Neil Diamond

All along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix

Pinball Wizard by The Who

House of the Rising Sun by the Animals

California Dreamin’ by The Mama's and the Papa's

People are strange by the Doors

Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones

Mrs. Robinson By Simon and Garfunkel

Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival

Good vibrations by the Beach Boys

What a wonderful World by Louis Armstrong

21st Century Schizoid Man By King Crimson

Space Oddity by David Bowie

You really got me by the Kinks

Spirit in the Sky By Norman Greenbaum

Respect by Aretha Franklin

Feeling Good by Nina Simone

I'm a Believer by The Monkees

White Room by Cream

Piece of my Heart By Big Brother and the Holding Company

Season of the Witch by Donovan

Like a rolling stone by Bob Dylan

Be my Baby by the Ronettes

Son of a Preacher man by Dusty Springfield

She's not there by the Zombies

Complication by the Monks

Heroin by the Velvet Underground

Ain't Too Proud for Beggin by the Temptations

I want you back by The Jackson 5

Alice's Restaurant Massacree by Arlo Guthrie

Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison

Eight Miles High by the Byrds

Come A little bit Closer by Jay and the Americans

So Long, Mom (A song for World War III) by Tom Lehrer

Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash

Suite: Judy Blue Eyes by Cosby, Stills and Nash

Change is gonna come by Sam Smith

You Can't Hurry Love by the Supremes

Happy Together by the Turtles

[mdzsfan]

Unspoken Bonds part 2

GIF from adustyspectacle on Tumblr

As y/n trailed behind Lan Wangji, the atmosphere around them seemed to thicken, heavy with unspoken emotions. The palpable tension was like a veil that enveloped them both, casting a shadow over their steps. For y/n, this current of intensity was perplexing; it wasn't often that she found herself on the receiving end of such strong reactions from Lan Wangji.

Amidst the quiet steps and echoing silence, y/n's mind raced, trying to unravel the puzzle of his behavior. She was, after all, just a maid, an inconspicuous figure in the vast tapestry of the sect. With no family ties or notable background, it seemed rather odd that her interaction with Wei Wuxian would provoke such a reaction from Lan Wangji. Her thoughts whirled, grappling with the dissonance between her perceived insignificance and the intensity of his feelings.

Mixed within her confusion was a web of her own emotions. Y/n was not oblivious to her feelings for Lan Wangji, though she harbored no illusions about the reality of their situation. The chasm that separated them in terms of social standing, wealth, and societal expectations seemed insurmountable. Her heart understood the unlikelihood of him returning her affections, yet her emotions persisted, casting their own shade upon her thoughts.

In her heart, y/n recognized that her affection was a quiet ember, a secret flame she kept close, understanding the unlikelihood of its ignition. The intricate dance of emotions that had formed between her and Lan Wangji was a melody that played within the confines of her own heart, often hidden from the world.

Just as the tension between y/n and Lan Wangji seemed to tighten its grip, a soothing voice broke through the heaviness. "Wangji," Xichen's call acted as a balm, swiftly diffusing the atmosphere that had been fraught with tension. His presence was like a beacon of serenity, casting a gentle light that momentarily eased the weight between them.

Y/n's gaze shifted to Lan Wangji, finding solace in his eyes. The words that followed, spoken with a quiet resolve, reassured her that he was not blind to her well-being. Her lips curved into a soft smile, her response carrying a whisper of understanding. "Don't worry about me, you go with your brother," her assurance was imbued with a quiet strength, an assurance that she could handle the complexities of the situation on her own.

As they parted ways, y/n found herself alone in the aftermath of this emotional tempest. The scrolls in her arms served as a tangible reminder of her responsibilities. Despite their intended recipient being Lan Wangji, she quietly made her way to the library, the weight of her emotions and the scrolls a metaphorical journey in themselves. 

Y/n's fingers moved with practiced grace as she shelved each scroll, her motions precise and efficient. Amid the familiar texts, her eyes were drawn to a book that seemed to stand out from the rest. An oddity in its appearance. As she pulled it from the shelf, curiosity flickered in her gaze, a silent question hovering in the air.

The words and images that met her eyes were like an unexpected gust of wind, stealing the breath from her lungs. A flush of warmth crept up her cheeks, her face turning a shade of crimson that mirrored the contents of the book. The unexpected nature of the text left her momentarily speechless, her heart pounding in her chest.

Quickly, as if the very act of reading those words was a transgression, y/n placed the book back on the shelf. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly, betraying the turbulence of emotions that had been stirred within her. The mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and an odd sort of delight swirled in her mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind.

The stillness of the library was abruptly shattered by the sound of Wei Wuxian's voice, a familiar presence entering the space like a gust of wind. "Xiao-mei!" his exclamation carried a note of cheerful recognition, a warmth that reflected their previous interactions. "Nice to meet you again, pretty lady.". 

"Master Wei," her voice carried a note of respect as she addressed him, the honorific a reflection of the hierarchies that governed their world. Her bow, a symbol of deference, held within it a hint of the thoughts that had occupied her mind.

Wei Wuxian's smile held a playful twinkle, his eyes crinkling with mirth as he regarded her. His ability to lighten the atmosphere was evident, his presence a reminder that life could still hold moments of levity, even within the confines of tradition.

"You don't have to be so formal, Xiao-mei," he said with a teasing lilt to his voice. "We've interacted enough times for you to address me casually."

"Then you can call me, y/n," she replied, a soft smile gracing her lips. Her words held a hint of playfulness, a deviation from the formalities that usually defined their interactions.

"Y/n, what a pretty name! For a pretty girl like you," Wei Wuxian's words flowed like a melody, his voice a mixture of genuine admiration and his characteristic cheerfulness. His compliment, while candid, felt like a sunbeam warming her heart.

"Thank you, Wei Wuxian," y/n's response was gentle, her gratitude sincere. His ability to create an atmosphere of ease was a gift she had come to appreciate.

"A-xian is fine," Wei Wuxian's invitation was extended with a friendly pat on her head, a gesture that carried a sense of camaraderie. His casual manner was both surprising and endearing, bridging the gap between their statuses.

As he looked at the shelves, a sudden shift in his demeanor caught y/n off guard. His eyes lit up with mischief as he singled out a particular book, a book that seemed entirely out of place amidst the scholarly tomes. Before y/n could fully register what was happening, the book was in his hands, its contents displayed openly.

Wei Wuxian's playful demeanor was infectious, his intent to shock and amuse clear in his expression. The fact that he was openly displaying such a book in the library was both audacious and typical of his irreverent nature.

"See how the illustration shows the love between the two," Wei Wuxian's teasing voice echoed through the air, his words carrying a playful undertone. His mischief was evident as he openly commented on the explicit content of the book, daring to highlight the intricate details that illustrated a different kind of connection.

Y/n's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, her embarrassment escalating as Wei Wuxian continued to engage with the book's content. The combination of his commentary and the nature of the book itself created a swirl of emotions within her, a mix of discomfort, surprise, and an odd sort of fascination.

"Why you've been awfully quiet, xiao-mei," Wei Wuxian's words were a playful challenge, his gaze dancing with mischief. His insinuation was lighthearted, yet it managed to stoke the flames of her embarrassment. "Perhaps this scene excites you."

Y/n's heart raced, her own teasing retort caught in her throat as she attempted to quell her blush. She averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure amidst the whirlwind of emotions that had been stirred. The blush on her cheeks was evidence of her internal conflict, a battle between her desire to maintain her poise and the sheer audacity of the situation.

"It's forbidden to look at such things, Master Wei," y/n's voice carried a note of calm and propriety, an attempt to steer the conversation toward more acceptable territories. Her words were a gentle reminder of the boundaries that governed their world, even in the midst of playful interactions.

"Aww, don't start acting like Master Grumpy over here," Wei Wuxian's playful retort carried a tone of mock exasperation. His words were accompanied by a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. His nickname for Lan Wangji was delivered in a teasing manner.

"Perhaps you're this shy because you imagine this to be you and Lan Wangji instead," Wei Wuxian's whispered words were like a mischievous breeze, carrying a playful insinuation that brushed against y/n's ear. His teasing was evident, his voice laced with a knowing tone that hinted at a deeper understanding.

"That's preposterous," y/n's response came out in a gentle stutter, her cheeks aflame with a mixture of embarrassment and surprise. The idea he proposed was absurd, and yet there was an underlying truth to his words that she found herself unable to entirely deny.

Wei Wuxian's grin widened, his amusement evident as he watched her reaction. His ability to tease and prod at the edges of her thoughts was a testament to his intuition and the shared moments they had experienced. His willingness to blur the lines between playful banter and deeper truths was both exasperating and oddly endearing.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your secret fascination with Lan Wangji," Wei Wuxian's words carried a tone of assurance, his playful tone weaving a web of intrigue. His teasing was a dance of words, a playful acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface.

As the weeks unfolded, a new layer of complexity began to emerge in the interactions between y/n and Lan Wangji. The possessiveness that had once been hinted at grew more pronounced, like a shadow gradually lengthening with the setting sun. Each time Wei Wuxian made an appearance, Lan Wangji's demeanor underwent a subtle shift. The spark of jealousy that ignited within him seemed to cast a cloud over his interactions with others, especially when it came to y/n.

Wei Wuxian's presence, once a source of playful banter and lighthearted moments, now elicited a different reaction from Lan Wangji. The elder Lan's tendency to ignore him and divert y/n's attention was a testament to the depth of his emotions. It was as if he couldn't bear the thought of sharing her attention, even for a moment, with anyone else.

Amidst these dynamics, there existed moments that lingered in y/n's memory, moments that seemed to hold a significance that transcended the ordinary interactions. One such moment, when they were alone together at night, seemed to resonate within her thoughts. The quiet intimacy of that setting, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight, left an indelible impression.

As y/n read the scroll to Lan Wangji, she could feel his gaze on her. A gaze that held a depth of emotion she couldn't fully decipher. Her cheeks warmed as she realized the intensity of his observation. His eyes, like stars in the night sky, seemed to hold a universe of unspoken feelings.

In that stillness, her own thoughts drifted, and she found herself captivated by the details that had escaped her notice before. The way his lips curved slightly as he listened, the way his brows furrowed in concentration, and the way his presence seemed to envelop her in a cocoon of quiet companionship.

The moment took an unexpected turn, shifting from the realms of unspoken understanding to a more tangible connection. As y/n made to exit the scene, Lan Wangji's sudden action stopped her in her tracks. The feeling of his hand grasping hers was a delicate yet undeniable sensation, a touch that sent a jolt of electricity through her veins.

Her eyes met his, and in that shared gaze, a profound understanding seemed to pass between them. It was as if the barriers that had held them apart had momentarily dissolved, leaving only a sense of raw vulnerability and a connection that defied definition.

The realization struck y/n like a bolt of lightning, the significance of what had just transpired, the unspoken implications of the act.

"Sorry, Hanguang-Jun," y/n's voice held a mixture of sincerity and contrition as she bowed, her posture a reflection of her respect for him. The weight of the moment lingered in the air, a tangible reminder of the boundary that had been crossed.

With a quick withdrawal of her hand, she departed the scene, the weight of the forbidden nature of their interaction lingering like a bittersweet aftertaste.

As y/n's words and actions sank in, Lan Wangji found himself grappling with a mix of emotions. Confusion, like a cloud, hung over his thoughts. He had allowed her to touch his forehead ribbon, an act that held profound significance in their world. It was a gesture he had reserved for those closest to him, only family and cultivation partners. And yet, in that moment, he had permitted her to cross that sacred boundary.

The weight of his own actions began to dawn on him. Why had he allowed her to do something that was forbidden? His feelings for y/n had been growing steadily, like a quiet flame that couldn't be easily extinguished. The strength of his emotions had caught him off guard, leaving him to question the choices he had made.

The memory of her leaving the scene, the abruptness of her departure, was a puzzle he couldn't unravel. He had seen something in her eyes, a connection that seemed to mirror his own feelings. And yet, she had withdrawn, as if the very act of removing his forehead ribbon had awakened a realization that needed distance.

[redwinterroses]

Rendog dreams.

"So you're trying the whole king thing again, huh boss?"

He's standing on the balcony of the Crastle and he whirls around, snatching the tiny crown off his head as if he's been caught doing something shameful. "Martyn?"

Martyn leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and one foot propped up on the doorframe. He's got a smirk on his face and an arrow in his throat.

"What?" he asks, raising one eyebrow the sardonic way he always does, apparently unbothered by the fatal wound. "Surprised to see me?"

"To be frank," Ren says, disbelieving, "Yeah?"

"I heard my old boss was setting up as head honcho again." Martyn shrugs. "Couldn't miss out on that."

There's crimson staining the grey edges of the Hand's smile, and his once-emerald eyes are flat and glassy. Ren swallows down a feeling that's somewhere between guilt and horror and guilt over feeling horror.

"It's... good to see you," he manages, turning the tiny crown in sweaty circles. His thumb catches on the prongs holding the emerald in place. "It's been a long time, bro."

A shadow darkens Martyn's grey face and he looks past Ren, into the cloudy sky beyond. There's a storm building on the horizon. "Yeah," he says, and some note in his voice makes Ren's fur stand on end. "I don't... get out much, these days."

A moment of awkward silence hovers over them, and Ren finds himself itchy with restless frustration. They never used to have awkward silence. Whether it was him mumbling enchantments or Martyn going over lists of assets, whether it was Ren trying to explain the oddities of Hermitcraft or Martyn telling hilarious stories that got progressively more unbelievable but he swore were true... Silence had never been the sound of Dogwarts.

"Why?"

Ren jumps when Martyn's voice breaks the silence like a hammer to glass. "What?"

Martyn pushes himself upright and takes a step closer, letting his arms fall to his sides. It's not threatening, but Ren finds his feet shuffling backwards anyway. He clutches the crown tighter.

"Why again with the king shtick?" Martyn's dead eyes drill into Ren's soul. "One fallen kingdom isn't enough for you?"

Ren swallows, reaching one hand behind him to feel for the edge of the balustrade. "I... I dunno, man. I guess—I guess I thought maybe I could... do better this time."

Martyn huffs an unamused half-laugh. "I mean, you could hardly do worse."

That stings, and Ren can't stop himself from wincing. "I'm sorry, Martyn, I didn't mean to—'

"No no—sorry." Martyn holds up one placating hand and Ren sees the dirt and blood caked under his nails. "My bad. That sounded a bit harsh, didn’t it.”

“You’re not wrong, though.” Ren’s shoulders sag and he looks down at the crown. “We never stood a chance back… back there.”

“We could have won,” Martyn says, and Ren looks up to find him tensing his jaw. “You could have tried.” The arrow in his neck trembles.

There's blood staining the front of his shirt, Ren notices distantly. It's still wet.

"To what ending, dude? The two of us go head-to-head on Black Heart Altar?" Ren gives a nervous laugh. "Nah, man: that game only had one winner. And it was never going to be us."

They stand in silence for a moment, the mountain wind blowing between them.

"I fought for you." The words are out before Ren consciously thinks them, and he flinches at the way they fall from his mouth like stones.

Martyn tilts his head. "You did," he agrees, but it sounds like an accusation. "And I fought for you."

"I would have given you that victory." The confession is heavy, weighted with truth and resentment.

Martyn doesn’t look surprised. “Yeah. I know you would have.” I wouldn’t have done the same. He doesn’t speak the words, but Ren hears them anyway. Martyn’s a pragmatist—he’d have fought for everything he was worth. Like he had a world to gain or lose—though Ren shudders to think what living alone in that blood-soaked world would have been like.

He thinks he knows why Grian jumped.

The stone railing under his hand is cold and pitted, the marble worn by wind and time, and he can feel the wind curling up from the valley below, ruffling the fur on the back of his neck.

“Do you think you can do it this time?” Martyn asks. He takes another step forward, and it takes everything in Ren not to move away. His Hand is within arm’s reach, his grey skin papery and dry, and his cracked lips forming the question with what sounds like idle curiosity but feels like a threat.

Ren deliberately relaxes his fists. Martyn is not a threat. Not his Hand.

“Do—do what?” he manages, throat dry.

“Keep your crown.” Martyn raises one hand and reaches to touch the tiny crown with the tip of one finger—delicate, as if he might break it. “Think you can do that, in a world with less to lose?”

In a world without your Red Army? Can you at least manage that much?

Ren no longer knows what words are Martyn’s and what are his own mind’s. “I—” he stammers, leaning back against the railing. Martyn’s eyes don’t blink, and this close he can see where the skin of his gums is pulling away from the teeth—teeth that look longer and sharper than they should.

“I think you’re trying to prove a point.” Now Martyn lifts that lifeless hand to rest it on Ren’s shoulder, a dark mockery of the casual and friendly way he always had. Camaraderie decays into menace, heavier than a dozen crowns.

“I… I am?” Words stick in Ren’s throat, dry and choking. Martyn would never hurt me. Not willingly. Not Martyn.

“Yup.” Martyn pops the ‘p’, and a wafting breath of rot reaches Ren’s nostrils. “You’re trying to prove that no matter what world you’re in, you can never win.”

Bristling, Ren straightens. “That’s utterly ridiculous—”

“You want to prove that it’s not your fault,” Martyn continues, talking over Ren like he can’t even hear him. “That if you can’t hold onto a crown here—” he almost spits the word, a spasm of distaste contorting his features. “—in a world with nothing to lose, then of course you couldn’t have done it there.”

His fingers—bony and cold—dig into Ren’s shoulder, sharp and clawlike. Ren winces, but he can’t pull free. Martyn leans close, his dead face inches from Ren’s own. The arrow in his throat presses into Ren’s chest, and his voice is hard:

“You want to prove you didn’t get us all killed.”

“Not true!” Ren’s knees buckle under the weight of Martyn’s hand, and he sags back against the balustrade. “I did everything I could to—”

“No.” Martyn shakes his head, and the hand on Ren’s shoulder moves to grip his throat. He forces Ren’s head up and back, to look up at the towers of the Crastle rising over their heads. “You didn’t then, and you’re not now. You could be a king, Ren—but you give up too soon. And who pays the price?”

Skizz. Etho. BigB.

Ren swallows, gulping for precious air.

Bdubs.

Cleo—Iskall—Joe—Scar—

He drops the crown, the heavy gold clattering to the stone floor with an ear-piercing ring. He reaches up to grip Martyn’s wrist with both hands, trying not to flinch at the cold, unyielding, dead flesh.

“Martyn—please. I’ll try—I’ll really try, I swear—”

“No.”

Martyn’s voice is as hard as his hand, but there’s something like pity mixed with the disgust and disappointment in his face.

“No, mate, you’re going to fall this time too. You already set your own trap.” He shakes his head and lifts Ren off the ground, holding him by the neck as if he weighs nothing. Ren chokes, feet scrabbling for purchase, the stone railing knocking into the backs of his knees.

“Martyn—”

“Long live the king, Ren. Better luck next time.”

And Martyn drops him over the edge.

Ren falls, reaching for his Hand, a scream stillborn in his throat.

He wakes before he hits the ground.

Rendog snaps upright in bed with a choked cry, hand flying to his chest to clutch at his heart through the thin fabric of his sleeping shirt. His pulse pounds in his ears and he can feel the telltale chill of tears in the damp fur on his cheeks and neck. In the dim moonlight, his eyes find a golden gleam across the room.

The tiny crown sits on his dresser, its emerald eye winking at him. Mocking him.

Long live the king.

He shivers. There was no mistaking the threat, spoken through Martyn’s voice.

Better luck next time.

...Next time.

[delta-pavonis]

Drabble: Red Dress

Dreamling (vampire!Hob/AFAB trans!Dream AU) || Rated E || just under 1k words || complete

Alternate Universe - Magic, vampire!Hob, trans!Dream, AFAB Dream, established relationship, oral sex, cunnilingus, menstrual sex, graphic descriptions of blood, discussion of breeding, discussion of fertility, discussion of a trans man getting pregnant, kissing with menstrual blood on face and lips Read on AO3 or under the cut

NOTES: First, I was trying to figure out a title for this drabble and stumbled across the poem at the start. While I know that the title of the poem is "What Do Women Want?" and that clashes with AFAB trans Dream, I just loved the sentiment in the latter half of the poem so much that I needed to include it. Second, no, stopping one's menstruation via pharmaceutical means does NOT make the flow heavier. I made that up here for plot purposes.

I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm your worst fears about me, to show you how little I care about you or anything except what I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment from its hanger like I’m choosing a body to carry me into this world, through the birth-cries and the love-cries too, and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin, it’ll be the goddamned dress they bury me in. from “What Do Women Want?” by Kim Addonizio

When Hob brings his head up from between Dream’s legs the image is a new definition of obscene. 

His face is smeared with fluids from his cheekbones down, everything from pearly delicate pinks to the deep sensual red of a rich cabernet sauvignon. It crosses the arch of his nose, just below where cartilage meets bone, and reaches almost back to his ears. Bits of his short beard clump together into red-black wet points and crimson drips from from the teeth of his open mouth to color his panting tongue scarlet and rose-pink. 

Hob’s eyes are so much darker than usual, burgundy irises glinting with the shine of a ruby. He smiles and licks his teeth, emphasizing the pointed canines, then also cleans his lips. “Exquisite,” he purrs.

Dream falls back into the pillows with a whimper, “Holy fuck.” He flings an arm over his face, even the meager light from the candles on the table beside the bed too much additional stimulus. “Hob, please.”

A couple gentle licks between Dream’s folds make him tremble before he gets a response. “Yes, dearest?” How such a creature can sound so innocent Dream will never understand.

He realizes that he doesn’t know what he is begging for, he just lets his legs fall a little more open with a plaintive whine.

Hob’s kisses leave a wet trail on the inside of his thighs. “Oh, I know, sweet thing. I know,” he practically coos. “Do you even know what it is like to come without my bite anymore?” He nips at Dream’s skin but not enough to come close to breaking it; Dream sobs in frustration. “It seems that I can get enough blood this way to manage an erection. You have used your magic to hold static your moonphase for so long that you are bleeding profusely. You have prepared your body for me perfectly, my sweet sorcerer. I will have no problem drilling your cunt into screaming submission.”

Dream moans at the thought. “Then why now? Why wait until now to ask me to stop taking my potions?” he gasps. It has been almost a year since Dream found the emaciated vampire chained up amongst the other ‘oddities’ in Burgess’ collection, freed him along with the others who he was actually there for. Matthew had declared him insane for even going near the vampire, Lucienne had decried his willingness to risk the safety of the Dreaming for a vampire could learn much by taking one’s lifeblood. 

But Dream had been captivated even then. The vampire’s dull, almost lifeless gaze, had called to him. Desire had written him off as enthralled. Perhaps he was.

Hob doesn’t answer immediately, sucks and licks until he has taken at least another three mouthfuls and Dream’s eyes have started to fill with tears in his frustration with the lack of consistent attention to his clit. “I was waiting for a special occasion.” He hums, kissing below Dream’s navel. “It has been a long recovery from my imprisonment. I had been damaged more than I was willing to tell even you, dear one.” 

That gets the sorcerer’s attention and he is up on his elbows so that he can look at Hob properly. “Hob?”

Hob doesn’t meet his eyes at first, too busy nuzzling into the lowest part of Dream’s abdomen, kissing it reverently, smearing bloody fluids there and then licking them up. When he looks up to Dream his eyes are dark pits of vicious hunger, fully black from one end to the other. “I am healed completely. Now. I can fill you,” he bites, harder but still not hard enough to break skin, “with my seed.”

“What?” Dream gasps, breathless. He cannot possibly mean…

“I would breed you,” Dream interrupts Hob with a high-pitched cry, “my sweet sorcerer. If you will it. You could carry our children. Not turned against their will, but born to the night.” He nuzzles Dream’s belly again. “And most likely daywalkers as well, given your magic. How powerful it is. How it reaches out for me.” 

Dream never thought… never in his wildest fantasies that it could… that he… “Fuck.”

Hob crawls up his lover’s body and looks down at him, expression fond. “Only if you wish it. But you would be resplendent,” he presses their stomachs together, “rounded with child.” He slides down and nuzzles the pectoral muscles modified with magic long ago. “And never would you need feel lacking for not coming into milk, for our children would take to blood without hesitation. Either yours… or mine.”

Oh God. An image of Hob, infant in his arms – their child in his arms – taking nourishment from his body, sustained by his body as much as Dream’s. It is surreal. It is fantastical. It is everything.

Dream pulls Hob up by his hair and kisses him, uncaring that he is tasting his own menstrual blood. A squeak of surprise catches in Hob’s throat, but it is only a moment before he groans and curls around Dream’s tongue with his own. 

“I don’t know,” Dream pants into Hob’s mouth, both their lips darkened with blood now, “if I am even still fertile.”

Hob smiles, which is most certainly not the reaction Dream expected. “Well, it will certainly be fun to find out.”

[dent-de-leon]

DETAILS I COULD GET DOWN QUICKLY FOR LEO'S PLACE:

"It's right above a coffee shop called, The Endless Well. His apartment is very opulent, its cluttered--but cluttered with impeccable taste...It's packed with photographs on the wall and a very well curated collection of local artists in the Impressionist style. Most of the windows have stained glass in them...there's beautiful velvet curtains draped in an asymmetric, organic style...He owns, among other things--a record player, a radio, beautiful small music boxes...he has a grandfather clock, because--you must.

Each surface, each shelf, is filled with oddities detailing--not so much Candela, but...a love of opulence, a love of travel and seeing what one can, and a love of adventure and taste. Most striking is...a vanity, with a mirror--crimson red. It is sitting precisely opposite to Leo's bedroom door, which he usually keeps closed....There is a table, almost a plant table, but it's got a little vase of flowers and a silver tray. He's got a couple of couches and chairs set aside for company...We are stepping in from the bedroom door, not the front--which is strange."