Tumgik
#haunted forest england
moonmausoleum · 8 months
Text
The Endless Hauntings of Epping Forest in England
Epping Forest is an ancient forest filled with history and haunting. The big area it takes up houses countless ghosts, legends and paranormal mystery as well as being the dumping ground for murder victims as well as a cozy Sunday picnic spot. 
Epping Forest is an ancient forest filled with history and haunting. The big area it takes up houses countless ghosts, legends and paranormal mystery as well as being the dumping ground for murder victims as well as a cozy Sunday picnic spot.  Epping Forest, a sprawling expanse in Essex, England, holds within its ancient boughs a tapestry woven with threads of history, crime, and whispers of the…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
5 notes · View notes
corvidist · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hoosac Tunnel
A landmark of capitalist greed and murder in western Massachusetts, a minimum of 135 workers died building the Hoosac Tunnel, giving rise to claims of supernatural activity and the nickname "the bloody pit". The tunnel still operates today as one of the longest in North America.
6 notes · View notes
hauntjaunts · 2 years
Text
Sideworld Docs Explore Forgotten Paranormal and Folk Lore
Sideworld Docs Explore Forgotten Paranormal and Folk Lore
“When the line between fact and fiction is enshrouded in mist and shadow, beyond that threshold is a place that can change our perspective on everything we think we know. I call this place…the Sideworld.”  Rubicon Films and director George Popov are no strangers to the spookier side of filmmaking. They’ve released feature films such as Hex, a historical horror, and The Droving, a mystery…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
transbookoftheday · 7 months
Text
Trans Horror Podcasts
My post about trans horror books last year was much more popular than I expected, and since I've recently fallen in love with fiction podcasts and audio dramas, I thought I'd make a post about trans horror podcasts as well.
If you like trans horror, please give these a try - especially if you enjoy listening to audiobooks!
Hello From The Hallowoods:
Tumblr media
Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, an eldritch narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.
Hello From The Hallowoods is my absolute favorite podcast! If you only listen to one podcast from this list, please make it this one - it's so beautifully written and super queer! Also: season 4 starts today!
Trans main characters include:
our nonbinary eye-affiliated podcast host
a nonbinary "Frankenstein's creature"
a transmasc ghost
a genderfluid storm witch
a trans woman who can visit other people's dreams
multiple characters using neopronouns
Camp Here & There:
Tumblr media
Good morning, campers! Camp Here & There is a weekly horror comedy podcast tuned in to the loudspeakers of a small midwestern sleepaway camp plagued by supernatural terrors and natural disasters. Sydney Sargent, resident camp nurse, cheerfully reports on all the terror we must face with a big smile. Let’s hope there’s nothing weird about that!
Sydney is a trans man.
Dos: After You:
Tumblr media
Things have changed. Deck has fallen in love with someone who isn't human, and leaves a hungry house behind to see him again. Will he be waiting for you? The world has changed… but what about him? Dos: After You is a queer urban fantasy/horror audiodrama available in both English & Spanish
Deck is a trans man.
Jar of Rebuke:
Tumblr media
Follow Dr. Jared Hel's journey as he works to re-discover his forgotten past and finds his place within the small Indiana farm town of Wichton and the cryptozoological organization he works for called 'The Enclosure'. These audio journals, and other recordings, dive deep into Midwestern US cryptids and folklore while also telling a mystery about identity, queerness, neurodivergence, and community.
Jared is nonbinary.
Spirit Box Radio:
Tumblr media
Spirit Box Radio is an award winning, horror audio drama podcast about a radio show for enthusiasts of all things arcane. Follow Sam Enfield a former postboy with no experience in the arcane arts, who finds themselves forced to take over running the show, following the disappearance of the previous host. Sam soon discovers there are more than ghosts haunting the show, and finds himself amidst a mystery which threatens everything he knows about the world beyond his tiny basement broadcast studio, and maybe even himself.
Sam is a trans man.
The Silt Verses:
Tumblr media
Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations amongst the reeds and the wetlands. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories. This is a world where divine intervention takes place through prayer-markings scratched into stumping-posts, and offerings are left squirming to die in the flats of the delta. This is a world of ritual, and hidden language, and sacrifice. This is folk horror, and fantasy, and a dark road trip into the depths of unusual faith.
Faulkner is a trans man and Paige is a trans woman.
The Magnus Protocol:
Tumblr media
The Magnus Archives 2: The Magnus Protocol is the prequel/sequel/”sidequel” to the internationally renowned Magnus Archives podcast. The Magnus Institute was an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal, based out of Manchester, England. It burned to the ground in 1999. There were no survivors. Now, almost 25 years later, Alice and Sam, a pair of low-level civil service workers at the underfunded Office of Incident Assessment and Response, have stumbled across its legacy. A legacy that will put them in grave danger. If this intrigues you then it is our pleasure to welcome you to the Office of Incident, Assessment and Response. Make sure you pick up your badge at desk and report to your line manager before sitting down. Oh and stay away from I.T., seriously.
Alice is a trans woman.
801 notes · View notes
blackbirdswillsing · 9 months
Text
On Gothic
a cute helpful guide on the gothic subculture that no one asked for <3
goth music springing from the late 1970s after the post punk movement was a subculture heavily inspired by the themes found in victorian gothic literature
gothic literature:
frankenstein - mary shelley
dracula - bram stoker
jekyll and hyde - robert stevenson
wuthering heights - emily bronte
rebecca - daphne du maurier
edgar allen poe <3
Tumblr media
some keywords that come from gothic literature that can help you spot a goth song:
'dark' 'death' 'black' 'cold' 'heaven' 'hell' 'witches 'bats' 'night' 'roses' 'blood' 'church' 'forest' 'jesus' 'grey' 'horror' 'shadow' 'sacrifice' 'tears' 'ghost' 'spells' 'cry' 'love' 'haunted' 'funeral' 'cathedral'
Some other themes in a song that can help you to decide if it goth or not can be:
heavy bass
synth sounds (the song sounds like it was recorded in an empty church)
mysterious and whimsical vocals
deep vocals
lack of a (electric) guitar
The 1980's and 90's were the peak for the gothic subculture, especially in camden market, london, england
Tumblr media
Some bands that were prominent at the time were...
Bauhaus
The Cure
Sisters of Mercy
Siouxsie and the Banshees
Christian Death
Clan of Xymox
The Cramps
Depeche Mode
New Order
Joy Division
Alien Sex Fiend
Fields of the Nephilim
Killing Joke
The Damned
Nick Cave
Softcell
Tumblr media
Some other goth band recs:
Boy Harsher
Children on Stun
Earth Calling Angela
Molchat Doma
Forever Grey
Horror Vacui
Lebanon Hanover
London After Midnight
Male Tears
The March Violets
The Merry Thoughts
Paradise Lost
Paralysed Age
Plastique Noir
Rendez Vous
Rosetta Stone
Selofan
She Wants Revenge
Skinny Puppy
Specimen
This Cold Night
Tragic Black
Traitrs
Type O Negative
Twin Tribes
ULTRA SUNN
Xmal Deutschland
Your Funeral
The 69 Eyes
Tumblr media
Please let me know which ones i've missed because these are just ones that I have taken from my own playlist!
The music is the number one most important part of goth subculture and you don't have to dress goth to be goth... but it sure is fun to do so! Goth fashion holds its roots in thrifting, upcycling and sustainable fashion (buying 'goth' clothes from shein, dollskill and killstar is a big no no).
Anyone can style their gothic outfits however they like but here are some examples of different styles:
Trad(itional) Goth:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Romantic Goth:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Victorian Goth:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The styles can get very similar so let me know if i’ve mixed any up!
I’ve reached the limit on the number of pictures i can add so here are some more examples of goth styles:
Corporate goth
Gothabilly
Mall Goth
Cyber Goth
J-Goth
Baby Bat
Mopey Goth
Vampire Goth
Steam punk
To end the post i'm circling back to gothic literature by listing some films too (which are often based on the books)
Everyone's beloved: Bela Lugosi in the first adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula in 1931
Tumblr media
The Crow 1994 which comes with a song from The Cure
Tumblr media
Interview with the Vampire 1994
Tumblr media
The Rocky Horror Picture Show 1975
Tumblr media
Edward Scissor Hands 1990
Tumblr media
The Addams family 1991 (if he's not like gomez then i don't want him)
Tumblr media
The Craft 1996
Tumblr media
That's all I have for now and if you made it this far thank you so much for reading and have a nice day <3
current goth song on repeat:
595 notes · View notes
tomlinfonda · 1 year
Text
Inside me there are two wolves.
One who thinks that the writers are either stupid or cruel, and that the finale was so incomprehensibly bad that I shouldn't try to make sense of it. And that I should move on.
The other one is a subtext-and-metaphor-hungry beast that is manically obsessed with finding a reason, at least subtextually, for the incomprehensible mess they made out of these characters, especially Ted, in the finale.
Everyone is so right to point out that Ted in previous episodes would not have acted like this. I think the reason for the sudden regression in his character is Dottie.
That morning, full of smiles, in a good mood, Ted starts his walk to work.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He cheerfully strolls through the streets, saying hello to his neighbors, making chit-chat with them. He is (as Trent said it in 1x03) out there in the community. He is, more importantly, part of a community. Until suddenly-
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Mom?"
Dottie's arrival changes everything. Ted gets worse and worse throughout the episode. In the hotel room in Manchester, the football anthem "Blue Moon", with the haunting lyric "You saw me standing alone" plays over Ted's lonesome figure, in the shadows, depressed.
Juxtapose that with his first scene: the lively neighborhood and daylight.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
At the end of the episode, his conversation with his (manipulative) mom hits him deep. He feels immense guilt over not being there for Henry. And he's been torn over this for the entire season.
Tumblr media
His mom, and the way she acts, and the way she manipulates him, push him in the wrong direction: Kansas.
I think Ted has disassociated for most of the finale. But I also think that he is intentionally pushing people away. Maybe he thinks that this will make it easier for him to leave, maybe he thinks that this will make it easier for them to let him go. Maybe he just hates himself so much that he cannot accept their help. Maybe he feels guilty that they're showing him so much love, when he knows he will abandon them.
Either way, he quits. Something that he would not have done, even in season 1. So his regression goes farther than the first episode, deeper into his past. He goes from:
Tumblr media
to having doubts on the plane about leaving without winning the whole fucking thing
Tumblr media
but leaving anyway.
And this is one of the most curious things to me. Rebecca offers to bring Henry to him in England by helping relocate Michelle:
Tumblr media
And yet, he refuses. So, sure, this is about being there for his son. But given the choice between his son with his beloved community, and his son without his beloved community, he chooses the latter.
I've heard the argument that we don't know for sure that Ted doesn't have a support system in Kansas. But from a narrative perspective, it's important that we haven't been shown that hypothetical support system at all. And given that he actually returns to Kansas without the one person who we know supported him before coming to England, it comes across as a terribly isolating situation.
So why would Ted choose to part from his found family, even though bringing his son into that family would be an option? My theory is that he just really fucking hates himself. I think he wants to punish himself, maybe for being away from Henry for so long, maybe for something else. I don't think he believes that he deserves love or even credit for how he helped the club.
I mean, Rebecca and Trent offer him exactly that this episode: credit for what the did for the club.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And he rejects them both, choosing instead to remove himself from their lives, to erase himself from the narrative.
I think he's lower mentally than we've seen him for a while.
I think he's in his dark forest.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So the plane departs and then lands. And Ted is back in Kansas, driven through the prosaic, picket-fenced, isolating, depressing American suburbs to the house where Henry and the ex-wife who doesn't love him are waiting for him.
Tumblr media
And the light might be golden, and he might be reunited with his son. But as we close in on the last shot of the show, you can see his smile try to fight the sadness in his eyes and you know.
He's not happy.
Tumblr media
558 notes · View notes
ckret2 · 1 year
Text
Guess who shows up in this chapter! With a ✨summer job✨!
Tumblr media
Unlearning the "act like a rich snob" instinct is an ongoing process.
Here's "Bill is the Mystery Shack's extremely sulky prisoner" chapter 10, featuring: a haunted living doll, a trip to Greasy's, Bill acting like a playground bully, and the twins figuring out how they feel about another summer of triangle bullshit. Other chapters here.
####
Late in the morning, Mabel came home from a sleepover at Candy's. She went to the upstairs bathroom to shower.
The bathroom looked like a salon got in a fight with Bill's hair and won. The wet floor was coated in shorn golden locks like fallen soldiers. The air reeked of hair treatment chemicals and sick. There was a towel smeared with blood.
Maybe she'd brush her teeth downstairs and shower later.
She fished her toothbrush out of her sleepover bag, gingerly plucked the toothpaste from the sink, and retreated.
Bill's nest by the attic window seat was abandoned. In his place were half a dozen empty cans of hard cider and a sandwich with three bites taken out of it.
Mabel descended the stairs warily.
Soos's blanket of the anti-Bill zodiac no longer hung on the living room wall. 
Mabel moved on to the downstairs half-bath. She pulled aside the doorway curtain.
There, sitting in the dark, curled into a ball in the small space between the sink and the toilet, was a human shape. Draped over it was Soos's zodiac blanket. The head of the thing under the blanket lifted and blindly turned toward the sound of Mabel drawing the curtain. The zodiac was positioned just right so that the image of Bill Cipher covered the hidden face like a mask. The false Bill stared into Mabel's eyes.
Mabel quietly backed out of the bathroom. She let the curtain fall shut.
She stood in the hallway, hand to her chin, contemplating the omens she'd witnessed.
She said, "Something happened last night."
####
Less than a week into summer vacation, Dipper and Mabel had seen every single movie currently playing. (They'd even seen the R movies, after getting advice from Jeff on how to convincingly pull off the "two kids in a trench coat" gambit. Thompson made direct eye contact with Dipper in the theater lobby. He said nothing.)
They'd hung out with all their friends, had at least one meal over at each of their houses, and caught up on a school year's worth of gossip. Mabel had sleepovers nearly every night, alternating between Grenda's and Candy's houses. Even Dipper had voluntarily subjected himself to an evening of aggressive girliness in order to tag along for one of the sleepovers. (They'd probably only gotten permission because Grenda's mother assumed "Mabel's twin" must be a sister.)
They found a fairy ring in the forest that connected to a crop circle in Wiltshire, England. They discovered a crane game at the mall that was full of haunted dolls. They took Waddles for a walk and had to save him from a cult of feral flower children that wanted to sacrifice him to their love shack.
In other words, they did everything they could think of to avoid home.
When they were in the Mystery Shack, they were either in their bedroom or using the bathroom. They avoided the kitchen and living room as much as they could, and they fell silent when they heard the floor creaking outside their room, in case of an eavesdropper. They tiptoed whenever they had to go near Bill's nest by the attic window seat to reach the stairs. They grew accustomed to strange thuds and quickly cut-off arguments, although they never became comfortable with them. They got used to waking up afraid.
The plague of hair was new; but it was, they had to agree, exactly the kind of thing they expected at this point.
"You could collect some of the hair," Dipper's haunted porcelain doll suggested. "You could make a poppet. It would let you control him. I could teach you how. All you need is that hair, five black candles, a doll—"
"Nope," Dipper said. He was getting dressed in their bedroom alcove with the curtain drawn. "You're always trying to make more haunted dolls, Bartholomew, and the answer's always no!"
"It won't be haunted!" Bartholomew insisted. "Honest! I promise! Not initially. Until you use it to kill Bill."
"Listen, young man." Mabel scooped the porcelain doll up from the cardboard cradle she'd made for him. "We've told you, we can't kill Bill until we know it won't cause the apocalypse. Do you want the world to end?"
Bartholomew let out the longest, heaviest sigh that had ever come out of a doll with an unmoving face. "No. I don't."
"That's right. So reign in that bloodthirst, Barty!"
"Ugh. Fine."
"Good!" She set Bartholomew back down.
Dipper asked, "Could we use a poppet to control him in non-fatal ways, though?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Torture it, restrain it, freeze it, burn it, cast spells on it, soak it in lemon juice, throw it in the dryer—hey, that one's really funny—"
Dipper pulled aside the curtain and looked at Mabel. "Maybe a poppet wouldn't be a bad idea. In case Bill tries anything."
They collected the biggest, healthiest lock of hair they could find off the bathroom floor, stuck it in a sandwich bag they found at the bottom of Dipper's backpack, stored the bag in the backpack, and left the house to look for brunch.
####
Dipper and Mabel had been putting off visiting Greasy's Diner as long as possible, hoping that at least Grunkle Stan could come along for their first visit of the summer, if not the whole Pines family; but after coping with another morning of Bill-related nonsense, and hearing from Soos that Stan and Ford had also been up half the night dealing with said nonsense and would probably sleep in, they decided they really needed to visit somewhere as comforting and familiar as possible. And so, off they went to Greasy's. Lazy Susan warmly greeted them, asked when Stan would come by, showed them to a booth, and then left them with a couple of menus and their glum thoughts.
"Dipper?" Mabel spun the laminated menu on the table top. "You remember how at the start of last summer, we just thought Grunkle Stan was some weird smelly old guy and we wanted to do anything except hang out with him?"
"Ugh, don't remind me. If this was last year, I'd be sweeping up dead hair instead of getting breakfast right now." He laughed weakly; but he knew that wasn't what Mabel was getting at. "This is even worse, isn't it."
She stopped spinning her menu to look across the table at Dipper. "We still haven't spent any real time with Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford, but this time I feel all guilty about it."
"I'm pretty sure they feel guilty about it, too."
"It's not their fault, though."
It wasn't Dipper and Mabel's fault, either, but pointing that out wouldn't help. Dipper felt like they'd callously abandoned their grunkles in Bill-infested territory while they ran off to have fun. The fact Stan and Ford kept telling the kids that they wanted them to have fun didn't lessen the feeling that they were traitors. "Grunkle Stan did say we could take a fishing trip once everyone's figured out the best... guard schedule."
"I know, but there's still..." Mabel waved a hand in vague circles. "All this. I almost feel like..."
She didn't want to say out loud that she wanted to go home; saying it would start tilting their course in that direction. If she said it, and if she found out that Dipper agreed, then it might come true. And nothing would be worse than that.
Dipper didn't want to say it, either. "This won't be all summer," he said. "Grunkle Ford's already got a weapon that can get rid of B—Goldie's body and whatever's inside of it, no matter if he's human or alien. It's just out of fuel. He only needs enough to take one shot, and then the rest of our summer goes back to normal. Right?"
Mabel took a moment too long to reply. "Right," she said. "It's that quantum jumbo-laser thing you told me about, right?"
"Yeah, the quantum destabilizer."
"How long will it take him to get the fuel it needs?" Mabel asked. "Is there anything we can do? I hate just having to... steer around everything while the grown-ups try to deal with it without us."
"Yeah. So do I."
Before Dipper had to admit that he didn't know what it would take to refuel the quantum destabilizer, someone approached the table. "Hey, I'll be your waitress this morning. Do you guys have any questions about the menu, or..." The waitress trailed off in horror as she registered her guests' faces. "Oh no."
Dipper and Mabel gaped. "Pacifica?!"
She hid her face behind her notebook. "Don't say anything. Do not say anything."
"You work here?" Mabel asked, followed immediately by Dipper, "You work?"
Pacifica's cheeks flushed. "Don't make a big deal out of it okay! I'm not, like, working-working! I'm just—making some pocket money, that's all!"
"That's working-working," Mabel said.
"Pacifica—" Dipper had to choke back a laugh at the absurd sight. She was wearing normal people clothes. She was wearing an apron. "What."
"Okay, look!" She slapped her notebook on the table. "It's not like I'm poor or anything? But after we built a smaller manor, my parents slashed my allowance—my wardrobe budget only covers a new summer/spring wardrobe instead of summer and spring wardrobes—and like... it's hard, okay? So I'm just—doing a few odd little gigs or whatever. To keep up with my hobbies! That's it."
Dryly, Dipper said, "Wow. Earning money if you want to buy things."
"It must be so hard." Mabel was doing a slightly less successful job of maintaining a poker face.
"Oh, whatever! You two just don't appreciate the value of hard work." Over Dipper and Mabel's giggles, Pacifica stuck her nose in the air and went on, "I'm investing in my future. I'm picking up part-time jobs while you two are spending your summer goofing off! It's like you're saying you don't want to have money."
Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Mabel said, "Soos said he'll pay us $20 an hour to help in the gift shop."
"He what?!" Pacifica's jaw dropped. "Shut up! There is no way that cheesy tourist trap can afford those kinds of wages! Is it even legal for Soos to hire you! Aren't you, like, thirteen!"
Dipper said, "Aren't you thirteen?"
Pacifica huffed. "Never mind, I don't even care about your dumb job! This isn't even my main income stream. I've got this great modeling gig coming up with a huge paycheck, so—forget you you guys!" She flipped her hair and stomped off.
And immediately stomped back. "I forgot to take your orders."
"Pancakes." "Also pancakes."
"Fine." She re-flipped her hair and stomped off.
Mabel leaned across the table to whisper to Dipper, "Wow, the return of Rudy McSnootypants! Did she switch from acting snobby over being rich to acting snobby over being working class?"
"She's probably just embarrassed," Dipper said. "She's actually been pretty cool the last few months. When we play Bloodcraft together, she's... I mean, okay, during PVP matches she's the rudest person you've ever met, and she's the worst to healers—but she's nice enough outside of that."
"Oh, yeah." Mabel grinned. "Guess she never mentioned her new job while you guys were playing, huh?"
"Nope."
"You're probably right! She was nice when I talked to her about making her blanket. She even shipped new materials to me when she wanted alpaca yarn instead of acrylic."
Dipper laughed, "Wow, I can't believe Pacifica had to get a job just to afford your blanket."
"What can I say, I'm a master artisan!"
Pacifica returned, set down two plates of pancakes and two sodas, and said, "This is a bribe. Free drinks all summer if you don't tell anybody else about this. The only reason my friends don't know is because they wouldn't be caught dead here. They cannot find out."
Mabel considered the offer. "Free drinks and dessert."
Pacifica bounced a heel as she considered the offer. "Only out of the half-off day-old pie case."
"That sounds fair."
"Okay. Deal. Um, thanks." Pacifica turned to go, then paused. "Hey, Dipper. Your uncles don't use the Internet, right? Does that mean you won't be available for Bloodcraft this summer?"
"Soos finally got the shack online. He says the Internet goes out when the weather's eldritch, but I can borrow his computer for our guild's weekly raids. He understands how important it is."
Pacifica's eyes lit up. "Cool. Then I'll see you on raid night."
"Yeah! See you then."
Pacifica left to tend to another table, and Dipper said, "Yeah, she was just embarrassed. She's fine. ... Why are you smiling."
"Weekly raids? Am I gonna have to warn Kelsey about Pacifica—?"
"Mabel!" Dipper's face flushed. "Come on, we're not—! Worry about your own love life. We've almost been here a week, haven't you found a new crush yet?"
"I've decided love will find me when it finds me. For now, I'm focusing on my matchmaking services."
"Well! Make a match somewhere else."
"You're sooo red right now. Bop." Mabel leaned across the table to poke Dipper's nose, then dug into her pancakes. "You know... even with everything going on—I'm glad we're here. Think! If we'd gone home as soon as we found out we'd be stuck with him all summer, we'd never have found out Pacifica is a waitress. Or met Barty-Mew! Mew-mew. Meow."
"So that makes it worth it, huh?"
"Yes! Being around our friends! Being part of their lives again. I don't want to miss out on that because I'm—afraid. Do you?"
Dipper half smiled. "No. I don't. If we were home, I'd just be missing Gravity Falls, and still worrying about him. At least here, we can keep an eye on him."
"Yeah!" Mabel beamed. "We got off to a little bit of a rocky start, but this summer's gonna be great! And there's nothing he can do to stop it! Right?" She offered her fist.
"Right." Dipper fistbumped her.
####
Stan and Ford were worrying over coffee mugs in the kitchen when the door opened, but both their faces lit up when they saw Dipper and Mabel in the entryway. Stan said, "Hey, kids! Whaddaya doing back here?"
"Soos said you'd just gone out," Ford said. "We weren't expecting you back until this evening."
Mabel bounded into the kitchen. "We decided to hang out here today!" She hugged Stan and Ford in turn.
Stan looked between them in surprise. "Really? To do what?"
Mabel said, "Art project!" at the same time Dipper said, "Sorcery."
"I'm gonna sew a doll with Barty," Mabel said. "We'll figure out what to do with the rest of the day after that."
Dipper said, "Grunkle Ford, do you know anything about poppets?"
"Huh." He stroked his chin. "I'm familiar with the concept, but I've never encountered a working one myself. I probably can't tell you much you don't know yourself."
"That's okay." Dipper puffed his chest out. "After we've made one, maybe I can show you my research on them?"
Ford smiled. "Maybe you can. We still haven't compared our past year's research notes, have we? I just haven't been able to find time, with..." His smile faltered.
Firmly, Dipper said, "We'll make time."
"But later!" Mabel insisted, hanging off the kitchen doorframe by one hand, "C'mon, Dipper! Arts and witchcrafts!" She bounded up the attic stairs two at a time. Dipper followed after her.
Stan turned to Ford. "Who's Barty?" Ford shrugged.
Mabel's upward dash paused at the top of the stairs. The zodiac blanket-bedecked specter was back upstairs in his usual spot, curled up in the window seat, apparently trying to read a book through the gaps in the yarn.
But she quickly gathered her courage again. "Hey! Stinky!"
Bill turned to face her. "Yello?"
Mabel planted her hands on her hips. "I'm not afraid of you! There's nothing you can do to make me afraid of you ever again!"
The yarn triangle face stared at Mabel in unimpressed indifference. "Ouch. You're breaking my heart, Shooting Star."
"And I'll break your face if you ever try to hurt my family again!" She turned away from Bill, did her best approximation of Pacifica's dismissive hair flip, and flounced off to the bedroom.
"Pfff." Bill turned toward Dipper as he came up the stairs and asked wryly, "What did I do to warrant that? Have I not been minding my own business and avoiding you people intimidatingly enough?"
Dipper did a startled double-take—this was his first time seeing the zodiac blanket ghost—but he said, "No. No quippy banter. We're not doing that. Banter is for friendly chess club rivals, not attempted murderers."
"Oh, you joined the chess club?"
"Shut up." Dipper stomped after Mabel, stopped, and about-faced to squint at Bill's book. "Is that—? How did you get my journal!"
"I summoned a living shadow and tasked it with bringing me your worst and deepest secrets— Just kidding. You left it in the bathroom, genius."
Dipper must have taken it out of his backpack when he was looking for a baggie for the hair sample. "Give it back!"
Bill held out the book—and jerked it back when Dipper reached for it. "Too slow!" He held it over his head. 
"Hey! Bill!" Dipper jumped for the book. "I know martial arts!"
Bill got up on his knees to keep the book out of Dipper's range. "And I like pain! Fighting me will annoy you more than it'll hurt me!"
"Come on, man!" Dipper stuck his fingers in the blanket like a cat climbing a curtain as he tried to reach the book. He took a deep breath. "GRUNKLE FO—"
"Don't!" Bill shoved Dipper back.
Dipper fell to the ground, taking the blanket with him. He groaned—then froze, staring at the burns, the bandages, the raw red-rimmed eyes.
Until Bill shoved Dipper's journal in his face. "Sheesh, relax." He glared down at Dipper, eyes squinting unevenly, a hard smile forced onto his face—then he snatched back the blanket. "You can't take a joke." He turned the blanket in his hands until he'd found his face again, then pulled it back on.
Dipper gave him a dark look, but retreated after Mabel.
Ford climbed the stairs just high enough to shoot Bill a suspicious look.
Bill returned the stare, head cocked in a pantomime of wide-eyed innocence. "What?" He flung his hands in the air. "What! I'm just sitting here!"
Ford narrowed his eyes, but went back downstairs. 
Bill's gaze drifted again to the kids' door. "'Not afraid of me,' huh? Pfft." He turned to watch the world through the window. "Yeah. That could be useful."
####
"What do you think?" Mabel asked, plopping the Bill-shaped doll in front of Bartholomew for inspection. It looked like a fabric gingerbread man. It had X's for eyes and was sticking its tongue out. "I made his dress out of a sock!" 
"I guess it'll do," Bartholomew said. "The clothes could be nicer."
"Nice clothes are for nice people. He can deal with the sock dress." She considered her handiwork again, then said, "I guess a few more flowers on the dress wouldn't hurt." She rummaged in her craft supply basket for her yellow puffy fabric paint, and asked, "How's that pentagram coming, bro?"
"Just about finished." He set the last candle on the fifth corner of the chalk star he'd drawn between their beds, checked to make sure all the lines were connected, then pulled out a matchbook and lit the candles. "Okay, now what?"
Bartholomew said, "Now, we wait until the next full moon to start the binding ritual."
"When's that?"
"In about two weeks."
Dipper looked at the pentagram, looked at Bartholomew, and said, "So why am I setting this up right now?"
"That's what I've been wondering."
Dipper grumbled and started blowing out candles.
Mabel pulled out a couple balls of yellow yarn and asked, "Hey Dipper, can you get the hair baggie? I need to see which shade of yellow matches Bill's hair better."
"Sure." He rummaged around in his backpack. "Although if you want the poppet to be accurate, you might as well leave it bald." He looked at Bartholomew. "Does accuracy affect how well a poppet works?"
"Not much," Bartholomew said. "Give it the hair. Blondes are hot."
"You're a creep." Mabel threw a yarn ball at Bartholomew's face. "What do you mean, 'leave it bald'?"
Dipper said, "I saw under the blanket. Bill looks like he burned half his head."
"Whaaat?"
"Yeah, except for a few patches on the back of his head, he's almost totally bald. Not much of a surprise, considering what the bathroom looks like, but—yeah." He snorted. "He must have tried to copy Grunkle Ford's shaving technique."
Mabel laughed; but it quickly petered out. "So... he's hiding because he's embarrassed?"
"Guess so," Dipper said. "Huh. Wow. It's... kinda less creepy when you put it that way. Even Bill Cipher can have bad hair days, I guess."
"I guess so."
Bill was in Sweater Town. Mabel considered that, staring at the bald doll she'd made.
Then she grabbed her ball of yarn and started giving the doll hair.
407 notes · View notes
shaylogic · 4 months
Text
DBDA Season 2 Wishlist Part 2:
Seeing the inside of Charles' Bag of Tricks and learning more about the mechanics of it
Charles running into one/some of the bullies that killed him. They're much older now. Maybe he has realizations about them like Edwin did with Simon. Or maybe they're still scum attacking people, and Charles poltergeist-haunts their asses
Finding out more about how Edwin learned all these languages, magic tools, and supernatural creatures lore. Did he pick it up in Hell or after he got back from it?
On that note, what exactly went down with him in Hell? "--traded to a demon who traded me to another demon who traded me to something WORSE than a demon!"
Crystal family/ancestor tree realm and powers. I'd love to learn more about each woman at the table, like Avatar past reincarnation life flashbacks
Niko new character love interest?
Mission to help Tragic Mick. Maybe we get to see Sedna?! Crystal could potentially make that happen, since she addressed Lilith and the Forest Spirit.
The Dandelion Sprites/"gods"? become cursed to be mortals and now they have to figure out how to navigate the world as attention-seeking assholes. Maybe they work with Crystal's parents lol
Crystal and Charles really make a go at dating to see if those feelings can really go anywhere, but there ends up being quite a bit of conflict and difficulty. Still, we get lots of nice ship moments in the early half of the season.
Edwin has started accepting and leaning into modern gay culture and tries chatting up guys to distract himself from Charles and Crystal (trying to be a good friend to Charles, especially).
If they can get the copyright permission, please gods give us Edwin and Niko watching Heartstopper together. Charles happens to witness a bi Nick scene when he's walking through.
More Niko & Charles friendship development. They didn't get enough moments together in season 1.
More ghost possession! The Night Nurse is already well aware of them, so they're not alerting her. But of course she would not allow it.
Night Nurse refuses to be a secretary and forces the boys to do paperwork after every case. They've got homework now.
Also, in s1e1, there's a pregnant pause between Edwin and Charles talking about the dangers of possession. There's a story there, and I need to know it in season 2. What did Edwin do? Who'd he try to possess?
More clear explanation to the audience of how touch works between humans/ghosts and ghosts/ghosts on various planes (earth vs hell for example, so we can go back to scream and cry at s. 1)
Crystal and Niko girls' day sightseeing in England!
Now we're in London, we're back on the boys' turf. Where are their main hangouts, contacts, and magic shops? Do they have any place special to the two of them with nostalgic memories? It's been 30 years!!!
We've seen some Edwin culture clash (and I want more!) but also more Charles culture clash with modern times (charles: "😮‍💨 Can you believe they don't make mixed tapes anymore?" Niko: "🥰they do playlists online now. I'll make you one! " Crystal: "👀 You made mixed tapes, Charles?")
Cat King and Meowpheus interaction
Domestic friend fluff (core four all in a big bed together watching movies)
Feel free to add your own wishlist in the reblogs/comments! <3
92 notes · View notes
thebunnyslibrary · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
In The Woods Somewhere
summary. You go into the woods to take some photos...but find him instead
characters. Vampire!Bucky x Reader
word count. 4.8k
warnings. Dub!Con, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Stockholm-ish, mentions of violence/blood.
BunBun's Spoop-tober Collection Masterlist / Main Masterlist
Tumblr media
Finally, your big break. You were finally getting the chance to publish a collection of your photos of haunted locations around New England with a real publishing company. Your final location was an abandoned church in the woods; thought to have been used by an early group of colonizers until it and the nearby settlement had been abandoned. No one knew for sure what had happened. Perhaps the colonizers had moved on? Maybe they were wiped out by plague? There was even a dark story of a minister who had started murdering villagers that were “unclean;” allegedly filling the church pews with corpses with slashed and bloody necks. Doing research on places before you took photos was one of your favorite parts; gathering information for the captions and essays you wrote to go with the photos.
After your parents had died while you were in college, it had left you feeling empty and directionless for some time. Then, after finally finishing your degree, you decided to use the money your parents had left you to buy a van and photograph the world.
You’d been working as a traveling photographer for a while now, doing gigs like weddings and events. You’d also managed to self-publish a few books and tried to sell your photos and art where you could. It wasn’t much but it kept you in gas money and beef jerky. You’d been all over North America and a few parts of South America. You were hoping to go international for a follow up book if this one was a success.
You pulled up to the walking trail that led into the forest. You had about an hour’s hike into the woods; knowing getting the shots at sunset would create perfect photos. You shrugged on your backpack with your supplies and with your camera case hand, headed off. The trees were washed in the golden hue of fall, starting to shed their leaves in preparation for their long winter sleep. A slight chill hung in the air but after 3 months of heat and humidity you were ready to be cold for a little bit.
Sometimes you listened to music when you hiked but today you’d decided to relish in the sounds of the forest.. Bird calls echoing off the trees, the rustling of the trail as you walked, squirrels and other small critters gathering their own winter supplies. A flock of geese calling out as they flew in v formation overhead and you quickly snapped a picture. Traveling and photography had given you an entirely deeper appreciation for nature and it’s beauty. An hour later, you stepped into the clearing where the church was set.
It was a small chapel, probably only fit to hold 10 or 15 people.  Most of the eastern wall had crumbled while the others were still partially there. Only one or two (maybe one and a half) benches were left; but you weren’t too sure about actually sitting on them. Still completely intact though, was the Archway that must’ve bene the entrance. Above it, was a bell; likely used to let the nearby colonizers know that church was starting. But on the bell was an inscription that could no longer be read. The language appeared to be Latin, but the words had been lost to time. You were raising your camera to take a picture, when a soft voice startled you
“Hi.” You turned suddenly and you were staring into crystal blue eyes. You jumped back but kept your eyes fixated on his. A man, maybe a little older than you had been standing right behind you.
“Oh! Uh…hi!” you said, blinking and taking more of him in now. Dressed in a black jacket over a fitting gray tee-shirt, dark jeans clinging to his legs, and silver rings adorned most of his fingers on his right hand. His left hand was hidden by a leather glove. His hair was pulled back in a man bun and a single ruby on a black chain hung from his left ear.
                “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I was just coming up the trail and I called out to you.” His voice was soft, with a hint of an eastern European accent, making a slight shiver go through you.
                “Sorry, I suppose I didn’t hear you.”
                “No worries, I’m James. But my friends call me Bucky” He reached out his hand for yours, taking it and telling him your own name. “I’m surprised to see someone else this far out in the woods.
“I’m here to take pictures.” You explained. “It’s a beautiful structure…what’s left of it anyways.”
“How interesting.” He said. “Are you a professional?”
“Well, sort of. I’m actually just finishing my first collection to be published. ‘New England’s Haunts and Its Future.’ I’m including the church with a piece on New England puritanism and its effects on today’s bigotries.”
He smirked. “I like it. I’ll have to make sure I order a copy of your book.” You both laughed. “You know the old England had some haunts too. All of Europe, in fact. Plenty of old spooky castles. You should definitely see them.”
“If my book goes well maybe.”
“Have you ever had your work in a gallery?” he asked.
                “Unfortunately, no. I’ve had my art displayed in some cafes here and there, but not much else.”
                “Pity, you seem passionate about your work, it must be nice.”
                “I’d call it nice, maybe good.” You beamed. “I’d actually like to get a few shots in, if you don’t mind. I can talk a little while I work though.” There was something about him. He unnerved you, if only slightly. But you also didn’t want him to leave. You wanted him to stay with you.
The two of you walked through the archway to stand on the overgrown stone floor, flowers and dandelions peeking through the cracks. As you walked up what used to be aisle and could almost make out where the other pews had been. Maybe it was the sunset, maybe It was your imagination, but along the floor, the stones seemed eerily stained red.
                Again, Bucky’s closeness startled you, but this time, you seemed frozen to the floor.
“You know, darling. There’s one thing I’d love. Could you take a picture of me under the archway? It would make for a great dating profile picture.” He winked at you. And you felt your face warm up.
“Sure, why not.” You focused your camera on him and his eyes seemed to flash red at you. You gasped before snapping the button, but only cursed and brushed it off as red eye-syndrome. You took one more picture and this time, it seemed normal. You pulled it away and waited as the picture loaded. Your book would hopefully lead to some newer equipment. Bucky stood behind you suddenly, but again you were frozen to place; only this time with his chest firmly against his back.
As the picture loaded on the screen, your stomach dropped. The picture was empty. the archway was still in there. But Bucky wasn’t.
You turned around and his smile was downright predatory. Revealing two pearly white fangs. But his eyes, they were bright crimson red.
                “That’s…. those can’t be real…your eyes, your teeth…” you said, feeling your heart drop into your stomach
                “Oh, my darling. They are ALL too real…little girls like you should know better than to go out after sunset.” You should be running, fighting back, anything. But you can’t. You’re staring into his deep red eyes and you can’t move. “No, printsessa. I can’t have you running away. Not when you smell so delightful.” His arms wrapped slowly around your waist, pulling you closer to you. “Not to mention how beautiful you are. You are exactly what I’ve been searching for.” He whispered in your ear. Before you could blink, you felt a sharp pain in your neck and the world went dark.
You awoke in a soft bed, softer than anything you’d felt before. A bed, but you’d been… Oh fuck… You shot upright quickly as you remembered what happened. What greeted you was a dimly lit room. A wall of immense windows letting the moonlight stream in while a fire roared in the fireplace. Low lamp light gave let you see to see immense bookshelves lining the rest of walls. You started to panic. That freak had knocked you out, now you were in some cabin somewhere. You were still wearing the same clothes, but you had no clue where you were.
                “My my, finally awake. I suppose I did drink a bit more than necessary. But I just couldn’t help myself. You were just absolutely delicious.” You looked and saw Bucky. He’d been sitting by the fire until he stood up and moved towards the bed. You could see he was wearing black t-shirt and sweatpants, but what you hadn’t seen before…was his metal arm. His hand had been covered by the glove, but now you could see the moonlight glinting off it. You caught yourself staring and remembered what had happened last time you’d stared at him.
                “What did you do to me you sicko?” You lowered your eyes to the floor, trying to move out of the bed without tripping. You heard him chuckle.
“What’s wrong baby doll, you don’t wanna to look at me? “
“No! I just wanna go home. Please.” You tried to be strong but you were trembling as you tried to keep your eyes low enough. You desperately searched for anything sharp or heavy, settling on the lamp and reaching to pick it up, but before you could, you found yourself pinned face down on the bed, your arms trapped behind you. You struggled against him, but he hardly moved. His voice in your ear.
                “Poor little bunny. You know what really happened. Or do you need a reminder?” You felt something scrape against your neck. Fangs.             
                “That’s…. you’re not…”
                “Oh, but I am doll. And I don’t think I’ve found anything I’ve ever wanted more in my centuries of living.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Your trembling is so adorable baby girl. It makes me want to ravage you until you cry for me.” His hand wandered down to your jeans and your breathing turned shallow. There was an ache deep between your thighs that wanted to call out for him, but you were still scared of what he’d done.
“No, I won’t have my beloved scared of my touch.” He said, gently pressing a kiss to your neck before moving to help you stand up. Your legs were much wobblier and you found yourself leaning against him. You stared at his chest and quietly spoke. “Bucky, please. Where are we?”
“We’re at my cabin. I’d like to show you around; as this is to be your home too. If you promise to behave.” Deep down, you still felt petrified. But an inner voice said that if he had already wanted you dead, you would be. Besides, you hadn’t noticed before, but something about his smell was so enticing to you. Cinnamon and smoke, with a slight…metallic underlay.
                “If…If I go with you willingly…will YOU keep it that way?” you asked, trying to sound firm. You could hear the amusement in his voice.
                “I see my little bunny can stand her ground. No, I will not control you that way like before.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head to look at him.  His hair was still pulled back into a loose bun, moonlight casting shadows on his sharp cheekbones led down into full lips. And those eyes. You would never forget the deep red color before he drank from you. Now instead they were crystal pools. As unending as the sky. Like you could stare forever. But you blinked away, acknowledging he had kept his promise. You moved away from him and instead toward the windows.
                “If you are…a vampire…why the windows? I thought you were supposed to avoid natural light.” He chuckled. And walked a normal pace now to stand next to you as you both stared out into the forest.
                “Any creature can be exposed to too much sun. We just have much a lower tolerance limit. I have heavy black out curtains for the day…but I cannot find it in myself to give up this view.” He pointed up towards the stars. You didn’t think you’d ever seen so many. But a rumble of thunder off in the distance caught your attention you saw flashes of lightning. A storm was moving in soon, and you could feel your resolve to escape crumble slightly. Where could you go in a storm?
                “How exactly…did you become…?” you asked, hesitantly, not wanting to upset him and trying to focus on anything other than his closeness. You’d always thought trying to…humanize…your enemy so to speak was supposed to help keep you safe. He smiled.
“A vampire…Well, I would imagine you know how.” He chuckled and you found yourself chucking as well. “Where Romania is now, I was a simple farmer. Goats mostly. Then one night, a creature attacked our village.” He paused. “Killed my sister. I tried to fight back, and something about that… He changed me instead of killing me. Figured it was some cruel punishment, killing everyone I knew and loved and leaving me alone.” You felt your heart tug. As if sensing your sadness, he turned and shook his head.
“Don’t worry too much about it, I got my revenge. Afterwards I stayed low, kept to myself for a few centuries. Until the world erupted into war. I refused to keep to myself. That’s how I lost my arm. When the Germans found out what I was; they tried to use my powers to make more. They took my arm to see if they could clone me. Then they gave me this one and tried to turn us into a weapon of war. Only their plans backfired. They couldn’t control them. They eventually all killed each other…at least the ones I didn’t kill first.” He was quiet for a moment and you almost started to panic. But he let out a sigh.
“After the war, I settled here. Made my home, invested some wise money, now I have a little peace.” He turned to you. You felt your heart ache for him. “But I have waited so long for something so enticing as you.” He started to move closer, but you still were nervous, taking a step back.
                “Wait uhm... I thought you wanted to show me around.” You reminded him, trying to distract him. He smiled and let out a deep sigh.
                “I suppose I did. Well, you’ve seen the bedroom and its extensive library. But there’s an even bigger one downstairs. Come.” He took your hand with his metal one and led you towards the door. You felt less scared following him now; you still could feel yourself wanting to resist and struggle. But he was holding your hand too tightly.
                As the two of you toured through the large Tudor cabin (mansion, it seemed), you took note of the art on the walls. Beautiful photographs of places around the world; paintings you wanted to stare at for hours; Bucky having to pull you away from a particularly intriguing work from the Harlem Renaissance.  The two of you talked. Bucky had been to many of the places you hoped to go. And some of the ones you’d already been to. It was nice to find someone like yourself, a wanderer.
                “I suppose after my parents died; I just felt a little lost.” You told him “I didn’t have a big family, no siblings, so I just decided to be free. It’d at least be nice to have a home base someday though.” You mused.
                “I can understand. I’ve actually lived on this land for some years, even before what happened to me. It’s actually owned by an Indigenous tribe. I bought it outright around the 1800s when the government tried to push them out, then gave it back to them. I only asked they let me build a small cabin on the outer edges.” Your jaw dropped. “But…do they know…?” You asked, still having trouble believing it for yourself.  He paused and smiled.
                “In my lengthy time, you meet many people who believe many different things. I’ve learned to appreciate many human cultures, and to always show respect where it is deserved. And not to tolerate those who would degrade it.” He said, then kept leading you on, with you following a little bit closer. You two walked into a room you definitely didn’t expect to find. A Kitchen.
                “It was easier to build than to ever explain why there wasn’t one. Plus, I have a supplier who steals blood from some hoity toity government hospital and I need somewhere to keep it cold. You’d be surprised at the amount of blood they keep on reserve for those rich old bastards.” He rolled his eyes and you managed a genuine laugh. “I don’t know I would.” He smiled at you before continuing out of the room, with you following almost eagerly behind. The tour led down one last hallway to a set of double doors.
                “Now my favorite room. My private study.” He opened the doors. A library that could’ve easily fit 10 of your vans with celling high bookshelves stretched before your eyes. A cozy looking couch sat across from either one of the 2 fire places on opposite walls, and a huge bay window revealed the storm had truly arrived. Gone was the moon, here were flashes of lightening and roars of thunder. In front of the windows sat a big mahogany desk. You strode over to the desk, to see out the window and there on his desk was a stack of all of your books. As you looked back towards him you could see on the walls, one of your photographs.
                It was one you’d camped out and waited all night for in the woods. But you’d caught them, a pack of wolves running through the woods under a moonlit sky.
                “I saw it in a little café in Boston and had to have it. I’ve been following you for quite some time. Literally.” He chuckled. “I became enraptured with you. Your pictures moved me. How you always seemed to capture both the joyful and the macabre sides of humanity. That’s why I had to get your book published. So, I bought the publishing company to make it happen” You turned to him in disbelief.
                “Bucky, you…you didn’t…you couldn’t have…”
                “Oh, but yes I did, doll. It’s what you’ve wanted, what you’ve desired.” His voice dropped. He licked his lips and moved closer to you. “And now, my little bunny rabbit. It’s time to take what I have desired for so long.” He grabbed your hand and tugged you back towards the desk, using his strength to lift you up and pin you down on your back, minding your head.
 His confession, his obsession, even with his charming personality, you felt fear flaring up inside you anyways.  “Wait please…” you pleaded, pressing your hand against his chest.
                “No more waiting printsessa. It’s time. I need to satisfy my thirst. And my lust. And I cannot resist the sound of your pulse screaming out for me.” He paused, pressing his hips more against yours. You wanted to resist, wanted to push harder against him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Instead, you wanted to bring him closer.
                “No…you gave your word…” you begged, desperately.
                “I did. And I’ve kept that word. I did nothing to control you. I just failed to mention that my natural state is to lure you in. Until you’re caught like a fly in my web and you don’t even realize it.” He purred, trailing kisses down your cheek. “You’re in my home, surrounded by me, breathing me in until slowly and slowly your defenses have lowered, until you don’t even have the strength to push me away.”
                 He was right. You had wanted to resist him but you’d felt it crumbling more and more. Like the walls of that stone church. You were gripping his shirt not to push him away, but wanting to pull him close. Handsome, intelligent, alluring. Your thighs clenched with want.
                “When I first drank your blood, there was a taste of fear that was indescribable. But now I know, lust will make it even sweeter.” He grabbed your hips and lifted you onto the desk. “So beautiful, but so…fragile.” His fleshed hand wrapped around your throat; you could feel the bitemarks as his thumb ran over them. “You know all I’d have to do is squeeze, right? And I’d crush this fragile beautiful throat. You’re so delicate.” His voice was low. You were still afraid, but that fear was streaked with desire. You wanted to give yourself to him, no matter what the cost.
                “Please…Bucky…” you whimpered, not even sure what you were asking for.
                “Please what, baby? Tell me. Tell me you want me to ravage you like the beast that I am. I can smell your pussy; you must be absolutely dripping by now.” You were drowning. And he was oxygen.
                “Yes.” You barely breathed the word out before his lips were on yours. He slowly pushed you to lay down on the desk. You could hear rumbling in your ears. You couldn’t tell if it was the storm, or your heartbeat. But judging by how Bucky was staring down at you, you assumed the latter.
“You’re so excited aren’t you, doll? You want me to fuck you, make you my slut. And I will, you are never leaving me.” He pulling away, making you whine in desperation, but his only response was to growl as he ripped your jeans down, your shoes falling away and leaving only your panties covering your pussy. He knelt between them, putting your legs over his shoulder, and inhaled deeply.
                “Fuck.” He groaned. “You are soaking wet. How long have you been hiding this, huh? Since I first drank your blood, or from when I told you that I am absolutely obsessed with you? What a shameless slut.” His words, that voice, you would listen to him forever if he wanted, anything to get him to touch you. His fingers moved slowly, stroking you over your panties.
                “I’ve dreamed about eating this pussy for so long, and now I’m going to savor every moment.” You tried to buck your hips as he nipped at your thigh, but his silver arm held you firm. In the bright light of the fire, you could see how each of the platelets moved as he gripped you tighter. You looked back down at him between your legs and knew he’d seen you staring.   
                “Someday I’ll show you everything it can do baby. But for now...” He pulled your panties aside and started with soft licks to your clit while two fingers gently worked inside you. His touch was so gentile compared to the monster you’d feared him as. Your soft moan turned into a shriek as the edge of his fang nipped you.
                “I told you, love. Desire will make the blood so much sweeter. I know you want me. Want to be my little snack for all eternity.” His fingers sped up, rubbing that special spot inside you that make you cry out with reckless abandon.
                “Bucky…Bucky…don’t stop…oooh…” you moaned. Your hands clasping for structure and finding none. His tongue resumed its ministrations on your clit, never even giving his words a chance to wash over you as your knees began to shake. You could feel the erratic patterns his tongue was laving on your clit, driving your climax further to its breaking point.
                “Cum for me, darling. Give yourself to me.” His words were your undoing as you screamed his name. Cumming harder than you could have ever imagined possible. And true to his word, his tongue lapped up every drop it could, sucking his fingers clean. You lay against the cool desk, your body burning with desire and you locked eyes with him, not caring to look away. He smiled, showing off his fangs. “Oh, baby girl, between your blood and your pussy, I’ll never go hungry again.”
                Standing up and leaning over to kiss you, you found yourself tugging at his shirt, trying to get his skin on yours again.
                “Bucky please…need you…” you begged.
                “How can I deny such a sweet bunny like you?” He rid himself of his shirt and sweatpants as you followed suit, dropping your panties to the floor. Your eyes widened at the size of his cock. You’d had your fun with toys but he was something else.  You could see pre-cum dribbling down the side and you wanted to close your legs, but Bucky stood between them
                “Don’t look so afraid, doll. I know a good slut like you can take my cock in that pretty pussy.” He rubbed the head of his cock against your slit and you tried to push your hips up. He pinched your thigh, making you squeak. With his spare hand, he gathered your hands in his strong metal one, pinning them above you to the surface of the desk. His cock teased your entrance and you both moaned.
                “You’re mine now, understand. Heart, body, mind.” He kissed from your temple to your ear. “I own you down to your very soul. Forever.” You nodded. He was a vampire. He was obsessed with you. He’d likely hunted you down for weeks. But none of that mattered now. You needed him.
                “Yes, Bucky. I’m yours. You’re mine.” Bucky smiled and pushed his cock into you, slowly; letting you feel the stretch of him filling you up.
                “Yes, darling. I’m yours. Yours to keep satisfied. Yours to use you as a little fuck toy when I need it.” His pace became rougher, fucking you; squeezing your wrists tighter until you yelped. Then he slowed his hips, letting you now revel in the pleasure you felt. He started rubbing at your still sensitive clit, making you clench around him.  He growled deeply and you gasped as his eyes flashed crimson.
                “Oh, baby doll, don’t play with fire if you don’t want to end up burnt.” He said, his voice lower and huskier. You knew he was getting closer to his own release when his pace picked up again. Not as punishing as before, but you felt his lust, his carnality in every thrust. And it only drove you crazier.
                “When you cum, I’m going to drink from you again and you will be bound to me, my mate, my slut, little morsel.
                “Yes…Bucky yes…please…” closer and closer you edged until he let out a low growl.
                “If you don’t cum right now, I have no problem chaining you in my basement and edging you until the next full moon. Now. Cum.” The idea alone sent you over the edge, screaming out as he bit down fiercely on your neck, drinking from you again. He kept fucking you through his own orgasm, but did not drink as much as he did last time. Only just enough to make you light headed. When he finished, you two lay there a few moments, you breathing heavily as Bucky seemed to still above you. As you floated back down, your body seemed to go even more limp.
                “Such a good girl.” Bucky released your wrists, but you didn’t have the strength to move your arms. Instead, he cupped your chin in his hand and kissed you with your blood streaked across his lips. He kissed passionately and deeply, until your toes curled and you knew he meant what he said. 
                Not bothering to remove himself, Bucky helped you wrapped your arms around him and he carried you over to one of the enormous couches by the fire. Grabbing a blanket off the back and swaddling you both. “You’ll have to sleep for a little while now. But when you wake up, you’ll live forever.” His words seeped into your brain, but there was nothing you could do now. You heard him speak again.
“You wanna know the real story behind those people?” Bucky asked and you made a noise of half-committal. “Well, those colonizers weren’t hard to pick off.” In that moment, you were reminded that though he seemed to have a soft spot for you, there were also very, very dark spots. You shuddered, but it was quickly washed away by the feeling of his metal arm, holding you tighter.
“Don’t worry darling,” he purred. “Think of all the beautiful photos you can take in the moonlight.
182 notes · View notes
lutiaslayton · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Professor Layton and the Illusory Forest
PART 01
〚FIRST〛〚PREV〛〚NEXT〛
Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novel Professor Layton and the Illusory Forest. The original novel was written by Kei Yanagihara under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.
This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.
Tumblr media
Somewhere in this world lies the Book of Fate.
This book knows the destiny of all humans.
Whoever has it in hand will rule the world… Past, and future.
Surpassing time and space, one could control everything.
And yet, if someone acquires it… The world will slowly fall to ruin.
The heavens will judge those who would attempt to lay their hands on it despite these warnings.
Tumblr media
Chapter 1: A Wedding Under Attack
“The ‘Book of Fate’… Hmm.”
The glowing light of a fireplace illuminates the profile of a man engulfed in darkness.
This man is wearing a mask. The cloak on his shoulders is rather gaudy, and whenever the flames flicker, they make him look like some sort of clown. Despite this, his attire looks strangely fitting, when placed within the setting of an old English study.
His old butler humbly clears his throat, urging him to continue with an encouraging look.
The masked man speaks quietly. “At the west end of England lies Neverlace, a land inhabited by curious forest people.”
“Neverlace, you say?” the butler repeats in a whisper.
The man nods. “Legend has it that there is a forest haunted by strange phenomena within Neverlace, and that those who step foot in it will never come back. As if they were possessed by it.”
The butler bows his head lightly. “The people of England have all been familiar with forests from an early age, and have known to both admire and fear them. This is the kind of story that everyone loves to hear.”
From behind his mask, the man gives a mischievous wink.
“Oh, but there is more to it. Hidden in that forest is the Book of Fate… A book which knows the fate of all of humanity.”
The butler shakes his head sadly.
“I do believe that this haunted forest really exists. But a book that knows the future, now…? You should not be surprised that I find this tale quite dubious.”
The masked man says: “It may be hard to believe, indeed. But if it were true, what would you do? If such a book really existed, anyone could control the fate of humanity as a whole.”
The butler straightens his back and retorts with dignity:
“With all due respect, I believe that such a thing should only be used in the name of the divine, master.”
The masked man, named Descole, replies with a chuckle:
“This is precisely why I must have this book. No matter what it takes.”
Tumblr media
 ⇚       ⇛
135 notes · View notes
moonmausoleum · 1 year
Text
Ghost of Nan Tuck Haunting the English Countryside
The Ghost of Nan Tuck is the haunted legend about an accused witch from England still haunting the woods; she, according to legend, was killed by the villagers chasing her down.
The Ghost of Nan Tuck is the haunted legend about an accused witch from England still haunting the woods; she, according to legend, was killed by the villagers chasing her down. Now she is haunting the place she was killed on. The parish of Buxted in southeast England looks quaint and peaceful enough today if you don’t know its bloody history. The rural parish is green with farmland and…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
4 notes · View notes
lionheartapothecaryx · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I believe in incorporating the plants that live and grow around you into your spiritual practice and common Lilac is prevalent in my neighborhood. During spring it’s incredibly fragrant and I love to harvest the wood and blossoms to make spiritual oils and more. I believe in it comes in a variety of different colors, but I’ll be focusing on its purple and white aspects.
Common Lilac
Gender: Feminine & Masculine
Planet: Venus & Mars
Element: Water & Air
Zodiac: Gemini
Metaphysical powers: Spring, renewal, growth, exorcism, banishing, protection, playfulness, good fortune & misfortune, flirtation, romance, attraction, cognition, memory, wisdom, divination, illusions, pleasure
Lilac wood is commonly used to enhance memory, concentration and more due to its air like properties. This wood is excellent for wands and is also said to be a great offering to forest spirits.
Allegedly, according to several sources the sprigs are used in Russia to imbue children with luck and wisdom. In the UK, in a small localized part of England it was believed to be bad luck to bring white lilacs into the house, but finding one with five petals was considered lucky. The purple and red varieties were less feared but were excluded from house decor as bringers of misfortune.
Since the flowers only bloom for a short period, just a couple of weeks depending on where you live, you only get a brief period of time to harvest, the fragrant blossoms. They typically appear between Beltane & Litha, but often can start budding in late spring in April. This is why they are also associated with spring, renewal, growth and perseverance since they also have the ability to push and penetrate through harsh an heavy winter energies. They’re great for initiating and facilitating energetic breakthroughs and new growth.
In these fairly modern times, they are used for banishing negative energy, ghosts, ghouls and other assorted haunts, specifically the purple variety. They are also considered a romantic sort of flower, that inspires flirtation, playfulness, summer flings/love and short attractions. It may not bring you a marriage proposal but it does bring a fun, playful energy that’s good to incorporate in glamours and love work & it can even defend you from the evil eye.
Could you see yourself incorporating Lilacs into your spiritual practice ?
40 notes · View notes
Text
walter deville teaser
Tumblr media
In the magnificent ballroom of a majestic Tudor manor, a spellbinding scene unfolds. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a mysterious woman glided across the polished floor, her movements as graceful as a swan. The haunting melody that filled the air seemed to possess her, guiding her every step between each guest. In the depths of the shadows, a figure stood, his presence both alluring and enigmatic. His face remained concealed, adding an air of intrigue to his already captivating aura. Their eyes locked, two souls drawn together by an invisible force, and the world around them faded into insignificance.
As the music swelled, reaching its crescendo, the stranger took a bold step forward. His voice, filled with a whisper of longing, broke the silence, confessing a love that seems to transcend time itself. “you have no idea how much I love you, Miss Stoker.” The woman's heart raced, her breath catching in her throat, as she was swept away by the intensity of his words.
In the moment frozen in time, their lips finally met in a passionate kiss. It was a collision of desire and longing, a union of souls that defied explanation. But as their embrace deepened, a peculiar taste lingered on the woman's tongue, a metallic tang that sent a shiver down her spine. Suddenly, a surge of curiosity mixed with a hint of fear flooded her heart. The taste of blood upon his lips was unmistakable, a jarring contrast to the tender moment they shared. Questions swirled in her mind, like whispers in the wind. Who was this faceless man? “(Y/N)?” he whispered. “(Y/N)?”
With a sudden jolt, the woman catapulted out of her seat, causing Evie to quickly reach for her pills. "We've landed," Evie whispered, handing her boss a pill with a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry about it," she added, noticing the beads of sweat on her forehead. "Oliver's waiting for us, let's go!" with a nod of her head (Y/N) slowly stood from her seat.
“So, who lives here again?” Evie asked as (Y/N) sat in the car, cruising along the secluded roads on the outskirts of Whitby, she couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. The ever-changing weather, a characteristic she had missed dearly, played its whimsical game once again. One moment, the sky was a brilliant canvas of blue, devoid of any clouds, and the next, it transformed into a murky grey, with gusts of wind that seemed to dance through the air. “The De Ville family.” As they continued their journey, (Y/N)'s gaze was drawn to the enchanting woodland that enveloped their family estate. It was as if nature had painted a masterpiece, with emerald green shades blending seamlessly into fern green's vibrant hues. The lushness of the trees and foliage created a mesmerizing tapestry, inviting her to explore its hidden secrets. “But our family will be staying the weekend for the festivities.”
“Holy shit. are they royalty or something?” as the manor came into view (Y/N) felt a sense of familiarity. Nestled amidst a sprawling landscape, stood an opulent white brick mansion exuding an aura of wealth and influence. Its majesty matched only by the pristine gardens that surrounded it, meticulously manicured to perfection. Every corner of the magnificent abode reflected the abundance of riches it houses, while the walls remained untouched by even the tiniest speck of dirt. “No, it's just old money. England's full of it.” the artist knew something felt strange about the manor. It felt like home to her, and she couldn’t tell if she liked it or not.
“Welcome to New Carfax Abbey. Let me find our host.” As Oliver wandered off to find the owner (Y/N) also started to wander around the outside of the beautiful building. As she approached the entrance, the pillar carvings beckoned to her with an irresistible allure. Intricate and mesmerizing, they depicted a whimsical dance of enchanting forest creatures, each one brought to life in the bleached stone. These were no ordinary animals; they were the very same majestic beings she had encountered in her adventures. The sight filled her with an overwhelming sense of wonder and curiosity, igniting a fire within her. She yearned for the owner's permission to document every intricate detail, to capture the essence of this extraordinary building. Her excitement surged through her veins, as her mind raced with a flood of ideas, eager to be transformed into words on paper.
“I hope you don’t mind I brought a friend with me, Lord Deville,” Evie spoke pointing towards (Y/N) as she traced the pillar with her manicured nails. “(Y/N).” She called out but the girl seemed to ignore her. evie and the lord watched her closely, the rich gentleman listened to her breathing slow down as if slipping into a trance. “(Y/N)!” Evie called once again but still no reply. As the man gracefully approached the mesmerized woman, his presence seemed to cast a spell of intrigue. With a gentle touch, his large hand found its place on her shoulder, as if to guide her deeper into the enchanting world of his home. And there she stood, lost in a trance, her gaze fixated on the captivating artwork that adorned the brick. “miss are you alright.” His voice as smooth as milk snapped her from her brain her twinkling eyes locking with his stormy ones. The two matched their gaze smiling lightly at the sense of familiarity of each other.
“I'm sorry were you both calling me?” she stuttered looking towards Evie was an embarrassed look. “don’t worry (Y/N) your probably jet lagged.” She laughed picking up the poor girl's bag from the ground. “Walter, this is (Y/N). the artist I was telling you about.” The man now known as Walter stared back at (Y/N) his storm eyes now swapped with a flash of light of excitement. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stoker. I am a very big fan of your work. obviously.” The sun-kissed hue of his skin suddenly blushed with a fiery red, as if caught off guard by his own rambling. It was almost endearing to witness him in such a vulnerable state as if his emotions were laid bare for all to see. But there was no denying the transformative power of the new face that had entered his life, for it had swiftly altered his entire demeanour. “I'm glad you enjoyed them Mr Deville and thank you for the generous donation to the gallery I can assure you there are big plans for it.” his smile couldn’t get any bigger, but it did. The sound of her voice lulled his heart into a stuttering beat as if it had been out of service for many moons.
“come let me show you around the manor. I hope you like how I've displayed your art.” His cotton-covered arm poked out to her as an invitation to his home. She slowly slipped her arm into his feeling a familiar spark ignite in their touch. His smell was so calming and alluring sending her into a high, her doing the same to him. Walter held her small hand in a comfortable tightness not wanting her to slip from him again.
143 notes · View notes
writemekpop · 2 years
Text
Possession | Lee Taeyong
Summary: You fall in love with a strange boy, but never suspect he is a vampire… until it’s too late. 
Genre: Dark academia, suggestive
Word Count: 1.2k
Tumblr media
You had heard the phrase to die for, but never experienced it.
Until you met Taeyong. 
That still October night, you had to ask yourself the question: was his love to die for? 
---
When you got a scholarship to start in New England’s most elite college in the fall, you were thrilled. 
During your first college dinner, four of the strangest people you had ever seen stalked in.
They seemed to walk straight out of another era. They wore frilly high-necked blouses and trench coats. And they were beautiful. Their eyes were a perfect black, like the inside of a heart. 
You couldn’t take your eyes off one of them: a boy. He twitched in his chair, the movement making his black curls dance ever so slightly.   
“Who are they?” you whispered to the girl beside you. 
She rolled her eyes. “They don’t mix with us mortals… they’re General Studies majors.” 
“They still offer that?”  
“If you’re a Lee. They’re some mega-rich family. Half the libraries are theirs – or so they say.” 
“H-how do you choose General Studies?” you asked.
“Blood sacrifice.” She laughed. 
Suddenly, the dark-haired boy turned and stared directly at you. You face flashed with heat. His eyes weren’t black – no, they were emerald, violet, midnight blue. Your head clouded with a thousand dizzying fantasies. You looked down at your plate.  
“Huh,” the girl said. 
“What?” 
“The guy you were staring at – Taeyong…” 
“What about him?” 
“He never notices anyone.” 
--- Taeyong occupied your every thought.  
He haunted your dreams, always walking away from you. Just when he’d turn around to flash a dazzling smirk at you… he would disappear. You would wake up, sweaty despite the chilly fall weather, grief gnawing at your chest. 
One night, you woke from a dream of Taeyong… to see his burning violet-green eyes just inches from your face. His face was contorted with fury, but that only made it more earth-shatteringly beautiful. His icy fingers were clutching your neck, squeezing. 
You blinked, and he disappeared.  
One night, after dinner - Taeyong himself was standing at the end of your table. 
His shirt was slightly unbuttoned. You found your lost in the dark planes of his chest. 
“Y/n, right?” he said. His voice was deeper than you’d expected. How did he know your name? 
You nodded slightly.
And then he did something you’d never seen him do before. He smiled. His face broke into a stupefying, angelic beauty. “I heard you like the forest. I can show you a great spot for hiking.” 
You, him, alone? What could he possibly see in you?
But when he took your hand in his, and all your questions evaporated. 
Taeyong led you to the edge of campus, then deep into the woods. 
As you walked, two things changed. Two little things. Two things that, if you’d noticed them, might have saved your life. 
First, the restless look in Taeyong’s eyes was back. 
Second, that there was something unusual in the way he spoke. You basked in the glory of his voice, not really hearing individual words as he murmured, again and again:
“This downhill path is easy, but there’s no turning back.”
Or at times:
“Y/n. Oh, Y/n, sweet Y/n. Did anyone ever tell you that you look just like a young princess out of a Disney movie?” 
Slowly, suspicion did rise out of your gut.  Taeyong’s ice-cold grip on your wrist was just a little too tight.  
Tears sprung to your eyes. “You’re hurting me!” you cried. 
He turned to stare at you, eyes wide. He let go of your arm. 
Seeing the tears in your eyes, something seemed to change in his expression – like it was the first time he’d noticed you were there. 
Taeyong backed against a tree, clutching it as if to restrain himself. Light shudders ran through his body. 
“Go… away,” he ordered, his voice trembling. “Now.” 
Your heart swelled at the sight of him. He wasn’t trying to hurt you. He was in pain. 
“Why?” 
“Because – I’m going to hurt you – the way I hurt all the others.” 
You gasped. He took in a shaky breath, putting on a wavering smile that was as gorgeous as it was painful. “I’m afraid I - brought you here to kill you.” 
He laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “Now don’t judge me too harshly! I never was hard or self-denying enough. When people are soft – soft people can’t help but make a few mistakes, listen to the devil on their shoulder…” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“I’ve been watching you every night this week – ha! – looking for moments to snare you in.”  
Taeyong voice wavered, and you sensed the true pain behind the bravado. “Oh, but what was I meant to do? You’re the one following a strange fellow into the woods at night. Don’t humans have any instincts at all?”
Humans. Your gut instinct had been right. “So, you’re not. Human.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.
“Oh dear.” he murmured. “Blood sacrifice? Yes, that’s about right. There have been many… blood sacrifices.” The word vampire appeared, in swirly silver writing, the title scene of some awful 90’s movie. 
And yet… it was the only explanation. 
“But you didn’t hurt me,” you urged.
He continued his confession, and the phrase, if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you, sounded in your mind. You ignored it. 
He laughed a strange, choked laugh. “You are so pretty when you sleep, do you know that? Like a… a little paper doll. I could just take you in my hand, and…”  
You knew that should scare you. You knew that would scare most humans. 
Your breath stuttered. “You were there… as I slept?” So that explained the dream. Or… not-dream. Your heart kicked into overdrive, but it wasn’t due to fear. It was due to the fact that he was in your bedroom each of these nights, inhaling your scent, close enough to touch… 
He clutched his arms around his body, like he was restraining himself - or maybe just trying to keep all the pieces together. “Go, now, love. I can save you – I think. But you must go.” 
But you did not go. Instead, you stepped forwards, slowly, never leaving his majestic eyes. I stroked one steady hand over his cheek, his lips. His skin was cool and stunningly smooth. His eyes fluttered shut under your touch. 
And then you couldn’t resist, and you brought your lips to his. 
You knew you were bringing yourself face to face with death. 
And yet you didn’t care. 
Because you’d never felt so alive. 
MAIN MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
361 notes · View notes
intertexts · 3 months
Note
Oh wait
You like fucked up towns?
Do you perhaps have any thoughts on towns and how to make them more fucked up? :]
(^^ words of something trying to make a small town map that’s fucked up)
OH. HUH. FUN QUESTION. i feel like. i am a terrible person to ask for thoughts on things like this because the extent of my writing is like, gay ass character studies & shit. but. i do have a ton of thoughts on fucked up towns.
the most important thing, i personally think, is having your town be grounded in a real regional place and it has to be a place you love. it's so difficult to make that shit up from scratch and still carry a real weight. and the horror or strangeness or sadness of the town should come from the reality of it.
picking a few of the easiest examples: welcome to night vale, night in the woods, h.p. lovecraft's miskatonic county. the fucked-up-ness of all of them springs from the nature of the place itself. they're not interchangeable, and they all have different emotions linked with them.
night vale is, very loosely, a satire of unbothered american suburbia in the face of-- well. all the horrific shit that post-9/11 unbothered americana ignores! and the strangeness and beauty of the setting comes from the easy and pleasant and mundane way that its citizens interact with the horror. it's day-to-day, it's chill, it's normal. yeah the faceless old lady who lives in your home is running for mayor. yeah the angels who work the community garden and live with josie finally won the case for their existence we can acknowledge them now cool. (& also of course night vale is a southwestern desert town & it doesn't let u forget that!! it's hot and sunny in the day and cold at night and there's sand dunes out by the edge of town and beaches with no lakes and it is very grounded in its setting!!)
possum falls from nitw, on the other hand, is a love letter to to those old, death spiraling pennsylvania rust belt mining towns. it isn't as heavily supernatural of a setting (outside of the old god in the mines the elders are sacrificing the most vulnerable members of the community to for nothing but the continued hollow, wheezing survival of something that should be allowed to die) but it's very grounded in the reality of those places-- the omnipresent forest, the dinky grocery store, your old high school classmate sitting out on her apartment steps at sunset, the feeling of being out in the autumn cold at dusk and the empty subway station and the weathered, half-hearted historical remnants of local pride and the ghost of the closed mine over it all. the type of dead-end, black hole, potholed main street town that you know you're gonna live and die in because it's what your parents did and what their parents did and god knows how you'd even make it out.
lovecraft-- i mean, mandatory disclaimer on his insane racism of course. up to u if u wanna read of his work, a lot of his short stories r very short etc. but crucially, for what we're talking about here, lovecraft was fucking in love with new england in the way that people who r born and raised in new england r insane about it. his lovecraft country/miskatonic county/arkham county is set in massachusetts, and he's very clear about why everything's set in mass: bleak, lonely, ancient, haunted by the sea and the lingering ghosts of twisted puritan ideology. his fucked up towns are the dark hidden backwoods, the port towns, the wretched things brought by settlers who have been a parasite upon the woods and the rocks and the fields for hundreds of years, etc, the feeling that something has gone wrong and perverted here and it's far too late to fix it.
so like, tl;dr-- don't try and make somewherw generically weird. figure out what place makes YOU go crazy go stupid. pinpoint Why it specifically makes u go crazy go stupid, as opposed to everywhere else. crank that shit up to 100!!!!
11 notes · View notes
pers-books · 1 month
Text
Two Fifteenth Doctor audio adventures coming soon
Two brand new adventures are coming for the Fifteenth Doctor and Ruby Sunday... this time on audio! 
Heading to County Durham, England, and North West America, these two new stories take the Fifteenth Doctor and Ruby Sunday even further. 
Tumblr media
Doctor Who: On Ghost Beach
by Niel Bushnell
A haunting tale of mystery and adventure for the Fifteenth Doctor and Ruby Sunday!
The TARDIS arrives in County Durham, England, in 1958. Seaham Chemical Beach was once a scene of heavy industry, long since abandoned, but now local residents are having nightmares and seeing apparitions.
It isn’t long before the Doctor and Ruby are affected by the beach’s peculiar atmosphere. As they begin to forget exactly who they are, Ruby hears a distant voice calling her on.
Whose memories are filling the travellers’ heads, and what is the significance of Ghost Beach, in the Sea of Despair, on the planet Farfrom? Even more importantly – who is Reg?
Susan Twist, who played the recurring woman in the BBC TV series, reads this atmospheric original chiller by Niel Bushnell.
Tumblr media
Doctor Who: Sting of the Sasquatch
by Darren Jones
A full-throttle adventure in America for the Fifteenth Doctor and Ruby Sunday
In a National Park in North-West America, the Doctor and Ruby are pursued by large, ape-like creatures who seem to literally disappear into the trees. When Ruby falls ill after apparently being stung, the Doctor believes the infection is extra-terrestrial in origin.
They meet Dixie and Greg, two Bigfoot hunters determined to track down the mythical Sasquatch. Standing in their way is Ranger Peone, who’s adamant that the forest is too dangerous to explore. Dozens of people have vanished, or reappeared with no memory, in the last month alone.
Then the ape creatures kidnap Ruby, and the Doctor is determined to both save her life and solve the mystery of the Sasquatch.
Genesis Lynea, who played Harriet Arbinger in the BBC TV series, reads this tense and dramatic original story by Darren Jones.
Pre-order Doctor Who: Sting of the Sasquatch here
12 notes · View notes