#miss marsh is so fun to draw...

[cyberdrive2htmlove]

i got my #lobotomy done at the Thunders Tower

[mangapeach]

testing csp on my new (old) tablet

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 10

And it's official, my lovelies. This will be 14 chapters. I just have to write the wrap up and it's done.

I had so much fun writing this story, I'm going to miss it.

In this we have an Eddie revelation and the redcap.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9

~

Eddie ran straight for the marsh knowing that those that were following him wouldn’t dare enter it. And sure enough once he exited the forest and hit the shrubs and bushes the running skidded to a stop, but he kept running.

He could see the remnants of an old castle that had been built on the marshlands but only for it to crumble into the soggy marshlands.

He ducked behind a large outcropping and tried to catch his breath. He gently pulled out Gawain and set him down on the stone in front of him.

“Thanks, buddy,” he cooed. “As soon as I get home I am going to be giving you the biggest juiciest steak I can get my hands on.”

Gawain chittered happily.

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “I could have sworn that I understood that just now.”

Gawain tilted his head and chittered the exact same phrase.

“Oh holy shit!” he whispered harshly. “I can understand you!”

He jumped up and down in small movements as he didn’t want to draw his pursuers to his position. Then he stopped for a moment.

“Oh!”

Gawain confirmed his suspicion with a soft sound.

“I’m a witch!” he hissed. “Holy shit! How did I not know I was witch!”

Gawain chittered again and ran up Eddie’s arm to nuzzle his cheek with his own.

Eddie looked over his shoulder at the townspeople chasing him and then back at the ferret. “Well, fuck. The town is blocking out all magic isn’t it? No wonder Steve has such a hard time with his. It’s not the centennial sorcerers or whatever. Or at least not just that. Steve’s magic was being blocked by whatever was preventing you from being able to talk to me.”

Gawain cocked his head to side as he considered it and then nodded.

“How long do you think they’ll search for us?”

The ferret made a sound that Eddie would swear later was a giggle.

He frowned down at his familiar. “What do you mean they can’t see me? I’m not that well hidden, and I haven’t exactly been quiet.”

“I don’t underst–” he growled and then he really looked around him and realized that there was a faint glow around them.

It was well, he wasn’t sure how a glow could be black, but that’s what it looked like. It completely covered Gawain and him. He slowly stood up and the bubble of black light expanded to include his full height. He turned to where the mob was searching for him but they stared right through him.

Eddie backed up nice and easy keeping his eyes on the men searching for him. Once he felt he was far enough from them, he turned around and booked it, diving into the marsh, skipping on the solid parts.

He wasn’t really looking where he was going, just trusting in Gawain to not steer him wrong. So it was no surprise when he crashed into something. He went tumbling and when he opened his eyes he realized it was a someone, not a thing.

“Will?” he asked, unsure if he had hit his head or not.

“Holy shit,” Will muttered, “Eddie?”

“Yes, right,” Eddie said, struggling to get to his feet. “Um...you wouldn’t happen to know a place where I could catch my breath, would you?”

Will blinked at him for a moment. “I have a really scary monster trying to wear me down so he can kill and eat me easier, don’t you think I’d be there already if I knew of such a place?”

“Ah.”

Eddie sat up and sat cross-legged. He rub his chin for a moment as he thought about their conundrum.

“Um...” Will said looking behind him. “I don’t mean to rush you, but I’d rather not get eaten.”

“Hey, Gawain,” Eddie said turning to the ferret, “does my ‘hide me’ trick cover Will and does it work against beasties?”

Will snorted. “Like he’d be abl–” he was interrupted by an angry chitter from ferret.

“Hey, now,” Eddie said sternly. “He doesn’t know I’m a witch and you’re my familiar, especially since I didn’t know until today either.”

The reply was less angry and more...Will wasn’t quite sure how to describe it other than smug.

“So it will hide him from the Redcap,” Eddie said solemnly, “that’s good. Is there a place nearby we can rest?”

The ferret nodded and Eddie stood up. That was when Will noticed the bubble of magic.

“So you’re a witch?” Will asked as he fell in step beside him as they walked the direction Gawain indicated with his nose.

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a grimace. “I kinda owe Steve a big apology. All these years telling people I wasn’t a witch when I was one all along.”

Will shook his head. “There is something wrong with Hawkins. Jonathan tried to warn me, but I didn’t believe him until that bloody Redcap captured me.”

“Steve’s got a search party looking out for you,” Eddie said, picking at the skin on his palms. “So if he finds you, he’ll find me too.”

“But won’t the glamour stop Steve from finding us, too?”

Eddie stopped in his tracks. “Well, shit.”

~

Steve was confused.

Yes, granted that had been his default state since he moved into this town, but that wasn’t his fault as he was learning today.

There was strong dark magics preventing the townspeople from interacting with magic they way they were supposed to.

But his current confusion was that Will’s tracks suddenly stopped and were covered by...

“Are you sure it’s another witch, Argyle?” he asked for the fifth time since Argyle informed him the scent had vanished too.

“Wait a moment, Steve,” Wayne said interjecting gently. “What if the witch is Ed?”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Oh.”

Callahan and Billy shared a glance.

“But I thought Eddie wasn’t a witch?” Billy asked. “Like that is a pretty well-known thing in town. Eddie hates being called a witch just because he likes to wear black.”

“His mother was a witch,” Wayne explained. “And living so close to Steve, the magic would have rubbed off on him.”

“But that would mean he would have had his magic blocked by whatever this thing is over the town,” Hopper suggested, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Oh, no.” Steve anxiety spiked even further. “That means we have an untrained witch glamouring himself and another for the first time and no idea he’s burning his magic reserves like wild fire through a land in drought.”

Argyle let out a whine.

“Is that bad?” Callahan asked. “Because that sounds bad.”

“If his magic runs out before we find them,” Steve said chewing on his bottom lip, hands on his hips, “whatever he’s doing to hide them is going to explode like a signal flare and then it’ll be race to get to them and if the Redcap wins, they both die.”

“Okay,” Billy said nodding, eyes wide, “so not just bad but catastrophic, then.”

“Very.”

Billy looked over Steve’s shoulder. “What’s that?”

Steve turned to where Billy was pointing and gasped. “Oh. My. Forest God.”

Everyone else turned to see a majestic white stag, far larger than even a ten-point buck could even dream of being, his eyes a piercing blue, his antlers draped in flimsy looking material with golden bells hanging from both.

“I didn’t think he existed,” Argyle admitted, awe dripping from his voice. “I thought they had long since vanished from the world.”

“I knew there was a older presence then the redcap, then from even Elinor’s parents. But I never thought I would meet it–I mean him.”

“I think he wants us to follow him,” Billy whispered.

The bells twinkled in a wind they did not feel.

Steve took one step forward. And then another. The Stag stared at him until Steve was close enough to reach out and touch him, then he bounded away.

Steve broke out into a run and he could feel the others make the decision to do the same.

They ran without faltering as the Stag gave chase. Each time Steve was sure that they had lost the beast, he would see it glowing in the distance, its light brighter than a full moon as it led them to their loved ones.

Finally it stopped atop a fallen outcropping and then bowed low.

Steve skidded to a stop and bow just as low, when he righted himself, the Forest God was gone.

“If you lot hadn’t been here with me,” Wayne said, panting for breath, “I don’t think anyone would have believed what I saw today.”

Everyone agreed.

“Will!” Hopper cried. “Will! Where are you?”

“Eddie?” Wayne called out after him. “Son, it’s me. You have papa named Al and your mama was Elizabeth. Come on out son.”

The air around them intensified and then suddenly Eddie and Will were standing there looking at them in awe.

“Well I guess that’s one way for them to find us,” Will said with a snort. “They just show up where we are and prove it’s not the redcap.”

Then he saw Hopper and ran into his arms. Hopper held him tight, tears running down his craggy face.

“Wayne?” Eddie whimpered. “How did you find us?”

Wayne pulled him into a fierce hug and both of them started crying.

“The Forest God led us to you,” Billy said in wonder. “A huge stag that was all white, he led us here.”

“How are you not fainting?” Steve asked with a tinge of bitterness. If he had tried what Eddie had done, he would have passed out the moment they were safe.

Eddie pulled away from Wayne for a moment, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out Gawain, the ferret.

“Gawain used his magic to funnel into the illusion spell,” he explained with a bright, dimpled smile, “so I wouldn’t have to.”

“You already have your familiar?” Argyle asked. “That’s awesome!” he yipped happily.

Eddie looked at the talking fox and then back at Steve. “A talking fox? You have a talking fox now?”

Will snorted. “No, that’s my brother’s boyfriend. Hey, Argyle.”

The fox jumped and danced. “You’re safe! Jonathan will be so happy to hear you’re okay!”

“After he cussing me out for going near the marsh in the first place,” Will said, shaking his head. “But we really should be going before–”

There was a large snarl and something leapt out of the underbrush, straight at him. He screamed as he tried to fight off the creature.

Steve grabbed the back of the creature and threw him off of Will.

Now everyone could see him clear. He was a twisted and blackened version of the brownie that had taken up residence in the Henderson home. It had a long, pointed nose and beady red eyes. Its clothes were caked in mud and gunk, but its primary feature was its brackish, brown cap that stank of death.

Callahan put his hand over his mouth as he gagged. “Dear god, is his hat covered in dry blood?”

Steve crouched low, keeping an eye on the beast. “Yes, they slit the throats of their victims and use their hat to catch the blood, then they drink from the cap.”

“You cost me my meal, witch!” the redcap snarled. “You’ll pay for that with your blood!”

The redcap leapt at Steve and everyone else leapt back.

“How do we kill it, Steve?” Hopper growled, shoving Will behind him.

Steve pulled out a wooden stick and swung at the redcap, connecting with the creature and sending it flying back. The redcap got to its feet and grinned, blood filling its mouth and covering its teeth.

“Normally I’d say a crucifix,” he snarled. “But with the dark magic that’s been feeding it for decades I don’t think that’s going to work.”

The redcap jumped at Steve again and again he beat it back.

“Then what do we do?” Billy asked. “If it can’t be killed no one will be able to leave the town ever.”

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted quietly.

The redcap jumped and instead of going for Steve it leapt at Eddie.

Steve jumped in front of him and giant blast of yellow magic burst from Steve’s chest, sending the redcap barreling head over feet, its head hitting a rock with a sickening crack.

He rolled to his feet and everyone had to blink away the sunspots in their eyes. For standing before them was not their friend the way he normally appeared. Gone was soft green clothing and witch’s cap. He was clad head to toe in armor made of golden light. The stick was now a sword, gleaming and wicked sharp. His hazel eyes were more green and gold then brown.

“Combat witch,” Wayne breathed. “Elizabeth used to tell me about all the different kinds of witch when I’d visit. There were all kinds, but the rarest of them all were combat witches. They were able to create avatars of light to protect themselves and others.”

Eddie reached out to touch Steve, but Wayne pulled him back.

“Don’t touch him!” he hissed. “That’s pure light, boy! You’ll sheer your hand clean off.”

Everyone took two giant steps back at that proclamation.

The redcap rose to its feet, its head lulling at a strange angle. “I will eat you!!”

It flew straight for Steve again and they fought. The light seemly harming the creature but not enough.

The men were powerless as they watched they friend battle a monster for their very lives.

Then Steve grabbed the creature by the jaws and began to pull. The redcap made a horrible shrieking noise as Steve continued to tear at its mouth. Then with a sickening crunch, the creature was rent in two.

“Diditjustdidhejustdidwejust...?” Eddie stammered.

“Yup,” Hopper said, covering Will’s eyes, shielding him from the gore.

Steve spat on the horrible creature and then turned to them. “Vile, foul, wicked thing.”

He took one step forward, the armor blinking in and out. Then it shattered into light, and when they were able to see again, the armor was gone.

He took one more step and crumpled into a heap, every ounce of his magic spent.

~

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @watermelonmite @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @kultiras @kimsnooks

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @tartarusknight

10- @ollyxar @yesdangerpls @two-vampires-kissing @themoonagainstmers @estrellami-1

[inquisitornocturn]

⊱─ 𝟙𝟛𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝔸𝕦𝕘𝕦𝕤𝕥 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Cazador Szarr x f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, POV second person, human/vampire relationship, vampire powers, vampire seduction, usage of a leash, begging, dub-con, degradation if you squint really hard, smut, vaginal fingering, teasing, PiV, creampie, vampire bites, vampire turning.

➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Norona, your childhood friend and now a priestess, gets a letter from you, inviting her to come visit and see your possible groom. Desiring to see you and no less curious about the man who you might marry, the woman returns to Baldur's Gate, only to become a witness to strange events surrounding you.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 12,220 | On AO3

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: See notes at the end of the story~

She saw you laying there, calm and peaceful, not stirring even in the slightest. Just your chest rose and fell with each of your breaths under the blankets. That’s what Norona saw before she stood from her own bed and walked towards the window. It is a hot evening and she wants to open a window, for your sake and her own, hoping that a possible breeze from outside would stir the stuffy air inside.

She came to the Baldur’s Gate to visit you, her dear childhood friend. When she got your letter some weeks ago, you spoke in it of a suitor. Tall and charming, from a good family. Yet your words omitted his name and Norona was dying to hear who he is. She scarcely remembered the noble families in the city, being away for far too long because she pledged her faith to Eilistraee, which led Norona down the paths rarely taken, all across Faerun. A messenger raven found her, not without help of some wizard or two, but it did find her and informed that her dearest friend was not only missing her, but also wanted her opinion about her suitor.

Yet when Norona arrived earlier today, you were reluctant to talk about the man at all, rather focusing on reminiscing over your time together, the childish games you two played, your father, who was now gone, and how he used to show tricks with a piece of paper. All the fun things that made you both laugh.

After the supper, Norona was shown a guest room, but you, still cheerful and excitable as if no years have passed at all, insisted that you two share a room, share a bed. Just like the old times, you persisted playfully, when you two would stay awake late in the night, telling stories of faeries and scary drow, of paladins in shining armors and maidens with rosy cheeks.

So Norona stayed in your bedroom. It has changed since she last saw it. Now it is draped in rich greens and mossy tones of it, reminding the half-elf of forests and marshes that she herself loves so much. The bed, which she shared with you just moments ago before stepping to the window to open it, is royally huge and soft. Silken sheets, many pillows, lightest of blankets stuffed with best feathers. Norona is sure that the quality would befit a Duke. Or maybe even a god or a goddess, if they fancy something like a four-post bed.

Yet it is hot. Too hot to sleep, at least for Norona. So she flings the window open, noting clear skies and a moon that shines brightly on the serpentine streets of Baldur’s Gate. She briefly notices some figures, late night stragglers hurrying about, either with crime on their minds or safety of home. There are some lights in the windows, but what draws Norona’s attention is a great bat, flitting in the moonlight. It keeps coming and going in whirling circles and looks like it has been doing just that for a while now. How the half-elf didn’t hear the flap of its wings she does not pause to think, but as if her presence scared the animal, it makes one more startled whirl near the window and flies off, towards the city center, disappearing from sight.

Quite surprised, Norona wonders what a bat of this size is doing in a big city like Gate. Usually, on her travels, she had seen such bats only in most remote areas. The sheer growth of them preventing the species from safely breeding anywhere close bigger clusters of population. Fear, mainly, is what drives them away when people of all races try to get rid of beasts that truly look quite terrifying up close. And here there was at least one, if not with entire family somewhere nearby.

But Norona doesn’t get to dwell on the bat for longer, because when she turns she sees you, sitting up in bed, eyes closed. Still asleep, she deducts and comes closer, gently calling your name. When no reply comes, the half-elf carefully presses back of her fingers to your forehead, but she finds the skin cool if not slightly sweaty. From the heat, most likely.

“Are you awake?” Norona whispers quietly but when no reply comes, she notices that despite your clearly unconscious state, you are facing the open window. With a smile she wonders if you too, despite your deep sleep, wanted to feel the cool breeze of the night that softly rolls into the room as if commanded by Norona.

Before she can do anything else, lay you down or try to rouse you with her words, you seem to relax and lie back into the soft sheets, turning on your side. Still smiling, Norona feels warmth when she watches you, so calm and peaceful. Then at last she climbs in too, forgoing pulling on the blanket, and closes her eyes.

Maybe tomorrow you will tell her about that suitor.

──────────────────────────────────────────

Norona did meet the mysterious man you spoke about. Long black hair, tall in stature. He seemed like a nice enough man if a little pale. Leon, you introduced him, and Norona saw a flush on your cheeks, yet the guest himself didn’t seem to be excited to be in your presence. If anything, he stood still, unsmiling, yet perfectly polite. Maybe it is his upbringing, Norona thought to herself, and didn’t dwell on it longer. Leon spoke little and kissed your hand as he left, after spending merely half an hour, and departing right before supper.

“He’s always this quiet?” Norona wonders when you both sit down by the dining table and you laugh, waving your hand.

“Not really no, but maybe you startled him. He seems to be so unsure of himself, usually. Maybe he doesn’t like me?” You joke and let the servants pour cold, summer soup into the plates before you both.

“I’m sure he does.” Norona responds with an encouraging smile and you chuckle.

“I hope so, at the very least. It’s hard to pick a groom when I’m all alone.” You begin to eat and Norona watches you just for a moment longer before she starts on her supper as well.

She knows you don’t like to speak of your parents, both of whom passed five years ago or so. They have been influential in Baldur’s Gate enough that the Duke himself showed up at the funeral. But left alone with your family’s riches, you knew that in time you will have to find a man to marry. Leon, it seems, is only one of the candidates.

“So what is so special about this Leon that I needed to come back to see him?” Swallowing a mouthful of cold, rich soup, Norona looks over her plate onto you, and you pause before answering. It’s impolite to speak with your own mouth full, after all.

“Oh well.” You give your friend a sheepish smile. “Honestly, I just really wanted to see you again. Leon is not that special, but he’s the most handsome one at least. He says his family is adjacent to the Szarrs.” Last sentence you whisper like a conspirator and Norona’s eyebrows rise.

“Szarrs? Same ones that we heard about as children? Reclusive and strange? Weren’t there tales going around about maids never returning from the palace?” Lowering her eyes to the plate, Norona frowns. Even as kids you both heard the whispers and the gossip.

“Well yes, but you know how the tales get weaved about the nobles. I’m sure even I have some stories being told about being a loner or that I’m unmarried yet.” Rolling your eyes you scoop up more of the soup and Norona shrugs, remaining quiet for a moment while she eats too.

“You know.” She finally says. “If this Leon is a good match, then why not. Do you think he would be a suitable husband?”

“Maybe. He’s just one of the few so I’m not rushing to make a decision.” Now it’s your turn to shrug and Norona looks at you for a moment, wondering what is going on in your head. Leading on several men is not out of character to you, but how unserious you appear to be about marriage strikes your old friend as strange.

“Well, if you say so.” She offers a smile which you don’t even see because you are focused on your meal.

Rest of the supper continues in silence while Norona wonders if there’s another purpose of her being here, one that you are not sharing.

If there’s something more, you’re not telling her.

──────────────────────────────────────────

“Look, look!” With an excited shout you point at the storefront of Facemaker's Boutique that Norona remembers being in the same spot since forever. You’re pointing at a dress, crimson red in color, truly beautiful.

When you grab Norona’s wrist and pull her with you towards the window, the half-elf observes finer details: the corset that is cut with a tasteful wedge to show off cleavage, how it emphasizes a slim waist of the showing doll it’s put upon, laces and beads – or are they gems? – in intricate patterns, contrasting with dark, rich red against the crimson of the fabric beneath, but most breathtaking is the volume of skirt that makes entire design appear as if the dress is bleeding a pool of blood around it.

It’s truly a wonderful garment, but Norona does not remember you picking such bold fashion statements before. Usually you went for pink or sky blue, most often white. When she turns away from the dress, she sees you completely enamored by the dress, your fingers gripping her wrist not painfully, but almost, because of how excited you are. “Should I get it?”

“Are you sure?” Norona asks and eyes your chosen attire for today - a moss-green dress with a tree-bark brown corset. Then she looks back at the scarlet vision that is a statement and an assertion both. She knows you as gentle, maybe whimsical, slightly naïve, but not the enchantress that would wear something like this.

“It’s so beautiful!” You sigh and finally release Norona’s wrist, stepping even closer to the glass. “Although I don’t know where I would wear it.” After a moment you admit with defeat and your face loses the joy that was there just moments ago. “You’re right, it would be silly of me to get this one. It’s truly breathtaking, but maybe meant for a woman other than me.”

“Don’t be sad. There’s other beautiful dresses that fit you more and are not as…” Norona struggles to find a different word than cutting and smiles, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Your closet is full already, I’m sure of it.”

You chuckle and turn to her, giving her an innocent shrug. “Of that you are correct.” One more glance to the stunning gown that your heart aches to have and you turn away, pointing at the store nearby. “Oh let’s go there!” You beam a smile and Norona relaxes, smiling back to you and following in your steps when you depart from the Facemaker’s storefront at last.

When you whirl to Norona again, wanting to tell her about a ring that one of the suitors have gifted you just three days ago, you notice a man in the crowd. It’s an overcast day and the sky is brewing with rain, therefore a lot of people are wearing warmer clothes and coats. The man easily blends in with them, if not for his tall stature that draws your attention to him. That’s what you think, at first.

Halting in your footsteps, you look at him, eyes meeting and the color of his irises is the same deep, rich ruby as is the dress you nearly purchased. Pointy ears adorned with small studs for earrings and black hair, surrounding the collar of elf’s black coat. He’s not smiling, not scowling. No expression at all is turning his sharp facial features in a show of emotion, but an intense gaze that locks with yours tells more than words or demeanor ever could.

You

are

seen.

Couple figures pass, huddled in their hooded cloaks but you notice nothing except the sea of red that opens up before your own very eyes. You hear your name being called, but it does not register, not right away. Only when Norona tugs at your puffy dress sleeve is when the man turns his gaze away and you snap out of your stupor. Casting a quick glance to your friend, you turn back to where the man stood, but he’s gone. “What is it- Oh.”

Looking around you feel a strange pull to find him, although you wouldn’t know the first thing to say to the elf even if you did find him in the crowd of strangers.

“What happened?” Norona’s brows knit because she doesn’t understand. She didn’t see what you saw, the elf that managed to become a calling beacon, a lighthouse, in a sea of cloaks and the grim haze of the overcast.

“I saw a man. An elf. Do you see him? He was tall.” You rush to explain, stepping towards where he stood but stopping before merging into the crowd.

“What? What man?” Norona now looks around as well, but she sees no one who stands out, no tall elves, that’s for sure.

“I well…” You sigh and give up, realizing that he’s gone without a trace for you to follow, but a strange longing remains in your chest, like a leash pulling you towards this unknown man like a lead upon a pet dog. “Nevermind, I thought… Ah, well. Doesn’t matter.” With a smile you turn to Norona and beam an even wider one. “The shop!”

Walking away towards an open door of the store, you leave Norona behind for a moment longer, who lingers in the spot and glances around once more. Something doesn’t feel right about this, yet she cannot say exactly what. To the priestess it feels like a dark cloud has passed over the street and yet it sounds silly even in her own thoughts.

“Norona?” She hears your voice and forces herself to look away from the passing people and towards you, where you wave at her to hurry with a slender, delicate hand.

“Coming!”

──────────────────────────────────────────

“No! Let go of me! Let go!”

A voice, high pitched and full of panicked anger rings through the hallway that Norona just stepped into. She pauses, surprised to hear sounds of a scuffle and rushes to the open door from with the voice is heard again. “No! No I won’t go! Please!”

Inside a scene unfolds before Norona: a dozen or so broken dishes, upturned pots and ruined food everywhere on the floor, utensils scattered and knives tossed about, way too unsafe to be left like this. And then a boy, a tiefling, no older than fifteen, being held by a Cook and his helper, a woman of many years. The boy is thrashing and the Cook has to be careful lest the horns pierce him, but tiefling’s tail keeps swinging about wildly and hits the woman on the back repeatedly, which she takes with a flinch each time.

“What is going on?” Norona asks loudly and the boy’s eyes, color of amber set in the dark sclera, turn to her, full of panic.

“Let me go! I have to go! I have to follow!”

“Follow who? Your lady?”

“No! I have to!” Suddenly the tiefling falls quiet and turns his eyes to the kitchen window. When Norona follows his gaze, together with the kitchen servants, at first she sees nothing but darkness, but then…

A large bat is fleeting behind the window, only showing itself when it drifts into the moonlight. It rained earlier and after that the sky cleared, revealing beautiful visage of a moon in all her glory. Now that beauty is briefly obscured by the animal repeatedly, hiding the light with its massive body every time it comes closer to the glass.

“What an ugly thing.” The Cook grumbles and Norona has to agree. Is it the same bat she saw couple nights ago? One that fled when she appeared in the window? She can’t be too sure, they all look the same from this distance.

“Please!” The boy suddenly cries and the bat lingers by the window a second longer, then flies off, quickly hidden by the shadows of massive trees right outside.

When Norona looks at the tiefling, he’s already hanging limp in the hands of his captors, head dangling like some child’s toy, appearing nearly boneless. “I won’t resist, I will be good.” He mutters and Norona first makes eye contact with the Cook then with the woman but there are no answers any of them can provide.

The Cook, a burly dwarf with a mustache that would shame any noble, pulls the boy up onto his feet and spits on the floor. “Clean up the mess you’ve made, idiot.” Then he waves his hand in a dismissal way and walks down the stairs to where Norona knows pantry to be.

The woman releases the boy as well and he stands there, defeated and looking embarrassed, but Norona still does not understand what has transpired before she entered the scene. “But what happened?”

“The lad’s gon’ crazy, m’lady, that’s what ‘appened.” The woman glares at the tiefling for a moment longer, but when he doesn’t move she steps to the side and gets a mop, then a bucket and thrusts both into his hands. “’ere, take these and get workin’ before Loreidas kick yer arse until yer tail comes up ye gullet.” She scoffs and gives Norona a look, then shakes her head in disapproval and walks outside, most likely to breathe in some fresh air.

Not feeling like she understands anything, Norona remains in her spot, surprised and not sure what to make of this even when the boy wets the mop and begins sweeping it over the dirty floor. He doesn’t look at the half-elf, nor does he say anything else. It’s as if she’s not even here. She wonders if he will speak to her if she tries to ask again, but decides against it and with one more cautious glance to the boy, she leaves the kitchen.

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For seven days you’ve been going to sleep feeling well and waking exhausted, weak and confused. You don’t know what is causing this, but when you wake up tonight, just a mere sight of Norona sleeping next you puts you at ease.

You haven’t admitted to her, the real reason why she’s here, but you’re scared of sleeping alone. The weakness, that the local healer couldn’t find the cause of, began wearing you down to dangerous levels just before Norona arrived. Her presence is making you feel better, relaxed and even though you still wake up tired, it’s not as bad is it has been for days. Unlike the last morning you woke alone, without your friend guarding you.

But tonight it’s almost too hot to sleep. The windows are open and a gentle breeze is moving through the sheer curtains, making them dance like ghosts your nanny used to tell about during late winter nights. When you were still a little girl and imagined yourself a princess. You remember those tales well, of lost lovers and angered parents, of spirits returned to haunt those they missed or hated. But you haven’t seen such things yourself nor you believe them.

Norona stirs and you glance at her, then smile softly. Placing your hand upon hers you resist giving it a comforting squeeze, too afraid to wake your friend. Her presence is making your heart lighter. And despite what you told her, you don’t look forward to the prospect of marrying. If only you had your mother to guide you through the courting, but you don’t and that makes you feel as if you’re stumbling about blindly. What does make one man a suitable candidate and not the other? You don’t know, you haven’t been prepared for this. Heaving a sigh, you know you should sleep and you toss the thin cover aside, not wanting anything else to cover you except for your linen nightgown.

Yet as you fluff your pillow and turn to lie back down, a sound catches your attention. A quiet flap of wings, right outside the window ahead of the bed. At first you ignore it, thinking of pigeons or some messenger creatures sent by local wizards, but your mind corrects you about the birds and so, with curiosity, you glance towards the window only to let out a loud gasp. Immediately you clamp a palm over your mouth and glance at Norona who is still fast asleep. But when you look back towards the window, the giant bat, black as ink, keeps hovering with the help of its huge, leathery wings.

You’ve never seen a bat like this before. It’s almost obscene in how big it is, unnerving you to the last fiber in your body. Despite the heat you shudder and notice beast’s red, beady eyes. You are not sure if it’s looking at you, but you feel watched, observed, studied.

“Shoo.” You hiss at the bat before returning the palm to your mouth, but it doesn’t move, just keeps flapping, hovering in the same spot, unnaturally still for a creature needing to stay in the air.

What you know of bats is that they flit around, side to side, swift and hunting, but this one appears like it’s here for a purpose, although you can’t understand what kind. There’s nothing inside the room that would attract a bat of any size, let alone this kind. No fruits or sweets, no honey or open bottles of mead. Yet the bat remains and it does not fly into the room no matter how much you expect it to. Any moment now, you keep thinking, but nothing happens and at last the animal flaps its wings harder, retreating from the open window. Another second, and it flies off, disappearing out of sight when it takes a turn.

With relief you exhale and slump where you sit, rubbing your sweaty forehead with trembling fingers. You don’t know what you would’ve done if it flew inside, if it started thrashing all around and causing chaos. You are just happy that it didn’t happen. Glancing at still asleep Norona, you wonder if you should wake her, tell her about the bat, but after a moment’s hesitation you decide against it. It was just a bat, no matter how big or terrifying.

Again you look towards the window, now debating yourself if you should close it, but decide not to. The night is way too hot and the animal seemed hesitant to get inside so maybe it won’t return. Clearly there’s nothing here that could entice it to come back. No, it will be looking somewhere else to sate its hunger.

That’s what you tell yourself repeatedly while you take one last cautious glance towards the window and lie down, quickly closing your eyes. You wish to sleep, to rest, and hopefully wake up less tired. You wish for pleasant dreams and hope they will come swiftly to you.

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Sitting on a chaise lounge, you find yourself in a room you don’t recognize. It has heavy dark drapes over the windows and candles everywhere. When you look down, you realize that you’re wearing a dress, similar to the one you saw at Facemaker’s storefront. Except for crimson it’s black, with shimmering gems that reflect the candles in a joyfully bright manner.

Your attention gets caught by the movement behind you and you turn over the shoulder to see who it is, expecting Norona or one of your maids. But you don’t get a glimpse of who is here with you. You just feel two large hands cup your face from behind, cold fingers chilling your skin beneath them, slipping around your chin. Whoever is holding you turns your face upright until you finally see a man leaning over you.

You know you're dreaming because he does not speak. It's the man from the streets of Gate, the one you met before. Even though you're seeing him upside-down, you recognize him with partial clarity, the memory of your encounter surfacing partially muddled, as it often is when you're caught between wakefulness and a dream.

Remaining silent, he leans in closer and strands of his black hair fall like curtains around the face. You don’t sense danger nor alarm of any kind. Instead, you feel like you can sense his intentions and they are not to harm you. When he leans ever closer you smile, delighted to see him again even though you don’t know the reason why you’re feeling such way. He does not smile in return, but instead leans ever closer and you close your eyes in anticipation.

Yet it’s not the kiss you receive, but a sensation of his tongue against yours. It doesn’t startle you for whatever reason. Instead you part your lips even further, letting him press the wet muscle upon yours in a demanding way, as if he’s yearning to taste you in a way only a few have done before. You hear your own moan, quiet and almost shy, and the grip on your chin tightens, his lips envelop your mouth and you melt under the kiss with fingers gripping the skirts of your gown.

When the elven man pulls back, his crimson eyes meet yours and you find yourself out of breath, sensing your face flush with heat that feels almost ethereal. When he releases your face, you try to follow his journey from behind you, yet unsuccessfully. Then, there’s a hand extended to you. When you look from it to the tall man, he’s looming over you but you don’t feel threatened or scared. In fact, you take his hand and despite the chill in his fingers, you hold on tighter, letting him pull you to his chest and begin leading you in a dance to a music tune that only he hears.

He’s smiling now, as he spins you around, one hand on the small of your back, other gently holding your hand up despite your, in comparison, firmer grip. He’s smiling, but there’s something else than mirth in his eyes, a wanton kind of need that you’ve seen in men before. Yet instead of repulsing you, it draws you in. You try to stop the dance, to slow your feet, wanting your lips against his again despite being taught better than to kiss strange men during dances. But he does not let you to lead, so you become increasingly restless, not being able to do anything about it.

“Stop, please.” You finally give in and plead, but your voice sounds distant, like it barely belongs to you.

The man smiles a little wider, revealing his teeth and it makes his features appear sharper, more refined. “My lady, before long you will be pleading me to keep going.” He says in a way that makes your back tense and your eyes widen. You don’t know what that means, you can’t even begin to guess, and yet there’s a dark promise in those words, so thinly veiled.

“If you only told me your name.” You try saying, but it’s like your tongue refuses to obey you, language turning into a forgotten skill. Despite that it looks like he understands and keeps smiling, keeps turning with you in arms to the music you still haven’t heard a single note of.

“All in due time.” The words echo more in your mind rather than being spoken out loud and the elven man gives your fingers a short squeeze that is clearly meant to be comforting.

You want to tell him that you don’t understand, that you want to but can’t, but the dream begins to fade and you wake slowly, feeling exhausted once again.

“How are you?” Norona asks by your side and with your bleary eyes you find her sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed. Morning light is coming through the windows and blue sky promises no rain to ruin the beauty of another summer day.

“Sleepy.” You murmur and turn to the side, burying your face into the pillow. Norona chuckles and gently rubs your shoulder.

“I heard there’s a delivery for you downstairs. One of your maids came earlier because she thought you’d be awake.”

The dream still lingers in your mind, yet when you hear of some sort of package, you look at Norona immediately, sleep forgotten and tiredness ignored for the time being. “Did she say from whom?”

To that Norona only shrugs and with curiosity beginning to gnaw at you like an impatient animal wanting to be released from its pen, you sit up and stretch, chasing last dregs of the dream away. “Oh I wonder what it is.” With a smile you try to sound cheerful despite feeling tired and the half-elf smiles in turn.

“You’ll have to go and check it out to know.”

Trying to keep up your usual cheery appearances, you get out of bed and prepare for the day in a delicate rush that makes Norona smile and cheer you on. Yet despite all that, she sees that something is amiss about you. She can’t quite put a finger on what does not seem right, but the half-elf notices the darkened skin under your eyes and a smile that appears slightly too unnatural, like you’re straining against the exhaustion.

All of that gets forgotten, and Norona dismisses signs of your fatigue as a bad night’s rest, when you’re flowing the stairs in a hurry. With a giggle and light voice you discuss with her what could be waiting for you so early in the morning and the maids smile when you pass them, presenting your usual cheerful self.

In the living room, on a massive oak table meant to seat a group of at least twelve, among the candelabras and the vases full of blooming flowers, there rests a box. Black as night and tied with a red ribbon that comes up in a big, double bow on top of it. Stopping by the box that is square and quite sizeable, you wait for Norona to join your side and then look at her excitedly. “Do you know what it is?”

“No more than you do, and I wouldn’t guess.” She smiles but curiosity has taken over her as well and she gently touches the satin ribbon. “It’s beautiful.”

“I know!” You chuckle and touch the box too, then the ribbon as well, but impatience gets the better of you and after exchanging one more glance with Norona, you can’t contain your excitement any longer. And so you pull on the satin, letting the ribbon become undone.

It slips out of its knots easily, elegantly and you push it off the top of the box, gently taking the sides and without any more delay lifting it. Immediately you peer inside and gasp, shocked. You recognize the crimson fabric and the gems sown so delicately into the laces. “It cannot be, surely?” You gasp and put the lid of the box to the side, tracing your fingertips over the intricate craftmanship that went into this dress.

And you know it’s a dress. Even more so, it’s the same one that you have been looking at in the store’s window just few days ago, enchanted by the beauty of it.

“Is it the same one-?” Norona asks, but does not even get to finish her question to know that it is the exact same dress. “It must’ve cost a fortune!” She exclaims almost reverently and touches the gems as well, before you two exchange a look. “Who could it be? Leon?”

“No I don’t think…” You murmur but then shrug and smile. “No, I don’t think it’s him. Only you know that I wanted this one. Maybe there’s a note, help me look.”

For the next minute, together you carefully lift the dress out of the box and first you press it to your chest, spinning around with it and feeling the skirts sweep over the floor. You imagine wearing it in a grand ball, dancing in it, just like you did in a dream. Then you pause, remembering the stranger in your night’s vision, but Norona does not let you think about him for long.

“There’s nothing here, no note.” She says and when you turn back to face the woman, you watch her lift the box and turn it around. First she shakes it over the table, after turning it upside down, and then inspects every inch of it, but even you can see that there’s truly not even a scrap of note.

“Maybe I’m ought to announce a ball!” You smile and with the wonderful dress still in your arms, you approach Norona’s side, catching her eye. “Maybe whoever sent this gift to me will show themselves then. What do you think? Isn’t it exciting?!” Barely able to contain yourself, you chuckle and hug the dress to your chest.

Yet Norona only rises an eyebrow at you, concerned to a degree. “Are you sure?”

“Who else it could be from if not a secret admirer?” You giggle and stroke the corset of the dress, clearly already imagining yourself wearing it, but Norona remembers the stranger and a feeling of unease fills her chest.

“Well, maybe, but-“ She begins, yet you interrupt her with a laugh.

“Oh come on, Norona, don’t be so grumpy. The day is beautiful, I got a dress I dreamed of and I have a ball to arrange.” With that you hug the gown tighter and rush off, most likely to find your maids.

Norona remains by the table, not sure how to feel about all this. She glances at the empty box, still in her hands, and wonders who could’ve been watching that day to see that you wished for this garment. You did mention several suitors before, so most likely one of them, who else? But the thought of that stranger still lingers in half-elf’s mind like a dark cloud threatening to pour rain upon a celebration.

“Come here!” She suddenly hears your voice and hesitates, but lowers the black box onto the table and sighs. Maybe she’s overthinking. Most likely she is.

With a turn of her heel, Norona heads towards your voice.

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He knew she was away, the half-elf priestess that haunted the side of his chosen one for days now. And nights too, which he found most insufferable. But not tonight, no. Tonight he will make you his. It won’t be hard either, he is sure of it. He visited you before, tasted your blood, lurked in your dreams. So he knows that with only one last push and you will succumb, submit, obey.

Tonight, when he finds himself in your room, the Vampire Lord is greeted by a calm breathing of one, not two. Leon has been useless in luring you away from your maids and your friend. He has been punished for it, appropriately to the size of the sin he committed. But now he has to do this himself. Come here, skulking in the shadows, avoiding the eyes that should not turn in his direction but have before. That doesn’t matter. The chase and the planning have finally come to a culmination.

Approaching your bed, where Cazador sees your form laying there in deep slumber, he thinks of why he’s here, why you, why all of this. If you were any other lowly soul unworthy of his attentions beyond just the purpose of sustenance, you’d be dragged through the hallways of his palace, kicking and screaming, most likely crying. Until you were dropped by his spawn at the foot of his throne and made worthy of the only purpose a mortal can serve to a being so much higher on the food chain than themselves. But not you.

No, your influence as a noble, the riches you possess, the noticeability of your life has made Cazador come up with a plan, which is now almost fulfilled. He can’t just whisk you away to his lair and to the dungeons, chain you and keep you there, not without someone to come knocking, looking for you. And that would be too simple, too unsophisticated. That would be a plan of those lesser than him. And lesser than you. You, Cazador has to acknowledge, deserve more than that.

He leans over the bed like a dreadful shadow and watches you slumber, the cover abandoned and just a linen white gown covering your form that appears so small among the pillows and the size of the bed. At first, he didn’t find you intriguing beyond what he can gain by possessing you. Always looking to advance his position in Baldur’s Gate and, in time, the entirety of the Sword Coast, Cazador only focused on what you can give to him. Yet in weeks that he spent watching you, tracking where you went and who you talked to, hearing about you from Leon, all of that intrigued him. Among the nobles so saturated in debauchery, he began seeing you as a flower, stainless and without sin except that of naivety.

And then Cazador’s desires changed. Instead of wanting to make you just another spawn of his, lacking free will and doing whatever deeds he needs done for him, the vampire found himself desiring a trophy. A pretty pet to sit by his side, completely obedient not because of his powers cast upon you, but out of your own choice. That untainted flower that he could paint in crimson, like blank canvas that only Cazador would be allowed to draw upon.

He has to have you.

And now he’s here, hand hovering over your form, listening to your breathing that is deep and even. Cazador is almost reluctant to touch you and sully what he perceives as a first pure desire that he had in decades. That’s not true, and deep down he’s aware of it, but in this moment the vampire feels almost reverent. Cold fingers touch your warm shoulder and yet you do not stir. They trace down your naked arm and you remain as beautiful as the last sunrise Cazador has ever saw but kept fondly in his memory.

Something stirs within him, like a glimmer of doubt, a drop of humanity that hasn’t been poisoned by his monstrous nature and for a moment, just for a fraction of a second, he wants to leave and let you remain untouched. But then, like a candlelight in a cruel hand, this little ray of light in the darkness gets snuffed out without a trace.

Cazador’s features slowly change as his face splits with a wide grin. So close to his goal, he can finally enthrall the one that he has been pursuing so meticulously. And thus his fingers wrap around your waist, lift your hand and bring it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss that he knows is a last gesture of true kindness that you will ever receive from him.

“Wake now, my little lamb.” He whispers and your eyes open on command. He knows you won’t scream, won’t struggle and won’t try to run away. Just one more spell cast upon your mortal mind to make his task easier.

When your dazed eyes find him, you gasp but don’t scream, just sit up in urgency and draw your fingers from his, clutching them to your chest.

“What… are you doing here?” You whisper while your heart flutters in your chest like a caged bird. The man who you recognize well now straightens his back, the grin remaining on his face.

“Stand, my dear. I won’t harm you.” He says in a way that you find it impossible to disobey.

And so you stand, letting your gown cover you except for one strap slipping off your shoulder. The man, the one you dreamed about before, is not looking at you as he undoes the clasps of his long coat, making you wonder how he is not hot in such summer heat. When he takes it off and drapes it carefully over the backrest of the chair nearby, then the elf turns back to you. And while unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, while rolling the sleeves up and slowly approaching you once again, he lets his eyes roam over you.

“My name is Lord Cazador Szarr, dear. Do you know who I am?” He asks in a quiet voice and you swallow dryly, noticing the same hunger that you saw in his eyes when you dreamt.

“Yes.” The weakness in your voice sounds like gentleness instead and Cazador looks satisfied by your answer.

“I am here…” He pauses until he’s right in front of you, nearly intimidating you by the sheer tallness of his stature, but you don’t feel afraid, just upturn your face so that your eyes don’t lose the sight of his. “…to make you mine.”

You gasp when his left hand grips the underside of your jaw. You didn’t even see the movement, but that matters little. Now you begin to feel scared and stepping back you try to escape his harsh grip. It doesn’t pain you yet, but you know it will if Cazador wills it to.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear.” He whispers and the grin that appeared confident now gains an edge that makes you gasp for air again. You’re not quite terrified yet, but something feels utterly wrong. Why is he here, in your room? You don’t understand. There’s like an invisible hand stopping your mind from deeper comprehension. A veil cast upon your very soul that allows you to feel startled at most, when you have a feeling that you should be running.

“To make me… yours?” You whisper and step back, allowed to do so but the grip doesn’t loosen. Cazador just follows your tentative journey, step by small step, until your back bumps into the wall.

“Does that not please you?” He hums with predatory satisfaction and something that until now escaped your awareness downs upon you. How his eyes glow in the darkness of the room, how sharp his grin appears and not because of an intention, but because of…

“What are you?” Whispering faster than you could think of not doing so, you grope to your right, knowing that a nightstand is there, searching for something, anything, just in case you need to protect yourself.

“What am I? I’m your present and your future.” Cazador releases your chin and you flatten yourself against the wall even more. Your fingers only brush over a softcover book that you read in absence of Norona and nothing else. You’re completely defenseless.

But that sensation of growing urgency begins to dull when Cazador presses a hand to the wall by the side of your head. His other finds your hip and the chilly touch feels pleasantly cooling through the thin linen you’re wearing. Your eyelids droop and you feel like you’re submerged in water. Weightless but comfortable. When Szarr leans closer to your face, you keep looking at him, trying to remember what was it that you wanted to say, but thoughts escape you like broken threads and you rise your hand. It ghosts over Cazador’s shoulder, to the side of his neck and you press your fingertips there.

Suddenly, you inhale sharply when understanding strikes you and yet even that is dulled by whatever blanket of charm has been cast upon you. No pulse thrums beneath your touch, not even a weak one, and while given a chance that may begin to scare you, no time is given for you to process the increasing evidence of a monster that cloaked himself in a skin of a Lord. Instead, the dream becomes reality when his tongue presses against the roof of your mouth, making you gasp and allow him even more access. He took advantage of your distraction and parted lips, of whatever mild emotion of intrigue and shock you had been allowed to feel.

Your eyes are still locked on Cazador’s and he grins again, leaning more into you, over you. His fingers grip the flesh of your hip with more need. A type of urgency you recognize as passion in the making and that ignites a fire within you in response. It’s sweltering, in comparison to your muted emotions, and it overtakes your mind in mere seconds. You want this, you want his touch, crave this intrusion that becomes a kiss with Cazador’s tongue now pressing against yours and with his lips sealed tightly over yours, muffling any sweet mewls that he causes you to make.

Yet you don’t feel his breath tickling your skin even when the kiss becomes deep, needy, and your fingers grip onto his neck as if begging Cazador not to pull back, not to break the magic of the moment. He moves slightly, releasing your hip and you chase after his touch, pushing off the wall and closing whatever that was left of the gap between you, pressing yourself against his imposing form. Grasping at the sides of him, your fingers tugging at Cazador’s waist, you beg, if not with words then with touch, for him to embrace you and hold you. Instead, however, the elf breaks away from your lips and smiles a smile that can be mistaken for gentles.

“I think you wish to be mine, don’t you?” He whispers with satisfied amusement and you try to understand if he’s right in this assessment. Do you wish whatever it is that this man offers? What is it exactly that being his mean, what it entails? Yet it’s so difficult to think, to concentrate, to understand…

“What?” Your eyes widen when Cazador puts something around your neck. You haven’t even noticed his hands moving or the object that now encircles your throat. Letting your fingers explore the leather before you even get an answer, you step backwards from him and bump into the wall again.

“This is to ensure that you know your place, little lamb.” Cazador smiles a vicious kind of smile but that too does not really reach you through the fog of your mind. Instead, you focus on a leash that is trailing from the collar around your neck.

“But why?” You ask, not quite comprehending why would he need to leash you.

But Cazador is not in a mood to give you an answer and he steps away from you, letting the lead become taunt when you don’t follow his brief departure. Yet the moment you feel the pull of a leash, you make one unsure step forward. In fraction of a second your hesitation makes Cazador sneer and he pulls on the lead so hard you come forwards, stumbling over your own feet and dropping to your knees before him.

Wide-eyed and confused if you have upset him and why, you look up, sensing rather than seeing Cazador pull up on the leash, making the collar dig into the side of your neck and front of your throat. It begins to choke you and you grip at the collar but to get a hold on it seems impossible, your fingers slipping over rounded edges of smooth, oiled leather. “Please?” You choke out and the elf awards you another satisfied grin.

“What was that, hm?” He taunts, watching you from above like a god that has a choice to rain wrath upon you or favors. Which you might receive will depend on how well you worship him.

“Please, stop.” Spluttering and choking, you beg again, feeling the burning in your lungs that is making you even dizzier than before.

“What was that?” He asks again, keeping the leash so taunt you wonder if it would snap soon. The tension and the discomfort make you want to rise from your knees and yet you have a feeling that Cazador would not approve of it. So you beg again. Beg and mean it.

“Please, Lord Cazador, stop. It hurts.” You rasp with your voice barely audible and he tugs on a leash towards himself. You stumble after it, reaching out and briefly flailing until you grip onto his legs, preventing yourself from crashing into his knees.

Gasping for air, you remain still for just a second, your heart hammering within your chest like its steel being shaped on a dwarven anvil, then the leash is pulled again, your head gets lifted upwards and a side of your face presses against Cazador. Confused and still trying to recover from the scare that you lived through just moments ago, you don’t quite understand what’s going on just yet, but vampire’s hand on the top of your head clears it up swiftly.

You look up, beginning to feel a sheen of sweat around your neck and on your palms. It gets absorbed by the expensive fabric of his pants that feels so soft against your cheek if not for the hardness underneath. Eyes widening, you try to find words, form a question to ask, but his smirk and the glow of Cazador’s eyes are answers enough. He pushes your face against his crotch harder, the erection so solid that it hurts the skin over your cheekbone. “You will serve me tonight and afterwards you will belong to me. So show me how much you crave to be mine.”

As Cazador demands your fealty, his fingers and nails begin to dig into your scalp and you whine with pain, flushing fiercely at the realization what he has in mind to you. He waits for something before you’re released and without knowing what else to do, you stick out your tongue and move your head just enough to leave a wet streak over the laces of his crotch. “Again.” Cazador says and from his eyes you can tell that you’re satisfying him and his wishes. So you repeat the action, ignoring how dry your tongue feels with the fabric absorbing your saliva, trying to let your tongue run along the entirety of his length even if it’s clad in cloth.

“You learn fast, dear. You may yet earn better treatment than those who fail me so often.” He hums the praise and on his lips it sounds sickly sweetly, like poisoned honey dripping from viper’s fangs.

Fangs, not unlike his own. Sharp and dangerous. And at this point you don’t need to ask Cazador what he is. You know. Maybe you always knew, ever since that first meeting in a busy street. You don’t get to linger over this thought for long because the leash is used again and vampire drags you to your feet, making you gasp and choke from the collar not relenting its grip over your throat.

“To the bed, little lamb. Let me taste the warmth before it is extinguished forever.” Not quite understanding what he means, you do as instructed and walk towards the bed.

After you climb into it, Cazador stops you by the leash and you look at him over your shoulder, only to be toppled to your side by his free hand. The smile that he had the entire time is gone now and his burning sanguine gaze eyes your form. Keeping the leash taunt but without making it choke you, he traces his palm over your ankle, your calf, over your knee, gripping the flesh of your thigh. The white nightgown rises with his touch and while it’s hot in this room, you still shiver. You enjoy his icy touch, you realize, and exhale when Cazador’s touch seeks further heights. Of your naked hip, the curve of your waist, but stops just below your breast.

Instead of progressing in revealing your bare body underneath the white linen, Cazador grips your leg just beneath the knee and lifts it, making you quietly yelp in surprise. Exposed so intimately you feel your face begin to burn and look away, gripping the sheets under your fingers in shame. His gaze feels almost physical in how it notices every little detail of your most intimate part. The plump swell of your folds, indicating the rush of blood from arousal, and of course the moistness that’s already smearing inner sides of both your thighs. A glistening, pale strand connects your left thigh to your core and the vampire smiles again.

Draping that same leg over his shoulder and preventing you from possibly hiding the sight from Cazador’s hungry gaze, he steps to the edge of the bed, not tearing his eyes away from your slit. The hand that holds the leash strokes your thigh that’s still on the bed while he holds the other firmly pressed against himself, and you feel his chilling touch slip over your folds, sending a shiver through your body that makes the man exhale with anticipation.

The fingers keep exploring. Tracing your delicate flesh, Cazador pokes at your clit and makes you jump, which in turn makes him chuckle. “So sensitive, hm? So needy. I knew you will enjoy this kind of attention.” There’s no mockery in his tone, but a degree of arrogancy can be heard and you squirm slightly, wanting to slip away from his grasp but knowing that you can’t even if you try.

Another whiny gasp escapes your lips when he nudges the sensitive nub again and you focus on the bedsheets, trying not to think of how exposed you are, prodded and poked at like a specimen on some shop’s counter. Yet Cazador continues, dipping a fingertip into your core, making it slick and bringing it back to your clit so that he can begin rubbing it in slow, tantalizing circles. You struggle to remain still and every time you fail, the collar reminds you of guidance that Cazador can apply to your foggy mind. If not by word, then by action he will make you obey and do exactly what he wants.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” The question catches you completely off-guard and you look at the vampire immediately, eyes wide in both shock and embarrassment.

“N-no, but-“

Cazador scoffs, but doesn’t appear to be too displeased. He just smirks again and looks down at his finger working your clit to swelling with perfect precision. You whimper and look down, feeling your face burning with shame. Yes, you are no virgin, but the encounters that you did have have been youthful explorations beneath the sheets, not… this wanton display of everything that you are.

“Please, stop.” You whimper again with your thighs trembling from strain.

It’s pleasure more than shame, but you refuse to succumb to it. It clouds your mind even more, yet you want to preserve the last fraction of decency that you have left. Cazador, however, cares nothing for your feelings. Instead, his index and middle finger move and spread your folds so wide you choke back a desperate wail and chew on your bottom lip, looking away once again.

“Don’t be embarrassed, dear.” Cazador chuckles but it sounds darkly joyful. “This is a luxury that you cannot afford. This you shall learn soon enough.” As he speaks, the vampire rubs your spread flesh then removes his fingers on to trace the drenched entrance until he plunges his digits into you, up to the knuckles, making you cry out and lower your head to the bed, whimpering and moaning.

“Please…” You beg and you don’t know how many times you used this little, fragile word already, but even you understand that it is pointless. But you can’t stop clinging to the hope that Cazador might change his mind, leave this room and never return. This hope is almost childish in its naivety but you are incapable of letting it go.

“Shhh.” Shushing you softly, Cazador begins moving his fingers within you. It hurts at first and you strain against the intrusion, but when he curls them, exploring the slick and hot passage of your body, it begins to relax as if on command, clenching and releasing around his fingers, like it’s begging for more friction.

You hear the vampire chuckle again and he pulls them out. Next moment an obscene sound is heard when, so loud in the otherwise perfect stillness of the room, Cazador sucks the evidence of your arousal from his fingers. “Unsullied. Not too much.” He says more to himself than to you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trembling and hating yourself for wanting more, for that fire that has spread like wildfire through your body, burning hottest where he touched you.

Another plea forms on the tip of your tongue. One that would beg for more and harder. But Cazador is ahead of you and your puny wishes. Counting midnight hours until the dawn breaks, he does not intend to waste more time he can’t afford. So he moves to unlace his pants and you catch a glimpse of that when you muster up the courage, urged by your own licentious needs that push everything else out of your mind, and glance up at him. A strand of hair falls over the right side of the vampire’s face, obscuring one scarlet eye that is focused on what his fingers are doing. You don’t even have half a mind to move. Despite the leash and your leg still on his shoulder, you remain as you are and wait.

A gasp escapes you when he releases his cock. Long, hard and ready to impale you upon it, it swings slightly when Cazador moves to lower his pants just enough for comfort of movement. He notices your wide eyes and amusedly lets you stare for a moment or two longer. “I advise you relax.” The vampire informs but you’re unable to peel away your eyes from the sight.

Watching him grip the base of his length, somehow imposing and intimidating and yet at the same time making you swallow with hunger, you chew on your bottom lip in anticipation. As if in a mood to tease you, Cazador rubs his swollen tip against the dripping folds and parts them with it, briefly nudging at your clit and eliciting a mewl out of you. He sees how you can’t tear your gaze away, how voracious your eyes betray you feeling. Still, it’s a game to him, one that he will have an eternity to play with you if he wishes so and right now – he does wish for it.

He teases you again, one more slow stroke over your cunt that Cazador knows is ready to swallow his cock whole. He dips only the head into you, making you release your bottom lip and gasp as if urging him now, but he pulls it out, swinging it lightly between his fingers, showing you how wet your body left him from this little contact. “You are ready, are you not?” He taunts and you look up at him, swallow again and nod. “Beg for it then.”

Beg? He wants you to beg? Something deep in your soul tries to remind you that this is not who you are, but lust drowns the small voice out, erasing it without a trace, and so you lick your lips before you beg, just as he wants you to. “Please, Lord Cazador. I… I need you. Please… You can’t- I mean, I beg you, please take me.”

Cazador’s laughter startles you and you smile sheepishly, feeling silly, but he does not let this feeling fester in your head. Instead, he tugs at your leash and smirks, completely satisfied with your amateur attempt at pleading for what you crave. “You’ll learn to do better. In time. Now, for your reward.” He looks down and points his cock at you again, aiming it right where you need him most and this time you don’t shy away, watching how he pushes his length into you, slowly, inch by inch.

Your body strains with even bigger intrusion than what his fingers have been and you moan, but persist in observing until he’s fully inside of you, leaving you panting with both exertion to accommodate his size and with impatience. Cazador doesn’t remain sheathed for long. He pulls the leash taunt and makes you look at his face while he begins to thrust. It’s not slow or gentle and you clench your teeth through which the moans still escape despite it all. “Keep looking at me, little lamb. This is a lesson I won’t teach twice.” The vampire says with a sharp smile and you quickly nod, too afraid to do anything else than obey.

But as you keep your eyes locked onto his burning vermillion ones, feeling yourself as if you’re sinking into a sea of boiling blood, Cazador’s thrusts gain even more power behind them, making the bed creak even though you’re the only one upon it. He rocks against you again and again, his cock reaching deep, especially because of the angle he has you at and you moan with his every push that feels both uncomfortable and so welcome at the same time.

“Louder! I want to hear you!” Cazador demands and unwilling to trust your competence even in this, he slams into you with such force that you cry out with a whimper. The collar and the leash keep you in place, leaning on your elbow and gripping the sheets while the vampire seems to fuck entirety of his rage into you. “Again!” Another command and another deep slam that brings tears to your eyes.

You’re not sure how deep he is inside of you, but every time he does this, for a single moment the pain is so intense that it makes your head swim. Yet the pleasure that comes afterwards is so much sweeter and so you gasp for air, watching Cazador’s face, his eyes, and feel yourself sweat in the muggy heat of this summer night. Your nightgown clings to your skin, becoming a crumpled, damp mess over your body, but that’s the least thing you’re paying attention to right now.

Another harsh thrust, almost every one of them being of force and precision, making your eyes water until tears mar your cheeks in salty streaks. This satisfies Cazador, because he smirks and tugs on your leash harder, leaning into you all while his hips piston into you without a pause. Your toes curl, your legs tremble, your spine tenses underneath the muscles and you gasp for air right against his lips when he descends upon you. “You belong to me.” He whispers, but before he’s able to lean back, you grip the back of his neck and pull yourself upwards just enough to crash your lips against Cazador’s.

The vampire does not push you away. He kisses you back deeply and roughly. His fangs do not feel strange anymore when your tongue runs over them and he groans into your mouth before breaking away and ramming into you even harder, which you didn’t think was even possible. He’s chasing the climax but you might be ahead of him, because you’re still tasting his tongue on yours and that sends a shudder that sinks deep into the core of you.

“Wait, I’m-“ You try to make him slow down, you don’t want to come just yet, finding yourself insatiable to the rough fucking you’re getting administered, but Cazador does not listen and even if he does, he clearly does not care.

Pounding into you with almost everything he has, the vampire pulls your leash roughly and watches his cock drive into you repeatedly. You’re so wet that your thighs are smeared in it, together with his loins, and the sounds of skin against skin are the only music that accompanies your cries of pleasure and his groans of effort.

Sneering as he feels his bliss quickly approaching, Cazador doesn’t even bother to check how you are fairing the sweet assault that will leave you utterly ravished once he’s done with you. Nails dig into your leg when the vampire feels tension in his loins that he can’t and won’t postpone anymore. With a strained grunt Cazador delivers one more hard thrust, letting the few that follow lose their rhythmic pace as he spills himself deep within you. Gasping for air, he focuses on his own pleasure alone, not seeing just how close you are.

When Cazador’s thrusts become erratic, you are almost there and you feel him filling you with his seed that is cold but not uncomfortably so. Not that you’re paying any real attention that, enveloped in the orgasm that begins to overtake you. When the vampire’s thrusts become to lose their pace and start to slow, as an act of last attempt not to be cheated out of satisfaction, you reach down and rub your clit fast and precise, knowing exactly what you like and how. You gasp and Cazador groans when your body clenches around him at the renewed intensity of pleasure.

“What are you-“ He groans, but then sees what you’re doing and scoffs with a smirk when your eyes meet again. He sees the desperation in your expression and stops completely, letting you come onto his cock while he does nothing to help you with your climax.

But it comes and it comes fast. Your visions swims just for a second and despite the leash you throw your head back with a cry. You tense and shiver, tremble and moan again, circling your clit until it’s throbbing and too painful for touch. Only then you move your hand away, after the last few shakes that run through your body, and try to lie into the bed. To your surprise, the leash relaxes and you’re able to do just that.

Panting and gasping for air, you look at Cazador who stands still for a moment, then lowers your leg. When he pulls out there’s a quiet squelching sound that would embarrass you if you weren’t so utterly spent. You watch the vampire climb into the bed, crawl over you and you look at him, dazed and exhausted, not even able to speak.

“Lord Cazador.” Is all you manage and Cazador smiles the kind of smile that is full of promise.

Without saying a word, he lays upon you, pressing you deep into the mattress at which you huff, still unable to breathe properly, and your hands grip at his sides in a weak attempt to push him off. When Cazador’s lips find your neck, you think he wants more, to continue fucking you until you forget your own name and you’re about to protest, beg for more time to recover and catch your breath, but then pain startles you.

Your eyes widen, air gets stuck in your throat and you understand what he is doing. You can feel him draining your blood, can hear him swallowing mouthfuls of it and you try to push him away again, but strength is leaving you faster than you could recover.

“Please…” One last desperate plea as you stare into the dark ceiling of your room and feel your hands being grabbed at and pinned overhead by the wrists, taunt, not unlike the leash that’s been around your neck this entire time.

When inky blackness begins to surround edges of your vision, Cazador pulls back and glowing embers of his eyes meet yours. He sees your blood trickling down your neck and seep onto the neck of your white nightgown. The sight pleases him. Licking the blood from his lips, he smiles, hauntingly gently.

“You are mine, forever.”

──────────────────────────────────────────

𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖

Norona’s trip took longer than expected. About a week, six days to be exact. By the time she returned to Baldur’s Gate, wondering what her friend has been up to, she discovered the entire city buzzing about a ball happening that very night in your mansion.

She asked people around, wanting to hear the gossip but not much has been heard besides some obscure rumors and that you might announce an engagement during the ball. Wondering who you chose and why so soon, when last time she spoke to you about betrothal you didn’t seem too eager to settle just yet, Norona decided to figure out what is happening right away. Yet to her surprise, she wasn’t let in. Hired guards protected the front gate and told her that Lady of the House has not permitted entrance to anyone until the evening.

Walking around the mansion, Norona managed to get glimpses of servants scuttling around and the open window of your bedroom, but the curtains behind were drawn and so she decided not to call upon you. Instead, the priestess decided to wait until evening and lingered in a nearby tavern until the time came of which people spoke as a start of your celebration.

Norona does not own many fancy dresses and when she dresses in a purple, simple summer dress, the woman wonders if she will even be let in, considering how grim the guards looked earlier today. But her fears don’t come to pass when she approaches the widely open door and not the guards, but two servants in elegant clothing greet her and invite her with wide smiles.

Torches and candles are everywhere and Norona has never seen your home so full of light before. Last rays of dusk look bleak in comparison to the beauty of the arranged illumination that she sees around her. Taking tentative steps she navigates the crowd that seems to be filling every room and every corridor of the mansion. Everyone is chatting, drinking, sharing jokes. Expensive ensembles adorn the men and women look like decorated statues in their gowns of every color on the spectrum. Gems and beads glitter all around and Norona finds herself out of place, just as she always felt when in your company when growing up.

Yet she struggles to find you in the crowd and when a passing maid informs her that the Lady of the House can be found in the ballroom, that’s exactly where Norona heads. It takes her longer than she hoped, her anxiety making her impatient. She just wants to make sure that you’re okay, that you’re happy, but that strange feeling she felt in her gut before she left returns tenfold.

The door to the ballroom is open and she hears music emanating from within. It’s a piece she has never heard before, strong and imposing in how the melody is carried by stringed instruments. It makes Norona feel a strange chill in the choking heat that the mansion is packed with.

Apologizing to the guests through which she squeezes on her path deeper into the room, she finally stumbles out into the dance floor. First, Norona notices the dancing couples. They spin and smile and laugh, relishing the festivities without restraints. There are sounds of crystal being brought together and people cheer with their glasses, but when the couples part, Norona finally sees you and she inhales in shock.

Norona did expect you to wear the dress that you have been gifted. The beauty of crimson now makes you look like a dark goddess who stepped among the mortals. You’re not smiling, that much is clear even from where the half-elf is standing, but then she notices a hand on your shoulder and finally she realizes that her friend is not observing the ballroom alone.

Behind you, Norona sees a tall man. His black hair is combed back and he wears a black suit with red embellishments that look bloody in the light of candles. He stands straight, attentive to seemingly everything that is happening in the room, until his gaze lands on the priestess and feels like a punch. She staggers slightly, feeling her heart beginning to beat faster with fear that runs icy fingers over her insides.

At first the man doesn’t move at all, but after a moment, when Norona begins to gasp for air, he leans to your ear and whispers something that is impossible to hear from this distance and the music that drowns out almost everything. When the man whispers, Norona looks at you, to your focused face and then the lace neckband that you wear. It glimmers with jewels when you turn ever so slightly to hear him better.

Norona wants to say something, shout something. There’s fear she cannot explain beyond utter and complete understanding that the man shouldn’t touch you, shouldn’t be near you. Yet her feet do not move, her lungs can’t draw enough breath for her to scream. She stands, helpless, and watches something red and uncomfortably looking like blood drip in two swollen drops from beneath the choker and slip down to your collarbone.

She looks at the man again and he meets Norona’s eyes with his intense gaze, but what’s more disturbing is a smile that now appears on your face – predatory and almost vicious. She doesn’t recognize you for a second, thinking it’s some sort of foul illusion. But no, there you are, her friend, so familiar and yet so unrecognizable at the same time. The elven man’s hand slips from your shoulder while Norona watches with growing despair and wraps around your neck in a gesture that can only be read as possessive.

When the priestess looks at him again, the man’s face slowly blooms with a haunting, merciless smile.

(𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕒𝕝) 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: So, where to begin? I'll start by saying that to some this one shot might ring strangely familiar and if so - you will be correct. I always wanted to write a love letter type of fic to one and only Bram Stoker. And so, I have taken a chance to do exactly that here. Granted, this is a combination of both "Dracula" and "Bram Stoker's Dracula", the 1992 movie that is among my favorite. Naturally, I didn't do the copy-paste of scenes, but almost every one of them is loosely based either on the book or the movie, whichever gripped my fancy.

The title itself, 13th of August, comes from the book. It's the date in Mina's diary that first mentions Dracula in his bat form and so, this significant entry has become the title of the fic. I was always the one to say that Cazador is Dracula (and Starhd) coded and I guess this is my essay on that, a creative one. I hope you enjoyed the story, I have enjoyed writing it and sharing it with all of you <333

[southparkhcsocs]

The boys with a new baby I feel like this would be adorable as a drawing😭

Stan Marsh

crying

constantly

it's would be annoying if he was avoidant

but no

he LOVE's his baby

and will JUMP at the opportunity to hold them

DON'T TELL HIM HE MISSED A FIRST

NOOOO HE'S SO SAD

even if you recorded it

he missed it and feels terrible

Kyle Broflovski

good dad tm

a solid dad

will record everything

gonna do one of those "dad took photo of child everyday until 18"

will get up to deal with night fussing

reaallly doesn't like dirty baby

will have wipes in handy for every mess

also does intense research about the best, non-toxic, baby products

baby proofed to the max yo

Kenny McCormick

Kenny is great with kids

will start smoking outside

loves showing off his kid

defo gonna put stupid things on the childs head

matching outfits

first thing he buys is a tiny orange parka

Eric Cartman

obsessed

does all the fun stuff

will play, try to make the baby laugh

baby pooped?

"your kid shit his self."

don't expect him to get up in the night are you crazy???

bro need's his beauty sleep

say's he only wants a boy

but omg if he had a girl?!

soz you are FORGOTTEN

THERE IS ANOTHER MORE IMPORTANT LADY IN HIS LIFE NOW!!

[phylliecheesesteak]

Octonauts AU-All together now! 

Basically this is an AU where all of the octonauts and octo-agents live together in the Reef Base H.Q. The Reef Base H.Q. was shown in episode 21 of season 4-Octonauts: Above and Beyond. 

Pt. 1-Quartering

Everyone is split into 6 quartering rooms known as bunkers. The bunkers include four beds and a ten by twelve space between each bed, and each space is separated by a thin, sliding wall. These walls are thin, but insulate about as well as the average wall, because on the RBHQ, the normal walls are about 10 inches thick. In between the walls is about a 3 foot gap for space and ability to leave the bunker, as it makes a hallway in the middle. Each bunker has two bathrooms including showers and toilets, a storage closet, a name, and houses about 4 people. The walls have replaceable tiles, meaning the resident can choose any color wall tiles they want for their corner. The floors are hardwood. Any differences are stated in the bunker's description, and all bunkers are listed below.

---

The Captains' Bunker

Includes:

Capt. Barnacles

C/M Kwazii

2/O Tweak

2/O Dashi

This bunker is designed differently than the others. It's split into two parts-the lower deck, on the same level as all other bunkers, and the upper deck, separated by three stairs. On the lower deck, Tweak sleeps on the left side and Dashi sleeps on the right. On the upper deck, Capt. Barnacles takes the left side and Kwazii takes the right. Barnacles and Kwazii get the upper deck because they have the official titles of Captain (Capt) and First Mate (C/M). Tweak and Dashi have the official titles of Engineer and IT Officer respectively, but they both have the title of Second Mate (2/O), hence why they are in the Captains' Bunker. The bathrooms are more spacious in this bunker.

The Seniors' Bunker

Includes:

Prof. Natquik

Prof. Inkling

RGR Marsh

Pir. Calico Jack

The Seniors' Bunker is missing one bed, and that's because Inkling doesn't sleep in a bed-he prefers a chair. Inkling is in the bottom left corner, Natquik is in the top left corner, Calico Jack is in the top right corner, and Marsh is in the bottom right corner. It's miserable, because since Calico's been alone on conquests for so many years, he's forgotten he snores really fucking loudly. And all three others in the room have sensitive hearing. Exhibit A: Calico Jack: *Peacefully snoring*

Prof. Natquik: "..I'm going to shove a shoe down his throat."

Ranger Marsh: "Please do.."

Prof. Inkling: "Perhaps investing in earplugs would be a better solution?" 

Prof. Natquik: “I can’t wear earplugs! I need to hear any possible noise around me."

Prof. Inkling: "You're almost more paranoid than our favorite snorer over there." He points to Calico Jack, who is still blissfully unaware that the people next to him are about to give him a DIY lobotomy.

The Vegimals' Bunker

Includes:

Tunip

Grouber

Barrot

Codish

Halibeet

Sharchini

Tominnow

Pikato

The Vegimals' Bunker does not have slide out walls. They all worked together with Shellington to decorate the walls with a pastel rainbow scheme. This bunker has 8 small beds, and they have two extra bathrooms because they have double the residents. Tunip has caught his siblings multiple times in their shenanigans in the middle of the night, but can’t really stop them all.

The Juniors' Bunker

Includes:

Bud

Koshi

Pinto

Periwinkle

Bud is basically the babysitter for Periwinkle, because Periwinkle is a baby and Bud is the most responsible one in the room, being the oldest. There are two beds in the storage closet of this room for when Ursa and Olson come to the RBHQ. Occasionally, older members come in to take care of/hang out with younger members.

Unnamed Bunkers

these are the two bunkers I couldn’t decide on names for. Help me out guys :(

Bunker 1

Peso

Shellington

Paani

Tracker

Bunker 2

Pearl

Min

Ryla

Selva

I really like this idea, so add onto it freely! Make headcanons, draw comics, have fun!

[mr-midnight-musician]

More Information About The Musician

Malachi Arnold Marsh

Age: 14

Ethnicity: Irish/Polish

Nationality: American

Height: 5'7 (170.18 cm)

Positive Traits: kind, very friendly, incredibly adventurous, very loyal, empathetic, very hard working, protective over his loved ones, reliable, listens when you need him and charismatic

Negative Traits: overly idealistic, avoidant, procrastinates, a huge overthinker and very self-critical

Hobbies: writing music, drawing, singing, danceing, bike riding around the neighborhood and hanging with his sister and friends

Music Taste: Billie Joel, New Kids On The Block, Duran Duran and Bon Jovi

Fear: Thanatophobia

Popularity: He's actually very well liked by the girls, at least. Some of the boys in school are extremely jealous of him. This is mostly thanks to his music career and him being famous.

Relationship With The Other Characters:

Family:

His Parents: He had an amazing relationship with his parents. He misses them all the time

Beverly Marsh: She is his only living blood family besides Marcella. He cares for her deeply and is a little overprotective of her.

Alvin Marsh: He fucking hates him for obvious reasons.

Marcella Gates: He loves her but isn't a fan of who she surrounds herself with

The Losers Club

Ben Hanscom: He likes him alot. The boy is kind and treats Beverly like a queen. Mal thinks he's a perfect match for his sister.

Bill Denbrough: They don't talk much but are mutual friends. Mal loves his storys and hopes he follows his dream of becoming an author.

Richie Toizer: Malachi and Richie don’t always get along, Richie’s mouth gets on his nerves alot but he dose admire his humor and loyalty to his friends

Eddie Kaspbrak: Malachi sees Eddie as someone he wants to protect not because he's weaker then the others but because he wants to open the boys eyes and make him realize that he can't be afraid of everything in life. He's a big brother figure to Eddie.

Mike Hanlon: They get along amazingly well and are good friends.

Stanley Uris: Malachi doesn’t hang with Stan much, but they understand each other and get along very well

Side Characters And Oc's

Mrs Kaspbrak: he dose not like this women at all and for good reasons. He feels like she is teaching her son to be afraid of everything and is just way to overprotective for no reason not to mention she basically $lut shamed his sister numerous times. So Yeah not a fan.

Officer Bowers: Hates him

Greta Keene: He hates her. She's his ex and made his life hell after they broke up.

Alex Criss: Thinks she's a nice girl but dosnt really know her well enough to see her as a friend more then a classmate.

Mari Hockstetter: Absolutely adores her. He thinks shes very kind and just a fun person to hang around.

Fulton Hawthorne: the two were on the same hockey team when they were little so they know eachother.

[dyrwoods]

i finally finished dos2.... thoughts ft. drawings + choice playthrough phone notes (spoilers obv)

my godwoken was an elf witch named allegory. he ended up as a necromancer/hydrosophist combo. blood damage + healing was a fun mix! odd contrasts <3

his backstory, 2 me, is that he was lost in a marshland as a little kid, and tir-cendelius saw the chance to keep him isolated (seeing off any potential rescuers, magically expanding the marshes every time he tried to trek out and leading him in circles) + raise the perfect tiny loyal godwoken for when The Time was Right. he let him out when he was an elf teen. t-c should have kept him longer because if anything it just made him weirder when he got reintegrated into society a couple decades later. F

what if your god grew you in a petri dish to [major game spoilers, redacted]. but you were a capricious little know it all with a jester's soul. what then

gorry took sebille, fane and ifan with him because i thought he would assemble a team of hot emos if given chance. this paid off + i love them all dearly

i wasn't expecting the origin characters i didn't take with me after act 1 to UP AND DIE. but it actually added a really good set of stakes. responsibility for ur actions. lohse yelled at me for leaving her to her fate and i felt SO bad. sorry miss thing

LOVED the worldbuilding....i was super familiar with 5e before i played bg3 so i sort of knew what was coming most of the time but for divinity i had to LEARN. super fun. 100% recommend

also i thought bg3 went in on the body horror but divinity was Something Else.

^ and then larian said okay that was fun what if we do it again. and made bg3. anyway

i was hideously bad at combat for ages until i listened to all the people on reddit chanting 'put points in warfare' and then it was much much much more doable lol

ngl i actually very much prefer dos2 to bg3. i loved loved loved bg3 but after like 4 playthroughs during various patch stages it was such a relief to play a game that's actually completed and won't eat my laptop for breakfast!!! first two bg3 files i had i couldn't make it to the lower city because the optimization on mac was so diabolical that it wouldn't actually play until after patch 5. dos2 lets me also have photoshop on my computer. and files that aren't bg related. miraculous

but even ignoring technical issues: from a story and world standpoint dos2 felt way more expansive and inventive. campy but also harrowing in a way that bg3 just didn't hit for me. i also genuinely enjoy being given a zillion pieces of almost overwhelming info and then sorting it out so i am biased. may expand on this at a later point and not under a mile long read more. moving on

romanced fane bc i loved his voice acting and i thought the culturally cannibalistic elf/the one guy with no flesh to eat bit was funny. jokes on me i fell in DEEP. u canonically have disappointing sex because hes simply made of bones without nerves and afterwards he takes notes. he calls u dear heart offhandedly in act 1 like it's nothing then goes right back to being aloof. how many more times does he have to tell you? he has business in the blackpits. he spends the whole game having an increasingly worse time. he's a loser. it's all his fault. he got me. he got me good. god damn

my game glitched (?) and even tho he rejected sebille (sorry baby) her and allegory still made out right before the big final choice. no option not to. then he had the expected epilogue with fane. poly ending canon enough for me!

also the music was bonkers good and the audio direction in that one battle in the final act? mwah. and dallis' va knocked it out of the entire park.

last thing here's a gorry i drew when i was still back in act 1. 180 hours ago. titled on my phone as 'praying at every altar so i always come out on top'

anyway if u made it this far: thank u. go get divinity: original sin 2 when it's next on sale. wise wise wise choice of £6.99 <3

[willowisapillow]

🪠👑 I'M GONNA LOVE YOU 'TILL THE VERY END 👑🪠

FIRST TIME DRAWING GERALD YAYA 🎉🎉🎉

Hey, paisanos. Third time crossing over South Park with Mario, and just now realizing while digitizing the pic that this is the third time I’ve dressed Sharon up as a princess character :P

Fun fact, I was gonna post this back in March for Mar10 Day, but missed the deadline. But then I remembered the 1st year anniversary for the Super Mario Bros. Movie was about to come up soon and decided to save it for when that time rolls around, but my absent-minded and lazy ass missed the deadline once again. At first I felt like scrapping the whole project all-together but I realized that it still has potential to get finished, so I waited until August (AKA Princess Peach Month) finally arrived, and look where we are now. So just call this a very very very belated Mar10 Day and 1 year SMBM celebration.

There was also a super adorable Mario Marsh and Peach Testaburger fanart I found on DA that motivated me to go forward. At this point, I’m just compelled to draw anything that I’m inspired/motivated by on whatever part of the internet I’m going through lmao

Originally I was gonna have Liane as Peach and Cartman as Mario, but went on to have Sharon and Randy as Peach and Mario instead. I feel like she would suit being Rosa more since they’re both soft-spoken and single mamas who wear blue. At first I was gonna draw all of them as the movie versions, but instead dressed them up in the DiC/Super Show versions. I just felt like it suited them more both appearance and personality wise. Also because I have a huge soft spot for the retro designs, and I’ve been binge-watching the Super Show last week.

As stupid as this sounds, when you think about it, Randy and Mario do kinda have some stuff in common. Both have iconic mustaches, dad bods, have blue as part of their main outfit, have crossdressed, are fashion icons, and they’ve been arrested/imprisoned 🥰

Sharon and Peach don’t have too much in common, but they’re both as fashionable as their sweethearts, are good cooks, friendly, are able to stand their ground, but often end up in shenanigans. As for Gerald and Luigi, the only similarities I see them having are mustaches, hats, and green as part of their main outfits. That’s pretty much it. I just love all these characters sm, and this gave me an excuse to finally draw some Mareach art ❤️💖

And after listening to Peaches for the umpteenth time while sketching, part of me really wants a Trey Parker version of the song. Mans worked on and made a song for Despicable Me 3, so he could definitely pull up to Illumination to make another song for their movie 💀

Original Princess Liane Sketch:

🪠 ❤️ 👑 💖

[behrjbehr]

Idk anything about dark tides like. at all but I, a proud (not really) Melbournite see any mention of my horrid state and I have to poke my nose in ("cool artist that shows up on the dash sometimes is Aussie, massive win" <- the hit headline)

Anyway feel free to use this ask as an excuse to talk about DT? As I said I know nothing about it (barely heard of it before) so. Might be fun for all I know :3

Hello fellow Australian!

I will in fact use this as an excuse to talk about my favourite podcast hehe :3

Also Thankyou 😭 I’m just a guy that likes drawing

Dark tides is a ttrpg style podcast made by a group of Australians down in Sydney. Its ‘mostly’ set on a made up island off the coast of WA and follows Ernest Marsh who is there to be hired as a park ranger and his new best friend Alister Stern, the local emo.

It’s got a balance of silly, horror and found family. Season 1 follows them trying to solve a series of missing people, gnomes, giant bird things and a cult

My favourite character is named Heath, he’s a fae touched guy in s2 (plus prequel). I love him sm.

I highly recommend it. If your into more intense horror they aren’t really that sort of thing but do have one or two VERY intense parts

(My sillies RAHH)

I’d talk more but I am trying so hard not to spoil too much, other then my ranting I put here, if you do check it out.

[clarktooncrossing]

DUMPSTER DUDELZ III: Revenge of the Dumpster

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW!

IT'S ME, CLARK!

Happy New Year, weirdos of the world! The last year might've been a mixed bag in most regards, but in terms of artwork I was riding a creative high. Like, holy crap, the amount of artwork posted is surprising. You better believe the goal is to keep that streak going well into 2025. What better way to start then looking back on what didn't make the cut in 2024? By now showcasing my leftover sketches in these compilations has become sortuv' a regular tradition. Not that you'll ever hear me complain about it. I hate seeing artwork go unused, plus it's fun seeing how my skills have improved over the last twelve months. So what awaits us in the dumpster?

(1) ABBY K. DABBY

Y'ever wonder why rabbits are considered sexy? Lola Bunny, Jessica Rabbit, Judy Hoppes, even Playboy loves dressing their models up as the small critters. Why is that? It was while pondering this, looking up artwork of Zatanna, and watching clips of Penn & Teller: Fool Us that this feisty sorceress came into mind. Meet Abby K. Dabby, the resident magical mistress of the Clarktooniverse. At the moment there's nothing there outside of a cool design, though my plan is to further fill out her backstory so she's more than just eye candy with a quirky name.

(2) BLOOD ON THE SADDLE

Disney fans everywhere rejoiced when Disney finally renovated the beloved Country Bear Jamboree in Orlando. Less so when the show finally opened and prioritized shoving tracks from the company's library down our ears in favor of maintaining the oddball humor the show's known for. Personally I just counted my blessings, especially considering the fates of Dinosaur and Muppet Vision 3*D. You could say D23 was a real disappointment. At the very least, I thought Big Al singing "Remember Me" from Coco was funny as ever. Oh Al, you are truly the bluest bear we've ever met. Never change, buddy!

(3) ROSIE STARDUST

This was quickly sketches after looking at a commission done by @zernna. Like a lot of my characters, Rosie looks better when drawn by somebody else. Regardless, the cosmic cutie is always fun to draw.

(4) JACKIE'S WARDROBE

Speaking of commissions, my buddy @burningthrucelluloid commissioned me to create a sweet picture featuring his two space characters, cosmonaut Jackie Valentine and wasp princess Exa. He left it up to me what the former should wear, thus several options were offered. The three presented here include the heroine's regular spacesuit, a sexy pair of space undies, and something more akin to what she wore before leaving Earth. In the end we decided on something fancier to better fit the romantic mood. Anybody interested in checking out the final result can click here.

(5) FREDDYS OF DIFFERENT LANDS

Along with Abby, Freddy Fox's walk through Whimsyland is the result of a failed Sketch BOOM. Or more specifically, one that never got finished. It could easily be finished now since nothing went wrong with its production. Still, I'd prefer just to scrap it and move on. Not without saving what's already been completed first. This depicts the theme park's mascot walking through each land with an appropriate attire to match. From left to right we have classic Freddy walking down Whimsy Warf, crossing into Cowboy Country, jaunting towards Jungle Junction, frolicking through Fantasy Forest, making his way into Monster Marsh, and finally trotting through Tomorrow Town. It's the last outfit I'm particularly proud of, calling back to the campier costumes parading through other parks. Let's hope a trip to Whimsyland is in our foreseeable future.

(6) AN-D SHARK (DOO DOO DA DOO DA DOO)

In case you missed yesterday's post, a Secret Santa was held on my Discord server this year and I got Void-Android Anybody doubting his present wasn't drawn by hand can now kiss dirt and eat my rubber! They can also check out the final product by clicking here.

(7) BAT BARNEY

@princessofDisney27 wanted me to check out Waiting for Santa was a part of this year's Christmas Specials Special. Obviously that review didn't get finished in time. That's a story for another time. For now, Hannah unlocked my purple-tinted nostalgia before sending me down a rabbit hole of odd finds on YouTube. Learning who Bob West and David Joyner were, seeing the dino rock an epic drum solo whenever not purse snatching, watching the theatrical movie a thousand times over, that tyrannosaur from Texas found a way back into my heart. It's the only explanation I have for this. Why Batman? Blame Barney, he encouraged my weird-ass imagination.

(8) HELP WANTED

Many tough decisions were made this year. Cutting 3K was one of them. The story of ERN-E and the Knights of the Square Table never came together quite the way I had hoped. So now the plan is to work certain elements into other stories. As we've established, throwing away ideas isn't my cup'a tea. Especially not when Candy Banger's ready to shoot me if she's not given a new job. Rest assured folks, this won't be the last you see of this android assassin.

(9) SO, NO HONEY?

Did you know that Popeye and Tintin enter the Public Domain this year? Along with several other Mickey Mouse shorts? Can't wait to see them all be turned into horror media produced by lazy douchebags. Yes, we get it, the joke is seeing these family friendly franchises going dark and disturbed. If we pretend it's funny will you stop telling the same, unoriginal joke? Regardless, I decided it'd be fun to include A.A. Milne's cast of beloved characters for Whimsyland as a nice parallel to certain other theme parks. Their colored sketch actually debuted earlier this year on my deviantART account. Hopefully you all love'm in black and white too. And here's hoping something more creative is made with these characters other than trashy slasher flicks.

(10) STEAMBOAT WILLIE

Did you know that Mickey and Minnie Mouse entered the Public Domain last year? Of course you did! You couldn't go anywhere without hearing about it, no doubt to Disney's dismay. Granted, it was only these characters as they appeared in Steamboat Willie, Plane Crazy, and Gallopin Gaucho, but this was still big news in the world of animation. No longer could Mickey be locked away in the vault. Anybody was allowed to use the rodent as they see fit. Immediately I wondered what a Clarktoon version of him would look like. Designs are still being worked out, but as you can see, some liberties have been taken.

(11) TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART

Hey, anybody remember that eclipse that happened earlier this year? Wild times. Rosie certainly remembers it. This was the sketch that eventually became this picture:

(12) SUPER-DEE-DOOPER

Back in my early years, Barney was all I bothered drawing. Or at least what could charitably be considered a crude approximation of the character. Honestly, he looked more like a stop sign wedged into the top of a potato. Gimme a break, I had yet to refine my artistic skills. Years later it was decided to see if my skills really had improved at all. The results more than speak for themselves. Although Little Clark is a lot taller than he ott'a be. Gimme a break, this was drawn at 2 AM while watching Expedition Theme Park's video on the Universal stage show. For the record, that show would've been the only reason Little Clark would've preferred a trip to that park over Disney World. Nothing you tell me could convince me that wouldn't have been the greatest hug of all time!

(13) TEENAGE MUTANT FREELANCE POLICE

deviantART making dumbass decisions? Stop the presses! By now I think it's safe to say we've become accustomed to the media sharing site changing things for the worse. This includes removing sta.sh from the platform. It was a convenient place to store your art until it was time for posting. My Studio isn't terrible, but it pales in comparison to its predecessor. At least it's not frustratingly redundant like the updated messaging system. Nope, still not over that. Still, seeing as sta.sh was about to get the ax, I elected to remove any artwork still lingering there. Included was this sketch from 2014 featuring a Ninja Turtle from the original Mirage comics meeting Sam and Max of the Freelance Police. You could say it was oddly fitting considering both started out as independent books with odd senses of humor. Though it's up to you to decide who's crazier; a Mirage Turtle or Max?

(14) SANTA'S BUDDY, THE ICE CREAM BUNNY

Suddenly, a siren starts to wail! And you'll never guess who's coming down the trail! Or will you? Meet the Ice Cream Bunny, star of 1972's Santa Claus and the Ice Cream Bunny. It's a hilariously awful Holiday feature filmed at the defunct Pirate's World theme park, a precursor to Walt Disney World. Many factors led to its downfall, one of them being pictures produced on the cheap at their property. This is made especially evident by the lackluster costume made for the titular rabbit. Most folks find him incredibly creepy. I am not most folks, then again clowns don't scare me out either. People are weird. Oddities like that aside, here's my attempt at making the character cute. Why not? He's also public domain! How else would you explain all the times Rifftrax tore this movie apart?

(15) EASTER BUMPER

Less creepy are the lagomorphs surrounding Bumper. @foxhatart has tried convincing me to sell Bumper stickers before and this was my attempt at making them. Granted this sketch is still useable, but like the aforementioned BOOM, it's better to start fresh. Still, you lot would kill me if something this cute went to waste.

(16) WANDA ZIGGY

Meet Wanda, wife to alien grease monkey and Clarksburg's resident cinephile, Wonder Ziggy. His design was based on Robot Monster from the similarly named movie. Wanda was based on Virginia Leith as she appeared in The Brain That Wouldn't Die. Originally my exposure to this movie came in the form of the Whose Line game Film Dub, where the cast basically pulls an MST3K by providing their own commentary over footage of public domain B-Movies. Never mess with a winning formula, folks. Even back then, the image of this hauntingly gorgeous woman's head kept alive on a mad scientist's table stuck with me. All of that was before I discovered the bonkers plot of the movie. In this story, the head doesn't die, Ziggy saving her and the two sparking a romance. She comes off as cold and detached only because of how her last marriage handled her. Really she loves Ziggy and is just laser focused. Fingers crossed I can do a full-fledged color picture of the oddball couple soon.

(17) BUMPER & BUTTERFLIES

Yet another remnant from a failed Sketch BOOM, albeit a different one. There's not really much to say here, it's simply another excuse for Bumper to look cute.

(18) WONDER ZIGGY & PIZZA MONSTER

Speaking of Wonder Ziggy, here he is alongside the always hungry Pizza Monster. Made these with the intention to use'm for something Christmas relayed. Obviously that didn't happen. Both ended up looking better than expected, so expect to see them again in the future.

(19) THE ORIGINAL XENA

Turns out 2024 marked a major milestone in the Clarktooniverse. Around ten years ago, I decided to finally check out the Alien franchise. Like most things horror, exposure began slowly by first checking out Markiplier's playthrough of Isolation. Seeing how passionate he was for this freaky franchise led me to finally watching the movies, the first two being excellent masterpieces rightfully loved by audiences. We don't have to discuss the sequels. Point is, my obsession with xenomorphs quickly grew. For some reason I wondered what would happen if my best buddy Crocie came into contact with one. Cue this crude sketch of a xenodile which eventually became the basis for Xena. Yes folks, Croc's daughter turned 10 last year. Happy birthday, kiddo! Here's to 10 more years of absurd adventures!

(20) MALEFIDOT

I know you, I waltzed with you once upon a dream. Or rather, once upon an absurd suggestion by @burningthrucelluloid. Couldn't tell you how exactly this idea came to be, other than it combines my favorite character from Steven Universe with my favorite Disney villain. Like I said; weird-ass imagination. XD

(21) CONFUSED COW

No doubt this was the look on Jim Cummings's face when Mr-Herp-Derp asked him to sign my Supercow pic at Comic Con this year.

(22) APES TOGETHER STRONG

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes was all my mind could focus on back in 2014. Rise was already a fantastic film when its sequel surpassed every expectation. And then some! The fact that Andy Serkis was never nominated for an Oscar is a sign that humanity really is screwed. If nothing else, it's leagues better than this year's Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, which felt like a soulless retread of themes found in prior entries. Still, I'm not here to bash on newer sequels. For now this was yet another drawing from 19 year old Clark rescued from sta.sh.

(23) TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA BUMPER

Ninja Turtles turned 40 last year. By now it's safe to say their teenage years are long gone. My wish was to draw some spectacular piece celebrating the occasion. This was the closest I got. Ah well, maybe when the Turtles are 50.

(24) ZOMBEAGLE

Rounding things out is this psychotic pooch plush toy for a yuletide one shot held during December. Years of Alec badgering me to give Dungeon Mastering a try, I set up a short seasonal story loosely based on Jingle All the Way for my friends. On the final week before Christmas, everybody and their grandmother is out looking for the Holiday's hottest toy, Zombeagle. Whiny parents forced it's recall back in the 90s before vit became viral on ClockFace. Now our players must fight to see who leaves Barney's Toy Box with their prize. Said players include Alec as the cyborg goblin Vrellunk, @Foxhatart playing her ponysona Autumn Scribble, @JetProject portraying the multiversal menace Pic Shell, @Mr-Herp-Derp dealing damage as the hyper-evolved dino Stokes, and @princessofDisney27 thinking outside the box with her magical princess turned mother Heather Heartland. In the end, Fox won the battle but Hannah left with the toy. All got a happy ending, myself included. Plans are already set out for a sequel and a full-length campaign, though that's a discussion for later this year...

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

BlueSky || Cara || deviantART || tumblr

[ask-missparker]

"I'm so sick of that same old love" - Same Old Love 💋

Introduction & Facts

Amelia Parker, daughter of May Parker and my cousin is Peter Parker!

I’m the youngest agent of SHIELD there is at the moment ;)

Nieces of Mister Lance Hunter & Miss Barbara "Bobbi" Morse

Agent Phil Coulson first child (his other daughters come later)

The Avengers & Young Avengers are my friends

I love music, sewing, drawing and coffee

Oh yea I’m a nerd!!

— xxx —

Rules

Be nice to people on this site (I have been here before!)

You can ask me things if you want and reblog my stuff of course (no worries there)

Don’t be surprised if I ghost you people for a while I get busy

Have fun!

———

Currently listening to!

———

Tags: @msrochelleromanofffelton @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @mallowbee4 @luna-d-marsh @sherloquestea @rooster-84 and etc

[iffoundreturntosea]

January 12, Day 12

Day 12 2015

Time well spent.

#picoftheday #niece #movietime #thegreatmousedetective #disney #lovemyniece #lovebeingauntcece #love #project365 #day12

Any time spent with family is time well spent.

Day 12 2016

Day 2 in Jamaica

#jamaica #beach #water #palm #sand #beautiful #heaven #love #familyfun #winter #january #blue #bluewater #shadesofblue #picoftheday #project365 #day12

I wish I could walk right through my screen onto this beach.

Day 12 2017

The elusive circle

#fullmoon #moon #clouds #windy #challenge #sky #circle #circleoflife #january #picoftheday #project365 #day12

Day 12 2018

I always say Thanksgiving is my favorite time of year and then GS cookie season starts!

#girlscoutcookies #cookies #girlscouts #GS #peanutbuttersandwiches #yum #sogood #whosyourdealer #keyhole #cutout #january #picoftheday #project365 #day12

Day 12 2019

Some of my hopes and dreams

#collage #picsart #hopesanddreams #donkey #leo #cat #octopus #water #marsh #ocean #sea #marinebiology #camera #photogaphy #passion #hobby #nature #visionboardday #january #nationalday #nationaldaycalendar #picoftheday #project365 #day12

I spent so long trying to get back to the ocean that I hadn't noticed that maybe some of my hopes and dreams had changed. Don't get me wrong, I love being back at the beach. I guess I just don't know where to go from here.

Day 12 2020

It's bluetiful! I wish for snow!!

#whereiswinter #ihatetexas #boohoo #makeawish #dandelion #nature #wildflower #macro #clouds #bluesky #blue #bluetiful #punny #color #roygbiv #rainbow #january #january12 #2020 #picoftheday #project365 #day12

I will always wish for snow. HA!

Day 12 2021

You will be missed Clarence Von Errie but it's time to let go.

#snowman #snow #melting #goodbyefriend #texas #winter #lessstressmorefun #whateverthehelliwant #january #january12 #2021 #picoftheday #project365 #day12

Day 12 2022

The puzzle that is life remains unsolved.

#puzzle #dailypuzzle #woodpuzzle #color #neon #grief #art #january #january12 #2022 #picoftheday #project365 #day12

Day 12 2023

I love when I'm able to do something for myself.

#car #brook #empowered #handled #autozone #underthehood #january #january12 #2023 #picoftheday #project365 #day12

Day 12 2024

On the move to another galaxy

#jellyfish #dailytheme #art #create #galaxy #justkeepswimming #color #january #january12 #2024 #picoftheday #project365 #day12

My draw was jellyfish today! It was fun to create something a bit wild today!

[lesbianbernardsumner]

Oh my goodness thank youssooo much, I am very very happy to be involved here.

1. How long have you been a New Order fan?

Active since July of 2022, really, but their music has intrigued me since I was like, four.

2. How many New Order concerts have you been to?

None unfortunately. They have only been to my state once and that was 35 years ago. I am seeing Hooky for the first time in September. I know I’m gonna have a great time and I kinda hate that part of myself.

3. What was your favorite New Order gig?

I really like how pathetic the 2001-2006 ones are. I dunno! I do go back and listen to concerts but none of their eras are perfect enough for me to say I have a favorite. They all have little elements and charms to their specific dates. I’ll stick with saying 511 because of the scream comp.

4. What is your favorite New Order album?

Switches between Sirens’ Call and Music Complete every other day. I know I shouldn’t like Sirens’ Call but I really do!

5. Favorite New Order Song?

It was Dream Attack for a while. I adore Vicious Circle and Hurt and Best & Marsh aaand Unlearn This Hatred and Krafty. So many! I’ll stick with Dream Attack for now.

6. Favorite member of New Order?

Bernard. He’s even my discord username. He’s very fun to draw, especially as he ages. I love how his brain works, yknow. I find his voice calming. (LESBIAN ALERT I LIKE GIRLS!!)

7. Favorite former member of New Order?

What an odd thing to say! Gillian. She’s former and current.

8. How many NO albums do you own?

On CD I have all of them (including comps) except for PCL, Retro and Total. All of them are basic reprints with no bonus tracks, except for Substance. Oh yeah and the only live album I have on CD is Education Entertainment Recreation.

I also have the CD singles for World and Crystal.

On vinyl I’ve got… 1981-1982 (which I don’t think was ever put on CD so I didn’t mention it), PCL, Lowlife, Brotherhood, Substance, Technique, Total and Music Complete. And some singles… Confusion, Perfect Kiss, BLT, Be A Rebel, Krafty… I’m missing a few I’m sure.

On cassette I have the new Substance and Technique.

Also I have a fridge magnet of Republic!

9. Do you own any Joy Division?

The Total vinyl, duh. Also have Substance and Bestof on CD. Substance was briefly stolen.

I wanna get a cd of Closer eventually. My record store promotes it but they never have it in stock! I once saw a slipmat with Ian on it… scary.

10. Least favorite album?

Get Ready and it’s not even close. Genuinely has some of my least favorite songs of all time.

11. Do you have all the side project albums?

Umm… I have all of Electronic’s (my Twisted Tenderness copy is the special edition, Elecelec is an original Warner with both Gangster and Getting Away With It) and both O2 and Never Cry Another Tear. No BMusic or Swing or RevengeMonaco. Last year a record store was selling Revenge’s two singles in the used rack, I really wish I got them for the novelty.

I also have Feel Every Beat’s single on CD. I wish I had more Electronic CD singles cause they’re not on North American streaming. On vinyl I have the record store day 4 remixes Get The Message thing and also the new Get The Message release from September!

12. Which is your favorite side project?

Electronic all the way. Have been listening to RTP as I write this. Funny, it’s just for Bernard. I literally don’t care about anything except Bernard and yet I’m so fixated on Electronic a lot of the time it’s embarrassing. I’m no Johnny Marr fan by any stretch of the word. All I know of him is stuff I learned about Electronic as like, a byproduct.

13. Favorite remix?

Mac Quayle Guilt Is A Useless Emotion and Arthur Baker Jetstream. Sirens’ Call remixes are really the only ones I have actually listened to.

14. Favorite video?

Confusion or Crystal. I don’t think any of their videos are that good those are just the least bad.

15. Favorite cover?

I actively don’t listen to covers. Too scared.

16. Should Hooky rejoin?

God that would be so funny. No.

17. Do you like Barney’s dancing and fav dance move?

I DO it’s so fucking stupid. I like Temptation where he motions “circle” by spinning his hand. Blue Monday and Fine Time usually have him hopping around the stage since he has no guitar. So whimsical! So beautiful and powerful.

18. How many times a day do you listen to NO?

I’ve been on a JD and Electronic kick as of now but on school days it’s at least once. I’ve been trying to listen more when I’m not busy too. So like. Let’s just say every day all the time.

19. Is New Order your favorite band?

Yep. By a long shot. Other bands I was into previously were either too weird or just not my kinda music. As it turns out I like mainstream dance.

20. Should Steve audition for Dr. Who?

He would be terrified. I can’t imagine him acting, so jittery and stuttery.

21. Favorite Barney collaboration?

Other than Electronic, hmm. Miracle Cure was a nice song. I like him in New Order!

Tagging @youngoffender (again.) aaaandddd… er… @cherry-pop-soda and @transfloppa @yurigi I don’t know if you still like new order but I don’t wanna leave you out!

bringing back dis ancient new order thing i fucking guess

1. How long have you been a New Order fan? 4 years, since spring 2020

2. How many New Order concerts have you been to? 0 sadly, but way more ph+l than id like

3. What was your favourite New Order gig? not sure what gig this actually was but my fav live thing of them ever was an egg/temptation segue that was deleted off youtube a while ago

4. What is your fav New Order album? movement and republic rap battle in my head every day

5. Fav New Order song? all day long

6. Favourite Member of New Order? GILLIANNNNN

7. Favourite Former Member of New Order? rob (rip king)

8. How many NO albums do you own? 8 i think

9. Do you own any Joy Division? up and closer

10. Least Favourite album? out of the relevant ones, technique, otherwise fucking wftsc or some shit i guess

11. Do you have all the side project albums? i have all of o2 (+ some extra) and all of monaco

12. Which is your favorite side project? THE OTHER TWO SUPREMACY

13. Favorite remix? i dont listen to many remixes

14. Favorite video? tbthog (true faith and world are rap battling for 2nd)

15. Favorite cover? dont listen to many covers either, but daywave's ceremony one is nice

16. Should Hooky rejoin the band? HELL nah

17. Do you like Barney’s dancing and fav dance move? HELL nah fav move is the one where i put him in my human size mouse trap

18. How many times a day do you listen to NO? idfk man

19. Is New Order your favorite band? nope (cocteau twins my beloved) but they were for a few years there

20. Should Steve audition for Dr. Who? sure. why not. whatever u fuckin say i guess. i would support him

21. Favorite Barney collaboration? fuck barney bruh all his collabs give me brain damage

tagging the only real one on this site @tastyfish and ermmmmm @youngoffender (hi im kweenofthenight instagram sory for the tumblr jumpscare)

[the-wintershade]

midnight blossoms

pairing: jack russell x reader summary: it’s been a hundred years since you’d last seen Jack, and the power of the memories won’t leave you. but returning to the place where it all started has a way of bringing him right back to you where he’s always belonged. wc: 3.6k+ (mhmm, there’s plot to this one) genre: ANGSTY, comfort, soft!Jack because he is a teddy bear, immortality angst, sweet reunion bliss a/n: thank you so much for the request anon! this was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy it, and it fits what you were looking for!

The forest looked different from all those years ago. 

Moonlight filtered through the tree branches same as before, but there was something missing in its glow. Maybe it was the spacing of the branches, twisted and maimed by time. Maybe it was the lack of magic in the air when you’d been here around three hundred years ago. 

You could feel the sleepiness in the earth now. There used to be a greater buzz, more energy to draw from when you’d create little balls of fire for your campfires. The groups of supernaturals back then could be from fifty to one hundred. 

Now, it was hard to find anyone that lived nearby that’d seen as many forests flattened to marshes and flimsy wooden buildings charred to nothing. There were many places that claimed to be a part of the “moon folk,” but their potions were cheap and murky and ambiguous words taken from fortune cookies.

You knew as much as the next supernatural that you didn’t need herbs and glowing juices to do what you did. All you needed was the energy of the earth, cultivated by the loving and respectful actions of others. Emotional content lived on in the soil. When soil turned into particles of air, the air then carried the emotions too.

That was the most powerful stuff, and that was why it was dying out. People don’t care like they used to.

The wind picked up, snapping through your hair and stinging against the collar of your jacket. You huddled into your outerwear further, squinting through frost-induced tears. 

As you leaned forward in your steps, it was as if you could almost see that fire burning again, the gathering place of old friends, some new to time’s gentle embrace and some frozen to its growing incessant staleness. Their laughs pierced through the gale, the glints of their teeth twinkling like stars.

The memory dissolved as you approached the spot of your nightly meetings, a turquoise orb of moon-generated light emanating from your palm suffused the trees around you. The only thing left of this meeting place was the cream-colored flower of the moonflower.

About one hundred years ago, once the meetings had become more regular, a couple of members thought it’d be funny to make a garden, an arrangement of fauna that didn’t sprout until the group gathered with life. Some laughed, but others, you, and a special werewolf named Jack decided it would be fitting.

A garden of midnight life. 

And so it came to be.

A new flower was planted each time a member joined and flowers were removed for those who the group had lost. Jack made sure to add one when Ned joined much later in the group’s history. 

There were ten flowers then.

There was only one flower now; the only one cared for by you.

Crouching down, you brushed your fingers along its soft, silky petals, a caress of greeting. You felt the blossom hum against your finger in response. A sweet smile curved the side of your lips.

It was too cold for the flowers now, so you had to take some liberties with its environment. You made sure to come back to cast artificial warmth around the gentle plant. To the moonflower, it was always exactly sixty-five degrees.

Your smile lingered as you watered and nurtured the soil around it, pulling from the caring energy that strengthened each time you returned. But you weren’t just smiling from the emotions left behind, there was a special story about this plant.

You and Jack had planted this together. You wanted to place yours near the back, symbolizing your protection over the group. It was true after all. You did always light the fires, waiting for people to gather and creating a cocoon of warmth around everyone. Their joy only strengthened the atmospheric dome.

But Jack stopped you with a worried and soft look. “Oh no, you can’t leave that there. You must be in the middle.”

Your answering laugh was light and confused. You and Jack were friends, but since when would he care where you placed your blossom? “Jack, please. It’s where I want it to be.”

He huffed, teasingly rolling his eyes. “Come,” he bent down to pull you off the ground, gently firm hands holding the back of your elbow. “Let us place your blossom where it truly deserves.”

Your heart soften then, and once again when he kept you close to his body, ushering you along. It felt like you were being put on display as members smiled and smirked at each other as the two of you passed. You’d noticed their subtly knowing eyes for days but rarely did it think it had anything to do with you.

Their words drifted over, ghosts of more meaningful conversations. 

“Making a move, huh?”

“About time.”

“I knew it! All it took was a flower and…”

An excited rumbling drifted over. You knew it was Ted. Of course, he would have something to say. He loved teasing the two of you about the way you always paired off to go get things together. It wasn’t your fault that the two of you enjoyed each other's company.

In your procession to the front, among stares of warm, familial eyes, you glanced back at Jack once. His eyes were the brightest you’ve seen them. While you shied away, he was glowing, smiling and nodding at everyone as you passed.

Then his eyes drifted to yours. Something in you melted at his softhearted gaze. His bright orbs relaxed into something warmer, that reminded you of the sugary coffee he loved so much. 

He stopped you before you had the chance to look away, looking down at the ground in front of you. He’d led you to the front as he’d promised. He looked up at you with an adoring smile. “Here. Perfect.”

You forgot to breathe, trying to think of what to answer. His light laughs tickled the side of your stomach that pressed into his torso. He softly pulled you down to the ground with him as he placed his flower away to help you with yours.

His hands skimmed over yours as he helped you plant it. You tried to ignore it for the sake of your sanity, but then the bumps and affectionate grazes happened, again and again, fingers tangled together and backs of hands tickled and rubbed.

When you were done, both of your cheeks were a rosy, blushing collage. It was perfect. Claps from those around you, seeing what you had missed the last half a century, filled the air, but you were too lost in Jack to notice.

It was then that everything started. The dates, the warm belly laughs, the private moonlight meetings by a pond nearby. You lived together, loved together, and spent all that time with one another. And the two of you, happily insusceptible to time’s wear and tear on the body, took your time to enjoy what you had with one another.

And then, only a decade into bliss, the town’s people finally found your group’s meeting spot. Laughter morphed into screams, pacts of nonviolence shredded to pieces, and soon there were too many flowers that would need to be ripped up to reflect all the people you’d lost.

You, Jack, and Ted formed a circle, each person fanning out to try to minimize the damage as much as possible. Fires, both from you and Ted and the townsfolk, flickered through the trees, singeing bark and people. Jack’s growls were fierce and furious. Ted incinerated people without so much as a blink. You hurled fire and electricity at people’s heads.

You were all scared and overwhelmed, and eventually, the townspeople overwhelmed you all. Jack cried out. A bullet tore through his chest. You raced to give cover, and Ted followed, but by the shakiness in your arms and the growing wave of people coming, there could be no hope of all three of you getting out alive together. 

You’d need to split up. You and Ted had already talked about Jack’s safety before, but since Ted was stronger and you were weak and drained, he would be the one to stay with him. You’d find another way out. You could move faster on your own.

But the procedure didn’t chase away the feeling that you might never see them again, and how little time you had to prepare for that. But you did have enough time to say your goodbyes.

So, you looked at Ted and nodded in silent farewell. His frown matched your own as a glistening tear lit by the orange fires trailed down your cheek. “I’ll miss you, Ted. Take care of yourself.”

His groan sounded more like an anguished and desperate cry. You felt a similar rush of pain well up in your throat.

Ted started to work on fending off the townspeople as best as he could. Their screams disguised your movements as you ran over to Jack. His face, a dense outline of hair in his werewolf state, contorted as he writhed. He folded his body around his abdomen and fresh wound. 

Jack was good at healing. You’d found that out after he’d accidentally cut his thumb and he’d healed within about five minutes, but a bullet hole was much worse than a simple cut. It would take too long for him to stay here and try to rest up.

“Jack, baby,” you reached out and smoothed some of the hair out of his face. He flinched, evading your touch, but calmed once he recognized your scent. You’d worked together over the years, practicing when he was in his werewolf state so he’d be able to remember who you were in his shifts. It paid off now. “Ted’s going to take you away from here, alright?”

His eyes, locked on your face, twisted in confusion. He pressed further against your hand as if sensing that you were going to leave him. “You have to go, darling.” You tried smiling through the lump in your throat, but the cracks in your voice gave away how much this was hurting you. “I love you.”

He stilled at your words, frowning. Tears welled up in his eyes. Whatever you were saying must have been getting through to him. He reached up to you, careful not to press his claws against your face as he pressed his large, strong shaking hand to your cheek. 

He tapped your cheek three times. It was a way the two of you could communicate when he couldn’t quite use words. 

I love you.

Ted’s thunderous footsteps came nearer, but the two of you stayed there, trying to memorize each other’s faces so that time wouldn’t dissolve your features in both of your memories. And then Ted, with one last whining, sad grunt in your direction, picked up Jack and bounded away.

The townspeople were closing too fast to watch them run away, but you could hear Jack’s cry far after you’d hidden further into the woods.

And now, here you were, minus the moon folk, minus your friends, and minus Jack. You were the last known member of a family lost to time. 

You always came here, every anniversary of the time the meetings started almost 225 years ago, to honor those that were and those that might still be. Because the stories of the moon folk became so popular nearby, it was safer to dig all of the flowers up, to keep people unaware of who might still be alive to hunt. 

But you couldn’t forget the fact that you truly didn’t know how many survived. The only person you knew for sure of to this day was yourself. So you kept the moonflower planted, exactly where it was. 

The plant was hurt in the ambush, half bent and weakly tied to its stem. In the five days you waited to return after, it somehow still lived on. You’d acquired some new scars too, a limp that wouldn’t go away until a few weeks later, and a gash up your forearm from a sword from the 18th century that would leave a scar for ten years. 

After you’d dug up all of the other moonflowers and tossed them away to protect your family’s anonymity, you nurtured your blossom back to life with the little power you had left and vowed to return. 

And here you were. It’d been a hundred years and some change since the ambush and massacre.

The wind drew your attention back to the row of trees you hadn’t realized you were staring at. It was the same row of trees that you’d had the feeling Ted and Jack ran to escape. You never knew if they’d made it, but you couldn’t find their bodies while you searched for people in the weeks following. 

It was the last thing you had of Jack. The last image that played through your mind. Your memories, still very susceptible to time, forgot his face. But you had this moonflower in front of you to see all the time, and the affection in his smile was still familiar.

You’d looked for him through the years, but with it being so dangerous, name changes happening so frequently, and your method of moving to survive, it was hard to find anything. Ted would definitely stand out and so you looked at various reports of Big Foot sitings, the closest way mortals would describe him, but nothing matched his features.

Ted and Jack were lost from you. 

But maybe one day, on an anniversary, he’d meet you here and you’d be happy again. 

You just didn’t realize that day was today.

You collected the wood to start a fire as you’d done before, a ritual to celebrate the times you’d had here. The wind was blowing hard enough to blow out the flame before it caught on the wood, but once you created a cocoon of sixty-five degrees of still wind, the fire had no problem catching. 

Your cocoon wasn’t as strong as it was before, the emotions tied to this place fading by the year, but it was enough to keep you protected.

You’d just sat down to do your annual fire-staring contest with yourself before you heard the trees rustling around you. It wasn’t uncommon for different animals to come by to inspect the flames, but these weren’t the steps of an animal. 

These were human movements. And human movements spelled danger. 

You didn’t bother putting the fire out, but you stood and cloaked yourself, watching for movement around the edges of the trees around you. After fanning through a couple of rows, a head peeked out, a bit older, but with a timid gait you recognized.

You needed more information to be sure. There were many times all over the world you’d thought you’d seen him. 

When the orange glow spilled over his suit, his face with his ancestral markings, and the warm, soft look in his eye un-morphed by time, you knew it was Jack. “Hello? Anybody there?” The sound of his voice, familiar and comforting was followed by a surprised cry. It took you a minute to realize it was yours.

“Hello?” Jack called, desperate. Apprehension pulled his shoulders into stiff peaks, ready to spring at the first sign of danger.

You forgot you were still cloaked and dissolved the spell. “Jack.” You breathed.

He stilled at the sound of your voice, just like he’d done all those years ago. “Amor?”

Cutting across the short distance between the two of you, you barreled into him, arms locked around his torso, drawing you as close as possible to him. He pressed you tightly against him, a sigh of happiness and heartbreak blowing against your ear.

He cupped the back of your head, stroking your hair. “You’re alive.” His whisper splintered as if broken by his disbelief.

You uttered his name against his chest, repeating it over and over again as if it were the first time you’d ever learned it. Maybe this was your way of relearning, trying to commit the way you said his name memory after letting it rest dormant. A name without a person to respond to it. It hurt. 

But it was different now. Now he was right in front of you, holding you, whispering your name against your skin too. Your names weren’t figments of your imaginations anymore. They meant something tangible now.

Then came the tears. Both of your chests heaved in realization that you’d been alive and not together all those years. You’d spent time apart you could have spent together, lost time that didn’t have to be.

“Ted?” You’d garbled between hiccups. 

Jack nodded his head, moving back from your embrace to cup your cheeks. “He’s alright.” His words warbled, but Jack was smiling. “We’ve been moving around together. I actually had to go save him a few nights ago.”

“Good.” You buried back into his chest giving your brain a chance to register that Jack was real and alive and holding you. “I’ve been coming here for years. I never saw anyone. I thought everyone was dead.”

Jack pulled you closer, pressing a warm, tender kiss against the crown of your head. “I thought so too. I couldn’t come back after…I thought it was too dangerous. Ted and I kept moving; it was safer.”

“That was smart.” You sniffed. “Worked just like we talked about.” 

Some time passed in silence before you leaned back again, staring at his worried face. You needed breaks from his hold to see him, to piece back together all the features you were missing, just in case he disappeared again.

In the breaks of holding each other, Jack never broke eye contact, eyes shifting over your face too. It was like he was doing the same thing you were, creating new memories of your face where old ones faded. “I looked for you,” he mumbled. “I searched all over.”

“I’ve been looking for you for a century,” you whispered, reaching up to run your thumb against his still soft cheek. He looked the same as he did before, just a little older now, five years matured where he was supposed to be a hundred. “I never stopped.”

Jack nodded, eyes closing over fresh tears. “I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

“I know,” you sighed, reaching up to wipe away his tears. “But we’re here now. The moonflower is even still around.

Jack chuckled, his slowly opening eyes spilling over with tenderness. Then he sobered, his smile fading from his face. You frowned. “Jack?”

He sighed and reached for your hands, weaving them together. This felt like the beginning of bad news. You felt your stomach drop. “(name)?” he begins. 

Jack hardly called you by your first name. One hundred years and he forgot that? Not likely, but maybe something else is going on. Does he not want to see you after everything that’s happened? Is there someone else in the picture? 

Scenarios of Jack happy with someone else appeared before your eyes before you have a chance to stop them. Your eyes fell, and you forced yourself to stare at his hands to keep from being able to read what’s on your mind.

“It’s been a hundred years, and I thought I’d never see you again.” Jack’s voice carried an undercurrent of separation, warning you to prepare your heart early for his next words. “I know we’ve probably become different people in that time. I’ve changed, and you changed.”

Your heart began to tear. It sounded like he was going to say goodbye again, just after you found each other. This couldn’t be happening, but nevertheless, your chest tightened.

Jack huffed in frustration. “What I’m trying to say is—”

“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “It’s alright. It’s not like we knew we were alive, right?”

Jack paused for a longer time than you thought he would, and his silence concerned you enough to look up. His eyes looked so broken it crushed you. “No. No, never, amor. You are everything.”

His hands rushed to cup your cheeks, drawing you closer so your noses were touching, breaths fanning out against each other’s skin. “I just…you’re so…it wouldn’t surprise me.” You reasoned, closing your eyes at the feel of his skin underneath yours. It drugged you, pulling you into his further, but even that wouldn’t be enough. 

You needed time. You needed him beside you each morning from the rest of your lives forward. You needed the grounding feeling of his hand in yours. You needed so much more than just this one moment. 

“What I was trying to say,” he breathed laboriously as if fighting the same stupefying spell you were. “Was that, if you were available, I want to spend all my time with you.” His half-lidded eyes, open in loving despair, locked on to you. “That is if there’s no one else.”

You chuckled. “Like they ever had a chance.” His answering smile echoed your grin as you pressed closer, confessing everything against his lips. “No one compares. They never have and they never will. I adore you. I’ve never stopped. Not for a day or an hour or a minute. You are everything to me.”

Your lips pressed together with a fervor of a kiss sanctified by time and made powerful through devotion. Everything you could never say, all the love you could never express, all joined as the stars watched.

The moonflower still grows; now there lay two more.

[beannary]

Hi hi!! I don't know if you actually want people to infodump in your ask box, but you reblogged the thing that said to. Anyway, so I write a lot, and I'm actually trying to make a horror-comedy story. It's about family and paranormal and unreal, and I'm very much excited about it!!

Right, so the biggest thing that I'm excited about but it's not actually a big deal in the story, is that one of the main character's special interest is clowns!! His name is Oliver, and he goes out on weekly "clownings" with his friends Frankie, Allison, and Gabe. His little brother Jasper makes him outfits, and Ollie helps Jasper with ghostbusting stuff in return. And Ollie's other brother, who's kinda like a twin, but they're a few months away. Anyway, Elliott (who also goes by Lucky) is the not-twin, makes cameras. and Ollie takes them on the outings to see how well they work and report back to Elliott.

In the actual story, it doesn't play a big role, but it's mentioned a bit, in the memory lane chapters and the actual hook.

I actually need to come up with an actual personality for Skye, because everyone else has something, but I've rewritten her so many different ways, I'm unhappy with her direction. Skye is the oldest, she's super into astronomy. I love her. Out of all of them, Bonnie is one of my favorites, she plays hockey in college and has a lot of anxiety, but is the groups kind of bodyguard while they try to find their missing siblings. And then there's Elliott and Oliver, who started this whole thing and are kinda joined at the hip, and tell each other the most things, while keeping the most secrets. Then there's Jasper, whos super into the paranormal and is definitely straight and totally hasn't made out with his best friend Adam. And then Marsh does robotics and his personality is kinda based off of my little brother, who is my favorite person ever. And then the youngest is Holland, and she's kinda the leader, along with Skye. Like, they but heads a lot, but with Skye's real work knowledge and Holly's quick thinking and solutions that really shouldn't work how well they do, they make a good team!

This went on a lot longer than I intended, I'm so sorry about that, I'm just very excited!

Oh yes I 10000% meant it when I reblogged that post!!!! I absolutely adore listening to people talk about the things that they like! It's so much fun!!!

This sounds like such a cool story!! I love all the siblings they seem so cool! I do also really like the whole clown thing aksjdhfjlksha I'm scared of clowns but I also adore like drawing clowns