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#lonesome manor
theheadlessgroom · 1 month
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@beatingheart-bride
"I wish you could've too," Randall lamented, as he embraced Emily for a kiss-having watched her read these letters, having seen his old handwriting (looking hardly different from the chicken scratch he called his penmanship these days), he felt an ache in his hands as they seemed to remember penning each and every one of them, as well as an ache in his heart, knowing how long she'd had to wait to read them.
That was never the case: It was supposed to be a surprise that night; after their walk, he was leading them back to Minnie's, he hadn't told her he had a surprise waiting for her back at the shop, but he was eager to return, and present them to her-a sort of early wedding gift, in a way; something they could maybe put into an album, to look back on their courtship fondly over the years to come...
As much as he didn't want to remember, he knew he had to confront that particular memory of the woman in white, coming down the sidewalk as they walked along. He vaguely recalled being taken aback by her being dressed all in white (like a bride, he realized), but wasn't going to think anything of it when she reached out and grabbed him, and he saw her fangs...
He suppressed his shudder to the best of his abilities, and tried to stay in the present as he parted from the kiss, saying, "I...I'm so glad you've finally gotten to read them now, though. I always wanted you to, even when I was too scared to tell you how I felt, even in a letter..."
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writing-fanics · 7 months
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the new haunted mansion movie is really good so far def better than the eddie murphy one. hearing the haunted mansion theme from the disney ride is sending me
the haunted mansion has been my favorite ride ever since I was little, and the Lonesome Manor in Epic Mickey my favorite part of the game even tho it was really short I loved it
also the movie danny devito
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middenway · 1 year
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Comics I need more of in 2023
The Lonesome Hunters
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Tyler Crook’s both writing and drawing this series and it shows. I love the pacing, I love the emphasis on character. And apparently the next arc should kick off in either April or May, so I won’t have to wait too long for this.
Manor Black
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The wait between the first and second arc was a long one thanks to the pandemic, but I’m hoping this series will be allowed to pick up some momentum with a new arc in 2023. Ideally, I’d like to see a new arc each year—Cullen Bunn and Brian Hurtt have plans for many more stories, and I would love to read them.
Tales from Harrow County
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I don’t know how I’ll get through 2023 if we don’t get another arc of Tales from Harrow County. The second arc, Fair Folk, was left on a huge cliffhanger, and the third arc, Lost Ones, went sideways and told us a wildly different story that makes everything so much more epic and, of course, ended on another cliffhanger. The fourth arc will theoretically be dealing with the fallout from both these stories and I am in agony waiting for it.
The Night Eaters
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From Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda (somehow doing this new series while also doing a new arc of Monstress every year). This book was one of my highlights from 2022. Ipo is fantastic and I cannot get enough of her. There were times her dialogue had me laughing out loud.
Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra
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At the moment the Avatar: The Last Airbender comics are being written by Faith Erin Hicks, which is about as close to a perfect choice as I can imagine—she understands the age group, she’s a huge fan of the series, and she really loves to dig deep into character and express it through action. (There’re reasons why I always pick up a book if Hicks’s name is on it.) Most importantly, Hicks has said before how she’s reluctant to do an Azula story, because it’s a delicate balance—and frankly, I wouldn’t want anyone writing Azula unless they felt that way. Peter Wartman’s an excellent fit too, managing to tackle not just the character and action, but the world itself—the world is such a huge part of these comics! This is gonna be great.
Meanwhile, it seems The Legend of Korra comics have stalled for now. We got a short story anthology this year (Patterns in Time, which I have not read thanks to Nickelodeon locking Australia out of digitally distribution). My hope is that this book helped Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino find a team that can carry this series somewhat regularly.
The Bone Orchard Mythos
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We’ve already got Tenement and Starseed scheduled for 2023, but I’m hoping to see the beginning of some short stories or one-shots too. Shadow Eater can’t be collected until it has enough companions, after all. Plus, my favourite part of The Bone Orchard Mythos is seeing the creators play with different formats and that makes short stories very appealing to me.
Frankenstein
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Frankenstein and Lilja on a roadtrip in the New World. Sounds like a pretty great book to me.
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paintjars · 1 year
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no, they are not going to name names. have a wonderful day!
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kringe · 2 years
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in terms of "if my characters were supernatural beings what would they be" (well first of all vassilus already kinda is but besides that) the most obvious 2 would be that well beatrice would obviously be a ghost and vassilus would obviously be a vampire
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Okay, so maybe Tim has no business being in Bludhaven. Tim maintains that since his parents fail at parenting, he can do whatever he wants.
Besides, it's for a good cause. Like, not letting Tarantula get her dirty hands on his big brother in another time line. Tarantula had popped up in the Bludhaven servers - by that, Tim means the endless amounts of threads and underground fronts for criminal activity that he stalks on a regular basis- by being seen with Nightwing. Tim had immediately booked a ride to Bludhaven and bought another burner. He'd try to take care of her himself, but if worse comes to worse, he'd call Deathstroke. He's totally aware of the weird tension Deathstroke has with Nightwing and Tim's kind of banking on that.
Dick's been back in Blud for two months now, Jason having assuaged his mother hen tendencies enough for Dick to get sick of the Manor. Tim hadn't meant to follow since he had plenty of projects to work on now that "SAVE JASON" wasn't blaring at the top of his head.
But then Tarantula appeared and Tim saw red, remembering the way Dick spoke about her and what she did to him.
He bids the driver goodbye. The driver doesn't question his being on his lonesome mainly because 1) Gothamites mind their own busines, 2) Tim gave him a $500 tip to make sure he remains a "good" Gothamite cabbie, and 3) Tim made sure he was dropped off in the swankiest, most ostentatious hotel Bludhaven had to offer.
"Rich people," the cab driver had muttered as Tim closed the door. Perfect.
Tim got his keycard, having checked in under Alvin Draper over the phone. Normally, they'd require an in person visit, but money talks. And people listened when Tim had a lot of things to say.
Tim even feels like he's trained enough to go out! Lady Shiva's training was ingrained into his memory, and Tim's built enough muscle to make use of some of it. He is still nine, after all. He's so much stealthier this time around. Plus, he's got almost his full tool set back. Sure, some of the tech is ancient, but he managed to finagle it to make grappling guns and smoke pellets more along the quality that he's used to.
Tim waits until nightfall, looping the surveillance around his window to mask his exit. Tim adjusts his domino, eyes scanning the city skyline as his handheld computer (god, he can't believe he has to invent wrist computers) tracked reports of Nightwing through Tweetings.
Ah. He's around Seventh. Tim grimaces as his untested joints adjusts to the grappling guns. His dark clothes make him hard to spot, to his advantage as he tracks down Nightwing.
Tim watches, perched on an adjacent roof as Nightwing takes down a crowd of goons with the flips Tim remembered watching from afar and up close in another timeline.
"Blockbuster'll kill everyone you love, Nightwing!"
Tim winces at the rather brutal crunch that followed, Nightwing having punched the guy and knocked him out in one move. He watches Dick sigh, tugging at his hair in stress.
Tim could... no, no. He shouldn't think of murder as a first option. Well, no, he shouldn't think of Deathstroke as a first option. But he'll need to take Blockbuster out before anything happens. And he needs to threaten the new Tarantula before anything happens. He won't allow her to even get close to Dick.
Maybe it's unfair to punish her for a crime she hasn't done, but unlike murder, rape can never be defended. Catalina Flores is a dead woman walking.
Tim stalks his big brother back home and then broke off to begin his short reign of terror over Bludhaven's underground. If he can't get Dick to take a break (and Tim's tried, a lot, over the years) then he'll make sure that the next month is as gentle as possible on his older brother.
Step 1. Murder Take care of Blockbuster
Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.
No. Wait. Tim has a better idea. He's got dirt on them, on top of the murder thing. He'll fabricate Catalina's tax returns, embezzle a shit ton of money from the IRS, and get her and her corrupt brother (because getting your sister out from murder charges is considered corrupt) arrested and locked away. And he'll make sure they stay locked away with some good old blackmail on Amanda Waller.
Tim grins, tranquilizing the building with an ungodly amount of knock out gas pellets, to riffle through the police precinct's files.
Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.
Step 2. Cripple Catalina Flores and her brother with blackmail and the IRS.
In three hours, Tim has everything he needs to begin a temporary hostile takeover. He's got the names of local mob bosses, the big players, and the names of practically every police officer that takes bribes and their... sponsors.
He'll have to cut off Blockbuster's lines of supplies first. Then, blacklist him from local suppliers, mobilize the police precinct against him (by imitating his M.O. perfectly- Tim's not a fucking amateur- and pretending to rob the precinct blind), and then break his knees.
Step 3. Profit
Tim takes out his shiny new burner phone, enjoying the loud sounds of the police squawking through his planted bugs. He lounges on the building next to it, keeping an eye out for Nightwing just in case the man decides to respond to the crisis.
[Unknown: It's RR.]
[Deathstroke: New phone?]
[RR: Who dis?]
[Deathstroke: What?]
[RR: Nevermind. I'll give you forty thousand to shoot someone's knees out.]
[Deathstroke:... That's it? Who?]
[RR: Blockbuster. Bludhaven. Extra twenty thousand if you tell him he's got the spine of a sea slug, kick him in the balls, and post it on Tweeting.]
[Deathstroke: What did he do to you? Deal.]
Tim ignored Deathstroke's question.
[RR: Half sent. Confirm?]
[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Timeline?]
[RR: Three weeks. 21 days.]
[Deathstroke: Confirmed.]
----
Tim grins ferally, all teeth as Catalina Flores looked on in horror at her computer screen.
"Get out of Bludhaven, and don't come back. If you even think of going near Nightwing, I will rip what's left of your pathetic, sniveling swine of a brother apart. You will not enjoy the consequences."
Tim clicks off, watching Catalina and her brother launch themselves into mad packing. He tapped out a short message to Amanda Waller for her and her team to intercept them at the state lines. They'll never get away from Tim's fury. Never.
[Waller: It's done.]
[Waller: I will find you.]
[RR: You can definitely try, Waller. Good doing business with you.]
Tim can see the blood vessel the woman popped after he sent that last message. He laughs.
He saves Deathstroke's video from Tweeting onto his actual, spoofed phone. He destroys the burner phone, less shiny now that he's dragged it through two and a half weeks of breaking heads and terrorizing the Bludhaven Underground. Nightwing hadn't even gotten a whiff of his activities, this Dick being far less experienced and known in this version of Blud.
One more week and Tim can continue his other projects.
----
Nightwing, going about his vigilante business: wow it sure is peaceful
Feral Tim Drake, Nightwing's scary dog privilege: try me, bitch
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qcomicsy · 1 year
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a list of funniest things jason todd could do:
slowly steal the parts of the batmobile and reassemble it elsewhere, then pull up next to bruce in his own second secret batmobile
become a lawyer and get joker setenced to the death penalty - bonus is that he completes college and gets a degree which bruce never did and alfred is proud beyond the gravethat one of his grandkids actually completed college
change bruces name to "free trires" in his phone contacts
call time the wrong name everyday, but it starts of sounding like a genuine mistake (tom, jim ect) and slowly gets further and further away from the original (jimothy, jeremy, dave, the dogs name)
dye his hair red, claim he was an original red head and then gaslight the family into believing bruce made him dye his hair black to look more like dick and be a replacement
come out as gay and claim to be the only gay member of the batfamily and when tim tries to say something to dispute it he just hits him with "who are you again? the computer guy or smthing?"
could also come out as poly and roll up to family dinners with more than one partner and if someone says something about it, he just says "mad cuz i got TWO more partners than you huh. lonesome bitch."
feel free to add on
LMAAAAOO THIS IS GREAT
Let's go.
Made a carbon copy of Batman and spread in strategic places on the Batcave, Tim's boat, Clock Tower, Duke's nest and Dick's house. (He almost killed them)
(One of Dick's colleagues saw it and he had to lie he was this die hard Batfanboy, his ego never recovered until today.)
Stole Tim's mug and placed on Damian's room, stole Damian's mug and placed on Tim's boat then proceeded to visit the Manor until he hard the scream of the fight he planted between them;
When he saw Bernard for the first time he said "Whoa Timmy you move on fast, this one is Terry right?";
Did a Tramp Stamp tattoo;
Slut shames Dick every chance he gets (this one is actually cannon);
Shot Dick's phone;
Every Christmas shows up with a different Outlaws member and affirms that's his partner
Dated an arrow to piss of his dad, when Bruce got over it proceeded to date a lantern instead;
Never told no one other than Dick he's actually in a stable relationship with Artemis because he refuses to swap Bruce's horrified reaction to a normal one;
Gave Bernard the shovel talk;
When he bumped with Selina after the (failed) marriage and she teased him on how he didn't gave her shit for it he just answered "No, no I get it"
Purposely brings Harley to bat reunions under the bullshit "She's my therapist" when the bats bother him, knowing his therapy with Harley only count when they're at her office;
Told every one he's Harley's adopted kid (actually Harley was the one to say that once when she was drunk and he just went along with it);
Exchanged Bernard's number to Kon's in Tim's cell phone and vice-versa;
Left his Mustache grow and showed up as Matches Malone in one of Wayne's Gala;
Lied he was actually a Titan but they kicked him out because Dick's is an asshole;
Stoled Signal's Patrol Lunch;
Stole's Spoiler's lunch;
Brought alcohol to manage going through their family gathering when he was caught he blamed on Tim;
(He thought about blaming on Dick but he knew Dick would just go along with it)
Everytime Dick, Barbara and Bruce call him he answers with "He's dead";
Introduced Tim to the Outlaws with "That's Robin they found him on the thrash"
Showed up to Barbara's job dropped a "Hi mom" as a greeting then proceeded to laugh his ass off while Barbara tried o explain to her coworkers that that tank of a man wasn't her child;
Told Dick Talia adopted him;
Told Talia Dick adopted him;
Told Damian that if Batman dies he's going to adopt him out of spite;
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deafsignifcantother · 3 months
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if music be the food of love
♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic) ♥ word count: 2.1k ♥ warnings: reader got hurt by someone they loved before death, reader is shorter than him, bickering, reader loves tea, lonesome reader, alastor invading space ♥ my idea is that reader has a small stereo on her chest that lets out classical music based on her mood. I imagine that it comes from both her chest (softly) and the outside of her manor (loud as fuck). matching pinterest board
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Your manor is only visible to the town when the lights are on a tall hill and covered in trees. However, even if all the lights were off, people would at least know it's there.
There are two reasons: the tale and the music.
Tale, a story for the newcomers. They speak of a demon who plays music all day, doomed to play music forever. Oh, the music. The music can be heard from even miles away.
It's refined and dainty, and it reeks of misery. The classical music never seems to repeat itself; it goes on and on and on and on. The demons hear you only through your music. When you cry, the violins and cellos grow with a cruel crescendo. When you sleep, the music is soft, almost quiet. Everyone comes to an understanding, assumption, that if the music were to stop, you would be dead.
The demons who try to step closer to your manor will find themselves experiencing unfathomable sorrow and guilt. The sound of your music is the demonic ability you possess, and it's out of your control. Due to the sadness of your death, you are forced into misery in the afterlife. When you were alive, those you loved and devoted yourself to only broke your heart.
Everybody affected by your music feels that grief.
Alastor doesn't understand why people fear your manor. Your love-related pain doesn't affect him at all.
He starts up the hill, moving both on his feet and through the shadows. On his way to your manor, he focuses on the landscape. The landscape is beautiful; the forest below is so dense that the red sky disappears. Personally, he loves the music. He loves tuning in on you and hearing how you're doing. He sparsely gets to visit, so hearing the song of your heart is always so welcoming.
The worst thing to him is how long the damn walk is.
You're in your house, passing through the dining room, when the lights flicker. The people from the nearby town stutter when the usual sad music suddenly becomes upbeat.
Opening the door, you are greeted by Alastor's traditional smile. You're the one that initiates the hug. He gently wraps his hand around you, only for a short time before he pulls away and establishes his distance.
"Long time no see, my dear." He signs, his claws adding a flare to the simple signs. Truthfully, his sign for "my dear" translates directly to "sweetheart," which he's aware of, just putting faith into you understanding what he means.
"I'll start some tea." You sign, turning immediately to the kitchen.
He smiles at the jazz sneaking its way into your music. The people outside know what it means.
Alastor looks around at the new decor; the place is different every time he enters. It's all the things that you enjoyed when you were alive. That's what is most noticeable about you beyond the aura you possess and how stuck you are to the past; you refuse to acknowledge your situation, which is both a curse and a blessing.
From the kitchen counter, you look at him, seeing him behind you, his staff out of his hands.
He leans a bit forward. "I have news! Have you heard of the new buzz, the new project from the princess of hell?"
A small smile forms. "Charlie?" You remember many years ago when she appeared at your door, in tears due to your involuntary magic, begging you to teach her ASL. You politely declined, though you wrote her a long paper about Deaf Culture (often derailing to rant about your opinion on common debates/crazy events). You've never seen her again, but you're confident she's read it.
You continue, "Her projects are... sweet?"
"Sweet and quite peculiar. She believes that demons can be redeemed. How absurd!" His smile grows, his eyes squinting in interest. He knows you're devoted to being good and staying away from violence. He's here to convince you to join her cause.
"Fascinating," you can't help but show your pure astonishment. "She's on our side."
"Oh, how kind you are!"
The tea is ready. You turn entirely away from Alastor, and he lets you. Your thoughts are apparent; he has spent weeks excited about this conversation. He's absolutely fighting the urge to spill out every argument he has; he wants to mention that if you participate, you'll see each other daily. That hasn't even crossed your mind yet.
You pour the tea and take your time, a little nervous to continue the convo. Alastor's eyes remain on your frame, your casual clothing. The last time he saw you, you were dressed up despite spending your days alone.
You hand a cup to him. Neither sign; you stand still, staring at each other and drinking. Both of you already know what the other will try to say next. Your eyes are deep in thought while he is locked on you. The only reason you are doubting being involved with everything yourself is that you know your aura makes others depressed. It is not very good, isolating. On the opposite stance, Alastor always noticed how your music gets positive whenever he's around. He knows (guesses) that in the hotel, with his presence, your saddening demeanor would be no more.
He moves abruptly, you follow, and he sits on a heavily cushioned couch, dipping deeply, which makes him smile. Your soft smile grows—more piano.
"What are your thoughts?" He prompts with one hand. You take a very long sip of your tea before putting it down.
"I wouldn't make them feel comfortable," you explain. "That's all I think about."
"Ever so pessimistic, my dear. You never know unless you come to visit. What do you say?" He grabs his mic and jokingly reaches it to your face, "A simple visit?"
You put a hand to your temple. "My love," you sign without noticing how his lids droop in comfort, "do you really think I would belong?"
He puts his hand to his chin in faux thought. "Of course I do! The princess will approach you with open arms."
You let out a small, broken groan. You're not going to be winning this little debate. Alastor's going to be able to rebuttal everything you say. Knowing that, why is it still so hard to give in?
You put your hands in your lap before returning them to your temples. His smile grows, and the static radiating off him grows ever so prominent, tickling your skin. You look up at him when you notice the change in the air.
The way he looks at you gives away his intentions. He is standing tall in his usual formal way in his seat, but his eyes are ever so casual. He gazes at you more than anything. His smile is still wide and prideful.
You wiggle a finger at him. "Ah."
He squints.
You continue, "You want to see me more, don't you?"
"Who wouldn't?" He plays off, shrugging. "Your captivating presence has every demon in hell dropping their jaws agape."
"Youuuuuu," you smile mischievously, "you want to see me more."
He continues to wave his hands. "Your accusations are futile, go ahead and fill your pretty head with things such as affection," his shoulders bounce as he chuckles, "dreams about how I miss you."
A breathless laugh leaves your lips. Rather than continue the teasing, you let the positive atmosphere linger in the air. You lift your chin with confidence. "Practically admitting it."
"I know what you want me from me." He signs. You smile at how he interpreted it. You don't bother responding. Instead, you give him a sly smile and lift your cup, taking another long sip; his bottom eyelid is twitching.
The last time he saw you, he signed you many compliments and even danced with you to the rhythm of your music. He let you put your hand on his face as he leaned his forehead against yours.
Admittedly, you only started teasing him because you wanted him to tell you that he missed you. Obviously, he did. You didn't expect him to be so stubborn about it.
When you don't respond, he continues. "When I'm here, your heart sings in happiness."
You nod and sign with one hand. "Very true."
"Well, I find the sound lovely."
"Very appreciated."
You watch as he leans back and crosses his legs, lifting and finishing the teacup. You both spend a few seconds without conversation, just looking at each other. In an attempt to hide how flustered you are starting to look, you lean your head back and gulp down the tea to the point where the cup is hiding your face. But you can only keep it in that position for a short time. After finishing the drink, you place it back down, finding that Alastor is already sitting with his fingers intertwined and waiting for you. His eyes sparkle.
"My dear, I missed you very much." And as quickly as the affection comes, it disappears. "I must give the little lady what she wants. There, are you happy?"
"I missed you too, Alastor. Thank you for coming up again."
Sappy, sappy, sappy. Will you agree to return to the hotel with him now?
He straights his bowtie and stands. "My dear, I'm afraid our time here will be cut short; I have a hotel to show you, don't I?"
You stay seated, just eyeing him. Peer pressure, you sigh and try not to roll your eyes. A simple nose exhaling is enough to show him how you feel.
He leans his head to the side. "Is there anything I can do to convince you?"
You finally stand and meet his eyes. His eyes are gorgeous; you love the way he looks at you. He doesn't take his eyes off you when you step close to him. Your hands reach for his overcoat, and you adjust it fruitlessly, only wanting an excuse to touch him.
You smile. "I can cook you something for your long trip back."
"Our."
"Your."
You both lean in, smiles straining.
He tries again. "Our."
"Biscuits, I assume," you turn your heels and motion for him to follow you. The motion you make is beckoning, and when you flick your wrist, he grabs it and pulls you into him. He lets you go to see your response. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You fall for people too easily. His touch is demanding, yet his face is calm, and with how close he is, all you can do is stare up at him. Your feet stumble a bit to adjust to your new stance. He will fight tooth and nail to get you to follow him back; throughout his days, he always wonders what you're doing and your music might sound like. He'll close his eyes and try to imagine the melody in moments of silence at the hotel.
You can't find yourself stepping back. "I'm perfectly okay with where I am." A lie. "Nobody will bother me if I'm out here."
"And nobody will bother you when you're next to me, get it?" After he signs, both of his hands hold your cheeks. He tilts your head back and forth to try and lighten the mood that's getting a little serious.
You try to hold his wrists and pull his hands down, but he fights against you. He lifts your face so he can look at you head-on. The waist bends his body; he curls himself up to you. Your touch falls to his sleeves and then moves to his biceps, your fingers grazing him gently.
The music is fast-paced, like your heart. It sounds almost angelic, a new ethereal sound surrounding it.
"Okay," you fold but then immediately chew on the inside of your lip.
"Perfect!" He presses his forehead to yours quickly before pulling away. He's taking this win. He turns and eyes the room, motioning. "Packing anything?"
With a small sigh of defeat, you place your hands on your temples again. What would you even need? Like a spoiled child, you realize that if you did need something in particular, Alastor would get it for you. You smiled and shook your head to yourself. "I don't think I need anything at all."
"Spectacular!" Another dramatic sign. "Come along then." The fast twirling of his staff blows air onto you when you start to walk behind him, eyeing how his fingers twist. His head turns as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, his head dipping as his smile widens. The static in the air becomes thicker.
You take a deep breath. If you can say 'I told you so' to him, you will be bringing it up until the end of time. He knows that, so it's good that he's confident in himself and his deductions. He'll ensure you won't be leaving and isolating yourself any longer.
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obsessive-valentine · 4 months
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Yandere!vampire x GN!Reader (HC’s)
Growing tired of a lonesome life he sets eyes on you but you can’t ever imagine yourself growing to love such a monster, he isn’t to worried believes you will come around at some point, he’s fine with waiting for a couple of centuries. For now he will just hang around and admire his first and only love; Possible Stockholm syndrome?
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No one, not even you, will ever know why you were taken from your house in a beautiful but sleepy European town during dusk; but people came up with theory’s. Most agreed upon was you had been taken by the monster who’d been terrorising the village people for years now, and there was nothing they could do about it. So the case was closed, your loss mourned, then life went on thinking you were dead amongst the other random victims of the beast.
But to him you were anything but random or a victim for him to slaughter, only he knows ‘why you’. No one made it to the manor house, he resided in, alive not even him being dead himself; no one until you.
He’d kidnapped you fairly fuss-free, the only consequence was the nasty bump on the back of your head rendering you unconscious but manageable. He laid you in silks and vintage furs on a capacious bed with gold a painted frame and placed ice on your head in an attempt to soothe the ache in your skull.
You were scared into submission by the creature for the first few days - you could have mistaken it for the devil himself with red eyes that bored into your soul and sharp threatening teeth. He responded in short sentences, usually stern and held a disinterested expression that made his eyes look more menacing than he truly was. It was confusing to decipher what he wanted from you, he didn’t seem to want blood but neither to happy about your unwilling company.
“I wanted you, so I took you. Lets not complicate it”
You’d come to learn that he wasn’t unhappy with you at all that was just the sort of face he has, being isolated for uncountable years meant his emotional awareness and expressions had grown rusty to say the least. You’d learn he just liked to be in the same room as you, he didn’t toy with you or worse, he came to sit in the corner of your bed room one in a while and read or write while you busied yourself with one of the many things he gifted you (found laying around in a draw unused for many years) or slept.
In fact he let you get away with a lot like how you’d try everything from retaliating verbally or physically but he’d only respond with a scowl of disapproval or a strong grip around your wrist briefly to remind you just who he was. He knows all about the grieving process having been through it and seen people go through it over and over, so he’d let you grieve over your lost life but doesn’t appreciate when you get really rowdy; bringing you back to earth with tough-love.
...
At some point during the first year of being kidnapped you’d given into harsh-reality, noticing there was no chance of escape as he hears your every foot step, and that even if you did there would be nowhere to go. Seeing you become more obedient encouraged him to soften a bit more, to meet you in the middle, and you let him grow closer after noticing his intentions couldn’t be that bad since he had yet to hurt you or bite you.
There are still arguments, nights where it would all become to much for you and you’d blow up in a emotional rage, demanding you go home or ‘what his intentions are’ and why did it have to be you specifically. So he’d let you hit and shout until you grow tired and your throat sore, wordlessly he’d pull you into his chest where you’d be forced to stay for the next hour. Doesn’t really take anything to heart during these arguments, he knows -at most- a centuries time you will be happy and love him maybe as half as much as he loves you.
Other nights his frustrations get the best of him and he shouts back, demanding ‘you get used to it’ that your friends and family stopped looking for you long ago and he’s all you have now etc. You’d storm away to your bed and he’d sit frustrated in his chair for a while before quietly entering your room and joining you in your bed to hold you and whisper apology’s, making sure you fall into a peaceful sleep before he leaves.
Forced bonding through board and card games!
Of course he sleeps in a coffin, a luxurious one in the room next door to yours, and he wants nothing more than for you to sleep in there with him but wouldn’t bring it up until your inevitable turning where he make you a vampire just like him. You didn’t think he would let you die and leave him to wallow in heart break for the rest of eternity did you?
This man has had so much time on his hands that he’s messed around with most every hobby, most recently (almost a century) he’s taking a liking to the violin. Sometimes he plays while you sleep and no longer around to entertain him (downstairs, as far from your room to not bother you) and sometimes the muted melody wakes you up for a moment or weasels it’s way into the dream you are in. It comforts you a bit, chasing away the eerie silence followed by creaks and scratching of the old manor house that would make sleep harder to come by and even harder to keep.
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cozymoko · 1 year
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LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!
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Synopsis: The return of a famous model's lover who's a bit too infatuated with them.
Pairing: yandere "oc" x gender neutral model! reader
Word Count: 637
WARNING(S): yandere themes, obsessive behavior
More like this? → Yandere Shorts Masterlist
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CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!
“Okay Okay! Give me a sad face!” A stern voice called out.
Camera shutters blinded you for what seemed to be the thousandth time. You were exhausted. Smooth body oils were smeared along your bare skin, just the tiniest bit of makeup enhancing your natural beauty. Tears trail down your cheeks, catching the light of the flashes, the loud cheers and words of encouragement were tuned out as your heart weighed down your body. Little did they know your emotions were nothing short of sincere.
“Awesome, now move a little more to the left!”
Break soon came as your head went fuzzy, the motivation you had was hardly there while your makeup artist dabbed the tears from under your eyes. The flawless smile pulling at your lips began to falter as you conversed with the artist, you could finally let loose a bit. No more faking. No more stress.
This break, however, was short-lived as you were called back to the set a mere ten minutes later. You sigh, waiting for a wave of exhaustion to hit you once more as you stepped onto the glimmering stage.
But it never came.
“Oh! Sir, it’s nice of you to stop in!” The director shouts, shaking the hand of a strikingly familiar man. He was tall, dressed in a suit hugging him in all the right places with a camera tucked securely beneath his arm. Their interaction was cut short as he began to approach you in long, confident strides.
A dazzling smile graced your lips at his arrival. This was no regular man but the one you arguably loved the most. Your FIANCÉ, the one and only. Oh, how you missed him.
He set the camera aside, stepping onto the set with you, crouching so he was at eye level with you. “They had you wearing this flimsy thing?” He chuckled, toying with the hem of your shirt, broad shoulders shielding you from prying eyes. “Don't worry, you look stunning...Is this what I would've seen at home?”
His tone was light and playful, as expected of him; yet there was some bitterness lingering in his words. Ignoring it, you hum contently at his words, whilst the sporadic drumming of your heart reached your ears.
His one hand wrapped around the small of your back, engulfing you in an addicting embrace. His sugary sweet aroma dominated your senses, evoking a feeling of joy at its smell. The little mind he gave to those around him made you flush in embarrassment. Just what had come over him?
“This is a photoshoot, what are you doing?” You laughed into his shoulder, though showing no signs of pulling away. “We're on a timed schedule.”
“I know,” He smiled, gently kissing the curve of your neck. “I was the one who made it, remember?”
You did remember, though it had almost slipped your mind. Your lover was a very successful filmmaker and writer with opportunities flying at him from all directions. He was gone for countless weeks on end, leaving you to your lush manor all by your lonesome. All with anything you could desire but him, but his prescence.
That must’ve been too good for you since he was giving it to other people. You thought bitterly.
The lack of response from you made his eyes narrow. What was on your mind - or rather, who? After being sent off, slaving away so he could come back to you and bathe in the warmth he had longed for since his departure. Yet you were silent, gazing at him intently with soft doe eyes. This simply won't do! He must have you all to himself~!
“Frankly, I don't think I can hold myself back much longer.” The man cupped your cheek. “Why don't we turn this into a private session?”
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December Monthly Roundup
Here's December's fic round up!
DC/BATMAN
Worlds Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam   (gen)7k, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd-Centric Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake.
Batstream by RandomReader13 (gen), 6k, Bats on social media, Humor   “I want it on record that I think this is a terrible idea and I’m only doing this to mitigate the damage." AKA Red Robin decides it's a great idea to livestream patrol while Batman's off-world. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
cards on the table by wesslan (gen) 67k, WIP, Fortune Teller AU, Tim Drake-Centric  Tim's parents faked their deaths and fled the country years ago, but neglected to take him with them. He spent some time on the streets, and now at 16, he makes a living as a fortune teller, stalking and hustling the shit out of Gotham's elite by telling them eerily accurate fortunes based on the information he gathers about them.  His life is peculiar but he wouldn't change a thing. When he gets booked for the big Wayne Halloween party, however, he finds himself getting all tangled up with the Waynes, and the more fortunes he tells, the tighter the snare becomes.  or: Tim just wanted to scam Gotham's elite, not end up on the Batfamily's watchlist. But it seems they just won't leave him alone..
(a not so) lonesome town by wesslan   (gen), 10k, 2-part series, Sentient Gotham, Jazz music. Two works in which Gotham City is sentient and adopts enough kids to rival Batman himself (Batman is one of them).
Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee) (gen), 43k, Meta Tim, Resurrection Powers   Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.  When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.  But most of all, Tim is alone.  (If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)
HUNGER GAMES
right here in the old therebefore by californianNostalgia (Katniss/Peeta) 14k, Canon Divergence, Ghosts There’s a ghost at the Hanging Tree. Katniss sees him first when she’s six, her hair in braids, the song about the growing gallows fresh in her mind. This changes nothing. This changes some things. (In which Lucy Gray killed Coriolanus at the lake.)
How Rue Became the Mockingjay by aimmyarrowshigh (multi) 5k, Different 74th Victors AU Katniss Everdeen and the girl from Eleven are ruining their best-laid plans – the Capitol’s and the Rebels’. So Caesar, they say. Announce the change. An alternate chronology for The Hunger Games.
CROSSOVERS
Annabeth and the Nine Step Career Plan by feeling_the_aster_9145 (Annabeth/Percy), 76k, PJO x DCU, Annabeth gets Lex Luthor arrested, BAMF Annabeth. Annabeth Chase does not accept limitations. Everyone knows that. If she wants something, no matter how impossible, she will find a way to make it happen. Though, perhaps she will allow Bruce Wayne and his ridiculous paranoia-induced company restrictions a small portion of the credit. Actually… now that she thinks about it, the man may have had a point in his worries. Wayne Technologies does not accept college interns. Annabeth always has a plan B.
A Lesson in Superiority by Nation-Ustria (gen), 96k, WIP, Batfam x Harry Potter, Damian Wayne is Harry Potter, Wizarding Politics “The good news is, he’s not cursed,” Constantine says. “And the bad news?” Dick asks sharply. Constantine squints. “I wouldn’t call it bad news so much as, er, news.” He turns to Damian with something like a grimace. “You’re a wizard, kid.” “...I’m a what?”
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travellingarmy · 1 year
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Lilia Vanrouge x reader 
DM Requester: @kimura-uzuri
Reader: Intended female audience but no use of pronouns nor description.
Warning(s): Yandere themes. Overuse of words. 
Word count: 6.9k 
You don't need to read part 1 or other versions to understand. ^^
All rights reserved. Do not steal/copy and paste and upload it anywhere.
║Lilia Vanrouge║ Sweet and Naive Pt 2. / “Our” Happily Ever After
Being the oldest kingdom in existence, there were bound to have many legends and myths. One such tale was of the popular ones which entails a sleeping princess awoken by a charming prince whom had slayed the mighty dragon. The lesser known ones consist of a tale which was estimated to be at least a hundred or two years old that started off as a rumour.. That rumour involves a prestigious and most respected old noble house.. Vanrouge.
It is said that a beauty with an angelic voice could be heard in the far west side of the Vanrouge’s estate where those who had worked for the family before years ago had reported to have never been allowed in that area before they all simultaneously were fired one day by the lord of the house, Lord Vanrouge. 
When pressed about it, they revealed that the lord used to have a lover who occupied the entire west side of the house. When the lord had reported that they had gone on an adventure for who knows how long, he said that the west side won’t be needing servants to keep going to and fro from one side to the other for a while and thus, dismissed them. They are willing to bet that the west side of the building is much dustier than any other part of the house. 
From that stems questions from the common folks of the Valley of Thorns whom didn’t have any lesson of proper etiquette and who didn’t know any better, though the nobles at that time were curious as to the rumour spread around about the great general as well– but being nobility, they kept their mouth shut; not a single word uttered regarding the rumour of their beloved general whom lead the kingdom to many, many victories.. Even questions such as why couldn’t the lord keep it clean until his lover returned? Why did he suddenly tell everyone to keep away from the west side of the house where even when his lover went on a trip, they could now hear sobbing from that area instead of singing now that no one occupied that area?
Though many have reported this, they could easily be chalked up as the lord being saddened from the decision of his lover to go travelling and leaving him alone in such a big and lonesome house for who knows how many years and wanted to preserve the memories until he can create new ones when the love of his life returns.
Yes. Surely this must be the case. However, the lord had not said a single word regarding the rumours to edge it on further; adding more fuel to the fire, and remained completely stoned-faced as his reputation lived up to be so quickly, many thought of the whole rumour to be just that– a rumour and quickly left the minds of many people. Yes, many and not all. After all, what makes the world unique is that not everyone will completely agree on one thought. There are always those who would like to be the abnormality and firmly believe the rumour, even going as far as to tell a tale of them sneaking inside the estate and hearing sobs on the west side of the house. However, they couldn’t be too sure who’s tears were shed– if it were even crying that they heard– since they could not get any closer to the manor without alerting the lord of the place. 
And so, the rumour started to dwindle like a candle at its last few moments. It will be there but won’t be really brought up. 
This was good for Lilia as now, he wouldn’t have to deal with those pesky flies that lurked around the walls of his place and focus on taking care of his beloved. Ah yes, his beloved whom he told left to go on an adventure as it was her favourite thing to do.. The same lover who he is keeping well hidden in the west part of the house. 
Heels clicking against the stone cold floor, he made his presence known to you well before he opened the door. It had been a good few years since he left you in isolation up in your chambers, though that was not his choice and felt a little guilty about leaving you up there by yourself. He had duties that needed him to be at the castle at all times– which was raising the future king to be the best ruler that he and the people would accept and greatly respect .
“Little fairy, I’m back~!” His voice chirped the moment the doors opened. It has truly been so long that he is suddenly hit with the feeling of nostalgia the moment he sees your form from behind, remembering how much he missed and thought of you while at the castle. However, he doesn’t get a reply from you. 
Your head was pointed downwards, eyes obscured by the strands of hair in front of your face. Lilia rounds you until he is in front of you. “Hm?” Upon closer inspection, he sees that your eyes were closed and face very relaxed as if you were sleeping. 
He draws close and bends slightly, holding up your face by the chin, his long black– and highlighted strands– of hair brushes your skin. With his expression neutral, he looks upon your features, noting all the things that remained the same about you and the nothing that changed from the you in his memories before he left.
He smiles. O’ how his eyes soften every time his ruby-like eyes gaze upon your form and how his heart slightly accelerates when his fingers brush lightly on your soft face, a tinge of excitement passing through him. How are you able to bring out this side of him, a side that even he, himself, wasn’t aware of until he met you? 
He held your face as if it was a prized gemstone that would crack at any moment if held by careless hands. “Please wake up soon, little fairy,” he breathly says, lips closely brushing against your own, “It must be lonely in that little world of dreams of yours.” 
He chuckles. How stubborn could you possibly be? He has known you far longer than anyone, yet some things remain unknown to him such as your relentless pride. Even though it has been years of isolation, you not once look at him and seek comfort in another's warmth– of his embrace. 
You can feel it. The sudden shift of the air around you. The already still world of yours suddenly felt as if time had been forcibly stopped by a force far greater than it. You knew what this meant and just as you were starting to have a growing friendship with the mice that would occasionally come in through means you aren’t privy to. 
He was coming and every part of what was left of you suddenly felt heavy as if you’ve suddenly been turned to a statue; it grew stiff. Lilia Vanrouge– a name you loathe uttering aloud, yet feared at the same time– has returned. Great. Just great, you thought grumbly, just when life was going wonderful for you. 
How long has it been anyway, since you were sensory deprived of sight and touch– two important things that you need in order to know the world around you? You couldn’t walk either so what else were there to touch besides the floor and your shackles that bound your wrists and ankles? 
All that was left to know that you weren’t just an empty shell– something hollow with nothing residing inside– were your hearing and taste, and not to forget, your ability to smell things, though that was useless as there was nothing to smell except the dust that would accumulate over time if he didn’t come regularly to clean up your cell. 
He specifically left hearing just so he could chat away with you, though you don’t answer often but when you do, it would be snide remarks. He would chuckle and call you and your remark adorable with a tone you would use when talking to a child, despite you being hundreds of years old.  
You hear the clicking of his shoes draw to a halt right in front of your door momentarily before the doors make a loud, exhausted creak. It has been a while since those doors were open. The last time, you remember, was after he said his goodbyes with a peck on your lips. He said he would be away for a while and couldn’t bring you along, much to his dismay but very much to your delight– if it weren't for the fact that you were once again bound to the ground by chains that could only barely reach the door before pulling you back further into the room.
A warm breath fanned against your cool cheeks yet you remained still, pretending to be asleep. You didn’t want to face him, let alone talk to him. He hasn’t done anything to you since your captivity that would make him be deemed cruel and not worth talking to, but he was the reason you were shackled in the first place. 
He holds your face so he could take a look at you, cool touches sending shivers down your spine. He held your face so gently that if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that it was just the wind gently brushing cupping your face. It’s eerily frightening how his touches can one moment be filled with a caring warmth as if you meant the world to become cold and covered in blood– your blood– smearing blood on your face when he holds you when you once almost perfectly escaped him. “Kufufu, you almost had me, little fairy.” The way he looked then scared you and since then, you hadn’t tried to escape. 
You hear shuffling around and the next thing you knew, you were lifted up. You could hear the beating of his heart, slow and rhythmic. With you in his arms, he makes his way to the door and leaves the room altogether– the room that you familiarize yourself with these past years he had to forcibly lock you in yet again. 
After a while of walking, he yet again opens another door. You aren’t sure where you are now despite counting the steps he took and corners you felt he turned. You felt like an outsider to this manor you once called home, not remembering the layout of the place. 
Carefully, he lies you down on a comfy mattress with your head propped up on some pillows. Afterwards, there was a long silence and some more. You wanted to take a peek, wondering if he was still standing beside you, but you were afraid. You became hyper aware of whenever he would draw near to your cellar or when he would stare at you so you didn’t need to look around to look for him. Not that you could even see him. 
Just then, another sound was made and you can feel the side of the bed where he stood slowly pressed downwards from whatever weight caused it. “Little fairy.” You can feel his breath on your lips again. He reaches a hand and cups your face and leans down so that your foreheads are pressing against each other. 
Your lips slightly quiver and you prayed that he hadn’t noticed so you can keep this act of sleeping for just a bit longer. Your already sharpened senses sharpened more as you could hear the rapid heartbeat of yours quicken and drum against your ears loudly. 
Why isn’t he saying anything more? What did he want? You just wanted him gone. 
A breathy half-chuckle reverberates from his throat before saying, “My dear, as much as I find your sleeping face adorable, this one doesn’t look so much as cute as the others.” Your jaws clench. He couldn’t have known– “You need to try to relax your face a bit more if you want to make me believe you.” 
There it is.
He chuckles in amusement when you still weren’t opening your eyes. “My dear, you can open your eyes now that I’m here.” There was no more pretending, in other words. 
Slowly, a pair of beautiful orbs stare back at him, Lilia Vanrouge, the Valley of Thorns’ beloved general. His smile widens. He could feel his heart quickening at the sight of those two eyes that he loves dearly as they were a part of you. 
You can see again..
Of course you can now that he was here, but you would rather go permanently blind if it meant you didn’t have to be greeted by his smile every time you opened them. That soft smile that holds so much love to you. That smile that deceives people– even yourself– and makes them think that you two were a match made in heaven, a cut in those red strings never severing your bond with each other.  
“Good morning, my love.” Something inside you feels like it wants to crawl up and out your mouth. It was sickening. He caresses the top of your head. You shot him a glare and shooed his hand away, though this did not result in any anger from him. “Kufufu, aren’t you adorable? Are you surprised to see me still looking the same, hm~?” 
He pulls back and straightens his posture, eyes still glued on your form that sat up slowly, bewildered at how your wrists were once more freed from the chains that bled in with your skin. You can move them again.. You can feel again. “It’s only been a short while, but it certainly has  felt like a millennia since I have seen you.” 
You look up into those blood-coloured eyes (you wonder if they were like that because of the amount of people he has killed) filled with adoration for you only. “Why are you back here?” You croaked, trying your best to voice your spite with the unused vocal cord. You don’t understand how someone who kills could have it in them to love. Just the thought that a monster was running amok in the disguise of a noble fae sends shivers down your spine. “Why? Kufufu, little fairy, this is my home. Of course I should be returning once in a while.” You wanted to say something but you didn’t know what so you continued to glare at him.
“You have been behaving well while I was gone, I presume, hm?” He smiles. You don’t answer, but once again, he doesn’t take it to heart and merely shrugs his shoulders. “You must be hungry, hm?” He stands up and dusts away the non-existent dirt on him then looking at you with that cheeky smile that you used to love. “Kufufu. Come, my dear, I wish to dine with you.” 
__
He has made you a favourite dish– or, tried to at least. At times like this when it comes to dining, you would often take the  however, you were not in the mood to entertain him nor to eat so you sat there, poking at the.. Questionable mush. 
“My dear..” The clanking of utensils halted when Lilia saw that you hadn’t eaten a single bite. “Is the food not good?” You wanted to say yes, but you weren’t sure how he would react. He’d always been unpredictable and during those times before you took on cooking duty, you would swallow hard at his cooking but never outright said it was the most disgusting thing that you have ever tasted. 
If he would just spend more time learning to cook rather than swordsmanship.. You wouldn’t have to endure this painstakingly crafted inedible food. 
“I’m–” You cleared your throat. It’s been a while since you’ve used your voice that it sounds so foreign to you. But you will never forget his voice that haunts your sleep at night. “I’m just not hungry right now..” You lied– err, half-lied. You were somewhat hungry but after looking at the food, you’d rather just starve yourself. 
“Hm~ Very well then,” he shrugs. “Now, you must have been curious as to what I was doing while I was away, yes?” No, not really, you wanted to say. In fact, life had been better than ever before during the times he was gone. “Kufufu, it has been.. A century now, yes? The young prince has grown to become quite the handsome young boy. Who would have thought that it would only take a century for a little fae to become so big.” He chuckles amusingly to himself. “In just about a few more decades, he’ll be able to attend Night Raven College–” You drowned him out. 
There was not much to think of, seeing as you’ve had little to explore and worry about, so you blanked out. “Ah! But don’t worry, little fairy, I have thought of you every day for the past century. I have told the young prince all about you as I could not help but miss you so,” he said, concluding the one-sided conversation. 
Spring came and went. Now, the fluffy, white ball that comes every winter covers the ground that flowers once sprouted happily. Those flowers, dead. How many years ago was it when he had come back? You did not know, but since then, he hasn’t left the house to go anywhere. “Fufu, the young prince had granted me the blessings of being able to go home to see you,” is all he said. 
Blinking away from staring off into space again, you avert your gaze from the window. If you had the choice to do embroidery or exploring, you would choose the latter without giving it a second to think. Sadly, you don’t so to pass time, you were doing, you guessed it, embroidery. 
“My dear, why don’t we go on a walk?” Lilia spoke from beside you on the sofa. “Fine,” you nod. 
And so, you were now bundled up with a winter cloak that protected you from head to toe from the sheer cold brought from the north, walking side-by-side with Lilia in the garden. “It’s a good thing that those pesky flies have long gone bored of those tales,” Lilia said suddenly. “Who knows what they might do to you if they had gotten their hands on you.” He once again reminds you that you belonged here– in this home– with him. But you knew better than to believe those lies that he whispers o’ so sweetly. If you had been a bit younger when he met you, you would have believed him to a fault, but luckily you weren’t. 
So now, you were waiting for an opportunity to escape his clutches. Was it a mistake on his part for you to be roaming around? Perhaps. But you aren’t going to use this bit of freedom to sit idly by and be his trophy. 
Slowly, you’ve gathered things you thought you might need in order to leave and survive outside all without his knowing. You weren’t a child anymore, you knew that the world is not as magical as those written in books, but you also know that there are still good in the world. Though you had only had a few centuries to yourself before you had met Lilia, you were old enough to know things. 
“Little fairy, what seems to be occupying your mind, hm?” Lilia asks when he had noticed you were awfully quiet and not trying to pick a fight with him. In fact, you’ve been keeping to yourself a lot these past few days. “Nothing,” you answered snappingly. For appearance sake, you occasionally threw tantrums. “I don’t want to walk with you anymore.”
With a huff, you turned on your heels to return inside the manor. Lilia sighs defeatedly. He admires how you’re so relentless in being cold towards him. It was cute in a way. But a few centuries had passed and so you had grown (though not physically– you were as youthful as you were those years ago), yet not matured. You were still acting very much like a spoiled child. It was tiring the old fae. “I suppose this is my fault for giving her the world..” He mumbles, watching your back retreat inside. But, a smile soon after tugged at his lips lightly, “No matter.” If this is the price for keeping you caged, he does not mind. 
You’ll be his and his alone. 
The first day of spring was drawing nearer by the day. You could tell by the early spring flowers that were slowly sprouting in the garden as well as the mushy snow that were beginning to melt away It would be spring, you decided, to make your escape. And one night, when you believe that Lilia is fast asleep beside you, you quietly climb out of bed, carefully moving his arms on your hips and putting a pillow underneath it. 
Not wasting time as you feared for the sun rising soon, you walked out of your shared bedroom to a random door somewhere down the halls. It was so random that Lilia would not have bothered to look inside. But, just in case, you did hide your stuff inside a large vase of flowers in a far off corner of the room. 
There it was. Your satchel with everything you’ve managed to gather as well as light clothing– not those frilly, heavy clothes that he’d dress you up in– to change into and boots that you used to wear for horse riding. If you changed in the room, you were sure he would hear the ruckus you were making and wake up. 
To leave no trace of your escape route, you took your nightgown– it was thin enough to be small when folded– and put it inside your satchel. You took the kitchen window to escape, sure that the doors would have traps laid out for you should you dare try anything at night. He always had believed you were gullible but you let him think so anyway. Sure, he had the thinking of a long-time general, but he had not the mind of yours. He relied too much on his strength and magic whereas you were stripped of magic and lacked the other. He had nothing to fear since he is aware of his abilities to capture you, but because of that, he did not use his head too often.  
The kitchen window was a small fit, but you managed to fit through. 
Not looking back at the house, you covered your hair with your cloak. With the black colour of your cloak and the darkness of the night, you slipped away seamlessly. 
You were not going to stop walking until you made it outside the gates of the Valley of Thorns. No way. This entire kingdom was his domain where he had the most power and puppets to dispose of to search for you. It would also be easy to catch you here since you had an accent of a fae that’s not from the kingdom.  
Once you were outside, he could do nothing to chase after you since by morning, he would have to go back to the kingdom. Yes, you watched many seasons come and go knowing that one day, he’ll have to go back to his prince. You remembered once where you were sitting across Lilia and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, thinking that this prince was probably as no good as his guardian since it was him raising the prince. You pitied the boy since it was Lilia who was taking care of him. He would have been a great king if he was under someone else’s care. 
The sun was high above you when you were two villages away. You were a bit tired. You hadn’t stopped walking until you knew you were far, but it was nothing too draining for a fae such as yourself who had plenty of energy set aside due to not having anything to do. 
Soon, you were standing in front of the gates to– Rose Kingdom? Now, where had you heard of that name before? As if on cue, you suddenly recalled a fairytale that you read in Lilia’s library when you were younger and curious of the other places outside your little world. It was a story of a girl who fell into a hole where she met all sorts of strange creatures before meeting the Queen dressed in red. What was the story called again? Something Wanderland? Wonderland? It went along those lines, you shrug. 
This is one of the many kingdoms that humans built for people like them just as how the Valley of Thorns created theirs for faes like them. 
You looked around you, amazed at the lively and bright atmosphere. There were humans conversing with each other with smiles on their faces. They dressed differently than faes of the Valley, their colours more vibrant– or could it be just you? Everything seems much brighter here. Everywhere you went, every turn you turn, there were humans and not an ounce of violent tendency hinted at in them. 
Walking further inside the kingdom, you were too engrossed to notice that a little boy was running in your direction, unaware of you since it seemed as if he was running away smilingly, presumably playing a game with children his age. Small as he might be, he had caused you to fall on your bottom. 
“Ow..” The boy rubs his head, looking up at what he had run into and lets out a loud. “Oh! S-sorry! I didn’t see you, I’m sorry!” He had stood up and walk to be at your side with worries eyes. 
“It’s okay,” you said, dropping a hand down from your head. The racking had stopped and you were unharmed. 
The boy watches you before letting out another– this time, loud– gasp that draws attention to some people. “Your ears..!” Your eyes wandered to your ears and in an instant, you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Your hood fell off and your ears were out on full display.  You shot up quickly and covered your ears with the hood, but it was too late. “You’re a fae!” He shrieks. At that, the crowded streets that were full of chatter stilled and all the people stared at you. There were looks of fear, panic, and outrage. 
“What..” You gulped. “What about them..?” 
“You’re a disgusting fae! You ruined us!” A burly man shouts. “N-no! I, I didn’t! I’m harmless, I promise–” “That’s what they all say! We had a peace treaty but your kind attacked us!”
“What are we waiting for? Capture that filthy creature!” Another shouts. 
“Let’s teach it a lesson!”
“Hang it!”
You begin to back up as they close in on you. You tried to look for a way out but there was a wall behind you and you didn’t have any magic to defend yourself, not that you have it in your heart to harm magicless, innocent humans even if you were a bit stronger in brute strength. 
“DIsgusting fae!” 
The man who hurled the first insult was at your back and hooked his arms under yours so you could do nothing but wait for the oncoming punches and kicks thrown to you. You lurch forward at the sudden impact of a fist to your stomach. 
They did not give you time to understand what happened to you before the man who held you pushed you harshly and with a kick to the middle of your back, you fell on the ground. Instinctively, you had shielded your head with your arms as they continued to stomp on you, probably hoping you’d die.
“Hurry up and let’s burn it at the stakes!” One of them shouted aloud and to which many others voiced their agreements. “This is what it gets for creatures like them who burned our old village!” 
You were hoisted up and dragged hershey by the arm. You have to escape, you think. You can’t be here.
With the strength of a fae, you managed to pry yourself from the clutches of these monsters and ran. Where? You did not know, but as long as you kept running, you will be safe from these people. 
It was only when you grew weary, did you stop to take a breather somewhere deep into the woods. By now, it was evening and probably time for supper. At just the thought of dinner, your stomach growled. If I was still in the manor.. You would have dinner served fresh and warm and won’t have a single thing to worry about hunger.
Luckily, you did pack bread and cookies for times like this. But, not right now. You had to preserve what little food you brought and continued walking. Just a bit more, you see warm hues of orange and yellow.. A light. 
You drew closer to it and saw that there was a small house deep in the woods. It looks warm.. You rested a hand on a tree, mesmerised at the alluring colours of the light.. And the smell of food? 
Before you could do anything, you heard a click behind you and then something cold pressed behind the back of your head. “You, who are you?” A man’s voice said from behind. “You better have a good reason to be lurking in the dark or I’ll blow your brains out.”
“I.. I’m lost..” you answered. “That’s what they all say,” the man said and pressed the item closer to your head. “I, I swear, sir.. I really am lost.” 
“Oh my sevens! Dan, what are you doing!?” A woman’s voice drew yours and the man– who’s probably the owner of that name. The woman hurriedly walked towards you two and assessed the situation and noticed your young features and panicked. “Goodness, Dan, you can’t just put a gun to someone’s head like this. This here is a child!” 
“I’m..” “Not right now,” she shoots the man a glare. “Sweetie, why are you here?” 
“I’m lost,” you repeated the same answer. And once again, your stomach growls. “Oh dear.. You must have been lost for quite a while..” The woman guesses, “Come inside; it’s getting dark and cold– I don’t want you wandering around after dark. There are things that love to play after dusk..” She says cryptically. You didn’t notice the darkness that loomed over her eyes for just a second. 
Inside, you were sat down at a dining table and the woman– who introduced herself as Lilith– prepared dinner for all three of you. Well, four if you counted the baby growing in her stomach. She had told you of the baby and you would have never guessed that she was pregnant if she hadn’t told you. 
She mostly leads the conversion with you while her husband mainly listens as he eats. “Where are you from?” She asks. “I’m from a faraway village..” you answered. If you were to tell her of the village of faes where you were born and raised, she might freak out too. At that thought, you subconsciously pull your hood to hide your ears. “Oh? Then what brought you all the way here?” She pushes about your motives. “I wanted to travel..” 
“Hmm, it’s quite dangerous around this time to travel,” she says with a concerned look on her face. “I heard from the people of the kingdom that a war might break out soon.. And if you’re travelling by foot, then you might run into some monsters. It’s dangerous for a child such as yourself.”
“It’s fine..” you say, not sounding reassuring. 
After dinner, Lilith had told you of the room that you’ll stay in. It wasn’t even comparable to that of the rooms in the manor– it was smaller than that of a servant’s room. Nonetheless, you were grateful. 
“Oh, but dear, don’t you want to remove that cloak of yours?” Lilith asks as she passes you something to change into for the night. Your body stiffened. “N, no.. It’s okay..” 
She eyed you concerningly but let it go. “Alright..” And so, you went your way and washed yourself up before sitting on the bed, drying your hair. There was bruising from the man who had gripped you earlier but you should heal in no time. 
It was peaceful here, you thought. These people don’t mind being so far out here, isolated by everything else. 
You imagined the warmth of your bed and how comfy it would be right now.. 
Before you could sulk anymore, you hear the sound of shoes clicking against the floorboards coming closer. “Is there, [Name], is there anything else–” The voice of Lilith drew closer and before you could even reach for your cloak, she had already opened the door. You felt your heart drop as the world stilled. The wide-eyed look that Lilith gave you could only mean one thing.. 
“Oh dear.. Where was I?” she asked, blinking a couple of times. “Sorry, I was just surprised by how pretty your hair is.. And those ears..” Her eyes trail to the side of your face. “You must be a fae.” 
You waited for her to shriek or become hateful and throw punches at you, but none of those came. “Anyway, I was wanted to know if you needed anything?” Surprised, you couldn’t utter a sound so you shook your head. With a nod, she smiled and was about to leave until you stopped her, “You’re.. You’re not going to hit me?” 
Once again, her eyes widened. “Goodness, no! Why would i?” she asks, her brows drawing closer to each other. “Because you’re a fae? Goodness, no.” She moves gracefully across the room to sit with you and hold your hands in hers. “I don’t care what you are– be it a human or a fae. To me, we are all equal.”
She strokes your hands with her thumbs. “Dan and I moved all the way out here to live in tranquillity because honestly, this war that’s about to break is all pointless and silly.. I don’t want my baby to grow up fearing and hating people.”
At the end of her words, the tears that were threatening to fall, broke loose. You cried for the first time that night and in a long time. She hugs you and soothes your back. Afterwards, you went to sleep soundly, grateful to know that not all creatures outside are evil. 
Later that night, your ears sharpened and yourself, alerted. You heard the sound of the wood underneath you creak. A bit more slow creaking sounded and now, your eyes shot open and in one swift motion you sat up and looked over your shoulder.  
There he was, Dan, his face illuminated by the moon’s light. In his hands was.. A gun. “W, what are you doing?” You stammered. “You’re a fae. He said, eyes holding onto anger. You stuttered to say anything.
“You’re a filthy fae!” He said, this time, louder. “Please, don’t shoot! Lilith would–”
“Oh? What about me?” Just at the door, Lilith stood leaning on the frame. You could feel your stomach churn and your head dizzy. “Lilith.. I thought you–” 
“I what? That you don't actually despise your kind, do you?” She laughed. “I thought you all were smart. I guess not.”
She walks to you, the moon showing her in all her glory. “Creatures like you are destructive, manipulative.. You used that silver tongue of yours to kill my father and my friends!” She grabs a handful of your hair, making you wince. “It was just Dan and I who survived that nightmare..” She pressed her forehead against yours and it was then that you noticed the malice that hid within them. Her eyes were hateful like Dan’s but held crazed. 
“No.. No, no please.. I didn’t, I didn’t do anything–” You were crying and pleading to them, on your knees on the bed and hands clenched into a prayer. You can’t just die right here just when you have finally.. Ran away from home. 
She held you like that before roughly pushing you back. She steps back before motioning towards Dan. “Go on. Shoot this creature.”
He was right..
Lilia was right all along about the outside world.. 
It’s honestly laughable how you were acting so coldly towards Lilia and held so much resentment when in truth, he really was just shielding you away from the truth of reality– that the reality will come and hurt you and be too much for you to handle. 
These people– these monsters, are what he was protecting you from and you thought of it as him being controlling. 
“Lilia..” You sobbed.
Just as you said his name, the window behind you– on the other side of the bed where Lilith and Dan stood– was smashed and the glass pieces fell onto the floor. “What the–”
“Kufufu. I’ve found you, my little fairy.” At the familiar sound of a chuckle, you whip your head to the side and just over your shoulders, Lilia stood in his full height with a dark glint in his eyes. “Lil.. Lilia..!” You stood up from the bed and went to hug him, burying your face into his chest. The sobs that you let out were incomparable to when you were pleading for mercy. 
“Shh, hush now, my dear,” he strokes your head lovingly as if there was no imminent danger. “You’re safe.”  
The click of a gun drew Lilia to stop his actions and let his eyes wander to the couple who were in the room with you. “You..!” Lilith shrieks, a look of horror and familiarity dawns on her face. “Oh? Do you know me?” Lilia blinks owlishly. 
“How dare you show yourself here, you murderer!” “Me? A murderer? Oh dear, you must clarify for me, for you see, I am getting quite old,” he says amusingly. 
“You–” “Ah-ah.. Not a step closer. One step and this house will go down,” he warns. Lilith looks towards her husband who got the memo. In one swift motion, he raises his shotgun once more and aims it towards the fae, pulling the trigger. But nothing. No fire was sounded nor cries of agony. 
“Kufufu, you must have forgotten that we faes possess great power. Your weapon has long been disarmed of any bullets.” The two look at the gun in disbelief. When? How? 
“My dear, have they harmed you in anyway?” He cups your face and makes you look up at him so he could check. You shook your head but he inspected anyway and found your face to be slightly bruised from the kicking your face dealt with earlier at the Kingdom of Roses. He frowns. “Then what is this? You can’t be suggesting to lie to me to save these humans who tried to kill you?” You shook your head, “This was.. From other humans.. At a nearby Kingdom..” Yes, you’re telling everything that has happened, finding a boost of confidence. Now that Lilia is here, he’ll surely do everything in his power to cast judgement for you. 
Lilia’s eyes narrow a bit and a frown casts upon his lips. He was upset, but he tries his best to act calm in your presence. I mean, he has just earned your good graces; there’s no way he’ll lash out and become a monster to you once more. 
He lets out a deep breath and returns to the current problem at hand. “Anyway, do pardon me and my little fairy here, but we have to be returning home now,” Lilia shrugs and lifts you up into his arms bridal style and coolly walks past the two and out of the house through the front door. 
When you two got to a safe distance, a snap throughout the forest like a droplet in the still water echoed and just as you were going to wonder, Lilia spoke in that velvety voice of his, “My dear, do not look. Come, wrap your arms around me and sleep.” Obeying his words for the first time in a long time, you relaxed in his arms, too tired to refute. But, you did hear something.. Like a crackling of wood in a fireplace and further drowned out by the flames, screams. Still, you did not look back as Lilia whisks you away. 
“I love you, Lilia.” With that, you bury your face into his chest and fall asleep. 
Unbeknownst to you, Lilia smiles wildly– crazily. In the far distance, the house burns. You did not look back, you did not ask questions, nor did you throw a tantrum and run away from him. “Once you’re truly awake, you’ll be at home and on your bed, not questioning the reality before you..” Lilia says when he has ascertained that you are in deep slumber. Not once had you questioned how he got to you.
In the distance, the once bright flames that roared as it burns the house disappear into the dark. The cries of anguish stopped and the two couples left their suit in dark matter. The house itself and the surrounding area turned into shadow-like particles and broke away from the scene. 
Lilia laughs maniacally before he finds himself again and calms down. He looks down at you, loving eyes tracing every part of your face with a smile that hid everything that just happened.
“I love you too, little fairy.”
~♡~ 
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forestofstarlight · 6 months
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Open Starter: Not-So-Lonesome Manor (Male, Female or Futa)
Thunder crashed and heavy rain pelted down outside the old, abandoned manor. Your muse had recently taken shelter there to dry off and wait out the raging storm. The floor creaked as they walked around upstairs, soon stumbling upon a rather luxurious and comfortable looking bedroom. The glow of a fancy lamp was enough to illuminate the entire room. The bed was rather large and had expensive silk sheets with a plush comforter. A tall, full body mirror was in the corner, tilted slightly and showing the bed.
However, there was now a young woman on what was formerly an empty bed. A small, somewhat timid smile on her lips as she waved from the reflection.
“Hello. Welcome to my home.” She greets in a soft, warm tone. One that was welcoming but still sent a slight shiver up one’s spine.
@lewdest-dungeon @lockedboxbooks @nightmare-the-mercenary @ask-jaune-npr @fangedkingdom
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paintjars · 2 years
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sorry, that is directed at the other walt. they do not hear him until they get their name right.
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dokidokidemons · 8 months
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Hanging out at Serenity Manor, chillin' in a hot tub. Everyone's visiting, but it's pretty late at night. Someone notices you there, all by your lonesome, but looking content. Strikes up a conversation. You seem sort of off, but it's not too hard to chalk it up to you being sleepy and relaxed... until Levi resurfaces, eyes barely peeking out of the water just in front of you to look up at you for approval. You pat his head a moment before pushing him back under, never once stopping your conversation.
Perhaps you weren't so red in the face because of the warm water after all.
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dollish-shard · 8 months
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Doll on a Journey
Once upon a time, there was a doll that went on a journey.
She grew sick and tired of the obligations and expectations placed on her, being forced to live as a human.
So she packed a suitcase, gathered up what little money she had, and set off. She did not tell her family, or what few friends she had, but she didn’t care. She didn’t expect them to miss her too much anyway.
The doll spent a long time travelling. On buses and trains, from town to town, city to city. Her funds ran out quickly; one by one she sold her possessions, doing whatever she could for money and food.
Sometimes she did things she wasn’t proud of, things she didn’t want to do. But she did them. So she could continue her journey, to the place she needed to be.
It was nearly a full year by the time the doll made it to her destination. She no longer had any of the things she had started with; frivolous things she’d sold long ago. As she walked the final stretch of path, she carried only a backpack with the most essential of supplies.
The doll took a deep breath, and knocked on the door of the witch’s manor.
“Hello?”
The witch, tall, ebon skinned, and dressed in black, looked down at the tattered thing that had trekked so long to meet with her.
“Please take this one as your doll, Miss!” The doll bowed, desperation apparent in her voice.
The witch frowned. “Why don’t you come inside, dear?”
And so the doll did. One of the witch’s own dolls arrived to take her bag, but the doll refused, clinging to her supplies. Just for now, she told herself. She watched the other doll, dejected in being refused, with envy, but… something didn’t feel right.
She told the witch of her story, of her journey, over tea. She remained impassive as the doll told her story, though occasionally stoping to prod for more details, eagerly provided.
At last, when the doll finished her story, the witch spoke.
“So… you travelled thousands of miles, all by your lonesome, without any guidance, for over a year, just to find me and become my doll?” The witch seemed more bemused than anything else.
“Yes, Miss.” The doll nodded, bowing again.
“I see.” The witch’s eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid, then, I must refuse your request.”
The doll’s heart sunk like a stone.
“What? Why? I- this one is willing, it would make a good doll!”
The witch laughed, and shook her head. “That’s not the problem, dearie. I must refuse you because you simply aren’t a doll.”
The doll’s eyes widened. “What?” She… wasn’t a doll? But she had always seen herself as such… and yet…
“Dolls are simple things,” The witch explained. “Eager to serve and submit, yes, but above all, empty of Purpose. Easily swept up in the orbit of those more powerful. Were you really a doll, you would never have made it here.”
“You would have been snatched up along your journey. A doll could never have done what you have; ergo, you aren’t one.”
The doll… the not a doll thought about this. It made sense, she supposed. Had she been so blinded by her desire she had ignored the truth? “In that case… what am I?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” The witch said, smiling. “Not a person, not a doll, not anything I’ve seen. It’s a mystery… And I love mysteries.” Her grin got wider; between glinting pointed teeth was a sparkling abyss that seemed to pull the not a doll in.
“So, dearie… I cannot make you a doll, but I can take you under my wing. That is still what you desire, correct?”
She nodded. “Of course, miss!”
“Excellent.”
Once upon a time, there was a doll that went on a journey. But it was not a doll that finished that journey. And as one journey ends, another begins.
Now she had found a home, she had to find herself.
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