#muse ;; DARK LINK ( VERSE . CHAINED )

[tenebriism]

Legendarylullaby sends 'let me take care of you' for Dark/Malum (adult verse?)

Send ' Let Me Take Care of You ' for my muse's reaction [ ACCEPTING ] ;;

" Do NOT touch me. "

Hissed with a harshness much unlike the tiny, innocent, and soft spoken boy she'd grown up alongside. She should know, from experience, that hardships and abuse CHANGE a person for the worst, and no longer is their bond the picture of soft PURITY as it had once been. The scorches upon his backside BURN with a ferocity that bested even his ire, and he would be hard-pressed to allow HER, of all people, to see him like this.

" It is fine... I am FINE. Keep your distance and CEASE trying to aid me. It will benefit NEITHER of us. "

@legendarylullaby ;;

#legendarylullaby #[ he do be angry. not at her tho. well. kinda. #but mostly with his circumstances lmfao ] #muse ;; DARK LINK ( ANSWERED ASK ) #muse ;; DARK LINK ( VERSE . CHAINED ) #OOC ;; ( OKAY TO CONTINUE )

[metalbvcky]

Bloom!Verse Masterlist

It's been three years since the birth of this enormous series. I never thought a oneshot (which became eight chapters) could lead me to such character development and world building, but here we are. And I'm still writing, the muse hasn't died, and I'm not nearly finished (or ever will be). The lore is ✨ infinite ✨ So I thought I'd make an updated masterpost— in chronological order (as it's been written in reverse)— for the new year. Aster should be finished by the late spring and then I'll likely start the wedding fic 😉 I still have dozens of ideas for this series, it's insane. In fact, I have a poly fic in the works, I just need to continue and finish it 😋

🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷

Shelves of Aster - 96k (WIP)

Tags: Alternative Universe - Bookstore, Sugar Daddy, Meet Cute, First Meetings, Age Difference, Falling In Love, Healthy Relationships, Experienced Dom/Inexperienced Sub Snippet: Their eyes lock the second Steve pulls back slightly. They gaze at each other for what feels like forever, as if a magical force is drawing them in, closer, and closer until neither of them can ignore the tension surrounding them. Steve’s breath puffs against Bucky’s lips when he speaks, “Can I kiss you?”

Peach and Lemon Blossoms - 1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Office Sex, Implied Top Steve/Bottom Bucky, PWP Snippet: Bucky has always fantasized about office sex, and always found the risk to be a bit thrilling. He made sure to lock the door before he came inside, so there wasn’t a chance of anyone walking in on them, though there was still a possibility someone could knock.

Rose Blue - 60k, 8 chapters (complete)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, 24/7 D/S relationship dynamic, Kinky Husbands In Love, a whole bunch of smut tags Snippet: Steve smiles at Bucky before he reaches across the dresser, to the dedicated spot where they keep their accessories and things. Draped around a velvet bust is a sterling silver choker, the petite chain link gleaming in the soft lamplight. Beside the bust is a ring boat containing a wedding band that matches the one attached to the choker’s oval pendant, curved downward. Blue accent roses decorate the gold tinted sides, a crystal stone shining in the center with leaves tucked throughout.

Dreams of Poppy Fields (3 times Bucky pretended to be asleep and 1 time Steve caught him) - 4.8k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Fluffy and Smut, Light Angst, Possessive Steve Snipppet: Steve kneels down to pry the trowel out of Bucky’s hand from where he’d been tending to the garden. He slides Bucky’s stained gardening gloves off and tosses them aside, out of Dum-E’s reach. It isn’t the first time he’s had to carry Bucky to bed, and it surely won’t be the last, so Steve sees no problem in picking him up.

A Mug Filled with Pink Irises - 2.3k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Kitchen Sex Snippet: Steve crosses his legs, fixated on Bucky’s exposed collar bone from the low-cut neckline. Peppering kisses to his husband’s neck, not to mention sucking on the most sensitive spots, has always been his favorite part about foreplay.

Dark Dahlias at the Annual Potts/Romanov Costume Party - 6.5k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Halloween, Humor, House Party, Domestic Fluff, Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov Snippet: “Give me your best sexual pick-up line,” Bucky says, one-hundred percent intending to use it on Steve, if Nat doesn’t beat him to it. Clint leans against the counter, scratching his head in thought. Dressed as Fred Jones is truly uncanny for this particular moment. “I’m peanut butter. You’re jelly. Let’s have sex?”

Wild Amaranth Desires - 5.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Roleplay, Cages, Leashes, Blink and you'll miss it mention of a threesome Snippet: Bassy music thrums through the walls, the sound rushing in and around the small, closed-off area. A few multi-colored lights gently strobe in the background, occasionally highlighting over the cage that sits in the middle of the room.

Amaryllis in Baskets - 1.3k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, PWP, Dirty Talk, Cooking Snippet: Now here they are, Steve finishing up lunch while Bucky sits at the breakfast table with the warm, afternoon sun slipping through the curtains.

His Precious Primrose - 4.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Christmas, PWP, Aftercare Snippet: Steve takes the steps one at a time, his cotton, calf-length robe grazing the railing. Once at the bottom, he strolls through the hallway and into the kitchen, passing the dining room while on his way. He walks slowly, with no rush at all, when a gift wrapped up in front of the lit fireplace slips into the corner of his vision.

Identical Mauve Carnations - 3.6k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Dream Sequence, Wet Dream, Self-cest, Bucky/Bucky, Winter Soldier Bucky Snippet: “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a pretty thing like you,” James purrs, reaching up to brush a metal knuckle over Bucky’s cheek. “Think you can handle being with me?”

🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷🥀🌷

Because I know not everyone reads threesomes, I've listed the rest under the cut (and this post is long enough) 😉

Cattails In the Rogers-Barnes Household (A Scavenger Hunt for Lube, 5 +1) - 12k, 2 chapters (complete)

Tags: Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Threesomes, Pre-Poly, Dom Loki, Switch Loki Snippet: Loki vaults themself forward and successfully closes the door without alerting anyone. They scan the room slowly, spotting every little detail. The desk is rather tidy, however, the sitting area is the polar opposite. Magazines are scattered across the floor, throw pillows shoved to the side, and overall just in a disarray. What really catches their eye is the pair of leather cuffs poking out between the cushions, along with a thin strap for a blindfold.

A Toy to Share, Restrained by Coriander - 6.7k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Pre-Poly, BDSM scene Snippet: Loki pushes off of the wall from where they’d been leaning, arms no longer crossed, and takes a couple of long, determined steps. Bucky cranes his neck up due to Loki’s height, just an odd number of inches taller than him. Both of their gazes are locked in on each other, eyes unmoving while Loki curves a single finger under Bucky’s jaw.

Strangled by Thoughts of Poison Ivy (Bucky Rogers-Barnes and the No Good, Very Bad Week) - 9.2k (oneshot)

Tags: Pre-Poly, Scene Gone Wrong, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst Snippet: Steve doesn't think, he just reacts, his body moving on its own as he scrambles to loosen the straps holding Bucky in before he hurts himself. The second they loosen even a fraction, Bucky breaks free, scrambling rapidly backward off of the bench, his back slamming into the wall behind them. Steve tries to catch him but Bucky pulls his arm away, and god, it feels like a stab to the heart to watch Bucky curl on himself like a wounded animal.

Honeysuckles Growing on the Window Sill - 22k, 5 chapters (complete)

Tags: Threesomes, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Relationship Discussions, Fluff and Smut Snippet: Steve’s face turns serious, absolute fondness written in his expression. “Without a doubt in my mind. You were so beautiful for me,” he says, voice turning soft as he tucks a loose strand of Loki’s hair behind their ear. “I really like you, Loki. We like you.”

Lobelias in the Meeting Room - 4k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Light Angst, Fluff and Smut Snippet: Loki follows Steve with their eyes, holding their gaze until Steve comes to a stop near them, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. They regard Bucky with a soft look before capturing his lips, inhaling through their nose as arousal swells in their stomach.

A Threatening Snakeroot (Hidden in the Crowd) - 7.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Club Snippet: As Bucky is led down the hallway, taking an immediate right, Loki directs him over to the side of the bar. There’s a square pedestal off to the side, which was added the same day Bucky received his pillow. A sign on the left of it read, ‘Pet on Display,’ while on the right it said, ‘ Display Only - Do Not Touch.’ It was a nice little spot to watch people come and go, and was close enough to the bar that Val could help keep an eye out for him if Loki and Steve weren't nearby.

Succulent Strawberries, Dangling from the Branches - 1.6k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Fluff and Smut, Domestic, Bookstores Snippet: The warmth of Steve’s breath causes a shiver to travel through Bucky’s back. He lets out a whine upon the slender hand urging him back inside, his legs going into autopilot mode as his doms tower over him. The door shuts with an audible click, followed by the window shades rolling down and blocking the evening sunlight.

The First Sprouts of Spring - 1.6k (oneshot-- recently switched to complete since my brain had other ideas back in 2021)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Fluff and Smut, Cuddling & Snuggling Snippet: As Steve steps onto the porch for a few pieces of wood, Loki strolls over to the closet and takes out some blankets. They return to find Steve rearranging the furniture, pushing the two couches together, creating a square hollow. They promptly hand the stack of blankets to Steve at his instruction, then head back to check up on Bucky.

#stucky #stucky au #stucky fanfic #stevebucky fanfic #stucky masterlist #modern au #fic masterlist #bloom!verse #includes Steve x Bucky x Loki under the cut #dom steve #sub bucky #writing tag

[ravarui]

Ravarui is an independent multi-fandom multi-muse RP blog.

The blog is private/mutuals only and highly selective Personals do not interact, unless you got an RP Sideblog

Written and loved by Akki (she/her - 30y/o - germany)

Icons were made by @alyafae

Short overview of my muses as well as my rules under read more (in case the link doesn't work)

Shanks is currently my most active muse, so be prepared for a lot of One Piece content on this blog

Links:Rules - Muse list - Memes - Wishlist - Headcanons - Mains & Exclusives

Muses on this blog are currently:

Tony Stark from the MCU Red Haired Shanks from One Piece (Manga/HC-based) John Marston from Red Dead Redemption 2 Cersei Lannister from Game of Thrones (book based with some show influence)

Request only:

Jaime Lannister from Game of Thrones (Book based with some show influence)

Arthur Morgan from Red Dead Redemption 2

Morzan from Inheritance Cycle (Heavily HC-based)

Disclaimer: This is a multimuse blog for muses of various fandoms. I am up to date to everything regarding all the muses I have on this blog, so this blog is NOT going to be spoiler free.

Recent spoilers, for example in regards to the latest One Piece Chapters, will be tagged however.

This blog will contain mature and triggering content, such as murder, robbery, kidnapping, mentions of slavery etc. Especially when my Red Dead Redemption muses are involved. I will tag triggering content like "murder tw" for example.

1) No Godmodding

If you do it, I’ll contact you and ask you not to do it again and change the part in the reply. If you do it regulary you will be blocked.

2) Portrayal

My Tony Stark is mostly based on the MCU since I have little to no knowledge about the comics. His relationship with Pepper is exclusive with @alyafae version, since we developed our headcanons together over the years and there is no way to seperate them by now.

Everything that happens in Movie Red is irrelevant for my portrayal of Shanks and will be treated as AU. So please do not assume that he raised Uta, unless we discussed it beforehand, because my version does NOT know her.

His backstory is heavily headcanon based and in my version he was NOT found in a treasure chest as a baby by Roger!

Post Time-skip Shanks has a tattoo that looks like this

In the verse where he is married to Makino he wears his wedding ring around a thin chain around his neck, and he keeps the ring hidden under his shirt. No one except his crew and the people of Fuschia know about their marriage. Please do not assume your muse knows about it, unless we talk about it before. I am more than fine with muses finding out about it over the course of threads! It just has to come naturally.

Arthur and John stay mostly true to canon. Arthur is mostly based on the high honor version, because that's how I play him in the game. John is mostly neutral, but leans towards high honor, can however also act more low honor, depending on the situation/muses

3) This blog is 18+ and mun is 28+

I will not write with anyone under 18, since I myself am in my thirties now and it just makes me uncomfortable writing with minors. Preferably people who follow this blog are 21+

4) Shipping:

Shipping is always welcome, no matter what kind of ship. If we're mutuals and you would like to ship our muses in whatever way, don't hesitate in approaching me. Chances are I ship them already as well anyway.

I am multiship in regards to all of my muses. The only exception is my Tony Stark muse when it comes to shipping with Pepper. That is exclusive with @alyafae

I also won't ship Steve and Tony. If you are a Steve Rogers blog and send something shippy in a romantic or smutty way Tony will not react in a positive way and will make fun of him for it.There are only two people who are excluded to this rule.

5) Triggers:

I have personally no triggers and I am willing to RP very dark themes as well. The only topic I will not touch is animal abuse. Otherwise everything is fair game.

If we write dark/triggering themes I require plotting/ooc talks! I do not want to make my RP partner uncomfortable.

Should we write something dark and you notice that you can’t bring yourself to write this theme anymore or feel in any way uncomfortable with the way it’s going: Please tell me immediately so we can talk and drop it if you need it.

You never have to worry when you bring something like this up. The well being of my RP partner when writing highly triggering and dark subjects is my main concern.

6) Activity:

I have a personal life and RPing is a hobby and not my job.

I try my best to do my drafts, but I don’t always have muse for them and some drafts take me longer than others.

Mains/Exclusives get priority most of the time.

So please be patient. You’re welcome to send me a small reminder if I didn’t reply in two weeks. Tumblr loves to eat my notifications and on top of that I have the attention span of a squirrel sometimes and also tend to forget to draft replies.

7) OC’s:

I am OC friendly, but picky when it comes to interacting/following them. If you have no about page I will not follow at all. No arguing. If you have one, I'll read through it and if I can see our muses interacting I'll follow. Otherwise I wont. It's nothing personal.

8) Duplicates:

I adore duplicates! I love exploring all kinds of shenanigans our muses can come up with, if there are two of them.

9) Memes:

This blog is private/mutuals only. It’s a personal preference so I can keep my blog tidy. Memes are open for everyone, even non-mutuals, unless stated otherwise in the tags.

My memes don't have an experiation date and it doesn't matter when I reblogged one. If you want to send something in, feel free to explore my meme tag and send whatever interests you. Spamming memes is also encouraged.

You're always welcome to turn asks into threads! Doesn't matter if we already have a lot of them going or not. It's always encouraged.

10) I wont accept asks like: Do you want to RP with me?

If I am following you it’s a 100% indication that I want to write with you and explore the chemistry between our muses.

If I am not following you and you send me such an ask it will be ignored. If you truly want to write something then come to me with an idea or send me a meme. They are always open unless stated otherwise.

11) This rule applies to ALL blogs that follow me (especially personal blogs)

If you reblog my roleplays when you are NOT involved in them, I will message you and ask you to delete it from your blog. If you don’t do this you will be BLOCKED without a further warning.

12) If I see you posting a lot of callouts and drama I will block you. I am to old to deal with this stuff

13) My IM is reserved for mutuals only. So if you have any question send them into my askbox.

Rules will be updated

#mun talks #DONT REBLOG #pinned post

[wrathbites]

Moments

So I mentioned previously that I'd be challenging myself to keep the writing muse going (definitely a must in between the main oneshots) for the vampire verse. Figured I might as well share the list I'll be working through, slowly but surely and out of order lol. Under the cut because there's 115 of them, completed ones scored out & linked. Feel free to send some in, if you want.

Afterlife

Agony

Alarm

Ambush

Armour

Attention

Audience

Believe

Birthday

Bite

Bitter

Blade

Blood

Blur [x]

Boxes

Broken [x]

Chains

Change

Child

Chocolate

Command

Confession

Confusion

Cool

Cry

Danger

Dark

Death

Delicious

Diary

Empty

Endless

Eyes

Final

Fire

First [x]

Fool

Footprints

Found

Gentle

Ghost

Gone

Goodbye

Headache

Heartbeat

Hide

History

Hold [x]

Home

Hope

Hunger

Hurt

Kiss

Laughter

Learn

Letter

Lies

Locked

Lost

Love

Luck

Mad

Mark

Melody

Memories

Monster

Motion [x]

Naked (Vulnerable) [x]

Need

Never

Normandy

Nostalgia [x]

Now

Numb [x]

One

Package

Picture

Power

Prey

Punishment

Red

Rest

Return

Rules

Running [x]

Safe

Shake

Sharp

Shine

Silence

Sky

Soft

Soul

Space

Stars

Stop

Stronger

Sunrise [x]

Sunset

Survive

Sweet

Thousand [x]

Tomorrow

Torn

Uncertain

Vision

Wait

Walk

Want

Wash

Whispers

Wish

Words

Wrong

Young

#Sunlight and Stardust moments

[outofangband]

Extended Musings Part Two: First Meeting With Sauron and second meeting with Morgoth

Extended Musings Part One: Maedhros’s Capture and First Time Brought Before Morgoth 

These are a collection of my thoughts as I prepare to write more early Maedhros in Angband content! Combines other headcanons I have but there’s too many relevant ones to link here so here’s my masterlist of headcanons/meta and  my masterlist of everything. 

note: I am autistic and Maedhros in Angband and the aftermath is an area I am extremely fixated on. While these notes probably are enjoyable..or at least angsty for others to read I understand they probably aren’t everyone’s style since they’re just basically infodumps of headcanons I have as for this period (there is not much textual evidence or at least less so than the previous extended musing)

so I go through lots of scenarios for which I do have multiple answers to. Or like, ideas based on what each answer is. Feel free to ask me to elaborate on any!!! (please) My brain is a vast, infinite tree where each question contains its own verse I have many thoughts on.

Second meeting with Melkor

Maedhros would not have been trusted to behave. Despite having been beaten, whipped, and starved over the course of several days he is still defiant to the point of suicidal recklessness. He is bound to his chair, arms manacled to the sides. Melkor sits opposite to him. There is a long silence. Melkor knows that Maedhros is biting his tongue.

Almost certainly some comment about Fëanor’s skills with his words and is Melkor going to be blessed with some of this legendary talent? Surely his eldest son has inherited much of the great orator’s abilities.

“Should we parlay as planned, my little failed king?” 

Deprived of proper sleep and water, Maedhros’s voice is rather hoarse, his replies are curt and cold but he cannot stop the tremble in his hands as he is fixed with the terrible, almost hypnotic gaze of the Dark Lord, made worse of course by the crown he is wearing.

In the first set of extended musings I talk about how Maedhros feels seeing the Silmarils, being so horrifically close yet at the same time farther than ever from fulfilling the Oath. So I won’t ramble on it too much here other than to say that Melkor finds this little predicament incredibly amusing.

The first time Morgoth’s burnt hand grips Maedhros’s throat and shoves him against the wall, the sound of chains rattling around the room and the light causing Maedhros’s eyes to water after only twelve or so hours in the darkness. The momentary victory Maedhros had felt from getting a rise out of the Dark Vala fades away to terror when he sees glittering eyes and sharp teeth and feels the primordial power he’s trapped in. Moringotto’s touch lingers on his skin long after he is released and slumps to the ground, gasping for breath. Melkor observes him coolly before ordering him to be taken back to his cell until he is called for again. The order is of course given in a language that Maedhros has little to no knowledge of and it’s quite frightening to not know what’s being said of your fate.

He’s alone in his cell again, wearing rags, if anything, dark bruises forming on his neck and unable to forget the feeling of that hand.

(Then of course he will learn that Morgoth’s true cruelty often came when he could momentarily act in ways not immediately destructive or violent but that comes later.)

First meeting with Sauron:

The first one is brief. The Maia has not been given particular orders as to the prized Noldo’s treatment other than that he is important to Melkor’s...plans. Mairon too has projects he intends to use an elf of such a rich bloodline and heritage in. He’s a scientist and sorcerer and business will come before pleasure. Curiosity gets the better of him however. He stalks through the more isolated stretch of the dungeons where Maedhros is being held. Spends several minutes simply lurking in the shadows. Perhaps Maedhros glimpses a spark in the gloom beyond the barred doors. Perhaps he was left in a cell with barred doors for this purpose And so other dark creatures could taunt and harass him.

Which of course they do. The high king of the Noldor is quite a spectacle and though there are strict orders regarding his treatment (not, you understand, out of kindness or mercy but because Melkor is quite possessive of what he sees as his trophy, stolen from Fëanáro like he did the Silmarils)

Orcs and balrogs come by to throw taunts at him. Even Gothmog himself is not above gloating or worse. Laughing as Maedhros makes a move towards the barred door as though an animal provoked into violence.

Humiliating the captured king is a favorite hobby of several of the guards and servants of the fortress and it takes some time before Maedhros, stubborn like his father, gets a hold of his temper and his pride and stops rising to the bait. Which he is pleased to learn often infuriates his tormentors more when they get no reaction.

The pride and will of the Noldor is quite amusing to poke at and their High King is a particularly delightful example. 

The Maia approaches, fair formed and glowing, one of the brightest points in this dark place and Maedhros is filled with profound dread.  He has perhaps heard stories of the former prodigy of Aulë who is now the lieutenant of Angband and mastermind behind some of the most horrific of projects cooked up in the fortress. Perhaps he has only heard whispers and rumors. He does not know what to expect.

Mairon’s initial meeting with Maedhros is almost like a viewing of a particularly useful material before it is bought. He is not harmed, perhaps not even touched beyond light manipulations of his limbs so the Maia can see from all angles. Scrutinized. Perhaps dark hints are made of the uses that the sorcerer has for such a specimen. How would a Noldo of noble birth survive the conditions and procedures that the Lieutenant has in mind. So many horrific experiments I, the writer, have.

Perhaps he is held still by whispered words of a spell, perhaps it is merely the terror that holds him there. 

It is relatively early on he is given his first symbol of imprisonment. perhaps it is the first brand, some archaic symbol of evil that Melkor has claimed for himself, as well as the one that Sauron inflicts upon all captive elves for organizational purposes. . Then there is an iron collar that will mark his skin long after it is removed for the last time, as do the manacles so often on his wrists and ankles. The collar is not worn by all captive elves, for those who slave in the mines and caves there is of course the risk they will use it in suicide attempts. 

For Maedhros it is primarily to make the process of dragging him from place to place, torment to torment easier and of course it is also for humiliation, the proud king of the Noldor, collared like an unruly hound. 

The branding of such an important prisoner is entertainment for some of the crueler servants. 

Later he will receive more; the star of his father’s house, the word kinslayer in more than one tongue (author’s note: two fics about this are posted!), the crown of Stolen jewels and more, all etched, carved or burned into his skin.

But this will come later. For now, he is marked as all thralls are with an additional marking to indicate that his fate and treatment is under the direct control of Melkor.

#Maedhros #Melkor #Mairon #Morgoth #The Silmarillion #Sauron #In the Iron Hell #musing and meta #blind you be morgoth bauglir #subtle be my blade

[chainedbystories-moved]

INDIE, SEMI-ACTIVE, LOW-ACTIVITY, & PRIVATE MULTIFANDOM MULTIPLE MUSE BLOG ( featuring 50+ canon muses from various fandoms )! Written / Chained ( typed / penned ) by Judd / Striker. This blog is open to all cross-overs, original characters, duplicates of same muses, etc. This blog is open to mutual and non-mutual! 18+ advisory for NSFW content ( depression, violence, dark themes )! The muses will be based off their canon material and headcanons! Fandoms are tagged on the following: Photos, Headcanons, Asks, and Roleplay Replies.

Updated as of 10/10/2022: To Do List & Still Work in Progress [Planning on finishing all the to do & asks & starters & drafts within a couple weeks / at latest by end of November to take off WIP on the blog title ] Rp Status: Semi-active due to setting this blog up 100% & working overtime at law firm

Starters: 53 | Asks: 85 | Drafts: 97 [WORKING ON EVERYTHING NOW]

Hello there, my name is Judd/Striker! I’m 30+ years old and have been writing here on and off for 10+ years. This is a multi-muse blog with characters featured from various fandoms which will be listed below! Below are links to my mobile friendly rules page, muses roster, interest checker, and various things!

Rules | Mun’s CARRD | Muses Roster List | Interest Checker | RP Tracker | Tags Finder | NSFW BLOG | Mains & Exclusives | Customized Verses | Permanent Starter Call Original Characters blog: @saskanaworld (Under HEAVY construction)

Fandoms I have muses in:

Mob Psycho 100, Bungo Stray Dogs, Pokemon, Osomatsu-San, Borderlands, Attack on Titan, Overwatch, Persona, Yu-Gi-Oh, A Matter of Life and Death, Dangan Ronpa, Ace Attorney, DRAMAtical Murder, Bendy and the Ink Machine, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Distrust / Beta Dangan Ronpa, No Game, No Life, Five Nights At Freddy’s, RWBY, Monster Kingdom: Jewel Summoners, High Rise Invasion, One Piece, Demon Slayer, Critical Role/The Legend of Vox Machina, Diabolik Lovers, and Vanitas no Carte.

Don’t hesitate to reach out to me about anything! Need help with something? I got you! Need a friend to talk to? I’m here! Need to talk something out with me? I’ll gladly talk it out! Communication is the key! I’m open to any discussion and questions!

Let’s have fun roleplaying, enjoy ourselves, and make this a de-stressing place for all of us!

#pinned post #(please do not reblog!) #[ you can like this post if you read the rules and everything if you want to just to let me know ]

[ladynorbert]

WIP Wednesday

It’s actually Thursday now but that’s because I slept. Anyway, the very sweet @thejeeperswife​ tagged me to share an excerpt from my current fic WIP.

Which then begs the question... which one? See, my brain - after languishing in existential crisis mode for a few weeks, which has not been fun let me tell you - finally decided to buckle down and get to work on a long-overdue fic. However, the side effect of this fic coming to life is having two other fics decide they also want attention. Ugh. Two of them are Dragon Age and one is a relatively obscure PC game that probably none of my followers have played (it’s called Detectives United so feel free to tell me if I’m wrong). This isn’t even counting the currently-in-progress installment of Skyhold Academy Yearbook or the bafflingly dormant FMA and Beetlejuice fics. (Please, please, do not let them wake up right now...)

Anyway, the upshot is that I’ll do a small excerpt from each of these. Two of them are currently unpublished, but I’ll link to the one that is. As for tagging, I don’t know who’s done this lately, but if you have a WIP and want to share a bit, consider yourself tagged!

From Doubling Down, the DA AU featuring Inquisitors belonging to myself and @tk31085​:

“How was the Hissing Wastes? The report Victoria sent with the messenger bird who brought the schematic was… brief.” He chuckled. “I got the impression that there wasn’t much to describe.”

“It was actually quite beautiful, in its own empty way,” Cassandra mused. “I have never seen clearer night skies than those in the desert. I’m sure the Inquisitors will brief the council as soon as they’ve finished bathing – I know Victoria particularly wished to scrub the sand out of her hair. I thought I would come and check on you in the meantime.”

“I appreciate it.” He did, too, which she in turn appreciated; Cassandra knew that what Cullen had endured, in his efforts to throw off his lyrium chains and finally be free of his past, had been difficult. She would have wanted to help him regardless, but the fact that he was so clearly grateful for the help made it much less of a chore. Not for the first time, she wondered if the ex-Templar was anything like Anthony might have become had he lived past the age of twenty.

This next bit is from Right Through Me, the Detectives United AU that probably doesn’t make much sense to anybody but me. For some context, Agent Brown has just come out second best in a fistfight with “Dark Brown,” his own doppelganger from another dimension (and yes, that actually makes sense in the context of the games):

“He doesn’t seem to be bleeding as far as I can tell,” James reported, letting Alice delicately bathe Brown’s face with water. “My best guess, anyway.”

After a moment or two of this, the patient gave a sort of cough, and tried to sit up. “Easy, Brown,” said James, forcing him to lie down again. “You’re okay. Cracked your head on the stones though, so don’t be in a rush to get up. How do you feel?”

“...confused,” came the considered reply. “I just had a fight with myself and I lost.”

“Well, your sense of humor is intact, at least. That’s something.”

“Where’s Dark Brown?”

“We had to let him get away,” James admitted, “so he wouldn’t realize we were onto him. Alice told us which one was the real you. Assuming he was telling the truth about where he was going, he’s in your rooms, but Shade’s got him under surveillance.”

“Oh, swell. He’s going to steal my collection of vintage paper clips,” Brown replied lightly. Alice giggled. “Are you three all right?”

And finally, here’s a snippet from Dragon Scrolls: The Skyrim Inquisition, my Modern Girl in Thedas blatant self-insert which is also a crossover with Skyrim because just putting myself into one game universe wasn’t confusing enough for me. It also stars @tk31085​ and @auroraborealia​ as themselves, because if I have to go through this much absurdity, I’m bringing my two closest friends along for the ride:

“Lady Morrigan promises that you will be able to return to your world exactly the way you left it,” said Josephine, “and in a timely enough manner that your absence will not be easily observed by anyone.”

“Narnia time. Okay, I think we can work with that.” I paused. “Exactly why was I chosen for this position, anyway? I mean, there are a lot of other people who probably would have been better.”

“We needed someone who is well-versed in the lore of both Thedas and Tamriel, which narrowed down the field somewhat,” said Cullen. “We also needed someone with a strong affinity for dragons, as your friend there suggests you have - that was a condition laid by Arngeir, so I imagine he can explain it better when you reach High Hrothgar.”

“And you still went with a moderately broken middle-aged fiction writer?”

“Well, we reviewed the assorted possibilities, and discussed them with some of the Inquisitor’s other companions,” Leliana replied. “In the end we drew a name - your name - out of a hat.” She paused. “And by we, I really mean Varric, and it occurs to me that he might have cheated.”

#wip wednesday #dragon age #skyrim #detectives united

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Twenty-Eight: In the Mirror ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hatake Kakashi ] [ SasuHina, bullying ] [ Verse: Divine Light ] [ AO3 Link ]

No...no, no no!

Tennis shoes slap against the sidewalk, an ache building in her side as she runs. The school is blocks away by now, but they’re still chasing - she can hear them, just a breath behind. She has to find someplace to hide...someplace to duck into and lose them…!

Her school bag jostles against her hip, and she’s just about to collapse when she rounds another corner. She doesn’t even stop to look at the door, the shop’s front - anything. She just pushes the entrance open and settles it back shut before hiding behind the nearest rack of shelves. Her breath is labored, the stitch in her side making every gasp of air painful. Pale eyes stare between the layers of goods at the windows that allow a view out into the street.

A few seconds pass, and then a group of teenagers spill out from the alleyway she’d come from. They stutter for a moment before their ringleader points in several directions, scattering them in their search.

With a gasp, Hinata crouches down...but never hears the door.

No one comes in.

Shaking in both exhaustion and relief, she cups her face in her hands, knees still bent.

Well...so much for making a good impression...the last few weeks (her first) at her new school have been...lackluster. And then a rumor suddenly snowballs, and she finds herself being hunted down by upperclassmen with a vengeance.

She needs to head home, but...well, maybe she’ll just...wait a little longer. Make sure they’re gone. The walk from here will take her a while, and she doesn’t want to bother her aunt, calling and asking to be picked up.

Hopefully the staff of...whatever this place is won’t mind her loitering.

Eventually standing upright on shaky knees, Hinata finally takes a moment to look over her surroundings with more attention to detail. It’s not a particularly large place. From the door is an aisle that leads to a back counter. Flanking it on either side are racks of shelves, a bit like a shoe store. But rather than shoes, there are bins of...stuff.

Brow furrowing, she reaches in and pulls out some odd little...trinket. It must be some kind of...antique store? This all looks like old, useless junk. No wonder the place sounds empty.

“Um...h-hello…?”

Her voice, soft, seems gargantuan in the empty, silent space, and Hinata can’t help but flinch. This place is open, right? The door was unlocked, she didn’t force her way in. Maybe they’re...on break?

Hesitating a moment, Hinata just...wanders a bit, having nothing else to do - she is far from eager to be heading back outside. Beyond the shelves, the place seems a bit...empty. That is, until she looks up.

Even more...stuff hangs from the ceiling. Strange lanterns, chains, and what look to be weird...tools? She’s really not sure. The more she sees of this place, the odder it all seems. What is it…?

Following the aisle, she approaches the counter. It looks old, almost like...a bar? Thick, scarred wood covers the entire surface, looking older than she is. Behind it is a door that she presumes leads to some kind of back room. Storage, maybe? A dated looking cash register sits to one side, receipts stabbed atop a keeper. There’s a ledger open that she sheepishly averts her eyes from, and...wait, is that an abacus…? They aren’t actually using that...are they?

...and that’s when she sees it.

At first glance, she assumes it’s a mirror. It’s twice her width and another half her height, framed in what looks to be...crystal? It’s pretty, but...that isn’t what earns it a second glance.

...nothing is reflecting in it.

Hinata gives it a suspicious glance. If it’s not a mirror, then...what is it? Some kind of...gag prop? Adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she slowly approaches. No matter the angle she looks into it, it doesn’t show anything. Not her, not the shop behind her...it’s just a weird, empty void.

...it almost looks like…

Unable to help her curiosity, Hinata spares a hesitant hand from her bag strap. Slowly, she moves her aloft fingers toward the surface, twitching as she almost fears the possibility of what she might feel once she makes contact.

“Don’t touch that.”

Eeping, Hinata brings her hand back to her chest like she was shocked, spinning around and feeling her bag flap against her hip at her momentum. Coming around the end of the counter is a boy that looks about her age. Dark hair is wild, eyes just as black. And yet...that’s funny...for a moment they almost looked…?

“What are you doing in here?”

“I, um...I-I was just…?” She flounders for words. “...I’m sorry. I thought the place was open, the - the door was unlocked, so -?”

“Yeah, we’re open. Didn’t hear you come in.”

Really? With all the panting and slamming of the door she did? “I...I was h...hiding.”

“...hiding.”

“...yeah. Someone was...chasing me, so I just...I came in here. If that’s a problem, I can leave…”

“...wait...you’re a freshman, right?”

“Y...yes?”

“At Konoha high?”

...isn’t that the only school in this town? “I...yeah, I...I go there.”

“Me too. Sasuke Uchiha.”

“Hinata...Hyūga.”

“You must be new...I didn’t recognize you. Konoha’s not the biggest.”

“Yes, I just t-transferred this year.” Feeling a bit anxious, Hinata quickly licks her lips. “I...should I leave?”

“No, you’re fine. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t in here to pilfer something.”

She can’t help a frown. Steal this junk? Why? “Um...no.”

“Who was chasing you?”

“It’s...a long story. Apparently I did something I shouldn’t have, that...I wasn’t aware of. Some...clique thing I intruded on. And um...a few people got mad and just...took off after me. This was the first place I could go in to try and hide.”

It’s Sasuke’s turn to frown. “...you okay?”

“...honestly, I don’t know.” Hinata wilts. “...I don’t know what will - what will happen tomorrow. I doubt it’ll just blow over...I didn’t mean to do anything wrong!

“This town has a lot of unspoken rules and weird superstitions. It’s no wonder you stepped on someone’s toes as an outsider. Try not to worry about it.”

Something about the word ‘outsider’ makes her stomach tighten into a knot. “...right.”

“I’ll try and step in if I can. My family’s pretty big in town - maybe they’ll listen if I just explain.”

“I...t-thank you.”

“Sasuke, what did I tell you about -?”

Jumping, Hinata flinches as the door behind the counter opens, and a man steps through. And boy, if Hinata thought this shop was strange...that’s nothing compared to what she assumes is the one who owns it.

Flyaway grey hair - even wilder than the boy’s - leans to one side of his head. And yet he looks no older than thirty. An angry scar cuts down through one eyelid, the iris beneath milky with blindness. A kerchief is tied over the lower half of his face. And his outfit looks like he’s cosplaying someone’s Dungeons and Dragons character. A long coat of grey stitched with a mural-like scene she can only see snippets of, a white shirt covered by a black vest, and trousers (also black) that look like they belong a century or two in the past.

“...ah. A customer. And a boring one, if that look tells me anything,” the man muses. “You hardly look the type to appreciate my wares...what are you doing in here?”

“Leave her alone, Kakashi - she’s ducking out from some trouble.”

“Trouble? I don’t need any more of that. Shoo, off with you,” Kakashi, as he’s apparently called, orders with a wave of his hand.

“Shove off,” Sasuke mutters. “She’s fine. Just escaping some bullies. Not your brand of trouble, master.”

That earns a quizzical look from Hinata to the Uchiha. Did...did he just call that man master…?

“Then she can be your responsibility. If she breaks something - and I’ll know - it’s coming out of your wages, boy.”

“She’s not going to break anything, for crying out loud!” Approaching Hinata, Sasuke puts an arm around her shoulders, guiding her toward the front of the shop. “Not like anything out here is that important, anyway…”

“I heard that!”

Sasuke scowls. “Don’t mind him...he’s just...well, Kakashi. And Kakashi is a hard man to understand. He’s been my teacher for a few years now, and I still don’t know heads or tails of him.”

“He’s your...teacher?”

“Er...yeah. Sort of in a...vocational sense,” Sasuke replies, tone suddenly hesitant and vague.

“...should I go…?”

He sighs. “...that might be best. Want me to walk you home?”

“Er -?”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Kakashi calls, earning a glance back from them both. A strange object is held to the ceiling light, a spyglass in his hand as he examines it. And beside him, seemingly hopped up from the floor atop the counter, is what looks like a strange little...dog. “You’re on the clock, Sasuke.”

“Can’t I just stay late?”

“And cut into my evening? I think not.”

The boy gives another grimace. “...sorry.”

“No, it...it’s okay. I’ll be fine. But, um...can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What...is this place?”

“...antique shop. Kinda sorta. It’s...hard to explain.”

“And that weird mirror?”

Sasuke seems to hiccup for a moment. “...mirror?”

“Or, I think it’s a mirror...I couldn’t s-see anything in it. Is it painted black or something…?”

“It, uh...the glass is missing.”

“...what?”

“Yeah. It’s...here for repair. And the backing is black. That’s what you saw.”

Hinata gives him a skeptical glance. It’s pretty obvious he’s hiding something, but...well, she’s pushing her luck all things considered. “...could I...come back sometime?”

“I guess so...why? This place is boring.”

“...I think it’s neat. And, well...I haven’t really made any friends yet. So maybe I could...talk to you again. If - if that’s okay.”

He blinks. “...I guess so.”

“Just make sure to buy something next time,” Kakashi offers from behind them.

Hinata can’t help a small laugh. “Well...I better try to get home. Thank you for letting me h-hide in here.”

“Glad you’re okay. Be safe going home.”

“Well...I’ll try.” Giving a little wave, she peers out of the door and - upon finding the coast clear - heads out and walks speedily the way she came.

Sasuke watches her go, a hint of a furrow to his brow.

“...be careful with that one.”

“What?”

Kakashi, eyes on the counter, glances up. Only this time...they’ve completely changed color. A bright cyan iris seems a bit clouded with heavy thoughts, the other still blind. “...she’s not what she appears...or what she thinks she is. But, I wonder...hm…”

“What?”

“...it’s nothing.” Abandoning his task, Kakashi spares a hand to his little canine companion, which sparks as it pants happily. The little bolts weave around Kakashi’s fingers, earning a chuckle. “You’ve got chores to do, boy. Hop to it, go on.”

“But...what she said about the mirror - did she really -?”

“You can still see into it, can’t you?”

“...yeah. It’s just...a mirror.”

“...a story for another time. Go on - those chores won’t do themselves!”

“Ugh, all right...I thought we’d practice ven today.”

“Not until your chores are done and my relic is finished. The buyer should be here in an hour. Then we can get to work on your ven, boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

“Yes. And I elect not to use it at times. Names shouldn’t be worn out.”

“...whatever you say.” With that, Sasuke slips past his teacher into the back room.

Absentmindedly stroking his companion, Kakashi gives the little raijū a glance. “...very interesting. As I always say...no one ends up in here by accident. We’ll have to see what this one brings to the table, hm? Curious...very curious, indeed…”

Beside him, to his eyes, the mirror is indeed black. And yet, to anyone else...it fits its facade perfectly, an exact reflection of the store within its frame.

Curious, indeed.

                                                       .oOo.

     *sweats* So uh...this is yet another crossover with some of my original stuff! Technically it's the same universe as my other fantasy works (which I call Divine Light), but this is a bit of a switch in the timeline. We're in the modern era now!      This is technically a slight reworking of a canon scene IN that story (called Mirror of Dreams). A lot is different in canon, but the general roles are about the same. Runaway bullied girl, weird shop owner, and weird shop owner's apprentice. Only she isn't supposed to meet them QUITE that way, but...well, I don't want to straight up copy my own stuff :'D      Anyway, I had...a very rough day, so...I'm gonna go. Lost a family pet today, and I'm...really wiped from heavy emotions. But I wanted to get this done (and it was a good distraction). For now though, I really need to get some sleep. Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #hatake kakashi #bullying // #divine light [ au ] #365daysofsasuhina

[doom-dreaming]

Kindness Conditioning: Part 1

*throws paper through @cacklefrendly ‘s windows* FIC FIC FIC FIC. I hope you like it. Part 2 is on the way~

Edit: So this is a full little one-shot now, officially set in The Menagerie (aka: Twins’ Pet ‘Verse) about how our sweet little Tiger ended up with the Twins.

Since this is written for a specific person, reader uses he/him pronouns.

(Link to Part 2 here!)

- - - - - - - - - -

Your heart is about to pound out of your chest. They’d just obliterated half the entire camp right in front of your eyes, what are they going to do to you? You physically jump when the tall one—Troy, you think is his name—snaps the flimsy, rusted padlock off the cage door with his massive mechanical hand.

They’re saying something but you can’t hear it, you’re shrinking in on yourself, you want to shut your eyes but you can’t, they’re glued to the glowing swirls on the woman’s arm as she reaches in toward you. You’re sure this is the end, you’re sure this is how you’re going to die—

She never makes contact. She doesn’t grab you, just keeps her hand extended. You sit there, watching for what feels like hours until your pulse becomes a little less frantic and you can put a voice to the movement of her lips: “...you’re okay, we won’t hurt you, you can come out.”

It takes even longer before you muster the courage to do as she suggests. Slowly, agonizingly, you climb out of the cramped cage, shaking and covered in a cold sweat. Still, they don’t touch you or make any sudden movements. You’d seen them before, of course—but not in person. Your previous master (now lying in a pool of his own blood and viscera just a few yards to your left) had shown you the LiveScreams—you saw how they killed with gleeful pleasure—and he’d said he would send you as a sacrifice if you ever misbehaved. It was enough to keep you nearly silent. Here, in front of you, in the flesh, they look deadlier. You swear the air around them is crackling.

“He’s got some cuts,” Troy murmurs to his sister, motioning toward you.

You flinch away, your legs locking, caught between bolting and staying there, frozen in fear. Tyreen raises her hand again and a fearful whine escapes your throat as you see her tattoos shimmer. She shushes you. You brace for the worst—you’re going to be a drained husk on the ground in seconds—but the pain never comes. Instead, you feel a strange tingling in your arm and watch in awe as semi-fresh wounds stitch themselves shut, leaving no mark.

Troy catches your expression with sharp eyes and smirks. “No one told ya she could do that, huh?” He winks. “Best-kept secret.”

You don’t know how to answer, other than brushing your fingers over the newly-healed skin.

- - - - - - - - - -

The COV stronghold is bigger than any settlement you've seen on this sorry planet. That much was apparent from the moment their raiding convoy had pulled up at the gates, but the trek to the twins' personal lodging takes twice as long.

It had taken a few false starts and lots of gentle coaxing for them to get you into their technical and slip a pair of loose chain cuffs around your wrists, but they’re patient with you. Surprisingly so. Every time you stumble over the uneven ground, they're there at your side. When you start to lag behind them, they slow down to walk with you. They don't address you directly, choosing instead to carry on a casual conversation over your head. You don't even try to listen; the adrenaline is giving way to exhaustion. From the heat, from the fear.

You're half-unconscious by the time you drag your feet over the threshold into their home, but a cascade of cold air washes away some of the fatigue. Air conditioning? On Pandora?? The twins usher you through the room, Tyreen nudging your back, Troy tugging at your chained wrists. You let them settle you onto a couch, watching with sleepy awe as Troy crouches and unlocks your bindings. Do they trust you that much? Is this a test?

"You sure that's a good idea?" Tyreen's question mirrors your thoughts.

Her brother responds with a lopsided shrug. "Doesn't look like a runner." He sets the chains aside. "Wouldn't get far anyway."

He's not wrong. You're too tired to run. Besides, they haven't hurt you. Yet. Still, you flinch as Troy rises to his full height, everything in you screaming to cower, to hide. You fight the urge and just sit there trembling instead.

"I'll get some water and somethin' to clean 'em up with," he murmurs as he leaves.

You know the words aren't meant for you, but they pique your interest anyway. Why would they clean you? What do they want you for? All of this is so overwhelming—you'd heard of the COV and their ruthless leaders, but all of it had seemed so distant until they showed up on your literal doorstep, all gunfire and swagger.

Tyreen's fingers in your hair jolt you back to the present, though you can feel the shock of the cool air wearing off into lethargy again. "What's your favorite color?" She muses, rubbing absently at your scalp. "I think red...or maybe orange? What'cha think, Troy? Red or orange? Soft material, for sure..."

He makes a vaguely-affirmative sound as he sits down next to you. Half of you wants to pass out and the other half wants to flee. You know they're dangerous, they have to be, why haven't they done anything to you yet—?

"Yeah, soft is good," Troy agrees. "Never had one this, uh...twitchy before."

You get the sense that you should feel offended, but you're too tired to care. Besides, you are nervous. It's not subtle. They're both so close to you, you'd be stupid not to feel at least a little tense— The cool, wet cloth against your skin makes you jump. They both laugh and you feel heat rush to your face.

“Relax...” Troy purrs, rubbing the cloth in slow circles over your arm. “Just cleanin’ you up a little... You’ve had a...rough day.” He laughs. It’s a little too dark to be friendly.

The twisted humor isn’t lost on you. It’s comforting, in the sickest sense possible. This is the behavior you expected of them. Everything before had been too compassionate, too surreal. At least now you know your fight-or-flight response is justified. Not that any of that matters, currently, because your eyelids are so heavy and the rhythmic motions of Troy’s hand are rocking you gently, lulling you into a complacent daze that feels safe, despite every warning in your brain screaming the opposite.

- - - - - - - - - -

It feels like no more than two minutes have passed by the time you find the strength to open your eyes again, but...something’s...off. You blink away the drowsiness, trying to let your brain catch up and take inventory. New clothes. Clean skin. Cool air. Pieces start to connect, floating together one by one into a fragile string. Raid. Twins. Capture. Release? No... Maybe. You remember Troy wiping the dust from your body— Troy. Troy!

You jolt upward, pushing off the warm surface beneath you, doubly startled when you hear a soft ‘oof’ and feel a metallic hand bracing against your back. “Easy, easy...you’ll crack a rib...” You stare down at Troy, trying to connect the dots. Had you been sleeping on him? “Mine, not yours,” he clarifies, guiding you back down.

You want to resist, but that odd tenderness in how he handles you throws your usual instincts off-course. Another set of hands finds your head as you hesitantly settle back against Troy’s chest.

“You’re safe here,” Tyreen soothes. “Just go back to sleep...” Her voice is so soft, so different from her typical manner of speaking. You let yourself relax just enough to be swayed by Troy’s breathing beneath you. “We’ll take good care of you, don’t worry.”

You almost believe her. Nestled in the warmth of Troy's embrace, with her fingers massaging through your hair...you almost believe her.

****** @corpseyb0nes @afterthedreamer @mischiefsilvertongue @marigold-magpie @tricerathotss @vanderlinde-exe @ayilachan @zipp0flare @luxury-of-insanity @nikyri-reaper @argentineanweaboo @vanillabuttercreamm @anni000001 @imchaoticnerd 

#borderlands fanfiction #my writing #kindness conditioning #aka: cackle's kink #also collars #the calypso twins #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #reader insert #calypso twins x reader #but not in a shippy way #per se #another pet for the menagerie

[calamityk8]

Alice Warped

“I have wandered to and fro… I have met so many diverse characters along the way; perhaps you can tell me… whatever is the point of it all?” ~ Alice

“No one can decipher your dream, child… but you.” ~ Cheshire Cat

♧♧♧♧♧♤♤♤♤♤♡♡♡♡♤♤♤♤♧♧♧♧

Alice warped to planet earth

Wormhole paths, what weaved her birth

Lost her way far beneath the dirt;

Came to lose her sense of inner worth

Onward and steady, life went from bad to worse,

Broke her crown and drained her purse

Trauma’s story she would rehearse

With recovery’s tracks derailing her hearse

"All that pain?" Writes giggle’s verse

"Experience’s story? Rich and diverse?

Imperfection is wisdom’s nurse

You must find your blessings within the curse"

So soon Alice faced down many roads

Seeking Princes, kissing toads

Reminders of abuse bestowed

Depression’s weight a heavy load.

Met some cats along the way

Bent on leading her astray

Chaos ruled and fed the fray

Fear of life rewrote the play

All her colors drained to gray

Til Alice began to rue each day

Unbearable had become her stay

Her greatest wish? To run far away

Vilified and called insane

Scorned by those with lesser brains

Shape shifting her name from the mouths of lames

Detached, the witness she became

Everything morphed into a redundant game

Alice would do anything just to ease the pain

To lose the shame, reframe the blame

Find a reason to remain

She sought out wisdom to feel sane again

The missing link to mend her broken chains

Boots to walk the muddied lanes

Forgiveness to remove dirt’s shameful stains

Occasionally she would play the Queen

Or mend the Hatter’s broken seams

Partook in tea with Rabbit Velveteen;

In dark times, she served the Jabberwocky’s scream.

Could she awaken from this dream?

Relight the brightness in her beam?

What was the point? What could it mean?

Was anything what at first it seemed?

Seeking out overdue explanations

For earth’s apparent aberrations

Vanity’s precarious aspirations

Intellectual masturbations

Planet Insanity’s pure derangements

Captain Obvious’ entertainments

Ego’s conscious rearrangements

Infatuation with Id’s internal engagements

Addictive emotional equations

Relations stuck on sense sensations

She would only accept with true elation

Real love without chains of predication

Commitment must be partnered with Dedication.

Every heart’s slow burning fuse

Is a living story shown through inner muse

When it’s only about the moves you choose,

Some you win and some you lose

Short on compassion, long in tooth?

Fought Wisdom’s hard-won bitter truth?

Dogma’s default is what fools forsooth

Compassion is the fruit of experience’s proof

Wisdom is paid from mistakes past-dues

Life is found within a spectrum of hues

It is not a gift to be abused

So shift your focus and write new cues

So remind the dark how you've always shined

History cannot itself unwind

We are all the deaf leading the blind

Unless you have an open mind

What you seek is what you'll find

Eternity can scarce enough remind

Of the home that you have left behind

With a diamond’s beauty, from coal refined.

#alice in wonderland #alice in hell

[tenebriism]

The young woman sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her, tripping occasionally on roots or skirt. Everything had happened so fast. The exiled King of the Desert had been planning his revenge in the years she had spent in the convent, not willingly; high high in the Hebra mountains. Tonight was supposed to be her return home, but it seemed fate would have her escape one prison for another. Her guards were struck down by monsters, and she had fled into the cover of darkness. Not that such a thing was truly her ally. No, that belonged to whoever was chasing her like mist - she only caught glimpses. Glowing red eyes, the gleam of a weapon.

Perhaps this was her end, blundering helplessly through brush and haunted by an unstoppable force, letting her run like prey. Like a game. Unfit and ill clothed, Zelda soon knew she could run no further. Turning to face her Demise, it was even closer- no... he was. A young man, sharp featured and tall, but devoid of light. Pitch all over his form, except... for those eyes.

Tears streamed from her own, blurring her vision. Why was this familiar? She recalled a smaller shadow, upset by something, silver hair vanished in this defence mechanism. Eyes like ripened apples he so loved. Her heart clenched. His sword was drawn. What happened? Had they truly grown into this cursed roles they once so feared?

Voice shaking and quiet, Zelda chanced it.

"...M-Mal...?"

Unprompted Ask - [ ALWAYS ACCEPTING ] ;; @legendarylullaby , DARK LINK .

IS THIS NOT WHAT HE HAD BEEN RAISED TO DO ?

Perhaps Dark Link's upbringing, and the prioritization of his duties, had not progressed as SMOOTHLY as the Dark King had preferred, but patience and resilience were oft rewarded in due time. Faced with abandonment -- BETRAYAL -- the wayward shade, with nowhere else to turn, had crawled his way back to his Master, begging in a notably IMPROVED manner of speech for another chance.

--- who was he, benevolent when appropriate, to DENY a willing pawn the opportunity to PROVE himself ?

The crunch of leaves 'neath war torn boots drowns out the laborious breathing as he PURSUES his target, blade drawn and gleaming 'neath the moonlight. Smoke rose into the air in the distance, telling of the motions of PLANS made well before this fateful evening, the destruction of livelihoods and HOMES long established in full bloom. Yet, the shade was not to partake in such mundane actions. No, ANYONE could lay waste to a building, or set aflame a structure.

Where he would prove his loyalty, and commence the bearing of FRUIT from the Dark King's tireless efforts, would be in the PURSUIT, and hopeful capture, of one Princess Zelda.

" Pathetic . . . " Tip of sword brushes 'gainst her neck, tilting her chin upwards so she could look him in the eye. " I know not who this ' MAL ' is. I only go by that which my Master has named me--- DARK LINK. " His gaze possesses none of the warmth, none of the AFFECTION, he had shown her in their childhood. Now, there was naught but an austere COLDNESS . . . a lack of familiarity and CARE for the frightened royal he had once been BEST FRIENDS with.

" Up, onto your feet. We should not keep his Majesty waiting. "

#legendarylullaby #eissibee #[ here you go!~ pain and suffering galore lmfao ] #muse ;; DARK LINK ( ANSWERED ASK ) #muse ;; DARK LINK ( VERSE . CHAINED )

[the-expatriate]

[Mobile Specified Verses Page! - Updated]

[Specific Verses]

Pari can be placed within almost any setting, usually what works best with the person she’ll be interacting with. However, there are a few instances where in which this be specified. Again, please specify if you’d like a particular verse if one of these takes your fancy, or I’ll just go with the default one which leaves it open to interpretation.

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Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap:  An Alternative Placement. This particular period of time takes place a few years later. Pari has established herself as a bonafide Information Broker, who often takes on freelance assignments for a price. She often works alongside DL (https://pink-haired-chronicles.tumblr.com/), and she is known to travel far and wide for her clients. In some cases, she is hired permanently by some..

Note: Any interactions pertaining to Pari in the Borderlands Universe are held in this above AU.

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Of Measures and Pints: Pari’s standard placement. Where she broke free of her old life and disappeared. Starting again in a quiet little place, in a rowdy as hell bar. That isn’t to say that she doesn’t rely on her old skills from time to time..

Most interactions take place during this period, but the exact placement of where she lives and works can be adjusted to meet the other muse’s verses and such.

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Then I Punched a Dragon in the Face!: Pari’s Elder Scrolls Verse, mainly being held in Skyrim.

A journeying Imperial Sellsword who doesn’t particularly belong to any group and who attempted to try and cross the border back into Cyrodiil. Pari has no standing on the conflict between the Empire and the Stormcloaks, instead just trying her best to not get killed and by making a decent amount of coin.

Originally hailing from the coastal city of Anvil in Cyrodiil, Pari in her teens was enlisted in the Imperial Army during the Great war. However after returning home to Anvil only to find it in ruin, she decided to roam the lands of Tamriel doing what she did best. Essentially being a mercenary for hire..

Until she learned that she was actually very skilled in the art of thievery. And after a rather eventful induction into the Riften Thieves Guild, Pari eventually worked her way up through conspiracy solving and is now part of the secret inner circle known as the Nightingales.

That doesn’t mean she hasn’t stopped wandering however..

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Wizardry, Witchcraft and Hiding in Plain Sight: Pari’s JK Rowling’s Wizarding World Verse. In this particular verse, Pari is Muggle-Born, hailed from a non-magic parentage. She was however raised by her grandparents who ran an independent potions store. Of course, one can only keep their secret of being from a certain lineage a secret for so long. And on having that discovered by a former partner who loathed the idea of someone being less then a ‘Pure-Blood’ in their presence, Pari vanished into obscurity only to end up working at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, not too far from where she spent some of her happiest years honing her skills. A former Hufflepuff, and still very proud where she came from, she’s often having a bit of banter with the patrons at the pub. She is also rather adept at potion brewing too..

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Putting the ‘Sin’ in Casino: Essentially what happens when an information broker with no direction takes on a random job which brings her all the way out to a place where things aren’t always what they seem. Las Vegas! A place where fortunes can be made and lost in the blink of an eye, and where lives can change in ways that no one can anticipate.. and in the neon lights, even the darkness can take hold.

[Please note, this particular verse may contain some themes of a demonic nature so if that’s not your thing, you’re welcome to blacklist this tag: putting the sin in casino: vegas verse ]

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Gaian Misadventures: Pari’s FFVII Verse. Currently working as a barkeep in Costa del Sol, Pari spends a lot of her time in the tourist trap. However, given the course of events brewing, it’s only a matter of time before life in Costa del Sol will change in turn. Even causing Pari to start going further afield..

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End of the World: Pari’s Fallout Verse, which can be specified to start off in the timeline of Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas or Fallout 4.

Three: After having to leave Vault 101 in search of a missing relative many years previously and the misadventures that had followed, Pari is still roaming the Capital Wasteland. Somehow managing to survive and still desperately trying to prove that being born and raised in a vault has no standing on how a person adapts.

New Vegas: Being a Courier was never easy. Even moreso when one is ambushed and left for dead while having said package removed from them. After a spell of recovery in Goodsprings, our plucky Courier sets off to find the people who had left a bullet in her head and to settle the score.. as well as retrieve the package that was taken from her.  

Four: Pari thought that being admitted into Vault 111 would be the key to survival for herself and her family. However, that was not the case as she and her family were cryogenically frozen! Years later, she is awoken and after having to witness her spouse being ruthlessly murdered and her child being taken from her, she’s put back into cryostasis. What’s a lady to do on waking up years later? Simple. Get even. However being something of a woman out of time is a little more testing than she hoped..

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Anomaly Solving Anomaly: Pari’s Dragonball Xenoverse Verse, predominantly based in the setting of the second game. An Earthling Time Patroller based in Conton City, Pari is continuously trying to protect the timelines from any perceivable threats.. it’s something of an exciting challenge.

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Dead and Out of this World: Pari’s Vampiric Verse. After being made into a vampire almost two hundred years previously and still looking like a fresh faced lady in her early thirties, Pari is.. somewhat trying her best to adapt to the more modern age. The hair may have been cut and changed, the fashion more up to speed but some old habits die ridiculously hard. And modernity is something that our vampiric lady is trying her best to adapt to.

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Stand and Deliver: Pari’s JJBA Verse. This verse begins a good few years after Pari’s break with her ex, Robert and he in turn is linked in a chain of events which have led to this point.

One could agree that they are in fact bizarre.

While in the company of Robert Kinsley, it wasn’t entirely uncommon for him to collect ancient and unusual artefacts. One of the more noted ones being a rather unusual bow and arrow. Neither Pari nor Robert knew of its purpose.

.. Until the moment came where in which Robert fired the arrow at Pari as she tried to get away from him after their final and extremely tempestuous fight.

Everything in her world went dark, and she found herself succumbing to the arrow fired into her. However, she kept trying to rouse herself. On eventually opening her eyes, she realised something.

Not only had Pari survived the shot but was faced with a very unusual apparition. The room she was in had been filled with a kind of fog, thick enough to not only obscure her movements so that she could try and make a break for it, but also confusing Robert because of its effects.

The apparition seemed to vaguely resemble a human in the thick smog, and it seemed to be driven along with her need to live. To survive.

Thankfully Pari had managed to get away from Robert with the help of her newly acquired apparition, and from then on has been trying to learn more about what it is and why in times of mental focus, it keeps appearing. And why she is currently at the point of being able to run into reflective spaces nearby only to reappear in adjacent surfaces due to what she only knows as a very confusing and yet somewhat helpful ‘ghost’, who she knows very little about aside from the fact that they are inexplicably bound.

A truly bizarre chain of events indeed.

{Please note that I have yet to figure out where on the JJBA timeline I plan on putting this verse, but as it’s dealing with the nature of Stands, it’s safe to say that it’s definitely set somewhere along Stardust Crusaders and Diamond is Unbreakable. I have only just started watching Diamond is Unbreakable however, so this verse may be subject to being edited much later on.}

About Pari’s Stand:

Stand Name:『 Smoke + Mirrors』

Stand User: 『Pari Vass』

Namesake: Album/Song Name name by Imagine Dragons

Appearance: A grey/silver gaseous humanoid figure when summoned, naturally very obscured regardless of surrounding environment. On closer inspection, the figure somewhat resembles a broken mirror. Fragmented, but not tangible.

Stand Ability: Can grant the user the ability to evade any potential hazardous situation, but only if there is some form of reflective surface close at hand. The user can, with this stand, basically run into the reflective surface and be shifted somewhere else. At present, it only will work for the nearest reflective area where in which the user will re-emerge. If such a surface isn’t available, Smoke + Mirrors essentially acts akin to a smoke grenade. As time passes, the stand’s abilities may evolve..

Stand Stats at present:

Power - E

Speed - C

Range - D

Durability - C

Precision - B

Potential - B

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City of the Dead: Resident Evil Verse

This particular verse is set between Resident Evil 2 and 3, and as such, Pari is making some sort of attempt to escape from Raccoon City. Will she somehow manage it? Will she succumb to the T-Virus and join the infected populous? Let’s find out.

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The Wandering Hunter: Legacy of Kain Verse

Pari’s place in this particular verse depends on which part of the timeline is in writing. However, the premise is the same. Pari is one of Nosgoth’s Vampire Hunters, but occasionally tends to go it alone and leave the human settlements to pursue a target. Perhaps not as crossbow trigger happy as some of her counterparts, this attitude of hers may lead to her undoing..

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Lady Strange: BPRD Verse

Pari in this verse is a new recruit to the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defence, after a rather messy incident involving her psychokinetic abilities and having to make some effort to try to use her abilities for a better purpose by order of the British Government. Of course, she doesn’t quite know what she’s letting herself in for yet, as our telekinetic will find out..

#mobile specified verses page #and now featuring a returning verse

[leiascully]

Fic: Home Again (Part 5/5)

Timeline: Season 10 (replaces Home Again in its original order in the All The Choices We’ve Made ‘verse - Visitor + Resident + etc.) Rating: PG Characters:  Mulder, Scully, Bill Scully, the Trashman (established MSR) Content warning:  canon-typical body horror (dismemberment) A/N:  This story is an alternate Home Again that cleaves fairly close to the original but reflects M&S’ growth/change in the ATCWM ‘verse and makes reference to past cases. I’m weaving canon dialogue into the stories in an attempt to keep the reframing plausibly in line with canon.

Here’s the end of it, and here’s the link to all of it on AO3:

She spends the entire drive to Philadelphia staring out the window as tears roll down her cheeks.  She isn't even actively crying, just leaking.  Lachrymose.  Lagrimosa.  If she were a statue, it would be a miracle.  She wishes she were a statue.  

At the lab, Mulder introduces her to the lab techs.  She smiles politely, eyes dry at last, but she can't remember their names, even when she looks at their nametags.  She has one hand in her pocket, worrying the coin necklace like a talisman, and her phone in the other hand, waiting for Bill to call.   Their mother may be dead, but her life isn't over.  There will be loose ends to tie up, certificates to file, legal documents to be read and analyzed.  Her body was, in some ways, the least significant part of her existence, until it failed.  It's a lesson Scully has learned over and over as a forensic pathologist.  

"I broke down the paint samples you chipped away from the Trashman's signature," says one of the scientists, gesturing at an expensive-looking machine.  "I used vibrational spectography to analyze it.  It defines binders, pigments, and additives that are in spray paint.  The binder present in this breakdown was patented by a brand called Cannonz - that's with a z - and used only in their high-end spray paints."

Scully Googles it.  Cannonz with a z makes a lot of spray paint, but when she puts in Philadelphia, the results narrow.  "Product locator indicates there's only one store in Central Philadelphia that carries it," she announces.  

"Then it's time for a visit," Mulder says, and they're off.  The forward motion feels good.  It feels productive.  When she's still, her insides churn and her mind slips inevitably back to the hospital.  

"You want to stake out the store?" Mulder asks.  

She opens her mouth to say yes, please, let me work, but then reconsiders.  The few times she's been in a hardware store, she's been too noticeable.  Men assume she doesn't know what she wants, or that she's a DIY blogger, or that one way or another, she needs their attention.  It'll be better if Mulder does it and she stays in the car.  

"No," she says.  "It's a little conspicuous.  Better if I drive."  

"Okay," he says.  

+ + + +

Mulder lurks in the hardware store, pretending to look at sandpaper and paint.  It's easy and absorbing to flip through the paint chips.  Maybe they should redo the bedroom.  He hasn't, since she moved back in.  Maybe it's time for a new look to go with the reboot of their old life.  Something to signify that the times have really changed.  They've never really lived anywhere that had color on the walls.  

He knows she's right and she would be conspicuous.  A beautiful woman in a suit in a hardware store is unlikely to be an everyday occurrence, especially one who occasionally weeps in an understated and elegant way that breaks hearts.  As far as he's concerned, she's always the center of attention.  

Movement catches his eye.  There's a young man by the spray paint.  He knocks cans of Cannonz Premium into his basket: black, light grey, dark grey, white.  There's no hesitation in his movement.  Mulder follows him, walking casually with his fistful of paint chips, moving toward the front of the store.  The kid looks back over his shoulder.  Mulder detours down another aisle, glancing at a display of fans.  When he catches up again, the kid has ditched his basket of paint and is headed for the front door.  Mulder trails him.  He follows the kid out the front door at a reasonable difference.  Scully's in the car.  Her head is bent, looking at something she's holding, probably the necklace her mother will never get a chance to explain.  He whistles, wishing he didn't have to, and her head snaps up.  She shifts out of park and follows him.

Mulder runs, wishing he wasn't wearing dress shoes.  Scully catches up to him and pulls over a hundred feet away.  He flings open the door and climbs into the passenger's seat.  

"That way," he says, panting.  They run the kid to ground at a warehouse in a fenced-off wooded lot.  Mulder jumps out of the car and regrets it as his knee twinges.  Some parts of them are getting too old for this.  But he glimpses the kid and takes off in pursuit, Scully close behind him.  They clamber through a hole in the chain-link fence.  The kid stops to unlock a door.  He's polite for a vandal and potential murderer.

"Federal agents!" Mulder calls, just as the kid gets the door open and vanishes through it.  Mulder shares a look with Scully and they go in.  It's dim inside the warehouse, like most of the warehouses he's been in, but his reflexes are still sharp and he reaches for his weapon almost without thinking as he sees the kid draw a gun.  Scully has the kid in a headlock almost before either of them can react.  He wonders if she took up jujitsu in the time they were apart.  She's impressive.  Then again, she always was.  She hands him the kid's gun and cuffs the kid.

"We're looking for the Trashman," Mulder says.

The kid sighs.  "Why would I know where he is?"

"You had the paint," Mulder tells him.  

"Is it a crime to buy paint?" the kid snarks.

"No, but it's a crime to deface other people's property," Scully says.  

"With the same paint the Trashman uses," Mulder points out.  

"Why are you looking for him?" the kid asks.

"We believe he may be a key witness in a murder case," Scully says, looking at Mulder.  

"There might be compensation in it for the person who could help us find him," Mulder says.

"Lead with that next time," the kid grumbles.  "You want the Trashman?  Take the cuffs off and I'll take you to him."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Scully asks.

"You're the ones with the guns," the kid says.  

She raises her eyebrow at Mulder.  He shrugs.  They've had this discussion more times than he can count.  It hasn't needed to be verbalized for decades.  The potential reward outweighs the risk.  He's pretty sure Scully could throw this kid.  She uncuffs him and the kid rubs his wrist.

"We kept our end," Mulder says.

"Right this way," the kid says, like a sarcastic maitre d'.  He leads them through the warehouse to another door that he unlocks with his jingling ring of keys.  There are stairs dimly visible beyond it.  The kid points down to them.  Mulder pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight.  He should have brought a real one.  There were years when he never went anywhere without a flashlight.  The one on his phone is brighter, but harder to balance across his gun.  Twenty-first century skills.

"I'm just letting you know," the kid says, "from here on down, there's no light.  Power's out."

"Crime doesn't pay the bills," Mulder jokes.  The kid pretends to laugh.  The three of them start to ease down the stairs.  It's dark, but the stairs seem to be in good condition, and they're even.  The light from their phones casts dizzying shadows around their feet, but that's something Mulder can deal with.  He spent decades in the shadows.  When they're what must be most of the way down, the kid shoves them suddenly into the wall and pelts back up the stairs.  Mulder sighs.  Scully shoots him a sideways glare.

"What?" he says.  "I wasn't going to shoot him.  He's a kid and it's dark.  You want to do the stairs, be my guest.  I'm too old for that shit."

She rolls her eyes.  "Mulder, back in the day, I used to do stairs in three-inch heels."

He glances at her feet and shines his phone at them.  "'Back in the day', huh.  Three inches not enough for you anymore?"

She rolls her eyes again.

"Go for it, G-Woman," he tells her.  

"I'm not leaving you alone in the dark," she says.  

"By all means, ladies first," he tells her, making a sweeping gesture.  She comes down the last few stairs and steps onto the warehouse basement floor.  They make their halting way across it, but the floor is mostly clear.  It's the dark that's the danger.  The light washes it away, but it flows back around them as they move.  Mulder's shoulders tense.  There's something down here, or someone; he knows it with a certainty he can't shake.  His nerves twang.  Suddenly, there's a flicker of white at the edge of their pool of light.  It freezes as the light touches it, and then flees, straight into a wall.  It hits with a thud and falls to the ground.  They run to catch up, but it's gone.  There's only a pale puddle, a muddle of cloth.  He nudges it with the toe of his shoe.  It leaves a smudge.

"What the hell?" Scully says.  

Mulder shrugs, already proceeding.  At the end of the corridor, there's a locked metal door.  Mulder locks eyes with Scully and then bangs on the door with his fist, hoping his phone won't fly out.  "Federal agents!  Open up!  If you're in danger, we're here to help."

"I am in danger," say a voice inside.  It's a baritone, slightly raspy.  "Go away."

Mulder glances at Scully.  She nods.  He kicks open the door, creaky knees be damned.  He's just lucky this one opens in.  He's made the mistake before of trying to kick in a door that opened out.  They burst into the room like they're on a movie set.  There's a statue in the middle, human-sized, of a human-shaped figure with a trash bag shirt and a Band-Aid on its nose.  Mulder gets chills down his spine, remembering other statues with other faces inside them, wet clay plastered slashed-open faces, a muse like a demon that drove an old mentor to murder.  He takes a step toward the statue.

"Put the guns down!" says the voice.  "They don't work on them!  Put them away!  They don't work.  I've tried.  I've tried to shoot them."

Behind the statue, there's a man.  He's hiding behind a shopping cart full of spray paint cans.  The shadows stripe his face, cutting him into checkers.  They aim at him, guns and lights trained toward him.  

"You the Trashman?" Mulder asks.

"Turn down the light, man," the Trashman says.  "Turn down the light.  If they don't see me and I don't see them, they can't hurt me."

"What's the opposite of hiding in the light?" Scully murmurs.  She points her light toward the floor but holds her weapon steady.  Mulder turns his flashlight off.

"Thanks, man," the Trashman says.  "Hold on, I've got a candle.  Candles aren't enough to attract them."

He straightens up from behind the cart, pulling himself up on the wire frame, and shuffles over toward a workbench.  He strikes a match and lights three little candles.  Scully reluctantly turns off her light, but she doesn't holster her weapon.

"We can place you near the scene of two different murders," Mulder says.  "Why don't you explain that to us."

"The people on the streets - the homeless people, the street people - they ain't got no voice, right?" the Trashman says, leaning against the workbench.  "They get treated like trash.  I mean, actual trash.  It's like this.  You throw your grande cup or your Coke bottle in the right trash can under the sink - if it's recyclable, if it's not - you tie it in a bag, you take it outside, you put it in the right dumpster.  You feel good about yourself.  You saved the world, a little bit.  Kept global warming at bay, spared a sea turtle or two.  Garbage truck comes to take the trash away.  One way or another, it's not your problem.  Just like magic.  But it is your problem, because it piles up in a landfill, or it gets floated out to sea on a barge, or it gets incinerated, and now there's toxins in the water and in the land and in the sky.  But you don't see the problem, so there is no problem."

"Is someone incinerating the homeless population?" Scully asks.

"It's a metaphor," the Trashman says.  "People treat people like trash, like if they can just sweep them somewhere else, there's no problem.  They don't fix the problem.  They just try to eliminate the symptoms."

"So you fixed the problem?" Mulder asks.

"I did my part," the Trashman says, some kind of pride in his voice.

"By killing Joseph Cutler and Nancy Huff?" Mulder asks.

"There were two art thieves too," the Trashman says.  "The ones who stole the billboard.  They've been taking my work for months, selling it to the people who cause the problem.  That's why I switched to brick.  Can't steal brick."  He pushes a hand through his hair.  "I was just trying to give those people a voice the only way I know how.  Through art, not violence.  I wanted something I could put around town so they wouldn't be forgotten.  A stencil that looked over the Bad Suit Building Man, the Lawn Gnome Suburban Lady.  A reminder for them.  A stop sign."

"Why'd you put up the art after the fact?" Mulder demands.  "We've got footage that shows that the graffiti on the billboard wasn't painted until the morning of Cutler's murder."

"I didn't do it," the Trashman protests.  "That wasn't me.  I made the stencil, but I didn't paint the billboard.  I only thought him up, you know?  Those people who got killed - that was him.  Only him."

"Who, exactly, is him?" Scully asks.

"You saw those things in the hall," the Trashman says.  "I heard you."

"Yeah," Mulder allows.  

"I made them," the Trashman says.  "I didn't mean to, but I made 'em.  They'll go away, eventually.  They're kind of fading out, the less I think about it.  But the Band-Aid Nose Man...he's different.  He's got a life of his own."

Mulder turns to look at the statue.  It doesn't move.

"Tibetan Buddhists would call him a Tulpa," the Trashman continues.  "A thought form using mind and energy to will a consciousness into existence."

Mulder glances at Scully.  Motor oil and coffee grounds, he thinks, red footprints staining the plush white carpet in a perfect suburban McMansion.  "Tulpa is a 1929 Theosophist mistranslation of the Tibetan world 'tulku', meaning 'a manifestation body'," he says.  "There is no idea in Tibetan Buddhism of a thought form or thought as form.  And a realized tulku would never harm anyone.  That's antithetical to the Buddhist tradition."  

"A thought form made of trash seems unlikely at best," Scully murmurs, and Mulder knows that she remembers it too.

"Okay," the Trashman says.  "But Buddhist or philosophist or whatever, I'm telling you, I spend a lot of energy on my art.  I meditated on it.  I put all my energy into the Band-Aid Nose Man, and somehow, I willed it to become what the street people needed.  Someone who didn't see them as trash.  Someone willing to deal with the problem."

"That's a powerful wish," Scully says.  

"I thought about what I wanted him to look like, what I wanted him to be, and why I wanted him," the Trashman says, shuffling through a pile of papers.  He holds up a sketch of the Band-Aid Nose Man, beaming like a proud parent, and Mulder feels a pang in his heart.  He remembers Maggie holding up a photo of William like that.  Their son, no less a miracle, no less a thought made form.  They wished devoutly for him, prayed for him, and he was made flesh.

"I didn't bring him here," the Trashman says.  "He came to me.  I didn't expect him, but he told me what he wanted to be.  What he wanted to do.  All we do is hold the pencil, or the clay, or the words, or whatever the medium.  I think there must be spirits and souls floating all around us.  And if you think real hard or you want them so, so bad that you can't think of anything else...they come to you.  They pass through you on their way to existence.  And then they become alive with a life of their own."

Scully's breath hitches like a hiccup and Mulder knows she's thinking of William and of her parents, of the spirit she saw when her father died and of the way her mother slipped away.

"This is what came to me in my dreams," the Trashman says earnestly.  "From some other place I can't fathom.  It's more powerful than I even imagined.  But now it's alive and it's out there, right down to the Band-Aid I used to hold the clay in place while it dried.  Who would copy this?  Who could?  And did you smell it?  It smells like nothing on this earth.  It has its own life now.  Does what it wants.  Goes where it wants.  I just wanted to scare anyone who took dignity away from the homeless, who treated them like trash.  I just wanted them to know that fear.  That's where the violent idea popped into my head.  It was just an emotion, just a notion that went through my head while I was making it.  They treat people like trash, so they should know what it feels like.  But ideas are dangerous.  Even small ones.  It uses that violent thought now.  It thinks that's what it's supposed to do.  Put them in the trash."

Scully looks mesmerized.  She shakes her head.  "You are responsible," she says.  "If you made the problem, if it was your idea...you're responsible for whatever destruction it causes.  You put it out of sight, so that it wouldn't be your problem.  But you're just as bad as the people you hate."

Mulder doesn't think the Trashman can hear the ache in her voice.  He wants to tell her that their son was never a problem.  But it isn't the moment, and he wasn't there.  She's told him of the moving mobile, of the powers their son might have shown, of the danger inherent in those abilities.  He can't believe that Scully's child would have used those powers to destroy or to harm, but he could believe it of his child.  Maybe they called to the universe and a spirit answered, and they just didn't have the time to understand its purposes.  Benign or malign, William is out of their life, but Mulder isn't sure if that kind of connection can ever be broken.  He kept looking for Samantha.  Maggie asked for Charlie.  The act of creation is powerful.  Maybe that tie can't be severed.

"If what you believe is possible," he says, returning to the Trashman, "the last person involved in the relocation would be Landry."

"He got the injunction lifted," the Trashman says.  "He was bragging about it in front of the HUD office, letting everybody know.  They're moving people out to Franklin Hospital tonight.  There's signs posted and everything."  

"Don't leave the state," Scully says.  "We may need to speak with you again."

The Trashman laughs.  It's a hollow sound.  "Got nowhere to go."

"That's what they all say before they run," Mulder says dryly.  "I think we'd better bring you along with us."  

They take the candles as they climb back up the stairs.  The Trashman seems convinced any more light will attract more of his ghouls, or tulpas, or whatever they are.  They don't seem to have as much power as the Band-Aid Nose Man.  Still, Mulder would rather avoid any delays.  He gets out his phone and looks up the number for Landry's firm.  The secretary, alarmed, gives him Landry's cell phone number, and Mulder dials quickly.  

"Mr. Landry," he says when his call goes to voicemail, "this is Agent Mulder with the FBI.  I need you to call me back.  It's urgent."  

Scully's on the phone with the Philly PD.  "We're looking for Daryl Landry," she says as she opens the door and gestures the Trashman into the back seat.  The GPS sends them on a convoluted route back to the HUD office.  Mulder checks his watch.  By the time they pull up in front of the office, the yellow school bus is gone, leaving only a cloud of diesel fumes.  Scully, with a grim set to her mouth, puts Franklin Hospital in the GPS.  

"Just trash," the Trashman says.  "That's what he thinks of them.  Put them in the right bin and they'll disappear, like magic.  Put them in the right bin and they'll be somebody else's problem."

"Thank you," Scully says.  "Very helpful."  

The hospital is a big building, half of it lit in the dim of the evening.  They run in through the doors, the Trashman behind them.  

"Landry?" Mulder bellows.  "Where's Landry?"

"He took my dog," a man says.  "He sent my dog to the shelter.  I need my dog.  I told him I wasn't coming if I couldn't have my dog."

"I tried to tell him," a woman says.  "I tried, but he kept going."

"Which way did he go?" Scully demands.

The woman points.  They clatter down the hall, dress shoes noisy on the tile.  

"Ugh!" Scully says.  "That smell!"

"Like nothing on this earth," the Trashman says.  "I told you."

There's a scream.  They burst into a room.  It's tiled, lined with showers, with benches down the middle.  There's no exit except the one they came through.  On the floor of one of the showers is a heap.  That's the best way Mulder can describe it.  The heap was a person until recently - that much is clear - but that person has been...disassembled.  Next to the heap is a phone, blood splashed across the illuminated screen.  

"There's only one way out of this room," Scully says, easing forward, peering into the stalls.  "He screamed just seconds ago.  How did we not see whoever did this to him leave the room?"  She scuffs her foot like there's something on her shoe.  "Mulder," she says.

When she moves her foot, there's a Band-Aid stuck to the floor.  

"I told you," the Trashman says.

"How do we find him?" Mulder demands.

"How the hell would I know?" the Trashman says.  "I didn't plan this.  I didn't tell him to do it."

"Are you willing to say that in a sworn statement?" Mulder asks.  

"Yeah, man," the Trashman says.  "Call me in."

"We can hold him overnight," Scully murmurs.  "Talk to him in the morning."  

"Let's do it now," Mulder says.  "There'll be somebody to talk to him at the police station.  We'll turn him over to them."  He looks at her.  "Let's go home, Scully."

He sees the gleam of tears in her eyes.  "Home," she says quietly.  

"Yeah," he says.  "Let somebody else write the report.  We'll fill in what details we can, but...."  He shrugs.  "It's an X-File.  It's unexplainable.  I'm learning when to let go."

"It's not easy," she whispers.  

"I know it's not," he says.  

"Are you letting me go?" the Trashman asks.

"No," Mulder says.  He picks up his phone.  "Can I speak to Detective Dross?  We've got a situation out at the Franklin Hospital that relates to his case."  

They wait at the old hospital until Dross shows up, fielding questions about dogs and when people will be able to go back to their usual spots.  The Trashman seems calm.  Maybe the Band-Aid Nose Man's murder spree is over, the violent notion having run its course.  Maybe the Trashman's a sociopath.  Either way, they're turning over the case.  Someone else can run the truth down to its burrow.  He's taking Scully home to their own house, where she can cry her eyes out in peace, and he can hold her in his arms and cry too for a kind woman who held him close when no one else understood what he might lose.  

+ + + +

The funeral is sweet, but short.  Bill gives a speech.  It's surprisingly gentle.  Scully gives a speech too.  She stands at the lectern, hands braced on the sides.

"Mom was always there for me when I needed her," she says, keeping her voice deliberate and low.  "She was always there for all of us, no matter how far away we went.  And I know that she's still here for us.  For her children, her grandchildren, and all of us.  Her heart...her heart was so big.  And I'm going to miss her so much."

"You should take the ashes," Bill says at the end.  "You knew her the best.  You were at Dad's funeral.  Just take them to the same place."

"I will," she says.  

Mulder holds out his hand.  "Sorry to see you under these circumstances," he says.

Bill, after a moment, reaches out and shakes hands.  "Maybe next time there will be better ones."  

"Let's hope so," Mulder says.  

"I've got to get to the airport," Bill says.  "I couldn't take any more time away.  But I know you'll do the right thing."

"Thank you," Scully says.  

Bill hugs her, a little stiffly.  She hugs him back.  

"I wish Charlie had come," she says.

"It's a little far," Bill says.  

"I know," she tells him.  "Still.  You made it in from Germany."

"You of all people should know that Charlie's different," Bill says.  

"Melissa was different," she says, her words curling into each other with remembered affection.  "Charlie's just...Charlie."  

"You're all different," Bill says.  "I guess we're all different.  But you're the one who went the farthest, Dana."  

She scoffs.  "I'm the one who stayed home."

"Not physically," he says.  "You're the only one who did the unexpected."

She draws back a little.  "Bill, I don't know what to say."

"I was a little envious," he says.  "We all were."  He hugs her again.  "Take care of yourself, Dana."

"You too," she says.  "Give my love to Tara and the boys."

"I will," he says.  

She looks at Mulder helplessly.  He shrugs very slightly and hands her a handkerchief as Bill strolls away.  She picks up the urn.

"Where are we going?" Mulder says, pulling out his keys.  

"I'll tell you on the way," she says.  

They drive to the beach where Scully once watched her father's ashes being scattered.  She cues up "Beyond The Sea" on her phone as they tip Maggie's ashes into the waves.  

"We should have gotten a boat," Mulder says.

"It's all right," Scully says.  "Mom always liked to stay close to shore."  They sit on a log and watch the waves wash up and over the sand, distributing the dark smudge.  

"I know she's still with you, Scully," Mulder says, putting a gentle arm around her shoulders.

"She is," she says.  She sighs.  "I've been thinking about thought forms."

"I thought we agreed that the thought form was a stretch at best," he says.

"I know now why Mom asked for Charlie, even though he was out of her life," she says.  "She wanted to know before he left that he'd be okay.  She gave birth to him.  She made him.  In a way, isn't that a thought given form?  He was her responsibility.  And that's why she said what she said to us."

"We gave him form," Mulder says softly.  "William."  

"Didn't we?" she says.  "We wished for him.  Mulder, we wished for him so hard.  Maybe that's how he came into the world.  And she wanted to know that we were okay, that he was okay."  

"I'm sure he's okay," Mulder says.  "You made sure of that."

"We gave him up to keep him safe," Scully says.  "But I can't help but think of him, Mulder.  I can't help it."

"Neither can I," he says.  

"I'm so happy that we're back on the X-Files," she says.  "I knew I would miss it, but I didn't know how much.  And I believe we will find the answers to the mysteries we're seeking, side by side."  She turns to him.  "But our mysteries - some of them can never be answered.  I won't know if he thinks of us, or if he's ever been afraid and wished that I was there, the way I wished for my mom so many times.  Does he know that he's adopted?  Does he doubt that we love him?  I have this necklace, this quarter, and I have so many questions, and I'm sure I'll only have more as we go through her effects.  Does he have questions?  Does he look in the mirror and see us?"  

"I'm sure he knows that he's loved," Mulder says.  "By us, by his parents.  By everyone who knows him, probably."

Her voice falters.  "I just have to believe...Mulder, I have to believe we didn't treat him like trash.  Our son, Mulder."

He pulls her against his shoulder and she bursts into tears.

"You didn't have a choice," he says as she sobs, her tears soaking into his lapel.  "Scully, he knows.  You did the right thing.  When you meet him, that won't be a mystery."  She feels his lips mumble against her hair.  "He'll know how hard we wished for him, how wanted and cherished and treasured he was.  He couldn't not know that, seeing you."

She cries until she can't cry anymore, and it helps, as much as anything could, and then they go home.

#octoberficfest #xfiles fic #the x-files fic #xf alternate season 10 #mulder x scully #my fic #atcwm verse

[daggcrisms]

Rules for mobile users

[[here’s a google doc for the updated list of rules, applicable for all my blogs]]

anything under this cut is from my outdated rules.

[rules updated: 07/28/2019]

–STUFF YOU SHOULD DO–

• No godmodding. No sending (implied or explicit) homophobic/transphobic/bigoted messages to me or my character either.

• Please don’t over-pester me for replies. I promise I’ll get to them. Feel free to drop me a reminder after at least a week of no replies, though. In return, I usually give you a week too, unless otherwise specified in your own rules, until I remind you if it’s your turn to reply (or more often, I chicken out and trust that you’ll eventually respond/want to drop it and end up never bringing up that particular thread ever again). You’re always free to start multiple threads with me, that is greatly encouraged because I love having lots of threads with people.

• If you start getting bored with the roleplay, feel free to drop it and/or end it. We can always start up another thread in the future.

• However, please let me know if you want to drop a roleplay thread! It can give me major anxiety when I’m waiting for a response that’s never going to come, and I wonder if I did something wrong and assume that’s why you’re not replying anymore :’) I’m not forcing you to let me know if you want to drop a thread, you can drop it without saying anything too. But I personally really appreciate being told about that sort of thing.

• Don’t reblog a thread you’re not part of. This should go without being said, of course. Personals will be hardblocked immediately, rp blogs will receive a warning.

• If you can trim your threads, please do! It’s fine if you can’t, though, because I will most likely trim the thread for you. If you don’t trim threads with other people, however, I’ll be less likely to follow you since I don’t like scrolling through long posts.

• Please don’t claim any of my art as your own. If you post it somewhere, the least you can do is credit me by at least including a link to my blog or something. Bonus points if you ask me first before reposting my art, but I understand if you’re anxious because so am I :’)

• If any of your art is featured on my blog, as an icon or something and you don’t want me to use your art, please tell me!!! Message me privately or contact me in some way and please let me know that you want your art taken down. As a fellow artist, I understand wanting other people to not use your art (although I am personally fine with it as long as proper credit is given,) but if you’re more strict about it than I am, that’s totally okay too! Just let me know, and I’ll stop using your art immediately, will delete all icons I have of your art, as well as delete every single instance of your art being used on this blog.

• That being said, if you’re following me, please let me know if I’m doing something that’s making you uncomfortable or is breaking one of your rules!! I do read the rules pages of everyone, but I’m human and forget things, and I’m not a mind reader either ;~; I care, so please tell me if I’m ever doing anything bad

• You can reply to any of my open starters at any time! Even if they’re a year old! Even if other people have already replied to it! My open starters are open for a reason, and we don’t have to be mutuals for you to reply to them either :’)

—

–STUFF YOU SHOULD KEEP IN MIND–

• I am of age to do smut, but Kris is a minor so that is a no for this blog! There will occasionally be sex jokes, but that’s about it. No explicit smut in this house.

• This blog is not a spoiler-free one. I will not tag roleplays with spoilers, but anything else will be tagged with Deltarune Spoilers

• I’m alright with roleplaying nsfw in general, minus smut. Gore, violence, and generally dark roleplays are cool with me. I love angsty things just as much as I love fluff ;w; Speaking of gore, you’re more than welcome to fight/harm/injure my muse to any extent! You don’t even have to ask! Come in and fight this gremlin tbh! If you want to do a rp where they die, however, please dm me first.

• I prefer not to roleplay with personals, unless you are someone I know from school or something like that. Personals in general are allowed to follow me too!  However! Personals are not allowed to reblog roleplays, in character posts, or ooc posts especially if I say in the tags that I’m going to delete the post later. Only things that are tagged with my “online reblogs” or “musings” or "art tag" tags are okay to reblog. Headcanon posts are not okay to reblog unless I say otherwise.

• Like spamming is okay! I very occasionally lose roleplays, and getting lots of notes from likes are never a factor for that, for me personally. If I lose a roleplay, it’s mostly just because I forgot, so that’s really a “me” thing. I’m usually very good at keeping track of who I’m roleplaying with and how many ongoing threads I have, and I reply pretty consistently, so just remind me if I haven’t responded after five or more days (as stated in one of the above rules)! And I like it when people like my posts! It lets me know that you like my blog and the stuff I post, and it makes me happy :’)

• If you are an OC, I will assume our muses have never met unless you plan ahead with me what their relationship is like.

• That being said, characters who have already interacted in canon will know each other. Unless the roleplay takes place in a different point of time and we are staging their first meeting, of course.

• Kris will be pretty meta sometimes. They are aware of who Players are (they're definitely not fond of them other than the few good players they've met), and they know they live in the game world, and are aware of alternate universes and things of that nature.

• Kris is nonbinary on this blog. Although, I don’t care if you refer to them as a boy or a girl (Kris personally will care if you refer to them as a girl though, because they usually Don’t like that). Their order of preference for pronouns is they/he/she, although they will definitely like you more if you use exclusively they/them pronouns. I respect all headcanons about Kris’ gender, and same goes for any Frisks and Charas. If you play a KFC kid, gendered or not, I will use the pronouns they want used, and I do hope that you use they/them pronouns for my Kris. I personally will default to using they/them for other Krises, Frisks, and Charas unless specified on your blog. No discourse about this, please. 

• Doubles are welcome to interact too! Of course they are, considering the Kris Squad. I’m also cool with interacting with and following multiple blogs who portray the same character other than Krises as well!

• This blog will not have mains. However, the only “main” they really have is the Berdly over at @berdbrainx. That Berdly originates in their timeline in the “main verse.” Other than him, they will not have any specific version of a muse that they’ll talk about in threads, unless the thread is specifically about that one muse for some reason. For Deltarune non-Kris blogs, they will typically be the Kris in your universe unless you already have a Kris main or you talk about it with me beforehand. Doubles of Kris will be treated as alternates. In their “main verse” in spontaneous roleplays/asks/replies to in-character posts (online roleplays), they reside in their own separate timeline. It’s a classic timeline that doesn’t have any other muses in it, so they don’t have a specific blog’s Susie, or Noelle, or other character that is from their own timeline. So they will treat your muse as if they are an alternate of their own timeline’s counterpart of them.

• I’m pretty lenient with short replies. Don’t feel pressured to match the length if my reply gets long! Multi-para (usually 2-5 paragraphs) is my go-to for roleplays, so I usually do long replies by default.

• Adding onto that, I honestly don’t mind one-liners. Of course, in crack/online roleplays it’s fine but I’m okay with it in serious roleplays too. I prefer it if you don’t give me one-liners, but hey, as long as I’m still having fun with the roleplay anyway, it’s cool with me! I understand not being able to think of anything to write, so just as long as you don’t give me one or two words as your reply like ‘He smiled.’ or ’*laughs*’, I’ll be cool with it. Put at least some effort even if you’re only gonna give me one sentence, otherwise I’ll drop the rp once it becomes a repeat offense.

• I will not change the formatting of my roleplays to fit yours. I’m comfortable with sticking to only paragraph style roleplays, thank you very much. Feel free to keep formatting your own posts though, because I think formatting looks really cool! I just don’t want to format my posts, however. I will not go all out with formatting my own posts with all that cool ‘small text’, and indents, and bolding and all that. The most I ever do with my formatting is italics for emphasis on certain words, and using icons.

• I tend to move roleplays from asks onto its own post. If I send you an ask meme and you answer it, I'll respond by making a new post, tagging you, and linking to your reply. Until formatting on asks are fixed, I will answer any asks sent to me in a new text post rather than asks.

• I accept any sort of asks! If they aren’t answered after a while, either I don’t know how to answer it or I might be drawing it out and I am a very slow artist- Sorry-

• Feel free to tag me in any of those tagging memes! I don’t mind and I think they’re pretty fun to do! ^^

• Adding onto the above rule, you’re more than welcome to send me those chain asks like “send this to 10 roleplayers you think are really great!” because it’s super duper nice that you would think to send one to me! But don’t expect me to send them to other people, because I won’t :’) my anxiety won’t let me, so I’m sorry-

• If I follow you, that means I’ve already read all of your rules. I might not send the codephrase, though, because most of the time I get very anxious over having to send things like that. I’m very sorry–! But if I follow you then chances are that I have definitely read them before following- If you choose not to trust me on this, I understand.

• I generally follow every rp blog that follows me, but I might not follow some people back for a few reasons. Some might be for the type of content you post on your blog, but I am still non-selective! I will roleplay with anyone who asks (unless you wanna rp gross things or you’re a mean person,,,, like your muse can be as much of a dick as you want, that’s no problem but don’t be gross to other people as yourself) and if I do roleplay with you, I will be more likely to follow you as well.

• Adding onto the above rule, however, please respect that it’s nothing personal if I ever unfollow you either! It’s not that I hate you or anything, but if you haven’t followed me back and you’re a private rp blog, or if we’re mutuals but never really roleplay, our muses just don’t click, you spam stuff that I don’t want to see on my dash, or you’ve become inactive for years and/or don’t interact with me anymore, there’s nothing wrong with that! We can still be friends but I prefer to have all the people I follow be potential rp partners. Feel free to follow me on my personal, @briightskies, if you still wanna keep in touch but not rp :’)

—

–ABOUT THIS BLOG–

• This blog is OC, multiverse, and crossover friendly! I love OCs and have many of my own tbh, you’re all more than welcome to come rp with me!!

• I’ll also rp with fandoms I’m not into either, as long as you have a good about section for your character, which also indicates how you portray them (any headcanons or AUs you have that aren’t canon, or whether you portray them as canonly as possible, unless they’re OCs of course since a regular about page is a given) and I’ll probably look up other things about that fandom in its wiki if I don’t know what something is anyway.

• This blog is multiship! So any relationships my muse is involved in, are in different timelines unless specified. Poly relationships aren’t bad though, just saying. I ship pretty much anything unless it’s incest or if they’re children paired with someone a lot older. Selfcest is fine too. Because Kris is a minor, they won’t really get intimate with their partners, but romantic stuff is a-okay.

• I also only ship with chemistry. My muses need to get to know yours first, so don’t get disappointed if they only see you as a friend/acquaintance at first and has no intention of pursuing a romantic relationship with your muse. Give my muse reasons to care about your muse and let the feelings develop naturally, and don’t ever force your muse on mine. Unless it’s to mess with them, or whatever other reason. Unrequited stuff is absolutely okay with me too!

• I will tag common triggers and such, but don’t be afraid to tell me if you have something you want me to tag! I promise I’ll remember to tag it from then on. I do not have any known triggers myself. Any trigger warning tags will be written as “tw; ____” with a semi-colon, not a colon. If I feel like something should be tagged as a trigger but I’m not sure what to tag it exactly, I’ll just tag it as “tw” as a sort of catch-all tag.

|     Requested tagged triggers:

tw; gore

tw; contagious diseases

tw; self harm

tw; child abuse

tw; spiders

tw; blood

tw; homestuck

tw; fnaf

tw; drugs

tw; smoking

tw; alcohol

tw; needles

• I will only talk through the IM system ooc. If you send me a message through there, I will not respond with ooc brackets ((these things)) because I will automatically assume you know that you’re talking to the mun. I do not do roleplays on there.

-

Thank you for reading this really long list of rules! It means a lot if you did!

There’s no password, because I’m also anxious with those for other people’s blogs as I said above. But if you would like to interact with me, you can shoot me an ask directed to my muse, or like one of my starter call posts at any time (also feel free to re-like those posts so I can make another starter for you at any time!) for me to write you a starter!

#rules #links for mobile users #|| Cherish This Manual || Blog Updates.

[berdbrainx]

Rules for mobile users

[[here’s a google doc for the updated list of rules, applicable for all my blogs]]

anything under this cut is from my outdated rules.

[rules updated: 08/14/2019]

–STUFF YOU SHOULD DO–

• No godmodding. No sending (implied or explicit) homophobic/transphobic/bigoted messages to me or my character either.

• Please don’t over-pester me for replies. I promise I’ll get to them. Feel free to drop me a reminder after at least a week of no replies, though. In return, I usually give you a week too, unless otherwise specified in your own rules, until I remind you if it’s your turn to reply (or more often, I chicken out and trust that you’ll eventually respond/want to drop it and end up never bringing up that particular thread ever again). You’re always free to start multiple threads with me, that is greatly encouraged because I love having lots of threads with people.

• If you start getting bored with the roleplay, feel free to drop it and/or end it. We can always start up another thread in the future.

• However, please let me know if you want to drop a roleplay thread! It can give me major anxiety when I’m waiting for a response that’s never going to come, and I wonder if I did something wrong and assume that’s why you’re not replying anymore :’) I’m not forcing you to let me know if you want to drop a thread, you can drop it without saying anything too. But I personally really appreciate being told about that sort of thing.

• Don’t reblog a thread you’re not part of. This should go without being said, of course. Personals will be hardblocked immediately, rp blogs will receive a warning.

• If you can trim your threads, please do! It's fine if you can't, though, because I will most likely trim the thread for you. If you don't trim threads with other people, however, I'll be less likely to follow you since I don't like scrolling through long posts.

• Please don’t claim any of my art as your own. If you post it somewhere, the least you can do is credit me by at least including a link to my blog or something. Bonus points if you ask me first before reposting my art, but I understand if you’re anxious because so am I :’)

• If any of your art is featured on my blog, as an icon or something and you don’t want me to use your art, please tell me!!! Message me privately or contact me in some way and please let me know that you want your art taken down. As a fellow artist, I understand wanting other people to not use your art (although I am personally fine with it as long as proper credit is given,) but if you’re more strict about it than I am, that’s totally okay too! Just let me know, and I’ll stop using your art immediately, will delete all icons I have of your art, as well as delete every single instance of your art being used on this blog.

• That being said, if you’re following me, please let me know if I’m doing something that’s making you uncomfortable or is breaking one of your rules!! I do read the rules pages of everyone, but I’m human and forget things, and I’m not a mind reader either ;~; I care, so please tell me if I’m ever doing anything bad

• You can reply to any of my open starters at any time! Even if they’re a year old! Even if other people have already replied to it! My open starters are open for a reason, and we don’t have to be mutuals for you to reply to them either :’)

—

–STUFF YOU SHOULD KEEP IN MIND–

• I am of age to do smut, but Berdly is a minor so that is a no for this blog! There will occasionally be sex jokes, but that’s about it. No explicit smut in this house.

• This blog is not a spoiler-free one. I will not tag roleplays with spoilers, but anything else will be tagged with Deltarune Spoilers

• I’m alright with roleplaying nsfw in general, minus smut. Gore, violence, and generally dark roleplays are cool with me. I love angsty things just as much as I love fluff ;w; Speaking of gore, you’re more than welcome to fight/harm/injure my muse to any extent! You don’t even have to ask! Come in and fuckin deck Berdly in the face, I approve greatly!! If you want to do a rp where he dies, however, please dm me first.

• I prefer not to roleplay with personals, unless you are someone I know from school or something like that. Personals in general are allowed to follow me too!  However! Personals are not allowed to reblog roleplays, in character posts, or ooc posts especially if I say in the tags that I'm going to delete the post later. Only things that are tagged with my "musings" or "art tag" tags are okay to reblog. Headcanon posts are not okay to reblog unless I say otherwise.

• Like spamming is okay! I very occasionally lose roleplays, and getting lots of notes from likes are never a factor for that, for me personally. If I lose a roleplay, it’s mostly just because I forgot, so that’s really a “me” thing. I’m usually very good at keeping track of who I’m roleplaying with and how many ongoing threads I have, and I reply pretty consistently, so just remind me if I haven’t responded after five or more days (as stated in one of the above rules)! And I like it when people like my posts! It lets me know that you like my blog and the stuff I post, and it makes me happy :’)

• If you are an OC, I will assume our muses have never met unless you plan ahead with me what their relationship is like.

• That being said, characters who have already interacted in canon will know each other. Unless the roleplay takes place in a different point of time and we are staging their first meeting, of course.

• Doubles are welcome to interact too! Although currently I don’t know of much other Berdly roleplay blogs lmao. I’m also cool with interacting with and following multiple blogs who portray the same character! Such as the Kris squad.

• This blog will not have mains. Other than the Kris at @daggcrisms. That Kris originates in his timeline in the "main verse". Excluding them, he will not have any specific version of a muse that he’ll talk about in threads, unless the thread is specifically about that one muse for some reason. For Deltarune blogs, he will typically be the Berdly in your muse’s timeline in serious roleplays, unless your muse is part of an AU/UA/canon-divergent universe, or there are things about your muse’s backstory that would contradict Berdly being in your timeline naturally (like Berdly being dead or something), or you talk about it with me beforehand. In his “main verse” in spontaneous roleplays/asks/replies to in-character posts, he resides in his own separate timeline. It’s a classic timeline that doesn’t have any other muses in it, so he doesn’t have a specific blog’s Susie, or Noelle, that is from his own timeline. Only Sponte/Kris from the blog mentioned above.

• I’m pretty lenient with short replies. Don’t feel pressured to match the length if my reply gets long! Multi-para (usually 2-5 paragraphs) is my go-to for roleplays, so I usually do long replies by default.

• Adding onto that, I honestly don’t mind one-liners. Of course, in crack/online roleplays it's fine but I'm okay with it in serious roleplays too. I prefer it if you don’t give me one-liners, but hey, as long as I’m still having fun with the roleplay anyway, it’s cool with me! I understand not being able to think of anything to write, so just as long as you don’t give me one or two words as your reply like ‘He smiled.’ or ’*laughs*’, I’ll be cool with it. Put at least some effort even if you’re only gonna give me one sentence, otherwise I’ll drop the rp once it becomes a repeat offense.

• I will not change the formatting of my roleplays to fit yours. I’m comfortable with sticking to only paragraph style roleplays, thank you very much. Feel free to keep formatting your own posts though, because I think formatting looks really cool! I just don’t want to format my posts, however. I will not go all out with formatting my own posts with all that cool ‘small text’, and indents, and bolding and all that. The most I ever do with my formatting is italics for emphasis on certain words, and using icons.

• I tend to move roleplays from asks onto its own post. If I send you an ask meme and you answer it, I'll respond by making a new post, tagging you, and linking to your reply. Until formatting on asks are fixed, I will answer any asks sent to me in a new text post rather than asks.

• I accept any sort of asks! If they aren’t answered after a while, either I don’t know how to answer it or I might be drawing it out and I am a very slow artist- Sorry-

• Feel free to tag me in any of those tagging memes! I don’t mind and I think they’re pretty fun to do! ^^

• Adding onto the above rule, you’re more than welcome to send me those chain asks like “send this to 10 roleplayers you think are really great!” because it’s super duper nice that you would think to send one to me! But don’t expect me to send them to other people, because I won’t :’) my anxiety won’t let me, so I’m sorry-

• If I follow you, that means I’ve already read all of your rules. I might not send the codephrase, though, because most of the time I get very anxious over having to send things like that. I’m very sorry–! But if I follow you then chances are that I have definitely read them before following- If you choose not to trust me on this, I understand.

• I generally follow every rp blog that follows me, but I might not follow some people back for a few reasons. Some might be for the type of content you post on your blog, but I am still non-selective! I will roleplay with anyone who asks (unless you wanna rp gross things or you’re a mean person,,,, like your muse can be as much of a dick as you want, that’s no problem but don’t be gross to other people as yourself) and if I do roleplay with you, I will be more likely to follow you as well.

• Adding onto the above rule, however, please respect that it’s nothing personal if I ever unfollow you either! It’s not that I hate you or anything, but if you haven’t followed me back and you’re a private rp blog, or if we’re mutuals but never really roleplay, our muses just don’t click, you spam stuff that I don’t want to see on my dash, or you’ve become inactive for years and/or don’t interact with me anymore, there’s nothing wrong with that! We can still be friends but I prefer to have all the people I follow be potential rp partners. Feel free to follow me on my personal, Briightskies, if you still wanna keep in touch but not rp :’)

—

–ABOUT THIS BLOG–

• This blog is OC, multiverse, and crossover friendly! I love OCs and have many of my own tbh, you’re all more than welcome to come rp with me!!

• I’ll also rp with fandoms I’m not into either, as long as you have a good about section for your character, which also indicates how you portray them (any headcanons or AUs you have that aren’t canon, or whether you portray them as canonly as possible, unless they’re OCs of course since a regular about page is a given) and I’ll probably look up other things about that fandom in its wiki if I don’t know what something is anyway.

• This blog is multiship! So any relationships my muse is involved in, are in different timelines unless specified. Poly relationships aren’t bad though, just saying. I ship pretty much anything unless it’s incest or if they’re children paired with someone a lot older. Selfcest is fine too (though I really don’t know how to feel about Berdly x Berdly,,,,,, I mean, if you want to try it with me, go for it lol!). Because Berdly is a minor, he won’t really get intimate with his partners, but romantic stuff is a-okay.

• I also only ship with chemistry. My muses need to get to know yours first, so don’t get disappointed if he only sees you as a friend/acquaintance at first and has no intention of pursuing a romantic relationship with your muse. Give my muse reasons to care about your muse and let the feelings develop naturally, and don’t ever force your muse on mine. Unless it’s to mess with him, or whatever other reason. Unrequited stuff is absolutely okay with me too!

• I will tag common triggers and such, but don’t be afraid to tell me if you have something you want me to tag! I promise I’ll remember to tag it from then on. I do not have any known triggers myself. Any trigger warning tags will be written as “tw; ____” with a semi-colon, not a colon.

|     Requested tagged triggers:

tw; gore

tw; spiders

tw; insects

tw; blood

tw; homestuck

tw; smoking

tw; drugs

tw; alcohol

tw; needles

tw; oceans

tw; cutting

duplicates // (if anyone else has a specific way they want something tagged that's different from my tagging style, please let me know)

tw; zombies

tw; bats

tw; maggots

tw; sibling death

tw; sibling peril

• I will only talk through the IM system ooc. If you send me a message through there, I will not respond with ooc brackets ((these things)) because I will automatically assume you know that you’re talking to the mun. I do not do roleplays on there.

-

Thank you for reading this really long list of rules! It means a lot if you did!

There’s no password, because I’m also anxious with those for other people’s blogs as I said above. But if you would like to interact with me, you can shoot me an ask directed to my muse, or like one of my starter call posts at any time (also feel free to re-like those posts so I can make another starter for you at any time!) for me to write you a starter!

#rules #links for mobile users #|| Onto A New Page || Blog updates.

[felldragxn]

Songs of a Dead Dreamer Aesthetic Meme

REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG AND DO NOT DELETE THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION.

The following quotes and phrases are taken from the stories in Thomas Ligotti’s anthology Songs of a Dead Dreamer. Some of these quotes were slightly tweaked for the sake of this meme. If you enjoy the imagery or writing in this meme, please support the author by purchasing his work. Content warnings for horror in general and brief mentions of blood, nihilism, unreality, mannequins, dolls, puppets, and some body horror.

Bold what applies to your muse.

Muse: Grima (Impossible Odds Verse) Tagged by: nobody i just found it on a meme blog Tagging: NOBODY BECAUSE I WOULD NOT WISH THIS FATE UPON ANYBODY

The Frolic

Absolute madness paired with a sharp cunning / an expression of sky-blue peacefulness / the indistinct happiness of the future / a piece of moon above the opulent leafage of spring trees / a broken-down kingdom of miracles and horrors / a Neverland where dizzy chaos is the norm / a cosmos of crooked houses and littered alleys / a slum among the stars / a jolly river of refuse / jagged heaps in shadows / a phantasmagoric mingling of heaven and hell / a moonlit corridor where mirrors scream and laugh / dreamy back-drops / ice cubes in an empty glass / shifting expressions on a lean face / vague suggestions and subtle jokes / an Aphrodite sculpture / the wind, cold and dead / a crumbled piece of paper / black-foaming gutters / the dank windowless gloom of some intergalactic cellar / starless cities of insanity / a bright freezing scream of laughter / a passing anecdote of some obscure hell

Les Fleurs

sorrowful flowers / lilting blossoms for a loved one’s memorial / a florist shop / flowers which open only at night / a hothouse warm smile / night-blooming cereuses / a sleek ocelot / well-preserved old places / plants resembling birds / white picket fences / flower-printed curtains / liqueur tasting of flowers from open fields / cool, clean offices / invisible wings whipping the warm air in darkness / the sounds of black orchids growing / the flower-bedded earth / a ripple of empathetic insight / a gorgeous kingdom of glittering colors / velvety jungle-shapes / contorted rainbows and twisted auroras / hyper-radiant hues / a marvelous arcana / tongue-like floral appendages / tongues flowering

Alice’s Last Adventure

Volatile years when anything might go wrong / the embodiment of topsy-turvydom / pools of rainwater / tarnished mirrors / moonlit windows / a thousand misshapen marvels / a universe handed over to new gods / stoic tolerance of a second-rate reality / two complete strangers gawking at each other / a shiny, pearl-grey casket / black orchids / a strange combination of relief and confusion / a delayed echo with oblique origins / a chain of occurrences with links as weak as smoke rings / a sunny autumn morning / a sense of duty, vanity, and other less comprehensible motives / the seas of the moon / costumed kids / the cries of bedlamites / the clamor of rambunctious kids / a half-cocked oration / jack-o’-lanterns glowing orange and yellow / masked children / a plastic cup of cider / shadows wavering against two-story facades / a lamp with a shade of Tiffany glass / a disciple of the bizarre / an autumn moon hanging in the blackness / demonic giggling / the moon / a clock / shadows in the window

Dream of a Manikin

A mostly tacit but somehow complete biography / a marvelous trick of the mind / jeweled lamps along the walls / lights shining on an intricately patterned carpet and various pieces of old furniture / star-clustered blackness / a starry abyss / an iciness drifting in from a starscape / a horrible truth / a legend written somewhere at the bottom of a dream / echoing voices bouncing here and there around the room / a motto printed on fortune cookie-like strips of paper and hidden in bureau drawers / a broken record repeating itself on an ancient Victrola / an alighting flock of birds / a field of dynamic tension / a dry sibilant voice / people dressed as dolls / shaking with tremors of the uncanny / a manikin dresser / astral ambience / occult studies and depth analysis / delving into speculative models of reality / cosmic static / harassments of the self / the boundaries of the self / a Bigger Self terrorizing its little splinter selves / cosmic ennui / a serendipitous discovery / this dream of flesh / guilty until proven otherwise / valerian and camphor baths / cryptic impudence / softly glowing display windows / the divine bonds of unreality / a medium-intensity shower / display-window dummies / rain-spotted glasses / a car with rain-blinded windows / a moment of self-terror / the mythical conspiracy of a treacherous universe / a galaxy of constellations / a vaporous glowing / a whitened hallway / dolls made up to look like people / eyes shining in the white darkness / a powerful psychic metaphor

The Chymist

Daydreaming in the key of Rosicrucianism / bubblegum and beer / a chalice in a church / a serum vial in a laboratory / the tartness of one’s smile / a very keen appreciation of diversity / decrepitude / the withering heart of the deceased / bastardized nostalgia / the putrescence of things past / arching mirrors / chrome chandeliers / second-hand fantasies and out-of-date distractions / one strange thing next to another / a genius of vulgarity / a lawless paradise /  violence without violation / a smoke-gray sky / city-soiled clumps of snow / fluxing clouds that swirl above the chimneys and trees / alchemical transmutations / the glamour and sanity of former days / a new mask of rats and rot / a hopeless stroll along the path to hypothetically higher worlds / a body whose true outline remains unknown /  the whims of chemistry / the caprices of circumstance / the enigma of personal taste / a leather vessel with a void inside / the skeleton of a dream / lights outlining the different venues and avenues below / a bottle of powdered light / pulverized diamonds / the flesh and blood kaleidoscope of one’s imagination / a prodigious insurrection of entity / a tempest of transfiguration

Drink to Me Only with Labyrinthine Eyes

The full powers of a master hypnotist / a mesmeric wilderness / marked by fate’s stigmata / crystal twinkling under a chandelier’s kaleidoscopic blaze / power and prestige socializing / a pair of metronomes / a glossy black cabinet / two bluish gems in an alabaster setting / a tiny sequined outfit / mesmeric stunts / intact and unbloodied / routines in defiance of death and pain / a jaw-dropping finale / a blare of heavenly horns / a labyrinth of light / a gossamer veil / snow-white wings / the angelic luminary beneath the human beast / the eyes of the audience / mock-death and bogus-pain / sinking deep into a downy darkness / pillows stuffed with soft shadows / a sun at the center of a drab galaxy / vacant and full of grace / a business card with a cloud-gray pearl finish / riotous rococo / a chair of blinding brocade / flowery fabric / a shelf of delicate figurines / tall smoky mirrors / a bottomless pool / a sky wiped clean of clouds / dispassionate elegance / postures and poses like frozen roses / pajama-clad legs dangling /a shiny chrome-plated pen / a very soft but not condescending tone / a mazy wallflower / cartwheels of agony / somersaults through fires of doom / nosedives of vulnerable flesh into the meat grinder of life / serene constellations / sweet nullities / a spell-binding, snake-eyed charmer / high society vulgarians / eyes recessed in their sockets, sunken into a rotting profundity / labyrinthine depths / dancing clothes all clotted with putrescent goo

Eye of the Lynx

Missing girls in Gothic garb / amber going on red / a reddish haze / a crazy purpurean tapestry / a fair-haired girl / denim slacks and a leather jacket / bloody moonlight / a long sip from a can of iced tea / persecutions and imperilments as glamorous as those of any Gothic heroine / violet eyes / the machinations of an evil-hearted malefactor / haunting second-hand shops / a strip of dark velvet seized by a pearl brooch / a frail chain from which dangles a heart-shaped locket / a whirlpooling lock of golden hair / gloves, long and powdery pale / the shoulders of heavy capes lined in satin that shines like a black sun / enveloping hoods / capes with deep pockets and generous inner pouches for secreting precious souvenirs / capes with silk strings that tie about the neck / capes with weighted hems that nonetheless flutter weightlessly in midnight gusts / doll-size in a dark doll’s costume / quivering bones and feverish blood / fear’s funereal plume / carriage wheels rioting in a lavender mist or a pearly fog / nacreous fires twitching beyond the margins of country roads / cliffs and stars / a blur of crimson shadows / vast regions of sublime desolation / mountains hulking in hazy twilight / a rather large animal collar at the end of a chain leash / a light the color of fresh meat / a page in a depraved story book / a single candle glowing through red glass / little zippers and big zippers / a moth-eaten cloak / enthralling cruelties / spangled eyebrows / a brow of glittering silver / glistening with tiny flecks of starlight /  the velvet embrace of one’s favorite cape / the tall candles one lights on stormy nights / chains of raindrops whipping against one’s windows / places where raging storms and brutal subjugations never end / the hardships of traveling to strange faraway places / frail little dolls / wild-wind nights and sadistic villains / corridors of scarlet darkness / a captive of one’s heart and its infinite chambers

Notes on the Writing of Horror: A Story

Something magical / something timeless / something profound / a sooty basement / the putrid members of a man who is decomposing / a plain brown package marked Hope, Love, or Fortune Cookies and postmarked: the Edge of the Unknown / a helter-skelter universe where things are ever threatening to go abnormal and unreal / a normal, real love / impermanence and decay / evils sent out under various covers / sublime and terrifying conflict / fearsome, fantastical, and inhuman / moon-trimmed shadows / lunar landscapes of craggy peaks / skeletal wastelands of jagged ice / a brooding Gothic hero / an ethereal Gothic heroine / a castle-like skyscraper / an extra dose of obsessiveness / the Gothic tale / a militant romantic / waves of bombast / winds of ecstatic hysteria / a partially shattered window, its surface streaked with a blue film of dust / a sublime sense of desolation / the diluted glow of twilight / night’s enveloping cloak / grimy azure dimness / bluish semi-luminescence / tears of confusion / turquoise haze / blue shadows of silence / liquefying legs / an old storyteller / the voice of a tiny insect crying for help from inside a sealed coffin / a piercing, crystal shriek that lacerates the midnight blackness / a haunter of spectral marketplaces / Gothic glory / a horror writer / an ardent consumer of the abnormal and the unreal / a visitant of discount houses of unreality / subject only to the rule of demonic forces / puppet-shadows / a hell so excruciating it is bliss itself / bony wings rising out of one’s back / jaws that are a cavern of dripping silver / rivers of putrescent gold running through one’s veins

The Christmas Eves of Aunt Elsie

Diamond-paned windows / a thick December fog / a serene congregation of colors / holly, both fresh and artificial / a pale purple ribbon / a ritual forever reenacted without hope of escape / a large chair beside a fogged window / crackling logs / a foggy winter’s night / bright Christmas lights shining through the fog / always dead with darkness / always alive with lights

The Lost Art of Twilight

A streak of iodine red / a spattering of flat black / the early autumn sun / silver hair / a gray suit / a long envelope, neatly cesareaned / the charnel house creeps / a silver shield / crepuscular radiance / an offspring of the dead / the progeny of phantoms / the big green eye of an EEG monitor / De Plancy’s Dictionnaire infernal / a rainbow of insects / the science of superstition / the Provencal countryside / a pantheon of gargoyles amid the splendor of a medieval church / a holy soldier of the living / a monster of the dead / the astral banquet of Art / the rotting flesh of rainbows / the sonar screech of a bat / vampiric origins / the oncoming onyx of a storm / shadows and sunshine / glare and gloom / bright clouds and black / iron-red leaves / tentative drops of rain / blue bears and yellow rabbits / neither a blood-warm human nor a blood-drawing devil / oceans of blood / the ravenous life of the undead / an authoritative impatience / eternal life in an eternal death

The Troubles of Dr. Thoss

Pale gray pajamas / thick sheets of paper / a bottle of black ink / a shapely black pen with a silvery nib / strands of blond hair, almost white / a sudden salty breeze / silhouettes and shadows / unreflecting windows / metal hinges squeaking somewhere in the wind / a sleepless night / constellations beyond the window panes / star-filled hours / the pure whiteness of the page / a flung shoe leaning toe-up against a bedpost / nothingness unstained by inner conception / white snow in a white sky / dark lines and vacant spaces / vast expanses of frozen whiteness / a church in a foreign town / assorted devils and demons / ice-mad mountains / a spirit of malicious abandon / nightmarish anatomies / a sickle-shaped scar of moon / sea-licked shores / dark letters / feeding one’s troubles to the sea / brown-leafed trees / a forest of memorials / clumps of crosses / groves of gravestones / dark, cowl-shaped windows / unblemished by shadows / the sound of crashing waves / bending dawns into twilights / static from a broken radio / breaking waves / seaside air / a gleaming crescent moon / a bone-white cicatrix / chronic insomnia / a blade of moon / white night, white noise

Masquerade of a Dead Sword: A Tragedie

The confusions of carnival night / gyrations of squealing abandon / lines between pain and pleasure / a rainbow of rags / a startling length of blade / pale pages elegantly dappled by somber verses / a pair of strangely darkened spectacles / the toneless voice of one who is dead to all appeasement or mercy / mounds of snow that had been sown with ashes / eyes as dark and swirled with shadows as the raving night itself / a constellation of designs / mad games of flesh and steel / a forbidden madness / dense forests of tall pikes planted in the earth / shadows rolling in empty sockets / lacerated mouths / the darkness of dreams / to see the world drown in oceans of agony / visions of butchering the angels / a god of deceit or illusion / chaos at feast / black with scars of madness / darkly clouded glass / the brightest and highest of stars / shimmering halls / unnaturally colored wine / red-smeared forms / many-taloned claws / the velvet fingers of a tightly gloved hand / a pair of leviathan leeches / a lord of the sword made mad / the dark powers which we cannot understand but only hate / rhapsodic voices in the streets / a privileged doom / the face of the soul of the world / the cool marble of the floor / an onyx-black knight / a face flushed with crimson glory

Dr. Voke and Mr. Veech

A scribble of lightning engraved upon a black sky / a long, brightly colored coat / noisy jets of blue-green light flickering spasmodically / life-size dolls hanging suspended by wires / wetted strands of a spider web / shiny satin legs / a beautifully pale hand / pulverized stars / dismembered limbs of dolls and puppets / the repose of ruin / an oily red glare / a well-dressed dummy / a white high-collar shirt with silver cufflinks / a billowing cravat which displays a pattern of moons and stars / wood waking up / a sleep that should have never been broken / something too painful for tears / the false fire of the moon / two faces sharing a single head / faint, hollow screams from high above / a dummy��s silence / leftover tears of berserk laughter / bluish-green irradiance

Professor Nobody’s Little Lectures on Supernatural Horror

Mist on a lake / fog in thick woods / a golden light shining on wet stones / a little trickle of suspicion in the bloodstream / the solar brilliance of a summer day / supernatural horror / a corner alive with cool drafts and fragrant with centuries of must / a rancid world rife with things smelling of the crypt / a sower of vice / mad winds / wan moonlight / pasty specters / the vividness of pain / the lasting effects of fear / natural-born puppets whose lips are stained with their own blood / dead bodies that walk in the night / living bodies suddenly possessed by new owners and deadly aspirations / the sepulchral pomp of wasting tissue / compassion for human hurt / a humble sense of one’s impermanence / an absolute valuation of justice / a demented innocence in the face of gruesome facts / the horrific reprisals of affirmation / the Cosmic Macabre / the shudders of a thousand graveyards

Dr. Locrian’s Asylum

Gray walls pocked like sponges / nights of futile tears and screaming / an expression of almost paternal forgiveness / the supreme delirium of the planets / bright puppets dancing in the blackness / a golden speck of magic / the silent, staring universe / something as pathetic as a puppet and as exalted as the stars / something at once dead and never dying / autumn constellations in the black sky above / harshly brilliant eyes / the remote places where truth had been shut up and abandoned

The Sect of the Idiot

Extraordinary joy / extraordinary pain / the great hollow of dreams / an infinitely secluded place / a world that both menaces and surpasses this one / a holy madness / infinite stillness on foggy mornings / miracles of silence on indolent afternoons / the strangely flickering tableau of neverending nights / deceptive depths of shadow / heaps of clouds like dust balls / a fluorescent map of the cosmos / medieval autumns and mute winters / kaleidoscopic windows / a kind of cataclysm of empty space / an earthquake of the invisible / strikingly clear eyes / a dusty trunk of dreams / a maze of streets / an abyss of stars / a great reaching blackness / a stale gray dimness / an alien order of being / an icy blackness / starry blackness / a great round moon / deep aquatic blue / the voids of astronomy / a state of both paralyzed terror and spellbound curiosity / whispering figures / stagnant moonlight / withered, wilted claws / drooping tentacles / the spinning legs of spiders / the greedy rubbing of a fly’s spindly feelers / the darting tongues of snakes / the triumph of the grotesque / whispering effigies of chaos / putrid arcana / an ecstatic horror / horrific ecstasy / the demonic elements of which all creation is composed / corruption in disguise / a cache of unwonted offerings stored out of sight / currents of fear / dark tremors / splendid scenes broken with malign shadows / the lurid and the lovely forever lost in each other’s embrace / the arch of an old street / tunnel-like hallways / sickly light shining through unwashed, curtainless windows / atmospherics of infinite melancholy and unease / a decayed paradise / the everlasting residue of some cosmic misfortune / a solemn, mechanical intentness / a smooth and solid cube of black glass / a malignant puppet of madness / dazed in darkness / embarrassed throat-clearings / reproving looks / words which could only have meaning in a nightmare / a thing of strange degeneracy / a quintessence of hellish delirium / freakish, echoing laughter / the whispering of strangers / twitching tentacles / a horror which cannot be helped  

The Greater Festival of Masks

The old and new / the real and imaginary / truth and deception / shops of costumes and masks / an incautious curiosity / shredded rags that are easily disturbed by the wind / a poster stuck to a crumbling wall / strange pathways of caprice / the outsized moon / silvery windows / doors which are elaborately decorated yet will not budge in their frames / massive shutters covering blank walls behind them / faces of dreams / sardonically grinning / innocence and excuses / a reddish glow of fire / a wad of bubbling blackness / smooth and faceless faces / the speaker in the shadows / the soft creaking of new faces breaking through old flesh

The Music of the Moon

Breaking the quiet of a moonlit room / enchantments that nearly make amends for one’s stolen slumber / some unusual shape leaping across steep roofs / a bewildering agility / many nights of sleepless hell / a knife / rope / a poison vial / an exploit of uncommon decisiveness / blank nights of insomnia / a handbill / ashes mixed with grease / a door with a faint yellow aura leaking out at its edges / small, shadowlike things moving in corners and along the floor molding / a quartet of musicians / a voice which sounds both exhausted and malicious / pale, ragged clouds of hair / sonic abnormality / an empty shaft of blackness / spherical lamps caked with dust / the silence of a dark, lifeless world / black silhouettes of human heads visible only in the moonlight / slow music in the soft darkness / a single note wavering in a universe of darkness / a incalculable proliferation of slightly dissonant harmony / the light of a quiet gray dawn / completely helpless, and yet content to be so / thick layers of webs / gazing at nothing with bleeding sockets / the moon all fat and pale, glaring down from its gauzy webs of clouds

The Journal of J.P. Drapeau

Unstained by any habits of the human / the ideal of everything alien to living / some molding backwater of the earth / the city of Bruges itself / a corpse of the Middle Ages / bony bridges / the black veins of old canals / a lonely evolution in shadowed streets and beside sluggish canals / the music of graveyards / a resonant chorus that fills the air and sometimes drowns out the voices of those who still live / layers of cobwebs floating about the near ceiling / a burst of resistance / the pealing of church bells / the language of whimsy / the force of stars tugging away at various points / the dark waters of a canal / shiny black hair parted straight down the middle / a low table covered by a red velvet cloth / a world that applauds trumped-up illusions while denying or demeaning those that create the very lives they are living / a spectral thing full of strange suggestion / an untenanted room filled with the echoes of nothingness / the eyes of certain crudely fashioned dolls / a greenish glow from a mirror / placid meandering canals / enwrapped in mist / close crumbling houses / odd arching bridges / innumerable church towers / narrow twisting streets / queer little courtyards / everything gone forever / an empty mist / an eternal twilight

Vastarien

Candles in a cloistered cell / shapes beneath the shadows / tall buildings whose rooftops nod groundward / wide buildings whose facades follow the curve of a street / buildings whose windows and doorways tilt like badly hung paintings / stairways that wander off-course into useless places / caged elevators that urge unwanted stops on their passengers / a sequestered civilization of echoes flourishing among groaning walls / thin ladders ascending into a maze of shafts and conduits / the dark valves and arteries of a petrified and monstrous organism / a desolate serenity / silvery cinders / the mouths of great chimneys / shadow-puppets / cluttered gardens and crooked gates / the purling waters of black canals / faded masks concealing profound schemes / a place of supernatural clarity and stillness / the crystalline glare of a lantern / moonlight through a curtained window / darkened windows / souls who believe that the only value of this world lies in its power—at certain times— to suggest another / a scattering of stars and lights / a coveted paradise / the most gauzy phantom of another place / a shadowy mimic / the anatomy of a great dream / everlasting echoes / a rectangle of smudged glass within another rectangle of scuffed wood / crowded shelves / remnants of a luxuriant autumn / an obscene reality / to dwell among the ruins of reality / shadowed volumes / scripture that would begin with the portents of apocalypse and end with the wreck of all creation / to become the wind in the dead of winter / to howl the undoing of all that would abide in warmth and light / an enticing verse in a volume of esoterica / the dream of attaining some untainted good / a disastrous enlightenment / some hypothetical state of pure glory / the revelation that nothing ever known has ended in glory / some strictly demonic enterprise / something about one’s presence that makes one think of a crow / a scavenging creature in wait / a large, two-headed shadow / the sad frustration of the uninvited, the abandoned / the brilliant rectangle of a doorway / hopes and curiosities of an indeterminable kind / free-standing bookcases / pages and bindings of uncommon texture / abstract diagrams suggesting no orthodox ritual or occult system / a chronicle of strange dreams / an invocation of a world in waiting of genesis / days distilled into dreams and nights into nightmares / a deliverance by damnation / nightmare made normal / a horror uncompromised by any feeling of lost joy or a thwarted searching for the good / a nightmare transformed in spirit by the utter absence of refuge / a utopia of exhaustion, confusion, and debris / a dialogue of mystification, and possibly one of lies / the edge of a dreamless void / a dark and devouring bird / shadows and moonlight / an unbending web of heavy wire / unjust confinement / a slender syringe crowned with a silvery needle

#ooc ;; memes #long post #the longest post #Fell Dragon ;; Grima #impossible odds ;; au #ooc ;; aesthetic