The manor has two silent guests that appeared from the darkness of the forest. The “Archer” and The “Wendigo” have invaded the manor, be weary and beware of the newest additions, who knows what they carry.
Inbox: open.
Submissions: open
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Info: This is an OC survivor and hunter blog! Canon and Original characters are allowed but there will be a story progression between the “Archer” and The “Wendigo”. Asks and Rps are allowed.
If you are sensitive to subject matter of gore, death and possible cannibalism then I will suggest you procced with caution but there will be warnings for the material and there will be the tag - beware the bear - that will be used for such events when they do come up.
No major NSFW besides gore and the likes will be shown.
Wayne awoke in his old sitting chair by the fire with a great start. He laughed, “What a nightmare. Allen coming back from the dead? Hilarious.”
The old man looked at the grandfather clock and realized midnight was nigh and part of him, a very small and frightful part of him, looked about for some spectre. “Oh how silly,” he said, “I am such a fool.”
⋆⁺₊❅.☃︎⋆⁺₊❅.
He turned to the embers that were smoldering in the fireplace and stood up to begin to look for a log to stoke the flames again. As he walked towards the firepoker a single ember jumped up from the ashes and began to grow. It fluttered upwards and out into the room as it became unnaturally large. Wayne could not help but stare.
And from that ember a face began to form, as well as a neck, then shoulders. And soon, before Wayne stood a figure in all white and gold with holly around their lapel. A large candle snuffer sat on their head, which was wreathed in what could have been hair, but glowed a soft golden light just as it had when it was an ember.
Wayne said, “I must still be dreaming.”
“You knew I was coming,” a voice echoed about the room, but the figure's mouth did not move. “I don’t know why you are acting so surprised.” They raised their eyebrows.
He looked at them from his place by the fireplace. “You ought to leave.”
“No, I don’t think so. We don’t have time to argue, Wayne. Stand up and let’s go.”
“Who are you?”
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. I feel like that’s self explanatory.”
Wayne did not respond and the ghost huffed. At least, they looked like it, there was no sound.
They continued, “To understand how it ended up this way, we need to figure out how things were. All of the Christmases before, or at least the important ones. So, come on.” They gently stamped their foot upon the ground and great glowing roots began to crawl out of the floor and surround the two. Wayne tried to run, but he tripped upon the wood and fell.
⋆⁺₊❅.☃︎⋆⁺₊❅.
He landed in soft snow.
As he dusted the snow off of his eyelashes and sat up he recognized where he was and it was not, in fact, his living room. He was in front of his home, but not the grand home he lived in now. It was the one he grew up in when he was small.
“What is this?” he asked the spectre, his face turning red in anger.
“It is not my past, Wayne. I wouldn’t know.” They replied calmly as they leaned upon the fragile wood of the house. “But I do like this place more than your current one. It’s more of a home. I wonder what makes this so much more comforting.”
Before Wayne could answer the front door swung open to see May Strickland. His little sister. Alive. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and she was smiling brightly. Her clothes were covered in patches, barely held together but on her head was a new pair of earmuffs Wayne had managed to buy her with the money he had saved up.
“Wayne!” she cried and began to run towards him.
He reached out to her, but she simply ran through him as if he were mist.
The ghost shook their head. “They can’t see you. You can’t touch them, either.”
“I gathered that,” Wayne snapped.
He turned to look at where his sister had run to and found himself. A younger, happier version of himself embracing his sister with a smile. His face had smudges of lamp oil and his hair was a mess, but he was so happy.
“I got you a gift,” May said to his younger self.
“May, I told you--”
“No, please don’t worry! Look, I made it!” She handed him a fabric doll. The stitching was weak and messy but young Wayne held it tightly to his chest.
“I love it, May. Merry Christmas.”
She laughed. “Merry Christmas.”
The Ghost of Christmas Past leaned over Wayne’s shoulder as he watched and once it was over, looked at him curiously. “She seems nice. And she likes Christmas. So did you, it seems.”
“She died,” Wayne sneered, “five years later. On Christmas day. Giving birth to my niece.”
The ghost nodded and stepped back. All was quiet for a moment as they looked at the figures laughing and fading in the distance. “There must be some Christmas you remember fondly. Let’s see…”
⋆⁺₊❅.☃︎⋆⁺₊❅.
And the roots began to grow up from the ground again. This time, Wayne’s head was not buried in the snow and he was able to watch as the wood covered the landscape like creeping vines, morphing and molding them into something new, releasing them when they were perfect. As the glowing roots receded, the pair were left standing in the middle of a party, a Christmas party with holly and drinks and fancy outfits.
“Ohhhhh,” for the first time the spirit’s mouth moved upwards into a teasing smile, “interesting.”
Wayne looked around to see what they could possibly be referring to and froze as he saw himself, still much younger dancing. Within his arms was another young man with fluffy red hair and smiling green eyes.
“Who is that?” the ghost whispered in his ear.
Wayne cleared his throat. “Um. Jamie. We were good friends.”
“Good friends. Sure.”
Jamie laughed as Wayne twirled him around and “accidentally” stumbled into the poor man's chest. “Oh goodness!” Jaime laughed. “Maybe I’ve had too much to drink!”
His younger self blushed and shook his head. “You haven’t had anything to drink at all.”
“Hmmmm. Interesting. Are you sure I don’t smell like alcohol?”
“Not at all.”
“Really?” Jaime leaned in until they were nose to nose and whispered, “Are you sure?”
A cackle surrounded them as the spectre laughed, “Friends! Really good ones, I bet!”
Wayne sighed. “We were… Something more, yes. But it didn’t last.”
“Why?”
Wayne did not respond and the ghost, seeing an opportunity, covered the world in roots again as the scene changed into that of an office. Allen sat not far from a younger Wayne, counting coins and laughing.
“My good friend,” he laughed, “what an excellent Christmas Eve this has turned out to be.”
Wayne watched as his younger self nodded politely, despite the heavy bags under his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
The older Strickland turned to the ghost and whispered, as if he could be heard, “This was before Allen decided to make me a business partner. He had me working like a dog.”
“Clearly. Christmas Eve? Wouldn’t that time be better spent with… Jaime?” The ghost mused as they looked at the clock, where evening was promptly displayed in number form.
As if summoned by his name, the red head entered the store. His soft eyes were pulled down in defeat, which Wayne had not remembered. He had, apparently, been too busy looking at the calculations on the paper in front of him to notice.
“Wayne, dear,” Jaime said, “ it’s getting late.”
“Sorry, I’m busy.”
Allen looked up and pursed his lips to avoid smiling. “I will leave you two alone. Enjoy lovebirds!”
Jaime only stepped closer to his love. “I brought mistletoe,” he tried, “you know what that means.”
“I’ll be with you in a moment.”
“Stop saying that. Stop pushing me away, Wayne. Please. We haven’t talked in so long. It’s Christmas Eve. We should be drinking cocoa or making snowmen.”
The young Wayne looked up at him and said, “We aren’t children anymore, Jaime. Please, I have work to do.”
The old man felt his heart wither. He had not remembered being so cruel and he looked at the spectre for some kind hint that maybe this was all a trick. That he had not said these things. But he knew it to be so.
Jaime tried one last time. “But I love Christmas,” he said quietly.
“We may celebrate next year.”
The ghost cringed and looked at the old man with disappointment. “Even if you hated Christmas, he didn’t. That wasn’t…”
“But I didn’t hate Christmas. Not then at least. I just wanted to have enough money to be worthy of him. We couldn’t live a life of poverty. I had lived a life like that and it is painful, spectre. I could not subject him to that.”
“And yet subjected him to loneliness instead?”
Wayne had nothing to say as he watched Jaime turn his back on his younger self and walk towards Allen’s desk and drop a ring upon it.
The ghost raised an eyebrow “A ring? You were engaged?!”
“No! No… He was going to propose. He left it with my paycheck and I didn’t find out until the end of the day…”
“Brutal.” The ghost said as they reached down and picked up what seemed to be a sort of bow out of nowhere. It glowed orange and yellow and red, just like the sun. Just like the ghost. And as an arrow appeared in the ghost's hand they looked sharply at Wayne.
“What are you doing?” he said.
They smiled. “You have seen the past. My role here is done.” As quick as lightning they fired off a shot into Wayne’s foot.
He cried out as red hot pain filled his leg.
“Yes. The past can hurt. I understand. But you must learn from it.” Another arrow into the other foot.
“What are you doing?” He cried out.
They knocked their final arrow and leveled it between Wayne’s eyes and smiled. “Now you must see the present. Say hi for me.”
A/N: Howdy Hey! Half way through! I’m not entirely in love with the ~rhythm~ of this piece this time put I can deal. Please enjoy and see you next time with some Tatya funsies!!!
After his long day of work, Wayne went home to his large house, where he lived very much alone. He sat by his fire with tea and brandy, a good book in his lap that he wasn’t bothering to read.
“Christmas…” he muttered. “Enough of that…”
And the room fell cold. The old man looked over to his fire to see it still roaring, yet now wreathed in frost. He rubbed his eyes in confusion and when he opened them again, the ice was gone.
“I must have had too much brandy,” he said as he stood up slowly to tend to the fire. His old bones shivered as he walked. The fire seemed to offer no warmth as he grabbed the poker and leaned over it.
⋆⁺₊❅.☃︎⋆⁺₊❅.
Suddenly, the flames grew immensely.
They engulfed the entirety of the fireplace, licking the sides of the wall. Wayne stumbled backwards and fell onto his back as he tried to scramble away. The flames only grew higher and the sound of rattling chains filled the room.
“Wayne,” a ghostly voice called, “Wayne Strickland.”
“Who is there?!” He looked around the room, which was now freezing cold despite the raging fire.
The sound of metal upon metal grew louder. “Wayne. Wayne Strickland.”
“Please! Leave me alone! I have done nothing!” He got to his knees to beg at whatever force was calling to him.
And despite the fire's presence the corners of the room began to be engulfed in frost. The chandelier. The door. His cup of brandy. They all had fractals of ice covering them like lace.
And from the flames, a face emerged. Bright gold eyes like coins stared at Wayne with malice and regret. Connected to the face was a neck and then shoulders and then arms that were clawing out onto the floor.
And the figure was terribly familiar.
“Allen,” Wayne whispered, “Oh god. You’re dead. You are supposed to be dead.”
“I am!” the ghost cried out. “Oh, great death did come for me with shadowed eyes and cold hands! I am long dead! Long dead!” The chains scraped against the floor as Allen swung his arms outwards.
Death had made the man no less dramatic.
Wayne cried out, “I must be dreaming!”
“Do not be a fool, Strickland! I have risen out of my cold suffering with the blessing of the beyond to warn you, old friend! Your heart is cold and shriveled and weak! It is chained like I am now!” The ghost pulled on the chains around him but they did not budge.
“Please, spirit! Allen Crowell! My friend! Leave me be! I have done no wrong!”
“You lie! Oh! How you lie!” The spirit flung himself towards Wayne as he groaned. “You have grown greedy and cruel and forgotten the true spirit of Christmas!”
Wayne paused before a moment as he stared up at the deathly visage of his long dead friend. “Ah… I must be dreaming! That’s what it is. The brandy must have given me the strangest of dreams…”
“You fool!” Allen cried out. “I have come from the cold embrace of death to help you, so that you might have a chance and I may be freed of just a few of these horrible chains! Oh these chains! Each weigh as much as my sins in life! They are so terribly heavy, Wayne!”
But, Wayne, despite being terribly frightened, had already decided that it was all just a nightmare. He stood up and began to walk away, but was quickly wrapped up in icy metal.
Allen floated closer so that he may loom over the old man. His gold eyes like two furious and wicked suns beating down upon the weary. “Tonight, dear friend. You will be visited by three spectres. The ghosts of Christmas past, present, and yet to come will arrive in all their glory and show you the truth! Your truth! And should you not see the error of your ways before the light of Christmas Day, beware! You will end up in the cold grip of iron in death, just as I did.”
And a great flurry filled the room and Wayne cried out in fear.
“The first ghost,” Allen continued, “Will appear to you upon the first stroke of midnight… Be ready, old friend…”
A fuzzy feeling fills the air as that festive time of year once again comes around. From the harmonious noise of carols echoing down the street, to the ever so sweet tastes of handmade goodie, not to mention the joy of finding the perfect gift for a friend! Oh! Its all too hard not to get caught up into the merriment of it all, isn't it?
But oh? What's this?
It seems someone isn't as thrilled to be apart of such activities this year...
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
-Collab Details-
Hello!! Happy Holidays everyone! Its crazy to think that soon this is gonna be the second Christmas this blog has seen. Time flies by so quickly, doesn't it? It makes me feel so reminicant and happy.
Anyways, this essance is a little special in comparison to the other 2 I have made. Why? Well, this one will have a fully written retelling of a Christmas Carol made for it done by the lovely @littlegloriosa! Thats right - a silly holiday fic featuring some of your favorite goobers!
The upload schedule will be twice per week after this post goes live! So keep an eye out for installments in the story under the following tag:
Note: Character Art will unlock as the story progresses! If you volunteered a lad, and don't see finished art of them here, don't panic! They will be revealed at some point before the 24th.
If you wish to see them before hand though, feel welcome to ask for their sheets via DMs or Anon :]
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
And now some words from Emma! Take it away pookums!
AHEM!!!! I write stuff. Please enjoy. :3
"Christmas is approaching, but Wayne isn’t feeling it. Everything is ba humbug! Unfortunately everyone around him loves the holidays. It would take a miracle to get him on the same page, though. Or maybe a few friendly ghosts…"
Hurrying over was the other's fiancé. The fox wasted no time picking up his dearly beloved and twirling her in his arms before giving his love all the affection they deserves. It had been long since the Shepherd returned to the manor, and it was finally time to face his soulmate once and for all. In truth, he felt bad running away for so long.
How long has it been? Months? Years? He wasn't too sure himself, but one thing was for certain; he did what he had to do for them. For any future visitors as well. Escape was something almost near impossible for the manor folk to do. Setting his lover down, Pearce flashed a smile and held Archer's hands.
"Long time no see. I apologize for my prolonged absence. The preparations took a bit of a delay... Thankfully that conniving demon did not disturb me during our work... How is everything? You look quite... exhausted. Do you want to sit under the trees? I can let you lean against my chest if you'd like..?"
The Shepherd was very cautious around the Archer, always looking them over. Taking their hands into his own, the fox gave a comforting smile. Now he had to be here, more than ever. If he wanted to make things right, he'd have to take responsibility for their future. This is what he wanted to do.
"I see you got my gift... I'm sorry I couldn't do it in person. I'm hoping now it'll mean much more in person... and I believe it'll mean much more with our vows. Gosh, it's been so long... And still your presence leaves a warm, lingering feeling in my heart. How I adore you, min kjærlighet..."
Someone might be a hopeless romantic, much more than he was before. Some people change for the better or worse it seems.
@ask-idv-shepherd
Suddenly hearing a both familiar and unfamiliar voice had Archer turn halfway before they were suddenly grabbed and spun around out of nowhere. There was a stillness in their body for a moment before their brain started to work and process exactly who it was that was holding them up at the moment. A low grumble escaped Archer passed their lips as they brought hands up to pinch and pull at Pearce's cheeks in punishment. Cheeks were slightly flushed as Archer tried to keep a serious expression but couldn't help the soft twitch of lips.
"Really? Do you know how worrisome it's been you silly fox!" Archer softly hissed, pulling his cheeks again with now tiny shaky hands. Despite being asleep and trying to relax for the time, they indeed were exhausted. Of course they were!
It wouldn't be a stretch to say that Archer might being just a little petty with their actions and words.
The mention of the gift, Archer took a glance at the ring hanging from their neck tucked safely in their shirt. It would mean much more if it was done in person but still, it was cherished and kept safe...even if 'Wendigo' kept grumbling and hissing at it sometimes.
The being really didn't have favorable opinions it seemed - especially as it seemed to start to gain more sanity and awareness in the manor.
The fox kept waxing poetry - it was probably what that high strung Orpheus might call what Pearce was doing. It wasn't unwelcome, just unfamiliar as Archer put a hand over his mouth. Lips pursued a little as Archer looked at him for a moment. There was a look of debate on how she should say what she had to. It was supposed to be special right? Or maybe saying it outright would be better. Fingers squished his face as Archer thought for a bit longer.
"I think you mean to say gifts," Archer decided to settle on those words. He was going to have to work and rack his brain for an answer to her cryptic words.
"Ow ow ow.. !! H-Honey! You usually don't pull my cheeks like this!! I know I should have warned you, but come on!"
His cheeks assaulted, and the Shepherd couldn't help but look lovey-dovey at the Archer. How hard had the beastly man fall for his fiancee? No one knows. All they needed to know was that he had finally found purpose, something to strive for again.
The other was about to continue his ramblings, only to be swiftly silenced by the other's hand and her conniving gaze. The phrase uttered out of her mouth made Pearce look slightly confused. Gifts? Was she referring to the ring and the home he was building her? Something in his gut told her it wasn't.
Despite his humanity, Pearce's ears started to twitch, the slight visible twitch of his nose as he got closer to continue sniffing his lover. It's a different scent, something a little more off-putting for the Shepherd. "You... Uhm... I apologize, but ALU began to pick up a new scent off you. I wonder why that's is?"
Gifts... Gifts... Was she planning a gift of her own back? Did he have to dig for the answers like a cunning fox? Circling around the other, Pearce continued to look the other over quizzically before his tail started to wag unsubconiously. It seemed to take the older man to finally perk up and finally realize what exactly was going on.
"Wait... wait, wait, are you telling me that time we... You're telling me it worked!? Did Emily tell you!? Are we really going to be a family!?! Am I gonna be a dad?!?"
God, he hated showing his excitement, but it was evident enough that Pearce was more than happy, hugging his fiancee and beaming. One thing Pearce had always wanted was his own family. If that's what Archer was hinting at, he was hoping for good news. Though, even if it wasn't true, he would still like to hear what she had planned for him. This was probably the widest grin Pearce had, little stars in his eyes. The innocent lamb before his slaughter all those years ago.
"I'm doing so because it's your punishment," Archer quietly grumbled once they were satisfied enough with the punishment. They watched him quietly as he continued to look at them - a light flush on Archer's face as they stared at each other. Lips were pursed a little into a pout as he looked somewhat confused at her words.
Slowly but surely he would understand. If he didn't then she was going to be upset at him. Amanda would probably have kicked his ass too.
The slight mention of scent had a quiet chuckle come from the Archer. The pieces were starting to come together for the Shepherd it seemed. Good, she couldn't help but think.
The excitement on his face had her quirk her own lips into a soft smile. A nod of her head was his answer as he hugged her. A hand went to pet the top of his head as seemed to be absolutely over the moon about the idea. "Yes. You're going to be a dad," Archer quietly mumbled into his shoulder with a light sigh. A one of relief of him being back.
Hurrying over was the other's fiancé. The fox wasted no time picking up his dearly beloved and twirling her in his arms before giving his love all the affection they deserves. It had been long since the Shepherd returned to the manor, and it was finally time to face his soulmate once and for all. In truth, he felt bad running away for so long.
How long has it been? Months? Years? He wasn't too sure himself, but one thing was for certain; he did what he had to do for them. For any future visitors as well. Escape was something almost near impossible for the manor folk to do. Setting his lover down, Pearce flashed a smile and held Archer's hands.
"Long time no see. I apologize for my prolonged absence. The preparations took a bit of a delay... Thankfully that conniving demon did not disturb me during our work... How is everything? You look quite... exhausted. Do you want to sit under the trees? I can let you lean against my chest if you'd like..?"
The Shepherd was very cautious around the Archer, always looking them over. Taking their hands into his own, the fox gave a comforting smile. Now he had to be here, more than ever. If he wanted to make things right, he'd have to take responsibility for their future. This is what he wanted to do.
"I see you got my gift... I'm sorry I couldn't do it in person. I'm hoping now it'll mean much more in person... and I believe it'll mean much more with our vows. Gosh, it's been so long... And still your presence leaves a warm, lingering feeling in my heart. How I adore you, min kjærlighet..."
Someone might be a hopeless romantic, much more than he was before. Some people change for the better or worse it seems.
@ask-idv-shepherd
Suddenly hearing a both familiar and unfamiliar voice had Archer turn halfway before they were suddenly grabbed and spun around out of nowhere. There was a stillness in their body for a moment before their brain started to work and process exactly who it was that was holding them up at the moment. A low grumble escaped Archer passed their lips as they brought hands up to pinch and pull at Pearce's cheeks in punishment. Cheeks were slightly flushed as Archer tried to keep a serious expression but couldn't help the soft twitch of lips.
"Really? Do you know how worrisome it's been you silly fox!" Archer softly hissed, pulling his cheeks again with now tiny shaky hands. Despite being asleep and trying to relax for the time, they indeed were exhausted. Of course they were!
It wouldn't be a stretch to say that Archer might being just a little petty with their actions and words.
The mention of the gift, Archer took a glance at the ring hanging from their neck tucked safely in their shirt. It would mean much more if it was done in person but still, it was cherished and kept safe...even if 'Wendigo' kept grumbling and hissing at it sometimes.
The being really didn't have favorable opinions it seemed - especially as it seemed to start to gain more sanity and awareness in the manor.
The fox kept waxing poetry - it was probably what that high strung Orpheus might call what Pearce was doing. It wasn't unwelcome, just unfamiliar as Archer put a hand over his mouth. Lips pursued a little as Archer looked at him for a moment. There was a look of debate on how she should say what she had to. It was supposed to be special right? Or maybe saying it outright would be better. Fingers squished his face as Archer thought for a bit longer.
"I think you mean to say gifts," Archer decided to settle on those words. He was going to have to work and rack his brain for an answer to her cryptic words.
Being silly with my hyperfixions and just doing a crossover of ORV x IDV ocs so if you wanna be a little silly why not let me infect your brain??? 🥺🙏 Promise I won't take much! » see what motifier they be here and I'll hopefully get to draw silly things
Like currently my sona and outter god Archer stuff still a wip
Being silly with my hyperfixions and just doing a crossover of ORV x IDV ocs so if you wanna be a little silly why not let me infect your brain??? 🥺🙏 Promise I won't take much! » see what motifier they be here and I'll hopefully get to draw silly things
Like currently my sona and outter god Archer stuff still a wip
I'm hoping that by the end of the week I will be back to drawing on this blog! Hopefully. Artfight has been great at helping me overcome a bit of my artblock and speeding up my time with drawing and such. I don't know if I'll be able to post as quickly due to some IRL things happening so I am having some duties but hoping this weekend if not next week to be back at my shenanigans! We'll see
annaxmalina
blakekathryn
stormborns
origamiaround
jbbartram-illu
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