Multimuse ;

[deathlsslullaby]

D E A T H L S S L U L L A B Y ; Independent and selective multimuse containing supernatural and horror themed original characters. Strong triggering themes that will mention Catholicism practices, satanism, and witchcraft. Anyone under eighteen and non rp blogs - go away! Forever adored by Hillary (25+ she/they, white) Activity will be slow due to college

RULES | PROMO | HEADCANONS | MEMES

Muse list (all are active - links are mobile friendly!)

Aileen

Caelyn

Minnie

Viola

Hughanna

Sarah

Nicholas

Richard

Finlay

[serpentpawn]

S E R P E N T P A W N ; Independent and selective of Aileen McDougal, a fandomless original character. Strong triggering themes; satanism practices, mentions of witch trials, blood, gore, smut, and violence. Adored by Hillary (25+ she/they)

[firstblxxd]

@deathlsslullaby asked: [Cabin]

Winter Horror Prompts. ||| Sender and Receiver have been snowed in a remote cabin for several days. ||| Hughanna McDougal

Enraged was the wind that welcomed winter. A gust of snow and ice come from the south, barricaded roads from travel and trapped anyone who remained. Imprisoned within a storm of frost and endless action, skies were sunless and burdened by clouds, the distinctive clash of hail against more delicate flurries. Collided upon windows, cars, nature that hadn't been entirely consumed by bitter circumstance. Froze solid flowers and trees, leaves and petals akin to statues, emotionless, stricken by cold that couldn't be comforted despite best efforts. Sheltered by walls, styled to a log cabin and layered, the trip between the McDougals and John had been stalled indefinitely. An experience that he had promised would be worth the hassle - memories to last forever - an adventure away from town, free from people. Domesticity in its most pure sense, surrounded by woods, wild animals, the pleasantness of friendship. A chance to flaunt skills, learned in boyhood and in the Army alike, for John to spoil the McDougals as they had done for he, in a way that he could. John had looked forward to the holiday.

Overtaken by an enemy that neither bled nor could feel pain, the separation of hours became days. Siobhan and Blaise gone out to restock food and supplies, John and Hughanna stationed at the cabin, the four of them isolated in the end. Severed from society, uprooted oak had become a hurdle that neither he nor a vehicle could cross. Paths too covered by snow and troubled by slush; unwalkable, would nurture frostbite before salvation, the realities of discoloration, pain, and lost limbs. Fingers and toes bound to be compromised, a blizzard that couldn't be subdued, the agony that was uncertainty and an unfair power balance. John had tried to prevail. Scooped snow with his arms, tossed it about, shoveled a space that could potentially be traversed. Efforts in vain, obviously failed, he returned to the cabin, to Hughanna, in no better place than how he started. Waves and curls dusted in white, stiffened at their tips, lips shaded blue and cheeks reddened. John and Hughanna were stuck.

Worried for Siobhan and Blaise, but just as so for Hughanna, for hours, then, had John tried to keep the fireplace burning. Replaced each kindle when it turned to ashes, piles of smoke and gray, looked onto her so attentively. An old cabin unaccustomed to modern challenges, it had no central heating system, no telephone, no way to make contact with the rest of the world. Forever tied to its birth year - a century before, when both weather and man were kinder - its residents victim to its lack. Bundled in blankets, John was insistent that Hughanna not move from her seat near the fireplace. On the couch, wrapped up in all that could be found in the cabin, the days and nights become colder.

Breathing warm air into his hands, rubbed together, another piece of firewood tossed into the fireplace, John reached for the blanket that had fallen from around Hughanna's feet. Her toes exposed, curled, uncomfortable but wouldn't be admitted. She was proud, just like her brother and sister. His fingers quick to tuck her feet back in; tender, his skin like ice, not wanting to endanger her anymore than she already was. Crouched between her and the flames, John watched over Hughanna like a hawk, protective and selfless. He would do whatever he had to - for her sake alone.

Ignoring the rumble in his stomach, for food had become scarce in that little cabin in the woods, John did what he could to keep his thoughts from wandering. Starvation, freezing, fears over Siobhan and Blaise, prayers to God that they were safe. Hoped, believed, his hands caressed Hughanna's feet, to encourage more warmth into her bones.

"Christ, you're freezing." John mumbled, words weighed by concern, emphasized by his breath visible in the air between them.

Army jacket shrugged off his shoulders, his prized possession, his tribute to his brothers, his lost sanity, he laid the garment over Hughanna's legs, the span of her calves to her heels. He cared not for his exposed arms. More than gladly were the goosebumps scorned, the chill that trespassed across John's flesh. Hands laid over her, an absent-minded affection, to keep Hughanna from the cruel draft.

"I'm gonna go look again for more blankets. There's got to be more, somewhere."

[deathlsslullaby]

If someone had told her a year ago, that Hughanna would spend her holiday in a cabin - located in the middle of nowhere, with John and her younger siblings; snowed in - Hughanna would think that person was crazy. But here she was - bundled up with hundreds of blankets on a shitty sofa (probably had not been sat on in over a decade), the bright orange embers shined against her cheeks; trying to give her and John warmth. Hughanna felt hopeless. John and her siblings were doing whatever they could to help them, and Hughanna could barely do anything. She already had a shitty foot - frostbite, barely having any feeling to it. That foot needed to go, but Hughanna was a chicken shit. She did her best to make food with Siobhan, but the harsh cold practically took her energy, forcing her to stay on the sofa. Although neither Siobhan, Blaise or John minded - Hughanna still felt terrible. She was useless.

Hughanna's eyes were glued on that tiny, frosted window, worried for Blaise and Siobhan. Blaise had not fed much, and knew he was afraid that selfish desires will take over - harming the three of them. Blaise would remain outside, the winter may little impact on him, besides damping his winter coat. He would do his best to dig a pathway for them, trying to be hopeful that this wont last forever for them. But Hughanna could see within those red eyes that her brother was scared, not knowing what would happen to them in a few days.

"I'm okay." She said softly, taking his hands into hers, blowing some warm air, wanting him to be just as warm as he wanted her to be. Weakly, she took out her wand, a flick and a grey fleece sherpa blanket wrapped around him. Although the gesture was small and quick, she could feel it had drained more of her energy.

"Please, stay with - " The wooden door swung open, flakes harshly blown in - Blaise and Siobhan stepped inside, quickly slamming the door shut behind them. "We're back!" Blaise said happily, but Hughanna could hear the hesitation in his voice, he carried a large black bag, obviously whatever was inside, appeared to be heavy. Siobhan had carried two plastic bags, filled with cans of soup, and boxed foods. It was not much, but it was better than nothing.

"We found a gas station a couple of miles away, that's why it took longer for us to return. But, everything is closed - the roads, stores, everything! And I don't think this storm is going to end anytime soon." Blaise said; his immortal features remained untouched by the harsh winters - appearing just as beautifully handsome as ever, no hints of blue on his lips or flesh. Lucky bastard.

"Well, at least we can eat something," Hughanna would say, but brought Blaise to frown. "Yeah, but..." He sighed, a hand went through those curly locks, setting the bag down. "I'm getting really scared here. I...I...I really don't know how much longer we go on with this. So, Siobhan and I were talkin, and she's going with it, but only if you two will, as well." Blaise set the bag down, untying it to reveal several blood bags inside.

"I...turn you three into vampires."

[firstblxxd]

@deathlsslullaby asked: “If yer waitin’ for the number six greyhound…I’ve just been told it’ll be thirty minutes late.”

Inbox Starters! ||| Hughanna McDougal

John could feel the frosting melt from the corners of the box. A spiced cake with vanilla buttercream - layered with apple compote - dripped to the very edges of the cardboard, dared to leak in miniscule droplets and make sticky his fingers. Slow cascade, akin to the anxiety started in his stomach, the urgency to be on the bus ever increased with each new second passed. Nervousness, sullen frustration; to give to Blaise and Siobhan the gift he picked out for them, a token of his appreciation and something that would ease the bitter chill of the autumn season. Cold winds, the unfortunateness of a sun that dared to peak out, warm and hot. A dastardly fiend that hid behind clouds, feet moved back and forth while eyes shifted from one end of the street to the other. 220 pounds shared between, John hoped more than anything that the bus would come soon. Dollars in his pocket that had awaited for the chance to be spent, disappointment would be born, unfortunately, from more than just frosting on his hand, white and potent with sugar.

Nurtured from what sounded like a world beyond America, an isle, thistle or valleys of bluebells, angled features and sharp eyes confessed the truth. 30 minutes were to be put between himself and the McDougal siblings. His faithful friends, the only family that John had outside of his own, bonded not by blood. A small bakery's cake to be ruined by then, monies wasted, an upset sigh stole the breath that John held within his chest. Anger, understanding, the terrible influence of fate on his efforts in kindness. Hands unable to toss the box, fettered by determination, shackled by viscous of vanilla, the garbage bin paces away too cruel. Frosting plopped onto the sidewalk, an artwork, John glanced to eyes that ran like rivers of hickory, endless woods so alive. She was the first person to regard him. Acknowledged him - more than a patron with cash in grasp, to have a cake - could commiserate in the missed-bus misery.

Nodded in gratitude, the tap of his boot couldn't distract John entirely. Pattern that none could notice, a drum roll from the days of basic training, 30 minutes too much to bear. A fourth puddle of buttercream on the concrete, John turned to the nameless stranger, his isolation broken, a record of two weeks.

"You wouldn't happen to have any idea on how to save this cake, would you?"

John pleaded, the box presented to expose his plight. "I bought it for some friends of mine. Planned to take the Grayhound in order to visit them. Don't know if I'll have anything left after 30 minutes of waiting, though. Walking, that'll take me even longer. I'd really appreciate any suggestions."

[deathlsslullaby]

Christ, it's cold! Hughanna thought, knuckles formed inside her coat pockets, feeling some warmth surrounding them. The colder the weather had become, the more it had became one of her enemies. She did not like the winter, and coudl not understand those that do. If she had the money, she would go somewhere warm like Florida, but maybe someday she would have the opportunity. Or may just be an opportunity that would only exist in her dreams.

Hughanna was standing in front of the backside of a gas station, eyes eagerly looked around in hopes to spot the bus. She did not think it would be possible, but she finally found one of her siblings - Siobhan. Her youngest sister whom Hughanna cherished. Last seen when she was a child - small arms clung to her waist ever so tightly, begging and pleading not to be separated from her. A memory that haunted Hughanna's mind, and every day she did whatever she could to search for them.

Then, she felt it. Siobhan's soul - warm and strong. She never changed, and it brought her so much joy to know that she alive and doing well. With the use of a tracking spell, she found where she was living - an apartment in a small town. Surprise she never thought of remaining in Scotland. With no hesitation, Hughanna packed up a bag and headed over to the Greyhound station. She hoped Siobhan did not mind the unexpected visit.

Upon her arrival to the gas station, hoping the wait would not be long, until the worker notified her that there would be a delay. Well, that's just great. She did not - hold on. Suddenly, she felt Siobhan's presence. Was she here? Her eyes searched around until they landed on John - her presence was strong off of him. Has...he met her before? Her eyes then shift down to the small pile of icing on the pavement. Damn, that sucks. She would approach him, greeting him with a soft smile. “If yer waitin’ for the number six greyhound…I’ve just been told it’ll be thirty minutes late.” She would say, hoping to not make their brief interaction awkward. Yet, she found herself drawn to him, wanting to be near him. More so with the fact that he either knows Siobhan or just had a brief interaction with her. Still, if he did know her, then he may be a good friend to her.

"Hmmm," Her eyes peered over to the cake, frowning. "That looks delicious. I'm sure they would have loved it. I...I do not know how you could fix that." She would turn away, gently rubbing her nose bridge. Maybe a bit of magic could help. The pile of frosting vanished, no trace left on the pavement, and slowly the dripping from the box would stop. What frosting was left on the outside of the box would disappear, and the cake no longer appear to be melting - instead looked as it did prior - fresh and ready to be eaten.

"Would you look at that? Looks like someone's watchin' over ya, eh?" Hughanna motioned a finger to the box, smiling as she reached inside her handbag, taking out a packet of cleaning wipes - handing some to him. "Tell ya what, since we got a bit of a wait - how about I get us some hot chocolate. I know it's shite, but at least it will keep us warm in the mean time. Would you like me to grab you anything else? Chips? A can of soda? My treat!"

[deathlsslullaby]

I try not to have favourites when it comes to my muses; I would destroy the world for Sarah, Aileen and Caelyn.

[deathlsslullaby]

Favorite Films

Add 3-6 films you think your muse would like and tag a friend or two. For Sarah

Tagged by: No one stole it from @firstblxxd

Tagging: Anyone that wants to do this

[celestialprompt]

⭒⭒⭑⭒ -- 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘀: FIRST TIMES (sfw), part 1

remember you can send 'reverse' to switch the roles ! other parts will be posted here.

ANGRY receiver is angry at sender for the first time BED receiver and sender share a bed for the first time CAR receiver shares a ride with sender for the first time COOKING receiver cooks for sender for the first time CRYING receiver sees sender crying for the first time DATE receiver asks sender out on a date for the first time DRUNK receiver drunk calls/texts sender for the first time FLOWERS receiver gives sender flowers for the first time HAND receiver touches sender’s hand for the first time HEARTFELT receiver sends sender a heartfelt text/audio for the first time HUG receiver hugs sender for the first time HURT receiver sees sender hurt for the first time HOME receiver goes to sender’s home for the first time MESS receiver sees sender in a messy state for the first time JOURNAL receiver writes about sender in their journal for the first time SAFE receiver feels safe around sender for the first time SEEN receiver sees sender for the first time SICK receiver sees sender sick for the first time SNOOZE receiver falls asleep on sender for the first time SUN receiver and sender watch the sunrise together for the first time TEXT receiver texts sender first after a long silence for the first time UPSET receiver sends sender an upset text/audio for the first time

[deathlsslullaby]

@firstblxxd sent: "I love you." For Sarah

She set a yellow five Uno card on top of the small pile of other Uno cards, playfully sticking her tongue out. I'm winning! She held her handful of colourful cards close, feet swayed quickly, excited. Sarah was enjoying her visit with John, she always does - it has been the only thing she has looked forward to...since well, a long time. After all she had gone through, John was all she had left; perhaps it was her father's doing to have them together, but she knew in her heart that they were mean't for each other. She could not imagine herself starting a new chapter in her life without him. He was her entire world.

I love you.

Those three words brought her to pause - about to set another card down, slowly moved her hand away. Her eyes trailed over to him, staring, there was some surprise but there was another spark of emotion in those eyes. And her smile would soften, some pink tinted her freckled cheeks. She loved him, too. She always has, he was everything to her. She did not see a cold-hearted creature, she saw a teddy bear who had a heart of gold, and just wanted to be loved. He deserved that, yet, the world was too cruel to even think about giving him a chance. And she would be that person that will give him that chance, and give him all the love she could - until she takes her last breath.

Sarah would get up and approach him; her hand cupped his cheek, her thumb briefly caressed that scar on his cheek. Her eyes stared into his, lips parted to take in a gentle breath. "I love you, too," and just like that - those three words came out of her mouth. No notebook or marker needed. Spoken in a clear sentence; her voice coated with a gentle English accent, it was weak, being overpowered by a Californian voice, yet it still had a bit of life in it. She would give that scar a peck, ever so gently, before taking her seat across from him - setting down another card down on the pile.

[deathlsslullaby]

@hellsredeemed | cont. (w/Caelyn)

Although she could not see, it did not prevent her from sensing the exhaustion and stress in one's voice; Charlie had became an example. Poor thing, she was working so hard for the hotel, and Caelyn admired her for that. Mind you, she had some silent opinions on the anti-christ. But still, she was kind enough to allow Caelyn to stay at the hotel. "I see," Caelyn would say, not wanting to cause her anymore stress with possibly continuing on with the topic. She would nod, and smiled softly. "I am doing quite well here, thank you, for allowing me to stay here, Your Highness. May I ask what is the upcoming event for this week? I have been enjoying them very much."

[thelylacdaggermemes]

Send "I love you." for the receiver's response to those three words.

This doesn't have to be a canon event. Just something fun! Is it a love confession? Does one muse reject the other? Is it complicated? Is there reluctant pining? Are the feelings mutual? What if it's platonic Instead??

Let's find out!

[findmyselftoday]

Comforting, from Aileen @deathlsslullaby

Agnes felt like she had the park to herself. While others were occupied with school, jobs, and the mundanity of the daily, Agnes chose to excuse herself from her classes for this particular time, aiming to wander the town’s park by herself in hopes of finding solace in serenity for her somber heart. She thought as she strolled in solitude, in retrospect, that it might have been better not to have skipped school. At least then, she could have had a chance to distract herself instead of wallowing in her loneliness. The day bore upon the girl like a brooding cloud, this time of every year reminded of the loss that left a deep-set scar.

She sat on an empty bench under the shade of maple trees. Her copper hair left undone to cascade the sides of her face and down to her shoulders while her head hung low. Though her visage was partly obscured by the waves of her locks, her misery penetrated through the teardrops that fell on her lap accompanied by faint sniffles. More often than not, hiding was what she viewed as her only resort.

Upon feeling the presence of the woman by her side, Agnes’ head quickly shot up, hastily running her hand over her tear soaked eyes. Agnes apprehensively watched the other with a cat’s caution, noticing the woman’s eye patch and a searching gaze that exuded a strange gentleness. Perhaps she also was facing some hurt of her own.

Agnes appeared like a lonesome phantom against the breeze, slow and reluctant. She could not put her finger on exactly why she undid the shroud of her invisibility, but there was something about the stranger’s visage that spoke of losses that rended in their own right— ones that could be greater than her own.

When the girl felt the woman’s tender touch wipe her cheeks free from tears that refused to stop, she initially flinched. What surprised her was how she did not find herself retreating completely. Instead, she felt herself warming up to the touch, needing it, even; though she felt unready to confess her pleas, she knew within that she needed someone to dry her tears and share her space when no one, especially her parents, would.

“I just wanted some peace and quiet. Is that too much to ask for?” She remarked in a feeble tone. In spite of her words, her body’s response was not averse to the stranger’s presence. After all, behind the façade of sarcasm and wit was still the lost child from years past.

[deathlsslullaby]

A peak of red hair brought her to freeze - Siobhan? There was hope filled in her heart, for the first time, with the possible thought of reuniting with her youngest sister. As she turned - she was disappointed, but it would disappear when she saw tears fleeing from the young woman's eyes. Why the tears, child? Aileen wanted to ask the question, but would stay quiet, slowly approaching, not wanting to startle - smiling sweetly, yet it was weak. Genuine smiles were difficult for her to do. She would take a seat as her single eye fixate on her - an index finger went over to gently wipe the tears away.

Boba, the python, small head popped out from the cuff of her sleeve, curiously staring at Agnes. He will slither out and climb on to her lap, curling up. "That's Boba, he won't hurt you; he loves cuddling. Sometimes he thinks he is a lap dog - completely forgets he's a snake." She would say, her hand reached inside her bag and pulled out a bag of tissues, taking one out and handed it to her.

"Are you alright?" Aileen asked, her smile morphed to a frown upon hearing her words, bringing her to sigh sadly. "I'm sorry, dear. W-Would you be comfortable in telling me what is exactly is troubling you?"

[firstblxxd]

@deathlsslullaby asked: CRYING

Action Prompts: First Times (SFW), Part 1 ||| Receiver sees sender crying for the first time ||| Sarah Madden

Accompanied by Sam and the youngest guard on the force, Sarah had come to see John. Dressed not as a freedman but as a prisoner, his name no more letters but numbers. A meaningless, small piece to a larger system, an institution that would see his sentence served, the penalty for what was lost in Hope. Bitter and cold, safer than the outside world, the battle that would prove more easy to understand. Locked away, handcuffed and chained to hard labor, John knew just where he stood, the expectations and limits. No more was he abandoned to be confused. Scared, frightened of the dreams, the damnations that his beloved America cursed onto him. Dreary, gray, the prison had become home. Lonesome, horrible, it was no place for someone like Sarah. Sweet and kind, gentle and more delicate than John deserved; the sole person whose affection mattered most, her happiness. Never could words heal the hurt he caused. Never could what was undertaken for her sake, her freedom, comfort the distance put between them. Destined to be together, destined to be her protector, an anguish that always settled whenever they could be close.

A visitation that allowed for contact, silver handcuffs tight around both wrists, John awaited Sarah at his designated table. Stationed at the very back corner of the room, apart from the others, an exile. Eyes darkened in sorrow, brightened only when she came into view, joy unable to overpower the ache of his heart. Sarah hadn't changed. Just as was always remembered, pretty, a timeless beauty, the inner loveliness of her character noted in the color of her eyes, the innocence of her whole airs. Subtle cigarette smoke, paint stains to the edges of her fingers, yellows and blues, books underneath her arm. Dedicated so many letters to, to have her, it felt like a miracle, heaven found in the wickedest place. A grace that John didn't wish to be parted from.

Wanted so to embrace her, instead, John watched Sarah as she sat beside him. Adjusted herself until comfortable, looked about the room in a mixture of curiosity and hesitation, her hands rested on the table top. Appeared nervous, beyond her typical disposition, at the moment that John tried to speak, tears pooled from her eyes. Quiet sobs, shoulders trembled, her gaze unable to find his, blinded. Heartbroken, over what, John could only guess, the life that poor Sarah had been dealt far from simple or fair. Her cries too much to bear, an expression of pain haunted John's features, twisted them into something unrecognizable, was shared between Sam and himself. Mouth pulled downward in frown, brown irises clouded, eyebrows lifted. A connection that needed not to speak, without word, John extended his hand to Sarah's, the metal to his skin clanking together in a terrible song. Grasped her fingers between his, the both of his hands around hers, warmed and blocked out the faint fluorescent light.

"Don't cry, Sarah. Don't cry." John whispered softly, not an order, the proof of his love. "I'm here."

[deathlsslullaby]

Awkwardly she would shift in her seat, slowly rocking back and fourth; uncomfortable and heartbroken. Easily noticeable of the sadness in her eyes. These two months have been difficult for her, she has gone through a lot, but did not expect for her life to drastically change - once again. Her time machine was fixed shortly after their sorrowful departure - Sarah made a promise that she will see John again. She never broke a promise. Sarah could not wait to go home, but when she did - she was greeted with heartbreak. Her mother was not there to greet her with arms wide open and tears of joy - instead it was eerie silence and destruction. Her grandparents' bungalow house was destroyed - furniture fabric ripped off, and shattered family photo frames scattered among the hallways. It was a horrifying sight. The only one that would greet was Snowflake - her grandparents' cat. He released a loud meow and ran into Sarah's arms; a fat long-haired white cat was now of skin and bones. He was not the most affectionate cat, nor did he pay much attention to Sarah, but he was nuzzling his tiny face against Sarah's, claws sunk deep into her shirt, refusing to let go.

Don't worry, Snowflake, I am home, and will not disappear.

Sarah was a sight for sore eyes by the next-door neighbour, whom gave her the heartbreaking truth that her mother and grandparents were dead. Their deaths happened just shortly after Sarah's disappearance. Who did the horrifying crime was unknown. At least, they and the rest of the neighbourhood was generous to pitch in to cremate and keep their ashes in three small glass vials. Kept aside in hopes that they would be given to Sarah whenever she had returned. And those vials would be kept as keychains, attached by the end of her backpack, and would take a few photos that were not damaged much. Sarah did not have the heart to remain in the bungalow, for awhile she would stay at the neighbour's. Then, the day would come where she would pack her things, grab Snowflake and use that time travelling device to see John. It took some time to find him, but she manage to find out more of his whereabouts from Sam. A kind man who Sarah had high respect for, and has been generous with caring for her, and making arrangements for her to see John in prison.

Those stressful and tiresome days of survival for them at Hope never left Sarah, often replaying some moments that occurred within those days. And when John broke down, crying - that replayed in her mind over and over. It was the first time for her ears to hear the horrors of war, and left her hoping that her father had a merciful death. Secretly, she made many prayers to John's late friends, wanting them to rest peacefully. They deserved it.

Being inside a prison was an adjustment for her; she had walked in with her noise-cancelling headphones over her ears. The chattering from the inmates, including some shouting, alongside with the odd officer whistling or shouting shut up to a inmate - it was overwhelming for her. But calmness overtaken her when she saw John, if only he knew how grateful she was to see him. And she wanted to express her joy, but instead, the heartbreak caved in - bursting into silent sobs. Her freckled hands would take his, squeezing them gently. She held his hands to her face, kissing them. I've missed you, John.

She felt his love for her in his words, bringing her to sniffle and gave his hand another kiss. With a whimper, she took her notepad and marker out from her backpack, quickly flipped it open to a clean page and went on to write:

'Mother, nana and papa are dead.'

[demongatekeepr]

he is grinning ; wide & wicked. a hand swipes across the others face, close but not so much so that it makes contact. he closes it in a small fist.

“yes — tremble in fear, as it is now i who has gotten your nose! do you not quake with terror at my unholy might??”

[deathlsslullaby]

She was trembling, a thin fleece blanket wrapped around her shoulders as green eyes were filled with fear. Sarah had never been more terrified than right now - it was a ghost...or at least she believed it was a ghost. But it got her nose! And that was such a terrifying experience. It was a really mean, too.

Out of panic, Sarah would grab a pillow from the bed - throwing it at him before making a leap out of her room. She thought this would be a peaceful, yet average experience at this hotel. Instead, it has became a rollercoaster experience with so many unwanted interactions with ghosts. She needed to get out of here!

[firstblxxd]

Almost identical to the one that used to hang around his own neck, what had been roughly yanked off by a sorrowful Deputy Rogers back at the station, obedient to the heartless demands by Galt, John held the tags handed to him with absolute care. Monel made, stamped with the most valuable of information; R. Madden, Sacramento, California, the father that Sarah would never see again. Freed from the heaviness of his own silver chain, a trinket still within the police station, crumbled on Galt's desk and treated no better than trash, what remained of Sarah's father's was a stark reminder to a past that John had tried to escape. What he'd ran away from since '75 - the blood and screams, humid jungle and anxiety, the realization of failure. All the memories of dead or disabled friends, though dented slightly around its corners, experienced in both wear and battle, R. Madden's dog tag was the proof that the best of America's sons had tried, gave everything for the sake of liberty, for their families back home. A motive that John once lived and breathed; fingertips against the tag, he returned the keepsake to Sarah, intent to protect the beloved daughter of a brother lost. Destiny had made their paths cross. A plan that neither of them could truly understand, not yet, the work of God or the efforts of R. Madden come to pass.

Prepared for bed in a matter of moments, it took but one look from Sarah for John to accept the sleeping bag. About to refuse on the account of her own comfort, decided rather to avoid the argument and make peace with the tranquility found. A quiet night nestled deep in the woods, to have so much distance between themselves and the police. Assisted by dogs and seemingly an entire town; hunted and desired to be tracked, the time of reprieve cut short with all the seconds that elapsed. Hours and space grown smaller and smaller, John merely shook his head and welcomed his arrangements. Got cozy within the sleeping bag, tucked his feet and shifted until Sarah could be as close as possible. Her warmth radiated off; watched with sleepy eyes as the fire struggled to stay lit, ashes piled around the base, listened to Sarah as she found her own rest. Was attentive to her, focused on the sound of her breathing, John's eyes finally closed but his mind ever awake, alert and ready to react when needed.

Dawn peeked over the horizon, a range of rock and soil, at the delicate carol of robins and wren, John embraced a new day. Rubbed the crust from the corners of his eyes, regarded the sky of yellow and blue fondly, the bold spread of orange that dared to cast out. Above the tree line and where clouds began to swarm; nothing more than white cinder lasted of the campfire. A heap of gray, surrounded by stones, in glancing down toward his feet, John noticed that Sarah still slept. Appeared at ease, troubled not by her dreams. A picture that was almost too peaceful, too beautiful, for the world that they fought within, that they were dragged into by greed and ego, slowly, he moved out of the sleeping bag as to not disturb her. Cautiously adjusted his position, the flex and bend of his limbs, until he was fully free. Crouched low beside her once done, caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles, the ghost of her fingers within his hair still felt. A gentle touch repaid by one of his own, John's walls broken down just a bit.

The sleeping bag pulled from one patch of land to another, John used it to cover Sarah, a makeshift blanket that would keep her warm. A cooler morning bound to become a terrible afternoon, the perfect hour for the chase against them to continue. Wanted not to have to run on an empty stomach, the little that Sarah had packed almost entirely consumed, John left her and ventured into the forest to their left. Trained to survive on the bounty of the wild, the subtle indication of life drove him to begin such a search. Knife in hand as he walked the terrain, followed the tracks of boar.

[deathlsslullaby]

With a gentle relief sigh, Sarah would tuck the dog tag behind her shirt collar, and curled up to John; forehead gently pressed against his shoulder, as she found comfort from his body warmth. A tired smile briefly shown just before her eyes closed, not taking long for her to fall into a slumber. The sounds of John's breathing, and the crickets chirping - a sweet sound she had never heard; Sarah had felt safe in her sleep. Within sometime during her rest, Sarah would scoot closer to him. Sleeping in the cold night was not ideal for her, but being near someone whom she trust and considered a friend had made the experience far greater. John was her protector.

The brightness of the early morning sun's rays peered against her face, bringing her to flutter her eyes open. She felt a soft tickle on her cheek, how odd. Fingers gently rubbed as her eyes moved over - quickly she would frown. John, he's...he's not here. She pulled herself up, wrapping the sleeping bag over her shoulders, heart would quicken its beating pace. Don't fret, it's fine. She tried to calm herself, but the fear and worries crawled their way into her mind. He doesn't like me, he left - no! That's not true. He just...stepped away. He...will be back....r...right?

Sniffling as her fingers rubbed her eyes, attempting to prevent the tears from fleeing, Sarah would zip up the sleeping bag and roll it before stuffing it back inside its thin bag. She would let the sleeping bag rest beside her as she resumed sitting by the now dead camp fire, her eyes shifted to the other side of the wooded area every so often - in hopes to spot John returning. She did not know what she would do if John did abandon her. She didn't want to be on her own in this scary world anymore.

[moretrashyrpmemes]

Touch Starved Meme

My muse is touch starved, send one for your muse to-

❤️ - Hug my muse from behind 👏 - Ruffle my muse’s hair ✋️ - Hold my muse’s hand 💪 - Pick my muse up 👆- playfully poke my muse ✍️ - Write something on my muse 💋 - Kiss my muse on the cheek 😏 - Playfully headbutt my muse 😝 - Lick my muse 😙 - Cover my muse in multiple kisses 🖐 - Give my muse a backrub 💤 - Cuddle up to my muse 😶 - Quietly lean against my muse 👃- Boop my muse on the nose ✊️- Playfully punch my muse 🙌 - Playfully shove my muse 😖 - Bury their face in my muse’s chest

[sinndbleds]

Activity update: My activity will become more slow and less active on here, I am going back to college - taking the Digital Marketing program. Will try my best to be still on here, but I apologize for responses becoming more slower.

[deathlsslullaby]

@barbed-cudgel sent: 01. gently brushing the other's hair out of their face to tuck behind their ear. For Caelyn from Rocket

White rosary beads held between black finger tips, Caelyn mumbling a prayer as they sat next to Rocket. The gentle touch brought them to pause, a soft smile formed on their lips. It has been a long time since Caelyn had a friend, and they very much enjoyed having Rocket as a friend. "My apologies, Rocket," the would place the rosary back inside their bag, as they would then grab some peppermint candies out and hand them over to him. "I am sorry for my company to bring you boredom. I promise, it will not happen again. What shall we do besides stuffing our faces in peppermint candies?" There was playfulness in their voice, a brief sly smirk appeared as their index finger reached over to gently rub his head.