Guess whos back
back again

shark vs the universe

titsay
noise dept.
we're not kids anymore.
Show & Tell
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
h
Monterey Bay Aquarium
d e v o n
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$LAYYYTER

Kaledo Art
dirt enthusiast
Today's Document
Xuebing Du

#extradirty

Andulka
Cosmic Funnies

ellievsbear
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@deaths-labyrinth
Guess whos back
back again
@deaths-labyrinth
Confess a dark, twisted, or otherwise sinful thought your muse has had about mine.
On or off anon, it’s up to you!
Haunted History
“You might not want to ask questions.”
“Sometimes the dead walk.”
“Did you hear that?”
“I think someone’s out there.”
“You really don’t want to know what happend here.”
“There was a woman out there. Did you see her?”
“I don’t suppose the neighbors have horses, do they?”
“Sometimes the dead don’t stay down.”
“Cemetery gates are locked at sundown.”
“The school’s abandoned for a reason.”
“Stay away from the mansion on the hill.”
“Was that person acting odd to you?”
“Do you hear something?”
“Why do the the crows seem to be watching us?”
“There are spirits here.”
“More than just rats, cats, skunks and ‘coons come out at night.”
“There are disturbing things in this house.”
“Do you feel that?”
“You will believe.”
“They say a woman hanged herself from the balcony.”
“Is there a child living here?”
“Do you hear music?”
“What… is… that?”
“There are things you don’t want to tangle with.”
“Stay away from dark places.”
“Fear is good. Listen to it.”
Go into my inbox and tell me a situation you’d love to see my Muse go through.
Curious how my muse would handle heartbreak? Want an open where my Muse is irrationally upset or in danger? Toss all the ideas at me! I might get inspired!
Anon is optional.
(witch-of-annwn) ♦: Slow dancing, cause Emelia loves to dance.
The gentle lift of classical music hushed from the old record player set upon the oak office desk. Fitcher gently humming along to the violins after consuming more than a few glasses of wine.Turning to his house guest, he stood from the loveseat and offered a hand out to her, smiling confidently as he set his other arm behind his back in a gentlemanly manner.
“May I have this dance?”
@witch-of-annwn
An excited grin tugged at his lips when she accepted his offer, letting Fitcher lead her to the center of the room with the gentle cup of her hand. Setting themselves in what he deemed a suitable spot, he softly set his other hand at the curve of Emelia’s back and chuckled softly at her excuse.
“I agree, I agree.” He hummed humourously as he began to step with her, accounting almost immediately for her shorter step and allowing her to move gracefully with him. A lifetime of dancing with people shorter than himself allowed him a fair bit of practice.
“I never thought I would meet someone quite like you, Emelia.” He sighed out a smile as he studied her eyes.
“You’re truely one of a kind.”
Emelia’s somewhat enigmatic smile widened, as they transitioned flawlessly into the dance without a single toe squished or trod upon. The only regret she had was that her mid-length skirt did not do the quality of this dance proper justice, and not for the first time she wished she had more opportunity to wear ball gowns.
Though with Fitcher’s next words she found her eyebrow arching somewhat incredulously. “And what am I like?” She asked, without missing a step.
Men had used such words with her before, both sincerely and not. But she’d give Fitcher the chance reveal which category he wished to fall under.
And if he was sincere? Well, she’d cross that bridge if she came to it.
Fitcher seemed caught off guard by her question, but his steps didn't falter. He pressed his lips together as he blindly listened to the music, imagining what went through composers minds to create such masterpieces.
"Like me." He usually was a master of words. Usually.
"I...simply do not understand how to put it into words. I feel like I know you. Does that sound odd...? I feel like I understand you to the level of which I understand myself...but of couse, I don't... Nobody can understand another person completely. And yet... I still feel it?"
He furrowed his brows and looked away, his feet slowly coming to a halt well before the melody had finished.
"... I'm sorry. The drink is clouding my mind, ah... These are private nonsensical thoughts..." He dropped his hands from her and looked back slowly, a sigh escaping him as he tried to recorrect himself.
"What I think I'm trying to say is, that I feel like I can trust you."
(witch-of-annwn) ♦: Slow dancing, cause Emelia loves to dance.
The gentle lift of classical music hushed from the old record player set upon the oak office desk. Fitcher gently humming along to the violins after consuming more than a few glasses of wine.Turning to his house guest, he stood from the loveseat and offered a hand out to her, smiling confidently as he set his other arm behind his back in a gentlemanly manner.
“May I have this dance?”
@witch-of-annwn
Emelia glanced between Fitcher’s extended hand and the necromancer’s face, a coy smile tugging at on side of her mouth. They had spent a pleasant evening thus far, but Emelia’s curiosity was piqued with this new turn of events and she wondered how bold the wine had made him.
“You may.” She said, taking one final sip from her own glass. She allowed Fitcher to lead her towards the centre of the room, taking his hand and gracefully falling into step with her partner.
“Afterall, it would be a shame to let a perfectly good waltz go to waste.” She said once she was facing him. He towered a good head taller than she, but that was the test of a good dance partner: could he account for her shorter stride and lead her smoothly about the room? Emelia was about to find out.
An excited grin tugged at his lips when she accepted his offer, letting Fitcher lead her to the center of the room with the gentle cup of her hand. Setting themselves in what he deemed a suitable spot, he softly set his other hand at the curve of Emelia's back and chuckled softly at her excuse.
"I agree, I agree." He hummed humourously as he began to step with her, accounting almost immediately for her shorter step and allowing her to move gracefully with him. A lifetime of dancing with people shorter than himself allowed him a fair bit of practice.
"I never thought I would meet someone quite like you, Emelia." He sighed out a smile as he studied her eyes.
"You're truely one of a kind."
Finish the sentence in my inbox.
“I want you to…” “Why didn’t you tell me…” “I wanted to tell you…” “Have you ever…” “What do you think of…”
(witch-of-annwn) ♦: Slow dancing, cause Emelia loves to dance.
The gentle lift of classical music hushed from the old record player set upon the oak office desk. Fitcher gently humming along to the violins after consuming more than a few glasses of wine.Turning to his house guest, he stood from the loveseat and offered a hand out to her, smiling confidently as he set his other arm behind his back in a gentlemanly manner.
“May I have this dance?”
@witch-of-annwn
“Anne Rice’s frilly little bastards have ruined our reputation. Ruined it!” //he hates how vampires are portrayed in the media I had to! XD
Fitcher cast the vampire an unimpressed scoff and rolled his eyes at the unnessessary drama."You do not concern yourself with your physial appearance, but the image of vampires in the media is of utmost importance to you? Honestly I would prefer the public image to be of sophisticated romantics than throat ripping barbarians."@nocturnalbrutal
"Oh, that's not blood. It's... okay it's blood."
"... And I assume, that said blood does not belong to you?" Fitcher gave the stranger a glance over, his eyes lingering on the blood stains dotted on her clothes."That is no state to be walking about in public. Even if it is dark out."@ivakir
♠:Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.
Fitcher looked down at the woman with a curiously raised brow when she began to readjust his tie, flinching a little from the unexpected touch."Hmm... Am I not presentable enough for you, madamme?" He humoured.@lightofvanaheim
💋
Labyrinth gently ran his index finger over her lower lip. His action kind but his gaze cold and calculated. Lost in some deep analyzing thoughts."How on earth does your vampire blood work? Surely being a hybrid must cause some complications if say you were going to turn another individual into one of you."@next-door-nightmare
Vampire Starter Sentences
“Do you honestly want to die?”
“I wouldn’t eat you if you were the last human on earth.”
“Not hungry. Already eaten today, but thanks.”
“Have you ever considered going out after sunset?”
“It’s daytime, you better have a good reason for waking me up while the sun is still shining.”
“Don’t make me hypnotize you.”
“If every vampire made every human a vampire, there would be no humans left, would there?”
“The hell happened to you?”
“I could kill ‘em for you if that would solve your problems.”
“Not every vampire looks like they crawled out of a gothic clothing store…”
“I swear to your God I am going to end up eating you one of these days.”
“Satanist? Oh no. I’m a vampire.”
“Dracula? No, no…. Why what have you heard?”
“Anne Rice’s frilly little bastards have ruined our reputation. Ruined it!”
“All I want to do is live my unlife. Is that too much to ask?”
“Damn hunters.”
“I swear that woman called her children to her in this order; Edward, Jacob, Bella. I almost vomited.”
“You’re a vampire, you can’t catch a cold…”
“Contrary to popular opinion, I can control who and what I want to eat.”
"Oh, that's not blood. It's... okay it's blood."
Nonsexual acts of Intimacy - Select from the following for my muse to respond to...
♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes
♕: Holding hands
♖: Having their hair washed by your muse
♗: Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse's lap.
♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort
♙: Sharing a bed
♚: Head scratches
♛: Sharing a dessert
♜: Shoulder rubs
♝: Reading a book together
♞: Caring for each other while ill (specify which party is which)
♟: Patching up a wound
♤: Taking a bath together
♧: Your muse playing with their hair
♡: Accidentally falling asleep together
♢: Forehead or cheek kisses
♠: Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.
♣: Back scratches
♥: Your muse crying about something
♦: Slow dancing
Send "You're mine now, do you understand?" For my muse to be yours' brainwashed servant.
Alternatively, send “Yes, master.” For your muse to be mine’s!
Send 👄 for my muse’s reaction to yours tracing their fingers on mine’s lips!
Or send 💋/ for the reverse!