( ❝ ☠ PLOTTING ♱ STARTER CALL — )
if you’d like to plot, feel free to like this post! i’d like to get more interactions for my spooky angel.

Janaina Medeiros
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
No title available
occasionally subtle
RMH
Game of Thrones Daily
sheepfilms

@theartofmadeline
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Today's Document

★
No title available

ellievsbear

No title available
Jules of Nature
Sweet Seals For You, Always
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
almost home
styofa doing anything
🪼
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia

seen from Malaysia
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seen from T1

seen from United States
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seen from United States

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seen from Malaysia

seen from T1
seen from New Zealand

seen from Türkiye
@lavtiena
( ❝ ☠ PLOTTING ♱ STARTER CALL — )
if you’d like to plot, feel free to like this post! i’d like to get more interactions for my spooky angel.
I can’t believe you would post something like that.
❝ ooc ☠
i was debating on answering this for the simple fact that you approached me anonymously, but because this isn’t the first message i’ve received on my self paragraph i’ll humor you for plenty of reasons which i am to list below. hope you read it well!
both my blog and muse are flagged NSFW for triggering reasons and truthfully i’m surprised you’re shocked by what? something that was tagged and labeled accordingly for a (dear gosh i keep forgetting) for a NSFW reason.
i do not limit my muse nor her development (never have with any muses) and whatever comes to my muse that is necessary for development so i can continue to expand on her personality, the complexity of her character, background and life as a writer i will do so.
i see plenty of male muses that do as they please on krp and rp in general without getting backlash but why must when a female muse is involved my inbox gets full of hate for something that wasn’t senseless, added to akira’s story and gave me further muse to continue writing a muse that i’ve had for quite some time now?
please take your deep rooted misogyny, look within yourself and move accordingly. i do not force anyone to follow me, to read my content, to interact with me or my muse. my writing is for my pleasure and whoever chooses to write with me is more than welcomed to join in on the love i have for writing via interactions.
( — death ♱ self para.
tw: r*pe implication & child abuse !!!!
❝ ☠ To change anything Vanessa learns that the Fates, the very beings in charge of all of eternity, do so with just a small price to pay. The way it is explained to her is a harsh reality of searing hot fingers gripping her skin at night. Screams of agony and sin burn their scriptures against her flesh as forgotten souls yank her into the existence of her betrothed.
Akira is afraid.
Fear takes control of her entire soul, as centuries of pain pour into every fibre of her being as she drifts into darkness; floating through time and space as she hurdles into a different reality, though she is unable to live it - being a mere bystander as she watches a younger version of herself emerge from the closet in tears. Her brother stands before her, his face so haughty and proud at the unadulterated damage he’s done to his sister and for a split second Vanessa watches in awe, in complete shock as she realizes that the God she worships in Sunday school would ever allow such an atrocity to be bestowed upon her. The ghostly version of Vanessa cries out, feeling the younger version of hers pain drench over her like a vicious wave crashing against the shore as her brother unbuckles his pants. It’s complete submission that he wants from his baby sister and though he has gotten it already, he wants to make sure.
She doesn’t say anything.
Vanessa violently sobs to the ghostly spirit bestowing this vision on her; cries out for the future that would have been as she watches her dearest brother violate such an innocent part of her. She feels the anger boil inside of her, feels the venom running through her veins with a ferocity that even the Devil himself hadn’t quite touched yet. “Enough.” she screams, and she screams it over and over again.
This is her punishment for misbehaving.
Lucifer forces Vanessa to relieve this moment for what she feels like is an eternity, committing her to the sin of her own selfishness. She is privileged he wants her to realize this. For when does the king of the underworld himself ever take a liking to such a simple girl as she? He hasn’t been this way since Cleopatra’s bare feet walked along this earth and he plans on proving it by breaking her spirit before rebuilding it.
He plans on sending Vanessa back to the world, the way he wants her.
WHICH TAROT CARD ARE YOU?
The Hermit
it’s a skill, to look inside yourself, one you have mastered. The endless corridors and shifting thoughts are mapped to very carefully. This all takes time, of course. And those twisting hallways are so very difficult to map. It would be so easy to get lost. You know this space so well. Wouldn’t it be a lovely place to stay? So well-known and comforting. Why go back? How nice, how easy, to dissolve, to hide from the rest of the world and all the people in it. Why bother, when you are so good at looking inside yourself. Like enlightenment, the self. Retreating this far inwards is like retreating just as far out, into the vast ether. So comforting. The thing that was you looks at the thing that was the old woman. There is no you anymore. Goodbye.
tagged by: bby @thecosmicsen tagging: everyone <3
( — ooc updates ♱ !
i’ve finally graduated which means i have a lot more free time, which also means i’ll be getting to replies that have been waiting and am totally up for plotting. if you’d like to drop our thread please let me know! i’m just so excited to write my spooky lil baby again!
( — ooc updates ♱ !
i’ve finally graduated which means i have a lot more free time, which also means i’ll be getting to replies that have been waiting and am totally up for plotting. if you’d like to drop our thread please let me know! i’m just so excited to write my spooky lil baby again!
( — page of swords ♱ jaewoo
thecosmicsen:
The insatiable desire to be persistently within the confined personal boundary space of the radio host sometimes leaves him with a painful lump in his throat. Is this a natural part of his personality where it’s undeniably encoded in his DNA that he has to be up in the face of her and anyone he calls a “friend”? Or is this the manifestation of the gaping void of time where he was endlessly smothered by his twin and this his way of mirroring his learnt behaviour of expressing love? The thoughts leave his head swarming with jittery apprehension with the lump in his throat painfully constricting his airway. He believes he knows what the boundaries are per individual but at times like this when he is reflexively shoved to the side with a renewed force of discontentment, he second-guesses himself. And he hates it. He hates himself when he is inflicting the same clingy behaviour that his twin imposes on him to the girl he is genuinely humbled to have the honour of spending so much leisure time with. With his head lowered, he mumbles out an apology. “I’m sorry, I went overboard.” the insult strikes him as several times severe like a physical raw lash to the face when it’s uttered in her native language and he visibly grimaces. “I’m sorry. I asked for that.” he bows his head again, only looking up in incredulity when she mentions girlfriends. “Don’t get your hopes up, Vanessa. It might take me years to meet the woman of my dreams so that isn’t happening any time soon. My energy is boundless either way but I’m sorry for crossing the line. I’ll try to be more mindful in the future.”
Cupping a hand over his mouth, he disguises how he feigns throwing up and gagging motions behind his palm. “I don’t know what kind of freaky videos you watch Miss Radio Host but that definitely isn’t one of my many fantasies. But I won’t shame you for what you like…” bracing himself to get another smacking blow from her, he holds up his arms defensively. Since he is no longer authorised to verbally insult the cat, he meaningfully draws out multiple looks between Vanessa and the cat she lovingly coddles in her arms for his silent retort. “Yes yes, got it ma’am. No more insults to the… cat…” here he throws another pointed look between the two. “See I can control my tongue! But wow, your fans sure do have a taste when yours is very… unique. Where is it!? I can’t find it!” he makes a show out of rummaging through her cupboards just to get her attention back to him again rather than the television or her nth pack of cigarettes. “A singing demon? I could easily outsing some minion your Satan sent. Do you think that would work? Although I might attract a bigger audience because I am fatally too good at karaoke. Ahh, what to do..” the thought of him dancing around with a makeshift mic in Vanessa’s living room whilst she tries to sleep makes him burst into laughter which is promptly cut off when he notices the look on her face. “Not that I would do that of course. I got my knife here! They’ll be gone in five seconds flat. Or will Satan put me as number one on his hit list for that? God damn it Vanessa, you just had to make yourself bait for the King of Hell or whatever he calls himself.”
The excruciating reminder that Vanessa is still lost in the dark about his foggy past and why he exists here as an apparition in the first place twists an ice bleak dagger in his heart. “There is nothing for you to be afraid of,” he softly attempts to reassure her although he doesn’t believe it for himself either. Since he already crossed the point of no going back, is it too early for him to reinstate the belief that he will never harm another human being again? For a split second, he can feel the ghost fingers of his twin brother adoringly tickle his cheeks as the life drains from him and pools into his hands as vehement crimson pools. “This knife is my weapon and you can’t take it away from me unless you exorcise me or seal it. It’s a great way of getting rid of me though.” he tries his best to keep his tone playful and light-hearted although his heart is sinking and he wants to look at her with the eyes of someone who hasn’t murdered his own twin brother in a heated emotional outcry. “I’m not murdering anything except those pesky spirits who like paying you a visit.” is this a repetitive mantra to console her or to instil his self-faith that he won’t hurt her?
Shaking his head, with some remnants of his current reality Vanessa’s mugs her scent the cigarette ash reminding him of where he is and what his current job is, he resumes with his tea-making rituals with trembling fingers. The comfort of routine helps him stay grounded for now as the soothingly sweet odour wafts around gleefully. Peaking his head out of the door, he energetically yells out without any warning, “what is inconvenient!? Come in and have the tea before it gets cold!” he sometimes feels the need to reprimand her for smoking through endless packets but he has no place to tell her how to cope with whatever her master bids. At this point, the burnt ashy grains are his solid association to the medium and he relishes some relief in the smell. “I don’t know why you think I would burn down your house when I’m a great cook. But anyway drink up before it gets cold!” he repeats himself before snuggling down with one of his favourite cushions, cupping the mug firmly between his fingers. “You do know that I don’t have any need to sleep but if it will make you feel better, I can pretend to. But I’ll still be on guard for those annoying spirit guests. Or do I entertain myself with the sight of Jigsaw here because he is the most beautiful cat to walk on earth? Is this a sleepover actually? What’s your night-time routine actually? Do you have a toothbrush I could borrow? I only use Innisfree on this face because my skin is sensitive.” he’s obviously joking about his last few questions but he waits for her reaction keenly nevertheless.
❝ ☠ Obliviousness litters its way through her conscience, leaving innocent gestures or words up to the other to decipher as malicious in some form. What’s surprising is when she finally reacts. Vanessa prides herself on being an individual whose patience knows no bounds, that takes abuse, affection and even conversation in stride for the sake of the person inflicting it onto her. However, there are a few circumstances that invokes the little bit of darkness in which we all have inside of us that she unleashes every so often. Immediately she feels increasingly bad for lashing out at him, small fingers digging into the palms of her hands as if somehow that would make it better, to take it all away. “It’s okay, I didn’t mean to get aggressive with you. Just,” mumbling underneath her breath she waves her hand as if to dismiss the situation altogether (the one time Vanessa wished she were a witch). “Nevermind just forget it. But thank you, please be mindful I’m not like you when it comes to affection.” Raising a reassuring hand she reaches her hand up to ruffle a few strands of his hair with fondness. Truly, Vanessa harbored love for Jaewoo in the same way she’s sure her brother harbored love for her.
The radio host watches him with utter fascination, seeing how animated someone that passed could be in his technical second chance of life. Her eyes narrowed at him, a twinge of envy gripping the depths of her heart that she didn’t know existed as she watches him flit about. Maybe, just maybe she too can get like that one day. Letting the breeze take away her worries with every windswept kiss Zephyr would bless her with. The moment he begins rummaging about, a small piece of her shrivels inside and she gets up instantly to come to his aid, fixing everything that was knocked over. “How about I make it this time, Jaewoo-kun?” his name leaves her lips in an insistent coo, anything to subdue him into letting her control the situation of not allowing him to mess up her things. With ease she finds her stashed away tea in the cabinet where along with paper affections her fans also send edible items that she finds delectable. At the mention of Lucifer her brows furrow and a small pout forms. “You weren’t there when it happened, you don’t know what I was going through.” mumbling moreso to herself than to him she walks over to him, making a show of slamming the tin can onto the counter like an annoyed mom. “You didn’t even look properly.”
It takes a brief moment for her to be reassured and she’s not sure she’d reassured for the fact that she can’t see her dearest friend causing her an ounce of harm, or for the fact that she knows the entities that worship her fiance will protect her. At any great point of emotional distress, she was sure to be faced with an equally horrific looking beast that swore their loyalty to her. “Don’t you fuck with me.” is her answer as she habitually reaches for the pack of cigarettes that she keeps in the kitchen (she’s going to quit one day, she swears). “Besides, I’ve seen entities with things much worse than a knife. If you want to scare me Danny. Until you fling me against the wall by sheer will, then I’ll be afraid of you.” momentarily distracted by her cat jumping into her lap, she lets her head tilt as she watches him make the tea with a gentle smile. She missed being normal. Nodding her head at his question, she gets up to make herself a cup of tea - but not before gently pushing her gentle familiar off of her lap so she can do so. Grabbing the cup of tea from him, she allows the warmth of the ceramic to spread throughout her fingertips. To her it feels like a gentle hug, a hug of reassurance, of a friendship so pure and unadultered even the Gods would be jealous of their dynamic. “Thank you.” is her gentle reply as pursued lips blow across the surface so she can take a gentle sip.
Priding herself on the bliss of nothing yet everything at once, Vanessa allows herself to be swallowed in her own silence, to revel in the fact that she was human, that she was loved and that she could possibly love others back without fear. Her gaze shifts over to the window and for a moment she basks in the beautiful hues of orange, pink and yellow - imagining how lucky certain people must feel simply gazing at the Earth’s wonders. The bliss is short lived when she remembers what happens to her when the sun goes down, and she jumps as her entire fight-or-flight response goes into overdrive and she puts her teacup down with a swiftness she didn’t know she possessed. “I have to protect us.” she mumbles to no one in particular as she dashes to her room to drop to her knees, pulling out the box that would allow her to sleep every now and again. “Don’t worry, it’s okay. I got it. Don’t worry, don’t worry.” repeating this mantra to herself makes it real (right?). Standing she quickly stands to her feet to bring the box back to him with an apologetic smile. “Can you, stand over there for me? I don’t want you to get hurt?” she explains, shaking the box in her hand gently.
dusk and her embrace | akira x hoxmarch
eljudnnir:
@lavtiena
An unfamiliar scent. As a gust of wind picked up from the north, swiping across the forest, treetops bent to its capricious will, leaves rustled to a low, whispering hum, an unfamiliar scent enveloped the sharpened sensed of a feeding wild beast, nearly catching it off guard. Lifting its head from its pray, the creature perked its ears straight up, growing eerily still so as to catch any sound, however quiet or stealthy, and determine whether or not it should render it a threat. There was nothing for the longest moment, nothing but the sound of the leaves and an occasional, distressed chirp of birds flying over the carcass and the beast. A single crow had found its resting place on a fallen trunk of a red pine tree and, with its head turned to the side, it observed the beast curiously, blinking only after long, intense intervals, wondering if the prey was to be shared. The scent lingered in the air, brought closer and closer the stronger the wind became and as the beast worked its mind around it, attempting to identify the source of the peculiar aroma, the crow thought it had caught a crack in the beast’s shield, jumping up from the trunk to spread open its wind and dive towards the carcass. Its effort was futile. Glowing red eyes caught the bird mid-flight and a thunderous, menacing roar sounded from the beast’s lungs, scaring the crow in time for it to change its mind and flap away from the canine critter before its razor-sharp, blood-thirsty jaws closed around its frail, feathery body.
The sun was beginning to set, the beast noticed as it continued to nibble on the flesh around the femoral bone of its pray. Somewhere beyond the tree line, a palette of orange, pink and purple was beginning to cast across the woods and the sky, dimming with every passing quarter of an hour, leaving the world quieter. The creature thought that if it finished its meal before the sun completely disappeared behind the horizon, it would be able to make a timely trip back home, before its owner grew impatient, before it had to be summoned back by force. If only there had not been for the unfamiliar scent, growing stronger, unidentifiable as of yet, and still so very alluring. The creature’s mouth watered, not because of its meal, but because of what or who might have been behind the aroma the wind was carrying, the beast considering staying up a bit later just so that it could discover what was hiding somewhere out there.
As teeth dug into more flesh, the creature remained alert, ears kept up and its eyes scanning its surroundings, curiosity at its peak and a vague sense of HOPING that before it was done, the mystery would be unveiled. And it was. Someone’s foot stepped on a twig and cracked it in half, causing the beast’s head to rise straight up, its body to climb back on all fours, skeletal paws digging into the ground to keep the hellhound steady as whoever or whatever it was behind the bushes was about to make its first appearance. To say that Hoxmarch was disappointed was an exaggeration: not a few seconds more had passed when a confused, but distressed looking female appeared before him, eyes focused on his own as they started their stare-down. She was human. Nothing but a frail, biped mortal. Yet, why did she smell like that? Why did his senses grow sharper and his body more tense as he watched the female? As a warning, he growled at her, baring his teeth. What do you want? he spoke inside her head, his voice echoing as another gust of brisk, early spring wind blew, carrying both the stench of his prey and her unique aroma.
❝ ☠ His love is suffocating whenever he visits her; dark tendrils wrapping around her frame with a possessive nature, heavy mist filling her lungs with the weight of his affection, ears constantly subjected to the fallen angels’ melodies. Secretly she loves the attention he gives her even though her only request from him while she still belonged to the mortal world, that he save his physical affections for her soul when she was to pass. But that still doesn’t stop him from creeping through her window, whisking her away into the forest for romantic, moonlit adventures to which she silently loathes. Whenever he spends time with her is the only time she can sleep properly through the night (who need lucifer could be so needy). This night is like no other, only when pressing matters arise he leaves her at the forest edge, kissing her cheeks before bidding his soon to be bride farewell. However his love comes with stipulations, with a ferocious consequence that leaves Vanessa to be momentarily intoxicated by evil. She’s used to it by now and when her soul feels as if it’s shifting to accommodate another she reluctantly sighs, prepared to let whoever enjoy her body for an hour or two.
Vanessa can’t account for the hours but when she finally comes to, the scene before her is horrifying - chills her bone to the very marrow. Gasping, she falls on her rear, hands clutching at the dirt beneath her fingers to recoil her further away from the beast. Bottom lip trembling, Vanessa ignores the collecting tears blurring her vision as she thinks over the possibility of her losing her life so early (at least if she were to die early she wanted to take her life herself). When she hears the voice in her head, she lets out a high pitched shriek, and she shifts to being on her knees, soft mumbles of prayer leaving her lips. For the bride of Lucifer you would think she’d be used to being forsaken. But it’s a rejuvenating experience each and every time, when she’s introduced to a new creature she’s sure to have power over in the upcoming years. “What are you?” she questions aloud, her mouth agape in complete awe at being able to hear the creature in her mind. “Please tell me you’re not one of Lucy’s kids.” practically pleading she slowly, rises to her feet - ignoring the trembling of her knees as she stands, placing a hand on a tree for leverage, she beholds the raw power and beauty in front of her. There’s a part of her that can’t wait to transfer over to the next life to watch all of the beautiful creatures in their natural habitat - but right now, as a mortal she can find several things more amusing than her current situation.
“Don’t hurt me, please.” Really, one would think she’d have a conversation about these mishaps with the one she calls her beloved when no one else is around - however the infamous lady of salem continuously saw herself in situations that could make an angel faint. “I just got lost is all. I’m sorry for intruding.” Scrambling to her feet, Vanessa turns quickly only to make a wrong step sending shooting pain throughout her foot the moment it connects with a sharp rock. Audibly cursing, she’s knocked on her rear again as she cradles her foot and she quickly asses the situation she’s in, making it obvious that she’s not looking. Raising her hand she shields her eyes, pursed lips looking for the right words to say without getting herself in trouble. “Listen you can just walk away, or whatever you want and take your food with you and I’ll just get Lucifer to take me home and out of your hair eventually.” Reaffirming her words with her free hand she holds up her pinky, promising the creature that she’d stay true to her word.
( — discord call ♱ !
i’m feeling a little under the weather, and have also been informed that people use discord for plotting person and some ic interactions. i made a discord for nessa and you can find me @ elvriv#7739 or feel free to comment yours and i’ll happily add you!
clairdclunc:
If his Watcher would still be here and not enjoying his pension in the UK, he would have smacked Minho’s head now. He has always said that his job was not something he could choose to do, but it was his obligation. Shit kind of obligation that makes you hold back from living a normal life. With both hands, Minho ran through his hair before he sighed and sat up straighter again. He knew that he was not going to get out of this and if this woman would get hurt later on because Minho didn’t help, he wouldn’t forgive himself. No matter how cold he acted all the time, his weak heart would still make him do things his brain didn’t want to do. One of his hands gestured to the free seat next to him. ❝ I have no price. It’s my job after all, a job I don’t get paid, that is against the…well rules if you want to say it like that. ❞ A lopsided smirk appeared on his lips. ❝ Do you want something to drink? You look a little…well…to put it nicely, you look stressed. So I assume it’s serious. What is it? With what can I help? ❞ You can’t run away from your fate, right?
❝ ☠ There is no such thing to the medium as a fair individual, one that’s virtuous and righteous all in their own rite as they extend both of their hands to help those in need. His attitude does not phase her and at the slightest implication of him possibly saying no does her heart sink momentarily, only to be revitalized with the extended conversation. “I wouldn’t feel right not paying you for your services.” she admits as she takes a seat, gentle fingers begging the skin on her cheeks to return to life replacing the dastardly pale skin that causes others to whisper about her well being. “Saying stressed is putting it nicely, I’m fine thank you for asking.” Instead of a drink, she pulls out a box of cigarettes as if it were a safety blanket - quick to begin her ritual of relieving stress in the form of toxic smoke. “At first, I thought it was just a regular demon. They come and go whenever they please,” trailing off her gaze fixates on the people behind him. “But they never try and hurt me. This one did.” The memory is enough to make her heart skip a beat and with her free hand she’s able to slip it underneath the table to dig her nails into her thigh punishing herself. “I didn’t want to tell Lucy… But I’m afraid.” She whispers, biting the corner of her lip. “Can you stop him from hurting me?”
𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆. ( repost, don’t reblog )
NAME: Akira Miyazaki ALIAS: Vanessa AGE: 25 FAMILY: Mother, Father and Older Brother SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Nonexistent offline: Lucy
𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻.
RELIGIOUS BELIEF: Catholic SINS: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: She wants to expand her platform to give a voice to the people that are often shunned because they don’t fit into traditional hobbies, and interests. Her main goal is to get the general public to accept those into gothic styles, supernatural enthusiasts and people that stray more towards the dark side without causing anyone any harm. Another goal that she has is to repair her relationship with her brother. KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Japanese, Korean, High School Spanish, and Ancient Latin SECRETS: She’s able to summon and control demons at her leisure due to her promising her hand in marriage to the King of The Underworld when she was 12 years old, and often whenever Vanessa goes through high stress inducing situations those demons often get rid of her stressors curiosity of Lucifer. Due to that she has unknowingly been responsible for the death of a few people. SAVVIES: Shamanism, baking,
𝙿𝙷𝚈𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻.
BUILD: scrawny / bony / slender / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average HEIGHT: 168 cm SCARS / MARKS: She has a jagged scar right above her right eye ABILITIES / POWERS: She can talk, see, feel ghosts and summon demons and Lucifer whenever she wants. RESTRICTIONS: When she’s having an emotional break down, demons come in and out of the mortal realm whenever they please.
𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚂.
FOOD: sukiyaki, kare raisu, spicy tteokbokki, fried chicken, and ramen DRINK: Thai Tea, Green tea, Melon milk PIZZA TOPPING: Peppers COLOUR: Purple MUSIC GENRE: Pop, soft indie, alternative indie but listens to mainstream music BOOK GENRE: Thrillers MOVIE GENRE: Horror SEASON: Winter CURSE WORD: Shit SCENT(S): an ambery, musky composition consisting of oriental spices, exotic florals, and mrryh
𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙼.
BOTTOM OR TOP: i wanna say she’s a closeted top SINGS IN THE SHOWER: sometimes LIKES BAD PUNS: she’ll just blink at you honestly
tagged by: @thecosmicsen & @witchtyranny tagging: @macaberr @kkotseo @kkxai @judeonae @jaesilk @eljudnnir @east--moon
oleandercrowns:
@lavtiena cont from here x
Dorian makes his way down the stairs trying to figure out where the noise is coming from, it sounds like faint scratching, like there’s mice in the walls as he shines his flashlight toward the window and then down the hall. It moves with his light, moves as if it’s leading him somewhere else and he glances toward Vanessa, not wanting to wake her, it’d been hard enough to make her feel comfortable enough to sleep here. He can’t blame her though, even Charlie had warned him that it wasn’t a good idea to take her to the crime scene, a visit was one thing but to spend the night? It left her vulnerable to attacks, left her open to whatever still lingered there but Dorian had merely shook his head. He’d promised to protect her, swore he would as he walks down the stairs, glancing back toward the room once more. Whoever this killer was, they had to be found, had to be stopped before they murdered someone else as he glances around, flipping the switch on but the lights don’t respond. He can feel it, the chill in the air as he tries the switch again only for it to do nothing, no lights, no sounds, no electrical hum as he takes a step back up the stairs. This isn’t right, his light flashes around the room but the scratching he once heard is now distant, coming from above him, Vanessa. Dorian swears under his breath as he hurries back up the steps, his stomach churns as the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand on end.
There is no running from this, whatever t h i s is. He knows he can’t run no matter how badly he feels like he’s been placed in some twisted horror movie. Ghosts were not something to play around with, Charlie had made that much clear throughout his years of living with them, but now as he’s confronted with using them to solve a case; he almost wishes he’d never learned they were real. He moves into the room just in time to hear her scream and he snarls loudly as he uses the moonlight to find her form, wrapping her in his arms, takes the punches to his shoulder in stride before he’s chuckling. Adrenaline races through him and he flips the flashlight around, ready to use it as a weapon… against what though? He can’t see them, can’t feel them like Charlie and Vanessa can and it makes him feel useless as he watches the lights flick on, “oh now you turn on,” he mutters under his breath as he glowers around the room. Her voice echoes off the walls and he gives her an apologetic look as he nods his head, shrugging out of his jacket as he slips it over her slender frame. “I know I know I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put you in this position in the first place I just… I wasn’t thinking.” Dorian admits as he gently brushes her hair back from her features. He deserves it, deserves to be yelled at and hit as his frown deepens at the sound. He can’t see whatever it is but he can sure as hell rule out what it’s not.
He’s about to open the doors when the floorboards creek and he’s quick to reach out, pulling Vanessa against him as she clambers toward him, his gaze immediately darting around the room for the threat she so clearly sees. He hides his unease as he tightens his grip around her, pulling her more beside himself rather than keeping her in front of him. “What do you mean, terrifying?” He chuckles sheepishly, this isn’t the movies, something isn’t going to be crawling on the ceiling r i g h t? Grey hues chance a glance just to be sure as he stares at what he thinks is just a trick of the light, a hand raising, his finger pointing toward the corner. “Tell me something isn’t there. That I’m just… seeing things.” Dorian murmurs, his gaze finally leaving the corner of the room to look down upon the woman beside him, “if we both get out of here we’re b o t h getting extra pay, I don’t care what anyone says. Fuck it, I’ll buy you dinner for a month.” Humor is what he goes to in tense situations, if he can’t laugh in the face of death well, it’s better than the alternative which is curling up and giving it the satisfaction of his fear. “But you said the victims want to help? How are they going to help? Can they tell us who killed them? Or maybe where they’re going to strike next? Something to help put that m o n s t e r behind bars where he can never hurt anyone else again.”
❝ ☠ There were things about the medium that like precious treasures she kept hidden, secrets that made people afraid of her and Vanessa is no stranger to being abandoned when secrets are revealed. So she chooses to hold them close. Being in the space didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would, after all the demons that plague her often protect the person that is to rule over them. Entities wouldn’t dare attempt to step on the toes of those directly born from evil. Truthfully she wanted to make sure Dorian was safe. A man that made her cheeks flush and little flutters in her chest whenever he would look at her a certain way. When he is back in view, relief envelopes her entire being and she does nothing but remain by his side, happily pulling his jacket closed over her shoulders. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I just didn’t see you and got scared.” She admits, ignoring how his touch makes her cheeks burn and internally she groans at just how his simple touch affects her so. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” Turning, she lets her head tilt as she observes the mist materializing a confused look on her expression.
Feeling his touch pulling her to safety, she relents without hesitation but keeping an eye out for the spirits that had begun their curious gathering to see what exactly the two people with beating hearts were up to. “A recent victim it seems,” she mumbles to herself as the mist that drew her attention begins to take shape. “If anything this is more terrifying to me because you can’t see. Or rather she doesn’t want you to see.” A woman’s form takes shape and Vanessa isn’t startled in the slightest when she sees the hollowed out eyes, tattered clothing and scratches to the apparition's skin - what does surprise her is the fact that the victim resembles her. “Is that a promise senpai?” cooing at him she steps from behind him, giving him a reassuring squeeze to his fingers. The woman reaches her hand out to Vanessa and she walks towards it, slowly lifting her hand herself. “I’m going to let her borrow my body so she can help. Remember the last time this happened? If you ever get too afraid, just call my name and i’ll come back. I promise.” shooting him a gentle smile over her shoulder, Vanessa allows her fingers to intertwine with the spirits and instantly is she thrown back, the wind knocked from her lungs.
Possession never gets easier for the medium - each time she physically feels her soul willingly move to the passengers seat as another energy settles within her body, adapting and caressing her memories as they shift over to accommodate another. It takes about five minutes for the evolution and Vanessa comes to with a strong gasp, bolting upright. It takes her awhile to realize that her body is functioning, flexing her toes, wiggling her fingers and using now live eyes to take in her scenery. When she spots Dorian she blinks in surprise. “You’re going to help me, aren’t you?” The woman asks with Vanessa’s voice and she stands, smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothing. “I can take you to where I was buried with the other two girls.”
💀 A cemetery full of dead, dry flowers as if all of the plots have been forgotten, some of the stones cracked or sinking into the dirt
( — Horror Plot Starters ♱ status: FOREVER ACCEPTING *) 💀 A cemetery full of dead, dry flowers as if all of the plots have been forgotten, some of the stones cracked or sinking into the dirt
❝ ☠ Believing that the weight of one’s environment is the key to how its inhabitants present themselves to the world, Vanessa walks through the haze of existence with her head held just barely above the fog - it is the weight of bearing sins that keeps her right above the surface, never transcending above it. She is a woman that sprouted black dahlias in between her rib cage, bloodied vines decorating her insides, squeezing her lungs making her choke on words in which she didn’t know was there. It is often a miracle that she can keep another soul that hasn’t been bestowed upon her against her will to form bonds that are meaningful and coated in a tender love. Her thoughts swirl in her head like a potion as she walks alongside the entity that she affectionately calls a friend. For once he is the object of desire to whomever decided to take control of the medium’s obsession, and it is this raging thirst for an unseen truth that drives her limbs to move of their own accord. She’s never alarmed in these instances, after all Lucy wouldn’t let a malicious spirit overtake his promised bride. Would he?
The dead grass gives way underneath their feet as if it were welcoming them to an unforeseen fortress that was bound to grant them some kind of sanctuary. “Just a little bit further.” she comments, feet moving through the mist with a purpose fueled by some unspoken melody - a silent pied piper that led individuals to a depth of themselves that was hidden from the rest of the seeing world. There’s a gentle, but malicious smirk on her lips as she walks about and for once Akira feels the presence of pure, unadulterated E V I L. It curls around her fingertips, spreading through her body like a sickly, sweet drug and for a moment she pauses - much to the dismay of Jaewoo, who complains shortly after.
It is in this moment does Akira fully look at him. With an affectionate gaze she studies how the glow of the moon illuminates his features, how the contours of his face wipe any doubt of his existence being anything other than ethereal. Dread pools in her stomach and she can’t help but to burn this memory of his slightly exasperated face into her memory. “Alright, alright, we’re going.” she comments as they begin to walk again, her body keeping close to his as they duck underneath branches until they come upon a small clearing and she stops in her tracks to turn her gaze to Jaewoo - who for once stares back with her confusion making his lips form a frown that takes her aback. He’s ugly when he looks at me this way. The thought is abrupt, sinister dripping from every syllable and she stops in her tracks.
the thought didn’t belong to her.
It isn’t until she hears Jaewoo’s voice again does she snap out a seemingly dark thought pattern that invokes an affectionate side of her that is often kept locked away and she rushes to his side, small arms wrapping around one of his as she walks him to a small lavender filled plot. Interlacing their fingers so she is holding his hand, there’s a wicked grin resting on her lips as something - no someone sits in the drivers seat of her soul as she giggles into Jaewoo’s ear. “This is where they buried us… together.” she tells him and for a moment Jaewoo stiffens and she allows her head to tilt, lifting her pinky finger up when he physically recoils away from her. “I’m sad that you let her get in between us, Jaewoo-yah.” continuing she bends down to touch one of the flowers that sprouted from their makeshift grave. “Together. Forever.” Wiggling her pinky finger, she begins to laugh. It is a hollowed empty sound, malicious in its own right and before Vanessa can make sense of the situation does it feel like all of the oxygen is immediately taken for her lungs and she puts her hand to her chest, broken gasps filling the silence that fills the void.
MUSE PLAYLIST.
post 3 - 6 songs that remind you of your muse.
Dog Teeth // Nicole Dollanganger Sex, Money, Feelings, Die // Lykke Li Gingerbread Man // Melanie Martinez Sally’s Song // Catherine O’Hara Medication For The Melancholy // Rob Zombie Glasgow // Catfish and The Bottlemen
tagged by: @thecosmicsen (i’m screaming thank you so much)
tagging: @kkotseo / @witchtyranny / @kkxai / @lxstbodies / @iinsomniis (olli) / @vxtiosus / and anyone else <3
GOTHIC LITERATURE.
bold what applies. italicize what sometimes applies. repost, don’t reblog.
i. DRACULA. cold to the touch. flickering candles. cold breath upon your neck. billowing white gowns. midnight strolls. pearl trimmed bands. indulging in your deepest desires. the fall from grace. the fear of outsiders. bloodstained sheets. dark imaginations. something lurking in the shadows. the urge to run away. glowing eyes in the darkness. the scent of garlic. preying on the weak. the power to both bring and take life.
ii. THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY. old bookshelves. kisses on the hand. devotion to the finer things in life. prizing youth and beauty above all. paying the ultimate price. the pursuit of pleasure. blood red sins painted over in white snow. a drug-induced stupor. breaking the heart of the one you love. losing what’s left of your humanity.
iii. FRANKENSTEIN. frantic sketches. the stench of something rotten. unorthodox beliefs. a scream from the woods. candles burning out. dangerous knowledge. contemplating existence. the crunch of leaves. the chill of winter in your bones. dark ambitions. prometheus reborn. the contrast between life and death.
iv. THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. false accusations. taking justice into your own hands. divine justice. elaborate schemes. playing upon others’ weaknesses. the solitude of the ocean. an ever-changing identity. dissatisfaction in your life. an alienation from humanity. escaping from prison.
tagged by: @thecosmicsen ( my bb! ) tagging: everyone, all of you are it <3
( — the chariot ♱ ryuhei
( — continuing the sacrament ♱ with @collapsecolours )
❝ ☠ Occupation aside, the medium had been in various contact with entities and living beings whose aura reeked of sin with no hope for redemption. She’s seen things that she can’t explain and would personally pluck from various sections of her brain if she had the option to so it ASTOUNDS her very soul that someone (or some people) have to see these things. Soft gaze, normally so gentle and reserved are captivated by a symphony of horror complete with a scene of tragedy that would make Shakespeare’s heart ravage with envy. Jaw slack, Vanessa tilts her head as her eyes flutter all around the screen taking in the entirety of violence that calms her frantic heart and she takes in a breath. As pure as her soul it is, there’s a dark side to her to which she never acknowledges.
“Ryuhei kun,” it’s something that she can empathize with - the feeling of being overwhelmed by another’s emotions as it made its’ very home inside the soul, being an all conquering force that pushed the very essence of oneself into the dark abyss. Hesitantly she reaches out her hand in comfort to him only to draw it back in an instant the moment she hears his voice. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Vanessa had never been one for intimate relationships, finding it harder to keep up the delusion that everything in her life was alright, when in fact that it wasn’t. It takes her all but three minutes to leave the room to fetch him some water (it’s what a good friend would do, right?) and she’s back this time with a gentle smile on her face with a cup of water. Instead of letting herself be held back by the fact that he might not need the warmth of another to convince him that his reality was his and his alone instead of the victims’. Leaning down she lets her palm rest on his spine, delicate fingers tracing small formless shapes against the fabric of his clothing as she offers him the water. “You’re safe with me.” she reassures him.
Granted, Vanessa was used to seeing it by this point, observing how others were so affected by the volatile nature of human selfishness was something that she found herself to be mesmerized by. She wouldn’t dare to ever voice that perverted fascination but she found herself offering her hand in these situations more than anything else. “Those memories, those feelings don’t belong to you. Hey, look at me.” With gentle fingers she lifts his chin with two of her fingers, letting her worried gaze meet his. It was the least she could do to the same man that extended more than a helping hand to bring her back to society during a desperate and terrifying time in her life - saving her from a crazed fan. “Do you want to go grab some coffee or even your favorite food?”
Guilt hangs in her consciousness like a noose, having dragged Ryuhei into another tedious but necessary adventure after a series of letters came to the radio station. The way she sees it, he needed a break from all of the chaos that plagued his work life and often she wonders if he ever thought of running away; to dip in the shadows like she does every so often. Maybe it would help him feel better, or at least deal with these situations whenever they presented themselves. “Senpai, we can stop here today.” She offers with a cheeky grin that offset the atmosphere of the room.