#cryptie | self

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Cryptie... Who?

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(( rainy day just waiting for a school bus ))

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(( Me ‘n’ my girlfriend were binging Haunted Mansion videos while I doodled, so here, have an Edward doodle inspired by THIS and an older cryptie bc listen i’ll never tire of doodlin these dudes ))

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(( I LOVE MY BOY SM AAAA))

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Tag Dump!

[bells-and-crypts-archived]

AAAH IM A LIL LATE BUT HEY BETTER LATE THAN NEVER!!

In Honor of Redinstead and Autism Acceptance month, yall know I gotta draw the boy, 

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*Causally dumps this thing here* 

So uh, I heard this song. Made me think of that Ghost Master AU thing I’ve got goin on. Man that things crazy, uhh.. So, tfw, you get sucked into Limbo/The Void and start going through different versions of yourself... Yikes™

[bells-and-crypts-archived]

   Dress shoes against old wood flooring made such a distinct sound when there was no other sound to accompany it. The steps echoed throughout the old halls of the mansion. The light of a candelabra lit the butler’s way to his room as he decided to draw his night to a close. The paintings that adorned the walls, their eyes seemed to peer to follow the young man who roamed the halls.

   Cornelius paid them no mind. He never did. He had grown very used to the feeling of eyes on his back. But it was a voice from behind him that caused his steady steps to come to an abrupt halt.

   “You don’t have one, do you?”

   The voice dripped with sing song, childish, playful tone. Cornelius did not need to turn around to see the koi smile that the spirits’ face bared. He felt cold come closer from behind, and then to his side. A turquoise glow played in the corners of his vision, which lured him to turn his head to the other.

   The butler did not reply for a moment. Milky white pupils met a pair that looked disturbingly similar to his own. The spirits’ eyes were yellow, and seemed to radiate an eerie, soft aura.

   “...No. I do not.”

   The butler replied in a calm tone after a long moment. He did not need to ask to guess what the other was talking about. The other paused in thought, a slight head tilt. The other seemed to make up his mind,

   “Your secret is safe with me,” came the reply with a smile that the Cheshire cat would take pride in, “I don’t have one either.”

   The Butler’s solemn face did not waver, but he was perplexed, perhaps he would’ve been compelled to press on, but the spirit spoke before he could.

   “Did you give it away?” The spirit, whom called himself Mystro asked with blatant childish curiosity, leaning forward with great interest. Cornelius did not respond, and simply began to walk yet again, footsteps resuming to echo throughout the halls.

   The spirit followed, “Someone took it from you, didn’t they.” It wasn’t a question, it was a matter of fact statement.

   “Yes.” The butler finally croaked, and the spirit seemed more than pleased with an answer, and proceeded to press for more.

   “She took it, didn’t she.” The spirits’ grin wavered when the butler looked at him, slowly turning his head to meet the others gaze. The butler wasn’t angry, no. He was silent, and his face bared no emotion. That was what was so unnerving.

    “Indeed.” Came the single word.

   “Don’t you want it back?” Mystro questioned, hesitantly.

   “Of course.” Came the unnervingly serene reply.

   “You must hate her, right?”

   “Of course.” This reply was more forced, and came with a glare. Cornelius knew he’d be angry to hear that, yet, his true emotions were as still and cold as freshly fallen snow.

   Mystro deemed it best to leave now. He didn’t trust those who did not feel. Quite a hypocritical statement.

   “Well, good night to you, Mister Butler.” And he faded away.

   “And a farewell to you, Mystro.”