#inthecemetery

[lambru]

happy birthday!!! hope you have a lovely day!!

thank you so much! it's been a chill day fortunately 😊🩷

[shattcrdglass]

send me 🚫 and i'll make an incorrect quote meme about our muses — @inthecemetery matthew & ophelia

[girlgraves]

❝ jesus christ , that's a pretty face ― ❞ she hums , mostly to herself , but the words could be heard buzzing from the shadows. she lurks carefully around the other woman , aware of her reputation. ❝ i'm not scared to die , but i'm a little bit scared of what comes after. ❞

❰ song : jesus christ by brand new ❱ feat. ❛ nerea ⅋. ophelia ( @inthecemetery )

[blindsite]

📏 + mulder + marty 5'6'' eldritch form 10ft

send me 📏 (ruler) + your muses height and i'll compare them to mine! using this site

mulder 6'2" x marty and eldritch form / @inthecemetery

[shattcrdglass]

Send this little flower 🌸 to the friends whose writing you adore and whose presence makes your dash a happier place. Let's share a little love. 💖

dguaosidjlkguadsiojglasdguoajsdg !!!!!!!!! i'm bad at taking compliments but THANK YOU! <3 RIGHT BACK AT YOU! thanks for being my rp partner and putting up with my incessant spamming of random things.

[shattcrdglass]

"Run. Don’t stop." quincey letting lucy escape *eyes moji*

SEND ME MEME PROMPTS — always accepting.

lucy had been entangled in the puppeteer strings of count dracula ever since he'd first sank his teeth into the delicate skin of her neck. and now that her heart was no longer beating, the grip on her strings was even tighter. he needed her. an important pawn in his game, disposable, but vital.

it was as if she were trapped in the walls of an hour glass, having no control of what happened, but still present in the back of her mind as the grains of sand slipped down into the bottom of the glass until the time ran out, and turned back over, forced once again to do the bidding of her 'creator'.

it was like she was sleep walking, but instead of waking up in a different place she'd fallen asleep in, drained and confused; she was ever present in the back of her mind. watching as he lured children in to drink from them, to stoke fear in the hearts of the city.

she was forced to watch the fear and shock in the eyes of loved ones as count dracula attempted to gain control of them until van helsing had stepped in and thwarted his efforts with a raised crucifix.

had they been close enough, they'd have seen the tears slowly slip from her eyes as words that weren't her own were forced out of her by the puppeteer.

it was only during the day when she was able to find some peace in her slumber. a mind fully shut off, recuperating from the night before. it was different than sleeping while she was alive, now that she was dead, well...she slept as such. nothing could disturb her. it was peaceful.

when night fell again, she'd found herself trapped in her final resting place, unable to slip underneath the cracks of her tomb. this angered the puppeteer. and for what felt like hours, she'd paced back and forth among the cemented walls. her mind turning over itself, panicking.

then — a heartbeat. a familiar scent. movement outside of her tomb.

her eyes trail down to the floor where the light of the moon could be seen leaking through the crack underneath the door. a shadow fleeting through the light momentarily as they stood outside her resting place. the sound of their heartbeat and blood pulsing through their veins quickening her breath and dilating her pupils.

but then she hears him, quincey! — "Run. Don’t stop." she could hear shuffling as unbeknownst to her, he had kicked aside the powder van helsing had placed there in the daytime to keep her entombed and almost instinctually she knew she was free now the moment the line of powder was broken.

shifting into a cloud of fog, she slipped underneath the door, and rematerialized in front the man who had set her free. her eyes dilated, and rosy lips parted, exposing her fangs. she was a wild animal being set free from a trap by the hunter himself. her head cants to the side, blonde curls spilling over her shoulder, looking at him curiously, yet ravonously.

the count wanted to leap at him, tear open his throat and drain him of his life, add another pawn to his board. but the girl who was awake in the back of her own mind fought against it. her wild eyes growing sad as she looked at the man who'd only recently professed his love to that girl who so desperately wanted to be free of the count's control.

a flicker of humanity and familiarity meets her darkened eyes as she pushed against the pull of the count's control, tears glistening at the brim of her eyelids, threatening to spill over and crash onto cold pale cheeks.

"quincey," his name is spoken softly, but with her own voice instead of his.

she wanted to tell him not to save her. that a fate spent like this was no fate she wanted to live. however, now that she was free? the count wasn't going to let her give in that easily. she was disposable, yes. but her pawn had been places back on the board, given a second chance, and he was going to take it.

a wicked smile not her own twists onto her red lips, her eyes darkening once again.

"you will not win this battle," her voice holding an otherworldly musical tone, like a siren luring a sailor. and with that, lucy turns and runs towards the line of trees at the back of the cemetery, disappearing into the night.

[shattcrdglass]

[TXT] : you'd be so proud of me right now and also disappointed. for matthew

@inthecemetery

[txt to: marty] Well. I'm proud of you. And disappointed. [text to: marty] Do I want to know why?

[shattcrdglass]

"You're not real." from mina to jonathan heheheheh

SEND ME MEME PROMPTS — always accepting.

there's a click of his tongue at the roof of his mouth, as he looks down at himself, hands roaming across his chest, patting it, and then finally shrugging when his hands don't go straight through his chest as if he were a mirage.

"I seem pretty real to me..." and he was real — in a sense. would others see him if they happened across the duo? no. but mina's guilt had fed his consciousness into existence, so here he stood in her mind's eye. solid. persistent. and ready to feed on her guilt like she'd fed on the real jonathan.

a cold smile flickers onto his lips, his blue eyes (which weren't quite the exact shade of her actual husband's) holding a feigned look of concern, "there is a sickness going around. I hope you're not catching it," he steps closer to his 'wife', "I've heard it's causing people to go mad with an insatiable blood lust that not even their closest loves ones are safe from...can you imagine?" he shakes his head, concern still knitted into his expression before it morphs into something more sinister.

he reaches a hand out, turning it over to place the back of his hand against her forehead, "you do feel rather clammy, maybe we should be concerned..."