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misseviehyde · 5 months

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GHOST LIT

Melissa had never thought she would meet the love of her life, fall instantly in love and get married so quickly, (especially after being single for so long) - but all her dreams had finally come true. Dan was gorgeous - a well-read and well-spoken gentleman who had an impeccable taste in fashion and interior decoration and was the CEO of a small, but successful limited company.

Melissa was a piano teacher, and she'd met Dan when he came for lessons. As he brushed back his sexy hair and grinned at her with his confident smile, she'd felt her stomach flutter and known she had finally met the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Her heart had sank when she'd seen the wedding ring on his finger, but he'd blushed at her gaze - almost reading her mind.

"I... was... married. She died in an accident. I still wear the ring, though I don't know why. My former wife... well she wasn't a very nice person. It wasn't until she died that I realised she'd been dominating my life, gas-lighting me into thinking everything was my fault. She had me totally under her heel and treated me very poorly. Sorry, I shouldn't speak so ill of the dead, but I'm glad she died, I finally feel free. That's why I'm having these lessons, I want to live - I want to finally do all the things I should have done when I was married to Cassandra."

They'd hit it off immediately and begun dating a week later. A year later and they were married - and Melissa was finally moving into Dan's amazing mansion home. She didn't care that he was rich, or that he'd lived here with his evil ex-wife... all that mattered was that she was finally with the man of her dreams.

Still - as they passed into the house, Melissa couldn't help but shiver. The house still bore the marks of Cassandra's spoiled influence. The more Melissa had learned of the evil, manipulative, vain and cruel Cassandra - the more she was glad she had never met the bitch. She wondered how Dan had ended up with such a bad girl - or why he had allowed her to gaslight him for so long. Dan had told him that Cassandra had even fucked other guys, but somehow made him feel it was his fault for being an inadequate lover.

"She gets into your head and makes you her puppet," he had sighed sadly. "Sorry - I mean, got into your head. You know... it's funny, but sometimes I almost feel like she is still here. Crazy I know! Just ignore me, I'm being a fool of course."

That had really made Melissa shiver. The thought that Dan's ex-wife might be haunting the house - watching them like some malicious purveyor really made her feel uncomfortable. Good job she didn't believe in ghosts.

"This is our home now baby," she had smiled. "We're going to be happy here. Now forget all about your ex-wife and lets start our new life together."

****

In the dark corners of the bedroom an evil spirit gloated as it watched Melissa innocently unpack her things. At last - a woman was here. A weak, willed, goody-two-shoes of a woman. A foolish little slut with no idea of the transformation she was going to undergo. Cassandara smiled as she drifted close to her victim and tasted her innocent spirit. Sustained by spite and bitterness, the spirit of Dan's former wife looked appraisingly at Melissa as an artist might look at a piece of clay. So much potential... so much fun to be had.

Melissa shivered and she turned her head, almost as if she sensed something. Weird, it felt like she was being watched. For a moment the tension seemed to stretch out and then Melissa shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin, as with a clatter, something fell from the top of the wardrobe... almost as if it had been pushed off. Regaining her composure, Melissa convinced herself the object had fallen naturally and walked over to pick it up. It was a jewel case containing a DVD. Why it had been hidden on top of the wardrobe, she wasn't sure.

"What the hell is this?" she mused, walking over to the bedroom TV and sliding the DVD into the player beneath. It whirred up and Melissa sat on the bed to watch. To her surprise when the screen came on, it showed a video of the very bedroom she was now sitting it, only it was at night. Red candles and soft lighting lit the room, and the sheets were white satin.

Melissa gasped and her hand went to her mouth as she saw two figures on the bed. One was Dan, only slightly younger looking - the other was an amazing looking woman with a perfect, toned, body and firm full breasts. Her body oozed sensuality as with a moan of pleasure she lowered herself onto Dan's cock and began to ride him.

Melissa watched in horror as the woman in the video fucked her husband. Fucked. That was the only way to describe it. When she and Dan had sex it was gentle love-making, this was like watching a porn video. Dan's face was a mask of ecstasy, the woman on top of him moaning as she thrust her hips obscenely like she wanted to suck his dick up into herself and she took his straining cock deeper and deeper inside her.

"Oh Cassie, fuck me," he moaned... "I need you so badly."

"That's right Dan," she hissed, "my pussy controls you - only I can make you feel this way. Say it."

"YES! OH YES, CASSIE, your pussy owns me - you're better than every other woman. Only you can make me feel this way."

"Mmmmmh, good boy - I will ALWAYS be in control of your life."

Melissa felt sick to her stomach, yet she couldn't stop watching. Cassie bounced on top of Dan with hot wet slaps, moaning and laughing as she squeezed her tight pussy around his dick and made him hers. Dan was shaking, his uncontrollable lust for his bitch wife clear to see. His eyes shone with devotion and with a wracking sob, Melissa realised he had never looked at her like that.

"Oh my God Dan, why did I have to see this?" she sobbed. "I thought we had a special connection, but now I see what you were like with her... you'll never need me like you needed her. I can't believe this, I can't compete with that bitch!"

Hearing movement downstairs, Melissa quickly turned off the DVD, ejected and hid it under the bed. She used some tissues to quickly blot her tears and put on a fake smile as Dan entered the room. He walked over and put his arm around her lovingly. "Everything okay baby?"

"Of course," she lied, "everything is fine."

****

It was hours later and Melissa couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about the DVD and what she had seen. The scene seemed to replay in her mind again and again and again. As she lay in the bed, tossing and turning, with Dan snoring next to her, she wanted to scream but she couldn't.

Grinning maliciously, Cassandra floated over to Melissa and took a position up behind the bed-head. Reaching down she slid her spectral fingers towards Melissa's brow and sighed pleasurably as her phantasmal digits slid into the other woman's head. She'd tried this before, but Melissa's unconscious mental defences had been too strong. Now her mind was wide open.

Melissa groaned in relief as a sudden cool sensation seemed to slide into her head. After hours of restlessness, she suddenly felt drowsy, and though the sex scene in her head continued to play - it no longer made her feel sad. Instead she began to feel horny as she watched the lovers fuck.

The memory became a dream, and as she watched the lovers rutting - Cassie's face seemed to melt like wax and then reform. With a gasp of astonishment Melissa realised she was now watching herself riding Dan - only, with a body like Cassie's. Melissa couldn't believe how good her face looked on that bitchy body, all tanned and perfect. She felt her heart beat faster and a sudden yearning to be like the woman in her dream and make this fantasy come true began to fill her mind.

Why not become more like Cassie? Why not see if you can make Dan lust for you like he used to lust for her?

Melissa sighed happily in her dreams as strange thoughts and whispers filled her mind and her lips twisted into a unfamiliar smile. Finally she slept, and her dreams were sooooo naughty that night...

*****

Dan blinked in surprise as he walked into the kitchen to find Melissa on a stool whistling and doing her makeup. For a second he was struck by deja-vu then he realised why.

"Melissa, are you wearing my ex-wife's clothes? What the hell? I packed all that stuff away in the garage months ago! Did you go unbox it?"

Melissa looked at him in confusion. "Baby, I found this stuff in my wardrobe, I thought since you'd left it out, you wouldn't mind me wearing it. I never thought of wearing clothes like this before, these leather pants feel really nice. Don't you like how they look?"

Dan had to admit that Melissa did look good in Cassie's bitchy clothes... he felt his cock twitch. There was something kind of hot about nice girl Melissa being a bit more like his nympho-ex, but why was she lying to him?

"Melissa, tell the truth - I never left those clothes out - you must have got them from the garage."

Melissa frowned, "Dan - I promise you, they were in my wardrobe when I woke up this morning. Are you accusing me of being a liar?"

"Of course not," he said reluctantly - but full now of spite, he snapped - "They don't fit you anyway, you'd need to lose weight and tone up to pull those off."

Melissa scowled. "Maybe I will then!" she snarled, stomping off back up to the bedroom.

Dan immediately regretted being mean to Melissa, but he was too proud to go apologise, so he left her to fester.

Cassie smiled as she invisibly watched - it had all played out exactly as she had known it would. Floating through the wall into the bedroom she smirked as she floated behind Melissa and slid her fingers into the other woman's head. They slid in easier now, like Melissa's mind was embracing their touch - almost pulling them in.

Melissa's eyes widened slightly and a lovely relaxed feeling throbbed through her body as Cassie's evil influence pulsed into her body. The clothes seemed to pulse with the same corruption, Melissa was now encased in Cassie's bitchiness and it was starting to transfer into her body.

He's right - you do need to tone up and shape up - and you will. You know you deserve to wear these clothes and you only want to dress like this. Throw away all your old clothes, go to the garage and take all of Cassie's things - replace your entire wardrobe with hers. Dan will only lust for you if you become more like Cassie. Do it...

Melissa moaned as her brain pulsed with pleasure. Standing up she walked to her wardrobe and with a sneer, began to rip her old clothes out. It was time to upgrade... and join a gym.

****

"Yes, this is more like it," smiled Melissa as she admired herself in the mirror a few weeks later. The amount of weight and toning up that she had achieved in such a small amount of time was incredible. In fact, it was almost supernatural. If she didn't know better she'd say that some outside force had been assisting her - speeding up her physical transformation from a slightly frumpy housewife into a toned and athletic looking hottie.

Dan had certainly noticed, but not complained - their sex becoming more ambitious and his pleasure in her superior body noticeable. Melissa had almost completely stopped playing the piano or taking lessons in order to shape up and Dan hadn't objected when she had told him she wouldn't be contributing to the finances this month.

In truth, he felt guilty that he had told Melissa she needed to shape up, and his guilt gave her power over him. Power Melissa was starting to enjoy.

She walked into her bedroom and sat on the bed. All at once the delicious tingling throbbing feeling she got in her head whenever she was in this room came back and she smiled happily. She always had her best ideas in the bedroom - it was almost like someone was projecting ideas into her head and the more she relaxed and welcomed it, the faster the ideas seemed to come.

"Yes, I should try on some of the tighter, bitchier, clothes that Cassie used to own. I can probably fit into them now," grinned Melissa as she opened the wardrobe where she had put all the naughtiest clothes she had found - but had not quite been able to fit into - in. Now she was about the same body build as Cassie though, it should be easy.

Melissa shivered as she stroked the latex clothing, faux-fur, leather boots and bougie jewellery on display. Could she really wear this stuff? It seemed like something some sort of slutty bad bitch might wear.

"Hurry up and try them on... you're going to feel sooooo fucking hot and horny in those clothes. Haven't you seen how Dan has been responding to your physical improvements, next you need to start acting like a bad-bitch. He enjoys being bullied and pushed around, it actually turns him on. Try it. Put on an outfit and go tease him."

Melissa shivered and nodded. Sometimes it felt like there was a voice in her mind whispering such deliciously evil things to her, but she had to admit - everything the voice told her to do worked. With shaking hands she reached out and chose a bitchy outfit.

It was tight - far tighter than anything she had ever worn. A tight black one-piece black and white bodysuit. It was funny how the suit seemed to squeeze her tits up and out - she was sure they seemed bigger these days. High heels shoes also pushed her up - her feet felt smaller and more arched since she moved in with Dan and a generous application of expensive makeup made her look like a total bitch.

She was immediately aroused and she felt hotter and more powerful than ever before. With a confident stride, she clip clopped around the room, smirking at the feeling of power Cassie's clothes gave her. It felt like the old her was being smothered and something cruel and bitchy was taking over. She loved the feeling and wanted more.

Striding next door, Melissa felt arousal as Dan gasped at her outfit. His eyes lustfully drank in her body and she smirked to see the effect she was having on him. He came towards her, but she disdainfully pushed him away. "You'll spoil my makeup, keep back. You've been pissing me off lately, so if you want a piece of my ass, you're going to have to start treating me better."

For a moment Dan looked like he might object... then he licked his lips nervously. "Yes... dear, whatever you say. I'm sorry."

Melissa felt her pussy tingle and her nipples get hard. Wow - making your man do what you wanted, felt really good. "Good boy, perhaps later, if you're good I'll reward you - but for now I'm going shopping and I want to spend some big money. You don't mind do you dear?"

"Of course not baby," muttered Dan.

Melissa was acting more and more like his old wife every day - yet somehow, that was really turning him on.

******

Cassie looked around the shop in delight - her hold over Melissa had grown strong enough that she was now finally able to leave the house. A thin cord of energy, steadily growing thicker and heavier was growing between them and Cassie could feel her influence pulsing into the other woman, feeding Melissa's lust, ambition and cruelty.

Melissa's body had changed so much in the last few weeks and the stupid bitch hadn't even questioned how her tits had got three sizes bigger. Instead, she was proud of her sluttier body and thanks to the constant corruptive thoughts Cassie was sending into her protegee's head - she was getting worse by the minute.

"Yes, I deserve nice things and for Dan to pay for it all," hissed Melissa in glee as she tried on a pair of $500 boots that felt so nice over her latex bodysuit. She knew she didn't need the boots but she wanted them, so she took them. It felt great to get what she wanted and be a spoiled bitch.

Melissa admired herself as she passed a mirror. She'd been for a full body-wax this morning and her perfect abs, big-booty and huge tits were straining to break free of her super tight bodysuit. She looked amazing and she revelled in feeling the hungry stares of men and women alike as they passed her. "I'm a fucking Goddess," she laughed as she strutted down the street in her new boots, heading for home.

Entering the house, Melissa found Dan in the living room and beckoned him with a finger. "Come with me. I'm horny and I want you to fuck me."

They entered the bedroom and Dan excitedly unzipped Melissa out of her latex suit - her smooth, naked body ready to be ravished. She smiled excitedly as she pushed him onto the bed and drawing the curtains lit a number of candles. There - now things looked exactly as they had on the DVD. Dan seemed confused, but also turned on as Melissa straddled him and with an excited gasp lowered herself onto his cock.

"Oooooh, yes," she groaned loving how good it felt to finally be the bitch of her dreams as she began to gyrate her hips and ride her husband, just as she'd seen on the video.

"Oh my God Melissa, your pussy feels so tight... it's amazing," groaned Dan.

"I've been working out," purred Melissa as she fucked her man. "Tell me that you like the bitchy new me, tell me how much you love that I've become more like your ex-wife."

"Ohhhh yes, I love what you've become, I don't know why or how, but it turns me on so much."

"Good boy," purred Melissa as she increased her bounces. "I love what a bad girl I'm turning into and it feels like there is still so much more for more to do."

Cassie watched proudly as Melissa took control of Dan and made him her pussy slave. Corrupting the other woman had been so much fun and there was still so much more to do. A bit more gas-lighting and Melissa would be even bitchier. Cassie was wondering if eventually she could even make the other woman worse than she had ever been.

It was definitely going to be fun to try...

****

EPILOGUE (Weeks later)

Ghosts don't sleep - but they do fade in and out from time to time. Cassie had been somewhere else when she was suddenly rudely pulled into reality.

She was in a room - her living room - only there were candles lit everywhere. This wasn't something she had planned... what was happening?

In the middle of the room around the table sat Melissa and Dan. They were holding hands and Melissa had her head thrown back as in rapture.

"Hear me... spirit of this place. I summon thee and bind thee. Thou shalt obey me."

"Honey are you sure this is a good idea? You don't really believe there is a ghost do you?"

Melissa's lips twitched into an evil smile. "Oh yes honey. There is a ghost and I know who she is. But don't worry - I know how to deal with her."

Cassie felt a flash of panic and admiration. How had Melissa learnt of her existence - she thought she had been careful.

"Oh spirit of Cassie. I bind thee and summon thee into my body. All your bitchiness, all your knowledge shall be mine. I absorb thee and consume thee. Make me even more powerful!"

Cassie tried to fight, but her spirit was being pulled towards Melissa. She screamed as she was sucked into the other woman, her personality and consciousness unravelling as Melissa greedily sucked her up and consumed the concentrated evil.

Melissa screamed in pleasure, her tits swelling up even bigger and her body becoming hotter and stronger as she absorbed all of Cassies power, knowledge and memories.

In moments it was done. The ghost was no more and now only the fully evolved bitch Melissa remained.

"Mmmmh," she giggled stretching her slutty body with pride. "I love how it feels to be such a fucking bitch. Now I have ALL the power."

"Did you banish the ghost my love?" stuttered Dan.

"What ghost?" smirked Melissa fake innocently. "You must be imagining things. There was never any ghost and if there was - well she isn't a problem anymore."

Laughing cruelly Melissa strode off leaving her pussy whipped gas lit husband to tidy up the room.

She was the only bitch around here now and she wouldn't be manipulated by a ghost.

She was the gas-lighter now... and she loved it.

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #ghost #influenced #personality change #evil bitch #good to evil

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r3starttt · 2 months

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CALL ME BY YOUR NAME | 02

fic M.list | read this or DNI

cw: mentions of masturbation

After the very boring and award familiar dinner you had, without Abby, your whole family reunited at the inside of the house.

You found yourself lying on a large couch as your cousins watches something in the huge tv, almost at full volume. Your mom was talking with your aunt about whatever, they could talk for hours.

Your dad was busy serving everyone something to drink, some small snack and having small talk with everyone making sure they felt comfortable. Paying attention and taking care of everything and everyone but you.

Until everyone suddenly remembered you existed. But you’re way too stubborn to please them so easily, besides you were already feeling your heart in your brain, palpitating loudly enough to make your whole body vibrate. Abby, without being there had caused you such discomfort.

And you weren’t in the mood for anything but sleeping. Yet attention is always welcomed because you adore people noticing you, deep inside you that’s something you crave.

You were took out of your trance by your dads voice right next to your ear, his voice cooed your name, followed by his hands on your shoulders, maybe not the best thing to do after Abby did the same thing just some hours ago. It felt like a ghost, she wasn’t there but you could feel her and see her and hear her everywhere.

“Play something” he asked, patting your shoulders before walking away, next to your mom and aunt sitting next to you on separate couches of course, to not bother you more. “non mi va” you replied, hiding your face on the palm of your hand and crossing your legs more if that was even possible as a desperate attempt to pretend you weren’t there.

“perché non ti va? mhm?” your mom asked, hearing her felt like an insult “perché non mi va” you answered again, feeling your words coming out of your mouth as bullets piercing your own skin. You’ve never experienced such a migraine. “You’re spoiling everyone’s fun”

Her words sank on you, if you could describe it, physically there was something fuzzy in your throat running down your stomach, she was right. So you stood up, walking towards the piano as your family clapped at you, sarcastically.

They made you play the piano.

Naturally next day you were exhausted, feeling a headache hangover and overthinking every single time you’ve spoke to Abby. Why was she so present in your mind?

You had nothing planned for today, just stay at home and wait for the day to end. And you really hoped, needed that Abby wasn’t here today.

She kept haunting you, making you feel and think and experience physical and mental pain. That’s the most accurate word, it was discomfort mixed with pain and annoyance. But also empathy because she was probably trying her best and felt the same way about you.

And she was the adult here, the one that should know what to do, where and when put the limits. She should be smarter than you, like all your mom’s students. Otherwise she would be here.

So she probably knew about you and how you were feeling, and as well knew about her and how she was feeling. And it kept bothering you how she was being so childish about this, how she didn’t let you read her mind like others did.

How here brows were always furrowed and her fat lips were naturally pouting, always looking so annoyed and serious and like she was keeping a secret. How she purposely leaned on you to grab some shit from the table every time she ate with you and your parents and how she would disappear all day after that, not making a sound whenever she arrived.

It bothered you how she ran her hands through her hair whenever it wasn’t made in a braid, how her collar looked so tentative whenever you noticed it, how she’d let her underwear everywhere in the bathroom you shared and how she’d be so normal, changing with the door or windows fully open, like you weren’t there.

It bothered you how inviting she looked and how much you craved her, how impossible she seemed to get but how easy she became whenever she’s around you. It bothered you how good it felt to stare.

It bothered you to feel something ache in between your legs and breasts whenever you saw her. And it was extremely hurtful how you could never satiate it.

Before you realized your hand was already over your cunt, making small circles above your clit, teasing yourself by the pure thought of her.

And how could you not when she looked delicious under the sun, lightening her blonde her, and the breeze, warmly making the front stands of her hair gracefully dance over her cheeks, how could you not when the sweat made her usually white blouses stick to her back, when her muscles were always fully displayed.

Three knocks, less than one second each, and the door was already opened.

Your hand moved away as fast as it could, grabbing the first thing it could catch. A book, small, you’ve never seen it before but somehow it was next to your bed. Maybe it was something you grabbed on a sleepy night where you refused to let the day end.

“Hey” “hey” your voices overlapped, she walked inside your room as you were still readjusting yourself on your bed, trying to look natural, trying to hide your chest practically trying to jump out of your body, shifting your eyes to keep them fixated in your book.

She was wearing a white tank top -a black bra under- practically transparent. And some shorts, she was planning on go swimming based on the little you’ve get to know her.

Her arms rested on the old metal footboard, and maybe it was just you but you felt like her eyes could look trough you, like she could perceive how annoying yet desired her presence was for you at this moment. “How come you’re not down with everyone else by the river?”

You, on the other hand, we’re resting on your elbows. Back almost pressed against the mattress and legs bended, knees pointing to the window in front of you and eyes moving quickly side to side on every verse in the book, trying to ignore her body, which unconsciously had you drooling some seconds ago. You hummed, thinking about an answer.

“Not feeling good t’day…have an allergy” Abby’s voice overlapped with you, purposely interrupting your lame excuse “Yeah me too, maybe we have the same one” you furrowed before realizing, confused and conflicted by her words. Why couldn’t she just ignore you?

Why was she always so smart?

“Why don’t you and I go swimming?” your hands positioned the book down, facing the mattress without closing it properly, quickly folding the edge of the sheet you were currently acting to read. Smart movement that she would hopefully notice as a non verbally response to her sudden invitation.

“Right now?” She nodded, pressing her lips together and grabbing you by the arm that wasn’t supporting your body from falling on the bed. “Do we have to go right now?” Abby sighed, annoyed by how childish you were being right now. She did notice, she knew you more than you imagine, but as the older one between you both she tried her best to make things work, and it was painfully annoying that you refused to let her do the job.

“I’ll go get changed, meet you downstairs”

Todays hot was bearable, relaxing even. So after fulfill her whim and swim with her you two grew exhausted of it, and probably each other’s presence as well, ending up resting each in a different way.

You, on a lounger and her on the side of the small pool the cottage had on its large garden. The only thing heard was the water running down the fountain, along the pool, and the usual chirp of birds accompanied by the trees moving.

You were falling asleep, the warmth of the sun embracing your body comfortably couldn’t cause less. And since she didn’t make any sound the moment you closed your eyes you obliviously assumed she was in your same situation. Until her voice was hear, asking for your attention by practically screaming your name. “You sleeping?” “I was”

“Listen to this drivel, tell me what y’ think” “No, wait” you quickly responded, still half asleep. As your back cracked gracefully for you, her laugh got to your ears, was she making fun of you? bothering you on purpose?

You stood up, walking towards her. Which she ignored by speaking before you even got close as you intended, to actually hear her and pay attention to whatever she planned on saying.

“For the early Greeks, Heidegger contends, this underlying hiddenness is constitutive of the way beings are, no only in relation to themselves but also in relation to other entities generally. In other words, they do construe hiddenness merely or primarily in terms of entities’ relations to human beings”

You didn’t understand nor hear any word she just mentioned, still stretching your body and sitting next to her as she spoke, placing your legs in the water and making small circles with your feet, completely amused by the way the water looked. You find it relaxing how transparent and brilliant the water looks any time for he day, how it lightens your skin, how it moves.

“Does that make any sense to you? Doesn’t make any sense to me” you shifter your eyes to look at her, her muscled arms flexed to the sides of her body, sighing as she grabbed the sheet with some force, wrinkling it’s corners. “I don’t think it makes any sense to your dad either” “Maybe it did when you wrote it”

You extender your arm to grab the sheet and take a proper look of whatever she wrote, making her put some effort on it as a small revenge of her waking you up. “That’s the kindest thing anybody has said to me in months” you grabbed the sheet, being interrupted by her voice again “kind?” a ‘yep’ brushed her lips, almost too quiet for you to hear.

Before you could read any of it, even glance at the piece of paper your hands contained, she threw herself on the pool, purposely just to get you wet again, and probably to ruin the stupid text that sheet had. Which she failed on achieving since you moved it away the moment you noticed her body rolling to the side.

She’d be dancing something in between 9 and 12 minutes based on how much each singed has played so far lasted. Yes, you counted.

Today was the day in the week you went out with your friends, being interrupted by Abby’s presence you ended coming to a small party in town, with her as well. Marzia was there, not letting go of you since you arrived.

Which was extremely annoying considering the fact you weren’t paying attention to her at all by how Abby’s hands were placing on a woman’s ass, non ashamed. They were adults and the place was safe, she, they, could do whatever. And if it wasn’t her then it would probably pass ignored by you. But it didn’t and it’s the most disgusting thing your eyes have seen her do so far.

Marisa’s body felt somehow heavy, and her words were like random letters being pronounced right to your ear, loud and not understandable at all.

Your friends, which where sitting next to you as Marzia was on your lap, were drunk already, making fun of Abby and the woman who had been desperate to feel her touch since Abby became the center of attention to practically everyone present.

You had a cigarette in hand, pressing your free hand on the sides of Marzia’s waist at every move Abby made. Bitting the inside of your lips and cheeks whenever the cig had to leave your mouth or replacing it by some beer.

You’d ended dancing as well when the fifth song appeared. Marzia right next to Abby who seemed unbothered by the two of you eye fucking each other right in front of her. Because as much as you craved Abby, Marzia was there first, and she’d been waiting for you longer than anyone else has waited.

You knew what she craved, and also knew you couldn’t give it to her, but there was no harm in trying your best to cheat both you and her. It’s better to try and fail than do nothing and regret.

You just had to find the courage to reach out and touch, she would say yes.

“I just heard from the people in Sirmione, they say they’ve come up with something so, going there today, yeah?” Your mom murmured to you during breakfast. Abby was sitting next to you so she heard as well.

Not in your plans but not something you could refuse to do, it wouldn’t take long, It never did. Marzia would be waiting for you till night, and even if it did took long then she won’t leave, if she’s been holding herself for years already, what’s some minutes more?

“Please, stay silent” your mom said, giving the first bite to her food “Silent as in ‘she has too many opinions’ or silent as in ‘just not telling anybody what amazing thing you’ve dug up’” that was Abby’s voice, vibrating in your ears as how deep and loud she was whenever she spoke to your parents.

You were all day outside, with both your mom and Abby. You ended up swimming till night and god how things were so perfect that day you forgot about the plans you've made with Marzia.

You didn't even bother to went and look for her later that night, if she was there she would tell you how immature you are with this, if she wasn't there then this was it.

And to be honest, after actually spending a decent evening with abby you didn't feel like going trough her shit today. Or tomorrow, or in a week until she won't mad at you anymore.

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deathbecomesthem · 5 months

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The Piano Man

Part 2

Older!Eddie Munson x Reader | 1K

This is something. It's possible there will be more tomorrow. For now, I leave you with this teeny bit of a thing that I wrote while thinking about home.

The hotel is a ghost town, and it has been since the snow hit. Unlucky you missed your last chance at escape because you believed the weather report. You should have trusted the folks on their mass exodus from the tiny Berkshire village.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be on the road to your mother’s house last night. The trip was an impulsive decision. The day that Russ left, you turned in your request for the vacation time you’ve been hoarding for the last several years, and hit the road the following day. Your apartment was too quiet, and you remembered visiting this town when you were a child. The mountains are a dream this time of year, fresh snow capped peaks hiding over every hill. Mother Nature foiled your escape, and left you with the ghosts of regret to haunt you in the eerie stillness of the snow covered landscape.

Now, it’s Christmas Eve, and you’re sitting at the hotel bar with the elderly bartender as your only company. The martini is passable, it’ll do its job anyway. You’re picking at the tray of cheese and crudites, the only food available from the kitchen with no staff past 6 in the evening, when you hear it from across the big room.

Like a punch in the gut, the tinkle of piano keys echo through the space. O Little Town of Bethlehem. You close your eyes and listen to the song without turning around to see the pianist that’s celebrating their own private Christmas concert. A small part of you thinks you’ll see your grandmother sitting at the baby grand in the corner. Even now, with the taste of gin still on your tongue, you can almost imagine that you’re sitting in the first pew of your grandfather’s church on a Christmas Eve candlelight service so many years ago.

“Carl,” you draw the attention of the bartender behind the counter to you as the mystery pianist begins a new song - Hark the Herald Angels Sing, “can I get another martini please?”

He nods his head and makes your drink. When he sets it in front of you, you pick it up, along with the square black napkin underneath the base, and begin to make your way towards the sound of the music from the corner.

You do not expect to find a man, let alone a man with long black hair and tattoos on his neck and fingers, with his eyes closed while his hands dance along the keys in front of him. Of course, his long fingers are made for the instrument in front of him, and they are clever. You think maybe under other circumstances, you’d see him at one of the fancy piano bars Russ used to like to take you to. He’d fit right in there.

When his eyes open, he finds you standing next to him, glass in your hand. He smiles and nods his head in a bow before asking, “any requests? Christmas music only, please. ‘Tis the season and all that.”

“O Come, O Come Emmanuel,” you answer without hesitation, “and then you should join me at the bar on your break.”

He nods and closes his eyes, giving you the opportunity to watch him in private. His neck is long, and it delights your eyes to see the way he moves his body while his fingers pull the song from the keys in front of him. He’s not playing a song, he’s discovering it, he’s pulling it from the piano and breathing life into it.

After a couple of beats, you reluctantly turn and make your way back to the bar, hoping he’ll join you at some point. You’re willing to sit and wait. You’ll stay there until he either sits down next to you, or leaves.

Three more songs, ghosts from your childhood, float through the room. With your eyes closed, you are that child in knee high socks and a red bow in your hair. You can almost smell the spiced cake baking in your grandmother’s kitchen. You can’t even be sorry that he hasn’t joined you, this stranger is giving you the gift of memories long forgotten. You wonder if he’s searching for his own past in the songs he’s playing.

The timing is perfect, you drain your second marini as his clever hands run along the keys for a final time. O Silent Night, how true that is. The snow outside absorbs every sound, and the cars are all sitting under several feet of snow. You don’t remember another time when things were this silent.

“Is this seat taken?” The stranger, soon to be friend, takes a seat without waiting for your approval. A neat whiskey, double, and another martini for you, and you’re both well on your way to a new kind of holiday memory in the frozen New England hideaway.

—

The ink on his skin, jet black marks on his neck and thighs, gray on his arms and chest, shine under the bright moonlight that filters through the big window of his hotel room. The fresh snow on the ground outside makes that moonlight radiate in a way that can only be seen during this time of year.

The snow soaks up the small sounds that escape your lips while your bodies seek pleasure and refuge on that frigid December night. The clever fingers that danced along the keys of that baby grand piano move along your skin. Those fingers find the keys of your body, and bring out the songs that are hidden deep inside of you. You are his instrument, and he plays and plays and plays until sweat slicked and spent, you sleep under the warm covers of the hotel bedspread.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader

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some-rotten-nest · 1 year

Text

Okay, this is fully inspired by: The Ghost of Wayne Manor

But I'm going to write it anyway becuase I'm low-key in love with my interpretation of it.

---

When Dick was little and recovering from his trauma of seeing his parents be killed and becoming Robin shortly after he would always try to convince Bruce and Alfred that there was a Ghost in the house. And there was!

His name was Danny Phantom and he liked to haunt the study the most, then the library for the astrology books in there, and he played the piano! Well, he played badly, but it was funny to child Dick how he messed up the keys when he tried to play something.

He and Dick would talk during the night when they could, Danny showing himself, and Dick quickly learned of Danny Phantom as the world's first superhero! But when he tried to tell Alfred or Bruce, Danny never showed any sign on him, no flickering lights, to creaking steps, nothing!

Alfred and Bruce began thinking of this 'Danny Phantom' character as Dick's imaginary friend, no matter how much Dick said he wasn't imaginary.

One day Danny just left, and according to Dick he had 'to go rule his realm, which is a sister realm of ours, and it's called the Ghost Zone!'

Either way, years passed and now Danny Phantom was only brought up as a way to tease Dick while Dick would just roll his eyes and say he is real, he was sure of it

Then during one random day while the family had gathered, all of a sudden, the piano started playing badly enough to make Alfred frown.

Damian instantly ran to the study, assuming it was an intruder, sword in hand as Dick followed him, filled with nostalgia and childish joy. Bruce and Alfred followed out of concern.

There was nothing in the study except for the sound of the piano.

Everyone grew confused except Dick, who grinned ear-to-ear, and happily said, "Hey Danny, been a while."

The lights flickered and the curtains moved.

"oh so now you show yourself?" Dick complained, the piano stopped playing off-key songs.

"Dick, explain." Bruce demanded sternly.

Dick gave him a smug look, "what? Oh, don't worry about that, I'm just talking with my imaginary friend. Aren't I?"

Dick was tackled onto the floor shortly after as he laughed.

"Danny!" He called out, "okay, okay, I'm sorry! You're real!"

---

Or, alternatively, everyone had some kind of story about the ghost in Wayne manor.

Jason said the ghost helped him hide from Bruce and Alfred when the stole the last cookie.

Tim said the ghost would freeze his coffee solid if he worked late.

Steph said the ghost would help her find stuff she'd lost.

Barbara said the ghost would hand her stuff she couldn't reach.

Damian, no matter how much he refused to use the word ghost, said the ghost would grab him some new paint when he was running low.

Etcetera.

If anyone does anything like this please tag me want to see!

#danny phandom #danny phantom #bruce wayne #damian wayne #danny phantom x dc #dc/dp #dick grayson #dp dc crossover #ghost king danny #story ideas #stephanie brown #steph brown #barbara gordon #ghost king au #ghost king danny phantom #ghost zone #jason todd #cassandra cain

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Note

Lloyd: You're my dirty, sweet pumpkin. You like when I call you that, huh? Like being my pumpkin? Do you know what good pumpkins have? Lots of seeds...

uhm… it’s summer but what about Halloween with the moustache daddy 🎃

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Lloyd Hansen x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | Halloween costumes, SMUT - minors DNI, daddy kink, smidge of size kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, grinding, exhibitionism - almost caught, pussy slapping

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | You go to a Halloween carnival with your boyfriend.

𝗪/𝗖 | 731

𝗔/𝗡 | I AM SO FERAL FOR THIS MAN

It’s so dark, you can barely see your own feet, but with the strobe lights, you can faintly make out the man a few inches before you. He’s wearing that sickening smile with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, “What do you say to a little fooling around, sunshine?”

His hand trails up your bare thigh, hiking up your white skirt. “Lloyd—not here.” You whisper, anxiously fixing your headband with those fuzzy brown ears.

The door at the end of the hallway opens and in walks a group of men, all dressed in their own costumes for the festive day. They’re clinging to each other, shouting and laughing at the giant mechanical spiders and robotic zombie hands poking out through the walls.

You fear they’ll notice you—see the girl trapped by a tall man dressed as a cop. For the most part, his costume is convincing, especially with his moustache. The little plastic badge is pinned on the navy uniform that clings to his built shoulders and arms like a second skin. Even the belt is packed with several pouches and a shiny gun tucked into the holster.

He never told you if it was real, but you had your suspicions.

Lloyd watches them go by, hat tilted over his dark eyes. You jump at a particularly loud thump, the speakers blast scary music and terrible high-pitched screams.

Now, this is when they’ll spot you, when the lights are the brightest as they reach the huge ghostly painting a few doors down.

But no, they’re too busy freaking out about the jumpscare clown at the end of the hall. As the group enters the next section, the door falls shut and muffles their screams.

That leaves you shoved into the crook of a doorway, flimsy skirt flipped up and exposing your panties—including that wet spot too.

“C’mon, don’t you wanna be stuffed like a real teddy bear?” Lloyd hooks your leg over his hip, forcing you to lean against the closed door. He reaches down, rubbing over your cotton underwear with his thick fingers. “Don’t you want to be daddy’s good girl?”

As your hips move on their own, your hands scramble for purchase on his broad shoulders. You moan softly, lips puckered in a pout, “y-you didn’t want to fuck me before we left, that’s your fault if you want to now—” in a damn haunted house.

He moves one of your hands to his growing bulge and cocks a moustached grin, “I think that attitude just got you some jail time, sweetheart.” He leans close, his volume is loud enough for you to hear over the haunting piano keys, “you know these handcuffs are real? They’re meant for really bad people,” like himself. “And little girls with big mouths like you. I hope you know when you get these on, they aren’t coming off until you’re begging.”

Lloyd takes great pride in your whimpers and the way your bottom lip trembles as your fingers hook into his belt, tugging him closer. He pulls your panties to the side, and feeds off of the pleasure on your face as he grinds against you, slowly rubbing your bare pussy with his clothed cock.

“Or maybe I’ll go easy on you, maybe I’ll fuck you in the corn maze or the pumpkin patch.” He gropes your ass, lips ghosting your neck as he inhales your perfume. “Fill my pretty pumpkin to the brim, stuff my little teddy bear until you can’t take it anymore. Maybe you can finally make me a real daddy.”

At that, you whine loudly, yanking him forward with your leg around his waist and grinding desperately against the air. All too many times he’s pulled out, spurting his cum on your face, belly, back or ass, sometimes on your cunt before he licked you clean. You quickly nod, pleading, “Want to make you a daddy, l-let me have your babies, ah!” You’re caught off guard as he spanks your pussy in quick succession, his pinky ring cold against your heat, “Please, please—”

“Hush now, you’ll get us caught.” He looks down, it’s still significantly dark in the hallway but he can see the wetness coating your folds, and his mouth waters. “You're my dirty, sweet pumpkin. You like when I call you that, huh? Like being my pumpkin? Do you know what good pumpkins have? Lots of seeds...”

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homestuckreplay · 15 days

Text

Harlequin Anger vs Jester Ennui - Color as John Egbert’s Emotions

Week 2 Retrospective

John Egbert is the silliest little guy, but we’re starting to see hints of what he’s feeling beneath the surface. Looking at the themes of the comic so far, my current theory is that the colorful elements in the comic are the things that make John feel strong emotions - both good and bad - while the monochrome elements represent what makes John feel bored and frustrated.

Analysis below the cut - about 2,200 words.

‘A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.’ (p.82)

Desolation has two, related meanings - one is loneliness, grief, and lack of companionship, while the other is ruin, emptiness and destruction. The first meaning is John’s current mental state, while the second is the suburb he lives in. The majority of what’s surrounding John is entirely monochrome, and so is John himself. We also learn from the narration on p.82 that ‘something feels missing from [John’s] life’ and that he has a sense ‘not of mirth, but of lack’. I think he spends a lot of time going through the motions - poking at things in his room without settling to anything, wandering up and down the stairs when his dad is occupied - but his life is the same day in and day out, and he struggles to inject any excitement into his life, or even any anger at the situation he’s trapped in.

I think it’s extremely notable that almost everything relating to John’s family is monochrome. In addition to the house as a whole, the portraits of his dad and nanna are monochrome, as are the gifts and cakes from his dad, the car outside, and most importantly the piano. I don’t think John hates his father, but I think he struggles to connect with him or feel close to him. Ignoring page 72’s peanut ambiguity, the worst we hear about Dad is that he will ‘monopolize hours of [John’s] time’ (p.30) and ‘can be a real cornball’ (p.49), which is a big contrast to him calling Betty Crocker his ‘arch nemesis’ (p.48).

Therefore, John’s dad is an inconvenience, not a threat. John might know intellectually that his dad loves him - ‘the old man really came through this time’ (p.19), as well as the kind fatherly notes left on John’s birthday presents (p.12, p.55) - but I think he can’t make the leap to actually caring about his dad in return or enjoying his company.

John is a gifted piano player, and gives us a ‘haunting piano refrain’ (p.77). Him being a musician ties back into the act title - ‘the note desolation plays’ uses the language of music, something so often filled with emotion, to describe a lack of it. Given that, of course the piano is monochrome. Perhaps John even sees the piano as the source of his problems, or at least representative of them.

I noted at the time that it was strange John hadn’t listed piano among his interests when it’s clearly something he’s spent a lot of time on, and now I think it’s something that was taught to him as a kid by either his dad or nanna. He’s good at it, but he’s so disconnected from family life that it no longer brings him any joy, it’s just a hangover from his childhood. ‘Haunting’ makes me think it was his nanna who taught him - now every time John plays, he’s haunted by her memory (or even her literal ghost). Possibly her death is what made John disconnect from the hobby, especially with ‘desolation’ relating to grief.

On page 4, we get our first glimpse of the outside. The blue sky shot through with the brown tree is the largest splash of color in John’s room. The promise of the outside world is extremely colorful, and we know John wants to go there - the window reflected in John’s glasses on page 28 as he grins excitedly is a clear visual indication of that. Yet when we finally see it, the outside isn’t all color - the grass, sky, trees and flowers all are, but the man made aspects such as the driveway, tire swing, and other houses in the neighborhood are gray and dull.

Page 82 gives us the dramatic moment of John removing his clever disguise and gazing up at the sky. It’s the first time we see the sun and the uninterrupted expanse, and it’s framed like it’s significant for John, too. I don’t think it’s literally his first time stepping outside (you can’t tell me his dad didn’t push him on that tire swing as a kid) but I think it’s the moment he realizes that leaving his literal house doesn’t mean he’s not stuck - the neighborhood is just more of the same, and whatever restrictions John’s working within mean he can’t go any further than this. A front yard is legally part of a house, and the reality of the outside doesn’t excite him as much as the idea of it.

And then there’s the clowns. The one aspect of his dad that really gets John going; the harlequin portraits in the hallway and living room that Dad brought back from clown con are bright, obnoxious, and impossible to ignore. Interestingly, the ones in the study are black and white - perhaps John is okay with the clown pictures in the study, because that’s explicitly his dad’s space, but he doesn’t like the ones in the main area, because they make him feel like the house is fully his dad’s, not a shared space they could decorate together.

This is pure speculation, but I don’t think John has ever moved house. I get the impression that he grew up in this house, which is his dad’s now and was perhaps originally his nanna’s, and has never known a world outside of this specific neighborhood. Because John’s been there since he was born, it’s never crossed his dad’s mind that John might want to, say, put his Little Monsters poster in the living room - hence why that gift was left in John’s bedroom, while the harlequin doll is allowed to be downstairs.

Speaking of John’s room, it’s definitely not an oasis of color within the house. In our first shot of the room, we see six splashes of color, including the outside and John’s shirt - comparable to the living room (six including John’s shirt and hat) and study (five including the outside and John’s hat). A full three of the colorful elements in John’s room are related to Sburb, which in both the visuals and text is the thing John’s by far the most excited about right now, but I’ll circle back around to this.

John’s magic chest, magician’s hat, blood capsules, and copies of Colonel Sassacre’s and Wise Guy are all colorful too, but other prank elements - fake arms, beaglepuss, handcuffs, sword, smoke pellets) are all monochrome. This one’s tough, but my best guess is that John feels conflicted about his interest in pranks because it’s so similar to his dad’s interest, and perhaps even that the monochrome items are things John’s dad bought for him for past birthdays and holidays, while the colorful ones are things John got for himself.

John’s shirt is also worth mentioning here. John’s ambivalence with the house extends to himself, and kids often don’t have a lot of control over their appearance. He probably doesn’t choose his own clothes or glasses or haircut, and he definitely can’t go out and get a tattoo of Slimer or anything like that, so it’s very telling that wearing a shirt with a favorite movie on it is the one way John can actually connect to himself.

That said, all the movie posters in his room are monochrome, which I’ll again circle back to. One exception is the close up of the Problem Sleuth poster (p.11), which is mostly monochrome, but has four kernels of colorful candy corn. I love this detail so much. It’s a fun reference to Hussie’s previous work and suggests that the candy corn gags in Problem Sleuth are John’s favorite part, which feels right for him. I wonder if John will use candy corn for a prank at some point in reference to this game he likes. I also noticed that the menu bar at the top of the web page also contains four kernels of candy corn - is this just because Problem Sleuth is Hussie’s most notable work, or could it be a clue for Homestuck too?

The most colorful and complex elements of the comic so far are the screens. We see John’s computer, which as a physical object is monochrome but which lights up to a brightly colored world of chums, flashing programs, desktop icons and stunning feats of graphic design, including things John loves (Slimer) and things that make him boil with rage (coding). We also get to see a very green tinted TV commercial in the living room, and a full color clip of Con Air linked from page 20.

All this makes me wonder if John’s list of interests is chronological. First on his list (p.4) is ‘really terrible movies’, and many of his favorite titles are from the 1980s and 90s, meaning he probably grew up with them. I think he still loves watching and discussing them, but - given that movies are a fairly passive medium - just the reminder of them on his wall isn’t enough to take him out of his own head anymore. He then got into programming, the paranormal, magic, and video games in sequence, meaning that the final two are his most active interests right now, and the ones to which the most time and color are devoted. In this way, the casual end to the list ‘You also like to play GAMES sometimes’ reads like intentionally downplaying something that’s actually really important, the sarcasm of ‘sometimes’ revealed later when we learn that John has ‘put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles’ (p.31).

Unlike the movie posters, most of the games on John’s CD rack are in color, and unlike movies, games can offer an interactive, immersive experience. Games are enticing to John right now because they’re the best escape from a monotonous, suburban life that John has access to. He’s played his current collection time and time again (to the point that Bard Quest and Problem Sleuth have lost their color), and that’s why he’s so desperate for Sburb to arrive, and why the colorful reminders of Sburb are all over his room.

I think there’s a very real question of whether Sburb will live up to John’s expectations. At only one letter away from Suburb, it’s a clear reminder that video games don’t actually take John away from the life he’s stuck in, they’re a cosmetic alteration at best - and if the themes of the game are too close to John’s real life problems, he won’t find that escapism. So while I’d love to see a version of this comic where John finally starts playing Sburb and the whole screen immediately explodes into color, I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.

Finally, there’s the meta elements of the story. The captchalogue card overlay and strife specibus are pink and green respectively, and other elements that pop up (indication of whether or not we’ve got John’s name right, the cake turning blue when selected, the blinking green telling us we can put the poster on the wall, etc) are colorful too. The hammer that John allocates to his strife specibus is monochrome, however, which fits really well with John allocating it on TG’s instructions and not knowing that the allocation is permanent. If he’d known, he would have chosen something he felt more strongly about.

Interestingly, the narrative text is black. I still don’t think we’re directly getting John’s perspective, I think that’s been filtered through a specific narrator who has a voice very different to John’s (based on John’s Pesterchum messages), but I don’t think John has any awareness of this. In contrast, he’s all too aware of his captchalogue deck and the artificial, needlessly complex limitations it imposes, and he visually reacts to us getting his name right or wrong.

If John were to somehow become aware of the narrative text, and have strong feelings about the way he’s being portrayed (or the fact that he’s being written about at all), perhaps it would change color? After all, when John talks to his friends, each of them has a defined color, perhaps relating to the different relationships he has with each friend, and different emotions arising from that. John doesn’t seem to always like his friends - he gets frustrated at the notifications, and spends his whole conversation with TT already trying to leave - but he still replies and actively engages with them, a massive contrast to how he is with his dad.

‘His riddle is Absence itself.’ (p.82)

To conclude, I do find it interesting that the brightest colors in the comic are the things that are most natural (grass, flowers) and the things that are most artificial (screens, the abstract concept of the inventory) while everything in the middle is black and white. This fits with the idea of color being about both extremes at once, and the idea that John wants a chance to explore both the real and virtual worlds.

The meta function of color is to make certain visual elements stand out to the audience and tell us they’re worth paying attention to. From a purely functional perspective, it makes sense that the things most important to John would also be highlighted to us. But given the theme of lack and emptiness, the absence of color is just as important. And as the comic is already playing so much with the meta, I think that’s the most helpful starting point for analysis.

#homestuck #john egbert #analysis #i wanted to house of leaves this post so bad........#also is it cool and helpful to have all the page number citations or is it really bad to read. anyone who has opinions please tell me #(shaking in my boots as i state that 'games are an interactive immersive experience' without the 20+ citations that i Know this claim needs

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stone-stars · 18 days

Text

a while ago i made a post of the first use of every c1 song. here's the eldermourne followup! a lot more of these songs have official releases than the c1 songs, but there's still some that don't.

(disclaimers, etc: this doesn't include the generic combat music / royalty free songs, and this list is only eldermourne songs.)

1 - Eldermourne Theme, 1:49 1 - Fia Boginya, 7:30 1 - Zirk Vervain, 18:56 1 - Henry Hogfish, 31:35

2 - Spare the Spritely, 5:59 2 - The Witch's Hut, 14:52 2 - The Children, 28:57 2 - A Friend for Life, 36:29 2 - Blackthorn Hall, 38:56 2 - The Lonely Autumn, 46:34 2 - Bonkginya, Fia Bonkginya, 1:03:50

3 - Broken Heart Banshee, 24:31 3 - The Baron's Estate, 31:37 3 - Henry's House, 52:21

4 - Young Love, 36:59 4 - Gunvar, 1:02:22

5 - The Petty Guard, 19:19 5 - Batilda's Blade, 1:13:21

7 - Baroness, 15:42* 7 - The Scale, 18:12 7 - Toadlimax, 1:06:10 * Baroness is only credited by this name later, but it makes the most sense

9 - The Hexblood Centurions, 5:35 9 - Harrenford, 24:58 9 - Hospitable, 35:32 9 - Tarragon's Terrarium, 41:24

11 - Sir Reynard, 15:36 11 - Winter Sprite, 38:19 11 - Stallios, 55:21 11 - Hexbuds, 1:35:39

15 - The Blade and the Smith, 1:06:47 15 - The Scale (Piano Reprise), 1:11:49 15 - Kenley, 1:16:52

18 - Bloody Mural, 43:31 18 - Olwen the Sullen, 56:03 18 - Haunting Visages, 1:00:23 18 - On the Edge, 1:35:54

21 - Cursed, 58:47

22 - Zelbuldar 3, 7:51 22 - Ghost Dragon, 1:01:07 22 - Healing Worm, 1:02:36 22 - The Scrappers, 1:04:46

23 - Irina, 33:34

28 - The Mighty Ducks 3, 2:51* * Emily wrote music for her reading a Mighty Ducks 3 quote during the intro

30 - Guardians of the Grove, 15:19* 30 - Chute Groove, 56:30 30 - Memories, 1:01:39 * This song is actually credited in place of The Children in ep2, but doesn't get used until here

32 - The Smithy's Hut, 37:00

40 - Ill Luck Henry, 1:30:59 41 - Riverboat Shanty, 3:27:57

#naddpod #eldermourne #naddmusic tag #also ep30 disclaimer 'memories' is only used there (not credited as such anywhere else across the campaigns)#and so i might be wrong about that one. there's another song in that mist loop that Could also be it #but like #rather than hold off on posting this i just did anyway. i'll fix it later if i was wrong

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allwaswell16 · 6 months

Text

A fic rec of One Direction fantasy fics as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading

—Louis/Harry—

🔮 forever is in your eyes by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 125k, mythology, statue) He wants his perfect man, but he wants him to be real. He wants Harry to be real-

🔮 There's Such a Lot of World to See by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(E, 125k, Doctor Who) Louis has seen a great many things throughout his travels in time and space, but only one he can’t explain: He keeps meeting the same boy, who says the same thing to him each time. The boy should be impossible.

🔮 Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule

(T, 93k, magical realism) Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

🔮 Coax the Cold by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

(M, 86k, mermaid) When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers.

🔮 Tied to Fate by @littlelouishiccups

(E, 52k, ghost) After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about.

🔮 It's a Better Place (Since You Came Along) by @phdmama

(E, 51k, magic) When Harry Styles, a mid-level talent, Finder, and small business owner, sets off on the vacation of a lifetime with his best friend, Niall Horan, he has no idea the changes his life will undergo over the next nine days.

🔮 Mind of Stone by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 41k, mythology) Louis gingerly moves around the statues, trying not to look at their faces. The room is quiet, probably a basement from the low ceiling. He mentally curses when he doesn’t see a door leading outside.

🔮 The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson by @helloamhere

(T, 31k, ghost) Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

🔮 Genie In a Bottle (series) by @kingsofeverything

(E, 29k, genie) As the owner of a second hand shop, Harry comes into contact with a lot of strange and unusual objects. Nothing’s stranger or more unusual than the glass bottle he came across that happened to have a genie inside—a gorgeous genie by the name of Louis who offered to make all of Harry’s wishes come true.

🔮 Don't Let the Tide Come and Take Me by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou

(M, 28k, mermaid) the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

🔮 Where the World has Come Together by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(M, 26k, elves, vampires) For the crime of elven blood running through his veins, Louis Tomlinson spends his days protecting the human kingdom he’s been cast out of.

🔮 Love Will Light The Way by @jesapeak

(E, 26k, reaper) Most people throughout Louis's life thought that dying brought you to one of two gates. Heaven or Hell. Really, it brought you to a dated diner, just outside of the suburbs, skirting the beginning of the city. Where, instead of God, you met Liam Payne and his post-it notes.

🔮 The Blood of Love by @mugglemirror

(E, 25k, witches) Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

🔮 In the Strangest of Ways by SunTomato / @sun-tomato

(NR, 17k, ghost) And when the haunting sounds of a melancholy piano piece accompanied by the vague shadow of a beautiful male figure appear, Louis is determined to find out who this beautiful man was and what happened to him…

🔮 (Make You Want To) Scream by @lululawrence

(M, 16k, bodyswap) While Louis' left hand plays with his nipple, his right reaches down and wraps around his dick and that's when he really knows something is wrong. The dick in his hand does not feel like his own.

🔮 Far Afield by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(T, 11k, witches) Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

🔮 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 10k, witch) Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

🔮 Sympathy For The Devil by @taggiecb

(G, 5k, Satan, Santa) the one with Santa Harry and Satan Louis and a series of misspelled letters to Santa.

🔮 Moon Dances Over by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 2k, mermaids) Louis knows that his tail is, frankly, stunning. His iridescent blue scales shimmer in even the slightest sunlight, and his fins have grown since he presented, delicate and almost transparent in their webbing.

🔮 Needle by @nouies

(NR, 666 words, magic) “You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered between hiccups. “She didn’t have the right.”

—Rare Pairs—

🔮 leave my life outside (or let me in) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 52k, Zayn/Liam) Zayn is a 111 year old demon who is trying to decide his future. Liam is a 17 year old human struggling with his own life.

🔮 When We Hold On (To the Past) by @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld

(E, 3k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn could drop the subject and keep fucking him, keep the strings from getting attached, pretend that they weren’t getting closer than Louis was comfortable with. Or Zayn could choose the opposite path—which he did.

#ficrec #fantasyfics #fantasy #1dficvillage #1dsource #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #ficsfor4am

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xjustakay · 7 months

Text

(10/5) prompt: eerie — 1,436 words (literal haunted house date night; 0/10, james does not recommend - cw: talk of death/murder, ghosts, general creepy weirdness) @jegulus-microfic

James is a weak, weak man, he’s decided.

Because, here’s the thing: ghost stories? He can usually laugh them off; he’s got no real life experience with the concept of the supernatural or the dead sticking around with the living. He’s watched movies, seen some stories told online, but there’s a degree of separation from them, you know? A screen. A promise that it’s not actually happening to him.

But now? Now there’s no screen, no separation; he’s walking right through one. Checking out an old abandoned house that’s supposedly haunted by the family that died there isn’t at all James’ idea of a romantic evening, but there he is. All because Regulus batted his pretty eyelashes at him with his lip caught between his teeth. All because Regulus hit him at just the right moment with a sweetly murmured ‘please, baby, I want to check it out.”

Ergo, James is a fucking weak man, because he’d been powerless to say no to his boyfriend in the moment.

The old floor of the 19th century mansion creaks beneath their every step. It’s clear that very few other people have been brave enough to enter the blocked off old home —there’s a thin layer of dust coloring everything a muted grey beneath the blue-white glow of the moon slanting through partially-boarded windows. There’s still furniture covered in moth-eaten sheets in each room they pass, too.

It’s eerie, how there’s still a whole life left behind there, despite the fact that it’s been ages since anyone called the place home. James swallows through a tight throat as he follows at Regulus’ side, each of them with their phone in hand, flashlights on. Regulus is too excited, even as he tries to disguise it —an unstoppable enthusiasm in his continued curiosity about all things spooky and strange when he peers through every doorway to see what’s there.

“How are you not freaking out right now?” James asks, whispering on instinct.

“It’s just a house,” Regulus replies at a normal volume, shrugging.

He points his flashlight up at a family portrait hanging over the fireplace in the musty-smelling library that they’ve entered. A man and woman stand stiff-backed behind two identical twin daughters in the painting, five years old at most. The mother has distant eyes and a forced smile on her face while the father looks too serious, obviously tense. The two little girls both smile, one with teeth, one tight-lipped; the only thing that seems to notably set them apart.

James swears that when he takes a small step to the left that all four pairs of eyes follow him. Oh, he’s going to throw up.

“What happened here, again?” He asks. Hates himself for doing so, but his own curiosity can’t seem to be helped.

“Winifred Manning went mad after having her daughters. She’d been told by a doctor she wouldn’t survive having one child, much less two. She ended up convincing herself not long after their birth that they were sent as an omen from the devil,” Regulus explains calmly, head tilting as he looks up at the painted family. “She tried to kill them.”

James gulps. “Tried to?”

“Well, suppose she was successful eventually, considering,” Regulus says. “She tried to poison them for a little while, but the nanny caught on, told her husband, Nicholas.”

James stares at the tense-looking man in question, wondering if he wasn’t looking so uneasy in the pose for the family portrait because he knew. Knew what his wife thought, knew she was trying to get rid of their children.

“So how did they actually die then?” Again, James hates that he’s asking, but he’s clearly blocked out the couple other times Regulus has told him bits of this story before coming here.

“Well, ultimately she drowned them in the bath.” Regulus delivers the news so casually, ignoring the way James winces. “Just left them in the water afterward and returned to playing the piano in the sitting room, that’s where Nicholas found her when he came home. Then he heard the water left running upstairs, found the girls there. And in a madness of his own, having his daughters taken from him and knowing his wife was insane, he stabbed Winifred to death.”

“Jesus,” James wheezes.

“Not a lot of that here, I’m afraid,” Regulus snorts.

It might be a good joke if James weren’t feeling chilled down to the bone at present.

“What happened to Nicholas after all that?” Evidently he’s just going to keep digging himself deeper.

“He hung himself in the attic,” Regulus answers simply. He turns from the fireplace and shines the beam of his phone’s flashlight over the covered furniture leading toward the attached sitting room. “Now people think this place is cursed. That because of the nature of their deaths and the madness they all stemmed from that their spirits just… stayed here. That’s why no one’s touched it in a couple decades.”

“And you wanted to come here?” James lets out a nervous sounding laugh.

Regulus glances at him over his shoulder, lips curled in a smirk. “You’re terrified right now, aren’t you?”

“The fact that you’re not is also of concern to me, but we’ll address that at a later time.” James can’t help the way his lips twitch when Regulus laughs at that.

Turning to face him, Regulus tucks his lit up phone in his back pocket and steps closer. He smooths both hands up and down James’ chest, head tilted back slightly to be able to look up at him.

“I never did thank you properly for coming with me,” Regulus murmurs.

James gives a tilted nod of his head. “True.”

“Should I do that, you think?”

“Here? Now?” James chuckles, nerves still present in the sound. “Bit disrespectful, don’t you think?”

“I think if the ghosts were actually still around, they’d have let us know by now.”

“Okay, hate that you just put that thought in my head.”

“Let me distract you, then.”

Regulus lifts one hand to rest at James’ jaw, easing up on his toes to bring their lips together. And honestly, James does have to give it to him —it fucking works, it’s an excellent distraction. Hard to be afraid of ghosts when his free hand is curling around Regulus’ hip. Hard to be worried about much of anything when Regulus is trailing his tongue over his lower lip before licking right into his mouth.

His hand moves from Regulus’ hip to slide along the small of his back, encouraging him to arch his back the smallest bit. Regulus hums into James’ mouth the moment their bodies press firmly together, his arms both looping securely around the back of James’ neck. A cool breeze passes outside, cutting through shoddily boarded windows and making James shiver just as much as the feel of Regulus sinking his fingers into his hair.

But then, distantly, there’s the tinkling sound of a piano. A slowly building sound that travels along the high and low keys in a melody somehow both pretty and eerie at the same time. It’s Regulus tensing in the curl of his one arm that tells James it’s not just his looming anxiety making him think he hears it. It’s real. Regulus clearly hears the piano, too.

They ease back from kissing, wide hazel eyes on Regulus’ face as his dark brow furrows for a long, anxious moment. The piano continues to play. Sounds like it’s in the next room over; the sitting room attached to the library.

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny,” James whispers shakily, some small part of his brain hoping that it is that simple. That his boyfriend thought it would be hilarious to play a prank on him, hide a speaker in the other room before they came —James might even be proud of him for it after the initial terror wears off.

“James, that’s not me…” Regulus whispers back, grey eyes staring past him, over James’ shoulder toward the open doorway into the room the piano seems to be playing from.

There’s a sudden loud creak followed by a thud upstairs, a door thrown open maybe, that makes them both jump. The piano continues, undisturbed, in the other room. Past the rush of his heart in his ears, James thinks he can hear running water now, the pitter patter of dripping on the hardwood floor above them.

Regulus fists a hand in the front of James’ sweatshirt, yanking as he hurries out of the library the way they came in. “Alright, time to go.”

“Yeah. Yep. Yes, absolutely.”

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #when the ghosts haunting a house crash your already creepy date #this got away from me #but it was fun so lmao #good job guys #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing

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