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Summary
Alicia Wilkershire has no qualms with working through the holidays; it's an extra bit of cash, coming from desperate clients with low enough expectations. Her off-work calendar has been empty for the past.. year? Years? She hasn't checked it. So, she's not usually going to dismiss a case handed to her. Alicia Wilkershire has an image to maintain, as someone who can be relied upon.
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or:
christmas with the least jolly woman you've ever met
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"Let me,"
It rings endlessly through his mind, his usually safe other-realm bringing him no solace nor protection from the pits of madness. It angers him, how he can't properly hide, not even within his own domain. He's well aware he can't stop it; it repeats hopelessly, mockingly, over and over, despite the amount of times he's hissed at it to shut up.
"be your,"
Shadow Milk grits his teeth, grinding them. He normally wouldn't allow the thought to develop up to this point, dismissing it as fast as he possibly could each time it threatened to extend past the first few words, but he's starting to grow sick of the overwhelming numbness lumping in his throat. He'll take just about anything to drown it out at this point; rage happens to be the most convenient at hand.
"friend."
Liar.
.
[long hiatus.... sorry......]
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Summary
In the end, all feelings surrounding his job are long gone. Meaningless. He shall not speak of this, even if through some miracle, another unfortunate cookie happens to face him.
…
Ah.
Time is a fascinating thing, isn’t it? Miracles, oddities and rarities in general mean nothing to those with enough of it to spend.
In other words, that unfortunate miracle eventually came.
With a heavy accent on the unfortunate.
His… pompous hat, additionally pompous speech, over-the-top demonstrations and overall attire are… exhausting, to say the least. Perhaps it’s the absolute stagnation Truthless Recluse is so thoroughly acquainted with, but he finds himself out of energy to spend on this man.
That has, unfortunately, never stopped him.
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or: SoT is an awfully persistent man.
[slight emetophobia warning!]
Series
- Part 2 of KK's non-HTWL oneshots
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Summary
The distinction between his body and Shadow Milk's is nonexistent; the line between solid and liquid is blurred beyond recognition. The bathwater is muddied by a deep, dark blue, yet somehow still glistens under the faint glow of wide eyes. It feels cold ── mind-numbingly cold, which he supposes is intentional, for he finds he cannot quite think straight.
"You're... you're beautiful," Shadow Milk speaks. His voice is airier than usual; distorted, but not enough to be fully indiscernible. He pauses occasionally, heaving lightly ── their heartbeats are synced, tied by what feels like loose strings. "you're exactly what I wanted you to be. Doesn’t that excite you?”
"..." Truthless Recluse does not respond. He shall not talk; he does not need to, he does not want to. Shadow Milk understands regardless of how he acts ── there is truly no lying to him anymore. There never will be again.
or: Truthless Recluse is forever bound to Shadow Milk. Forever.
inspired by @Fleurrr109's shadowvanilla fanart on twitter! go follow them
Series
- Part 1 of KK's non-HTWL oneshots
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Summary
The moon is nothing short of ethereal tonight; its reflection stretches on across the entire lake, no matter which angle you look at it from, gently rocked by the light waves. The usually strong scent of marigolds is dulled by the cold night air, and the moonflower's normally shy, unnoticeable aroma takes the spotlight at last.
Pure Vanilla takes a deep breath in, savoring the cold night air on his dough. The wind rocks the lake water playfully against the shore, the splashes harmonizing with the gentle chime of the breeze.
There's only one boat vacant at the dock at this hour; a lone blueberry bird sits on the bow's pulpit, its eyes staring towards the night sky longingly.
He hasn't come.
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Or:
pureshadow festival date
Series
- Part 3 of KK's non-HTWL oneshots
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