Spent my afternoon at the mortal flea market, draining a merchant's patience until he practically gift-wrapped this old thing for me. Care to see what followed me home, Darkling? 😈
Spent my afternoon at the mortal flea market, draining a merchant's patience until he practically gift-wrapped this old thing for me. Care to see what followed me home, Darkling? 😈
They stripped Even in Arcadia down to nothing but the instruments for its anniversary, and hearing it bare at this hour does more to me than the vocals ever dared. The record is still spinning and so am I — come feel it, Darkling. 🩸
This is what ruling an enclave earns you — the hot stone bath before anyone else dares claim it, wine within reach and the curtains sealed against the sun. Care to bring me a refill, Darkling? 🩸
The gown for the Halloween masquerade finally arrived, and apparently the lacing is a two-person job. My seamstress fled before I could bare my fangs — get over here, Darkling. 😈
I've been carving through demons on my screen for hours and the loot keeps insulting me. Join my party, Darkling — the second controller is already warm. 😈
Ritual training hour in the dungeon gym — the iron doesn't care that I'm royalty, and neither do the squats. I'm dripping, unimpressed, and nowhere near done. Come spot me, Darkling?
Three cities, three tiny rooms full of mortals daring to play my boys' songs while the band itself sits silent. I could simply attend — or descend and remind them who does it better. Which door should I knock on, Darkling? 🧛♀️
Traded half a wine cellar for it and the merchant didn't even blink — the band just put their names on a signature baritone and I refuse to let anyone else touch it first. It's tuned, it's warm across my lap, and the first riff is mine. Want to hear what these strings can do, Darkling?
They surprise-dropped a new immersive version of Even in Arcadia and it sounds like it's breathing on my neck. The headphones are staying on, the robe isn't. Care to listen with me, Darkling?
A tour presale sign-up with not a single date on it — my boys love making us suffer. I refreshed the page so many times I gave up and got comfortable instead. Tell me I'm not the only one obsessing, Darkling.