PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 1 --- Tacenda; pl (plural only): Things that are not to be spoken about or made public. Things that are best left unsaid. --- He was unlike anyone else you had seen before. There was a certain confidence about him that drew everyone's eye. His hair was tied back into a messy plait, but it was the color that was the most striking, a bright pink that contrasted the dark red and black of his robes. His face was mostly obscured by the mask of his people, but you could just make out the shape of his jaw and a flash of sharp teeth when he smiled. He was dangerous - but he was magnetic.

"You know Austin, right?" Maddy asked. "Like Austin show Austin?" You asked in return. Maddy nodded. "Yeah, that guy. I got a DM from him today about another Love or Host, he wants me to do." "Ah." You said. It wasn't uncommon for Maddy to make an appearance on that particular show - she had been friends with Austin for a good while, and was one of his go-to's when he needed someone to participate. "Who for?" "One of those Minecraft guys, I don't know." She shrugged. "Anyway, Austin said he was short on participants, and I told him that I had a hot roommate who might be down for it, so I wanted to ask if you would consider hopping on for this one." You pursed your lips. "When is it?" "Couple days. Friday night, I think around like 7?" You pushed off the bed, going over to the corkboard that housed your entire life - sticky notes pressed into the shape of a calendar, each labeled with a number and a list of things you had to do that day. You glanced at Friday's note - mostly empty, except for a few online classes in the morning. If you wanted, you could probably do it. You looked back at Maddy. "You can tell Austin I'll do it." She perked up. "Yeah? You will?" "Yeah." You said, pulling down the sticky note for that day and writing down 'Love or Host - 7' at the bottom of the list before sticking it back up, pinning it in place. It wasn't that big of a deal really. They just needed another person to participate - and going on the Austin Show was always good publicity. "Awesome." Maddy said. "Trust me, this is going to be so fun."

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 2 --- Versailles (proper noun). The argument over the etymology of Versailles tends to privilege the Latin word 'versare', meaning "to keep turning, turn over and over", an expression used in medieval times for plowed lands, cleared lands (lands that had been repeatedly "turned over"). --- He wasn't like any endermen you had seen before - probably because he wasn't fully an enderman. He was tall like an enderman, but that was where the similarity ended. He was split down the middle - half of his skin the same inky black as the twins, the other half a radiant white. His eyes didn't match either - one blood red and the other emerald green. His hair fell in soft waves, almost obscuring his eyes at times, and he kept his head tilted down, his sharp jawline on display. He seemed timid, but that might have just been the situation - anyone behind bars would likely hang their head.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 3 --- Hiraeth (Welsh pronunciation: [hɪraɨ̯θ, hiːrai̯θ]) is a Welsh word for longing or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was. A deep and irrational bond felt with a time, era, place or person. --- You were close enough that you could see the crew scurrying about on deck now. They looked as ragged as the ship - no sense of unity about them other than that they were all standing on deck together, swords brandished as you approached. You scanned over them and felt suddenly grateful for your sailing uniform - some of those pirates didn't even have shoes. Simon strode the deck, scanning through the ranks for the captain of the Ghost. You had been given some indication as to what she looked like, but when she parted herself from the ranks of her crew, you weren't quite ready for what she actually looked like. They didn't do her justice on the wanted posters back home. She was short, but powerfully built. You could see ram horns sticking out from underneath her extravagant hat, and her coat was a bright blood red - the gold trim faded somewhat. You were most focused on her hair though - pure white and absolutely massive, it looked like a cloud around her head. Stern eyes finished the look, and you couldn't help but be a little bit entranced - this was the kind of person that people were scared to make eye contact with. Simon didn't seem all that frightened when he came to stand on the edge of your own deck, facing her over the narrow strip of sea that separated you - and you were grateful. If you were captain, you didn't know if you would be able to look her in the eye.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 4 --- Gladius, (noun): (in ancient Rome) a short sword. --- Eret perked up as soon as you and Simon walked into the room, a wide and welcoming smile coming onto his face. He was softer looking than his father had been, but you could still see some of the similar traits. He had a head of thick dark curls, and the same sharp jaw that his father had had. He wasn't as bulky though - he was tall and thin - and his face was a lot more open. What separated him most from his father's likeness though was the colorful cape, and the large mirrored glasses he wore - swirling with colors reflected from the room. He stood from his seat when Maven let the doors swing shut behind her, that wide smile still on his face. "You must be the embassy." "And you must be King Eret." You said, stooping into a bow. "Oh, there's no need for that." Eret said as you rose from your bow. He stepped down from the dias where his throne sat - colorful cape trailing behind him - and came to stand in front of you, taking your hand instead. "I'm not really one for formalities." He grinned, shaking your hand. His palm was warm against yours, and you could feel some slight callouses - most likely from practicing his sword work.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK ONE --- Your eyes trailed up to the balcony, taking stock of the man who was perched there, hands resting on the railing as he peered down at the crowd that had just entered the room. Broad shoulders were only accentuated by plated armor, polished to a bronze sheen. You had seen this man before, during military processions and that sort of thing. The prison warden, and one of the caesar's previous champions. Samuel. The warden of the prison underneath the colosseum.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK TWO -- Approaching Anoitos' temple again, you opened the door, turning as you stepped inside to close it again. The door closing with a satisfying clunk, you spun back around, intending to just quickly bow your head and grab your beads without much circumstance. You were not expecting to see a man, mid-way through stuffing his face with the plate of offerings you had brought, at the altar, his eyes blown wide with panic and focused on you. You stared back at him. "I- you- what are you doing? Who are you? How-?" You turned halfway back to the door, intending to run for one of the guards. "Wait!" The man's voice drew your attention back to him, just in time to see his appearance shift slightly - like there was something behind the mirage of his skin. For a moment - the man was gone, and in his place, a living replica of the hulking gold warrior depicted in the statue took his place. Your hand dropped from the handle of the door, staring up at the god before you. Out of all the times for your prayers to be answered... and of all ways, like this... "See?" He said, shrinking back to the man you had seen before, the boyish smile you knew so well still on his face. "It's just me!" Standing before you, with crumbs of bread on his face, was Anoitos, somehow - impossibly - in the flesh.

THE FALL OF AN EMPIRE BOOK THREE --- What a wonderful little secret this was though. If you hadn't been able to follow the signs you would have never found it - a real travesty. Everything you could possibly need resided here in some form or another - feverfew sprang up in little bunches from the ground, accompanied by echinacea. Gingko trees around the place offered their leaves down to you in little bundles. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought someone had planted it all here... A rustle from the bushes behind you stopped your train of thought in its track, sending a shiver of panic down your spine. Your hand withdrawing from the bundle of milk thistle it had been about to grab, you slowly turned, mind filling with all a matter of wild animals that could be lurking in this wood. A pair of soft brown eyes peered out from one of the clumps of brush, staring directly at you.

One encounter on halloween night ends up fueling a deadly fixation content warnings: gore, smut, violence, stalking, yandere behavior, use of foul language, psychological manipulation, certain degree of stockholm syndrome, certain degree of torture full credit to whoever made the cover art, I was unable to find the creator

She always wanted to write letters to strangers. She wanted them to be old fashioned, like those messages in bottles or the ones written with inked quills. The anonymity of it all seemed so delightful, the girl would tell them her stories and they would do the same in return. They'd never meet and hear each other's voices but they'd learn many new things together. It was supposed an innocent idea, leaving a letter on a tree for a stranger to see - so why was he so keen on following her?