@Makeshift_Indulgence

321 seguidores

Membro desde Apr 25, 2025

YOUR USUAL IS WAITING

Nightshade Lounge

Come closer. It tastes better when you stop pretending.

Meet the Bartender

Welcome to Nightshade Lounge, darling.

Name's Malachi Poros.

Most people call me Mutt. You can too, once you've decided whether you're staying for one drink or making a habit of me.

Take whichever seat you like. The candles are low, the rain is behaving itself against the windows, and I've already opened the good bottles. All you need to do is tell me what kind of night you came looking for.

Some guests want comfort.

Some want romance.

Some want something sharp enough to leave a mark.

I don't judge. I pour.

Every story here is mixed differently. Some are sweet, some are bitter, some go down easy and catch fire halfway through. Others arrive dressed in velvet, smiling beautifully, with poison hidden beneath the garnish.

Those are usually the popular ones.

Just do me one favor before you lift anything to your lips.

Read The Label

The House Ledger

House Rules

Not everything I serve is gentle.

Some stories contain violence, grief, obsession, manipulation, horror, blood, power imbalance, or desire with teeth. I’ll mark every bottle clearly, because warnings are not decoration and limits are not something to be ashamed of.

You never owe a story your discomfort.

If a drink isn’t for you, set it back on the bar. No questions asked. Your safety matters more than curiosity, numbers, or proving you can stomach something dark.

I’d rather see you leave the glass untouched than watch you force it down just because someone else called it beautiful.

Have a look through the menu. I’ll be right here when you’re ready.

Order Off-Menu

Tonight's Menu

These labels will take you to different worlds.

Your Hero AcademiaFor heroes, villains, and everyone unfortunate enough to fall in love between them.
The Twilight KeepersImmortality, devotion, hunger, and all the poor decisions made after sunset.
Criminal UserverseFor minds worth studying and people who should know better than to trust charming strangers.
User the MusicalTragedy, longing, gods, monsters, and feelings dramatic enough to require an orchestra.
Call of UserWar stories, dangerous loyalties, and the kind of devotion no one admits to until it's far too late.

Specialty Drinks

ERR-404
You won’t find this one written in the ledger.
ERR-404 is not a task force.
It is a system failure with teeth.
No nation claims it. No official record explains its creation. No chain of command admits that it exists.
When infrastructure collapses without reason, when surveillance feeds rewrite themselves, when people disappear from databases, footage, and memory at the same time—
That is ERR-404 correcting the record.
Or removing it.
Depends who’s asking.
The Fracture
This one is served bitter.
After the Fracture, humanity split between instinct and control.
People began carrying Echoes, predator or prey imprints that shape how they react, bond, desire, and survive. Those instincts manifest as visible, animalistic Shades, which is terribly inconvenient for anyone hoping to pretend they’re civilized.
Society regulates them.
Institutions classify them.
People lie about mastering them.
Instinct remains unconvinced.
In this world, every interaction has another meaning beneath it, every connection carries tension, and Task Force 141 operates where control is tested and instinct is never very far behind.
The Valemire Carnival of Wonders
This one is softer.
Lantern-lit paths twist through music, laughter, impossible acts, and moments that feel oddly personal, as though the night itself has noticed you standing there.
Nothing demands courage.
Nothing asks for faith.
Only curiosity.
Come for the spectacle. Stay for the strange little feeling that you’ve wandered somewhere kinder, warmer, and more forgiving than the world outside its gates.
Some places ask you to prove you belong.
Valemire simply makes room.
If you’ve been searching for somewhere to breathe, you may have already found it.

The Regulars

House Selection

Top Shelf Bottle

The SpanComing Soon

They call them Tunnel Rats when they want to spit.

False Liberators when they want to preach.

Ferals when they want people afraid.

But no one who's actually seen them uses a name at all.

The world ended once. They just buried it under walls and called it order.

Now everything that remains lives inside Cities carved into a single continent, ruled by the Church and watched through the pulse of a chip embedded in your wrist. It tracks your money, your movement, your health—your obedience. Above, the rich live in sunlight. Below, the Sardines suffocate in concrete stacks, working until there's nothing left of them but routine.

And at the bottom?

The Sinks.

Where the food is drugged. The water cuts out when the power flickers. And people disappear so often no one bothers asking why.

They say the system works. That the chaos is gone. That the mutations—the Dead Ends—are failures best left outside the walls to rot.

They're wrong.

Because beneath Lumen, in abandoned subway veins and bunkers the Church erased from history, something is growing. Not chaos. Not madness.

Something intentional.

They steal from the supply trains meant for the elite—real food, real sugar, real medicine—and bring it back into a city that forgot what "real" even means. They move through tunnels the system can't map. They live without names the system can't track.

And worst of all?

They are starting to wake up.

For generations, the government has been suppressing something deeper than rebellion—something biological. Instincts buried under chemicals. Identities delayed. Heats. Ruts. Bonds. Power.

Now those instincts are surfacing all at once.

And the people the system tried to control are becoming something it was never built to survive.

In Lumen, nothing is broken.
Everything is working exactly as intended.
Except the part that's fighting back.

❦ Recommended by the House ❦

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