#Also not counting anything zombie/vampire

[violent138]

Bruce definitely trained all the Robins to abandon him if things got bad. He'd give them scenarios like him trapped under something in a fire, hypothermic conditions, he's too injured, and they need to get information to Lucius, and the list goes on. And to date, the only bit of training his kids have continually failed, whether in simulation or practice, is failing to leave him behind.

[ajarofpickledtears]

is it just me or is the marketing on this kinda... not great?

like, there is no info about the story except that it's a dystopia. goodreads or amazon ratings tell me nothing. yeah, I could click the link in hopes to find out more, but there isn't even an incentive for me to want to find out more.

this was posted on October 28th and has only 4 notes, so... yeah idk.

and while the review thing is valid, I feel it's kind of... out of place or random? the post hasn't made me want to even look up info, let alone even consider buying it, so reviews aren't even on the edges of my mind.

edit: posting like this bc even though I'd like to give the author constructive feedback I don't know if they even want it and can't put my thoughts into words properly rn. don't want to come across as mean or passive-aggressive.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

It's Just a Movie - The Sequel: Part 16 (The Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: blood pack drinking, cursing, descriptions of violence, mostly exposition, also lol hi everyone

Word Count: 2.2k

As the early light filtered through the Emerson house, you could hear the water shut off in the bathroom. Even rooms away, you could hear Star’s radio. ‘Mony Mony’ played loud enough for her to hear over the shower, and you could hear her footsteps padding across the tile as she stepped out. Despite all her collected tapes, she still listened to the top 100 stations whenever she was in a rush. Quickly, you tried to think of anything except Billy Idol and who he reminded you of.

You didn’t have to focus anymore to hear the kitchen below. Lucy hummed to herself as she unloaded the dishes from the dishwasher, and you could hear Grandpa’s morning conversation with his daughter and her soft chirps back at his quips. Laddie was still sleeping, and you could hear his even breathing. He slept the latest, the young boy getting the most slack out of everyone in the house. In a few moments, Lucy would check the time and then call above to get everyone moving. C’mon everyone! The bus doesn’t wait for lazy-bones! Michael was in his room, and you could hear him counting his pushups. Hear the quick beating of his heart. Sam was shuffling around his room after finally giving up on slapping his relentless alarm clock's snooze button. Nanook whined, and you could hear that Sam was asking him about the better between two shirts.

Your breathing was even as you hovered in your room. Your eyes were closed, your legs were criss-crossed, and your thirst was a dull tickle in your throat. The sore throat that never subsided. You had made that joke to Lucy once in the past few weeks, and the face she made was enough for you to not make it again.

Weeks. The thought made you falter in the air. Your legs were quick to catch you, so quick that any of the humans would’ve thought you’d meant to get down. Weeks on vampire blood, on sleepless nights and drowsy days, and on attempting to choke down whatever Lucy tried to feed you. Weeks since you’d talked to them. Really talked to them. You didn’t count their attempts to catch you on the boardwalk. And, weeks of nothing. No big battles, no identifiable movie scenes, no hunters. Nothing.

You flitted across your room and grabbed your shades. You slipped them on as you felt the sun start to pour through your window. Blinds and dark curtains could only do so much. Every inch the sun rose was more weight on your tired mind. But, Lucy didn’t like to see you sleep through your days, and it was easier to just make the daily appearance at breakfast rather than have her concern keep you up past lunch.

You were sluggish as you left your room. Sam ran up to you as soon as his door closed, and you knew he’d probably been waiting for the sound of your door to open. He was more hyper than Nanook, rattling off so quickly that you couldn’t even begin to process. Your brain was shutting off, even if your body trudged down the hall like a zombie.

The quickest way to shut him up was to ruffle his neatly combed hair, and to gently push him out of the way as you went for the stairs. Finally, your brain caught up with his mouth.

“C’mon, you promised to take me! Michael’s going out with Star and mom doesn’t want me on the boardwalk anymore, and I don’t wanna be stuck with Grandpa on a Friday night-” Friday. Was it Friday already? The weekdays seemed to go by in a blur. You couldn’t remember this promise Sam was clinging to, but you didn’t doubt that he’d probably weaseled it in when the sun was high and you were agreeing to anything he said as long as he left you alone to sleep.

“Hey. Tell me how you really feel, Sammy.” Grandpa said from the kitchen, sporting his usual bathrobe and shades. At least you weren’t the only one affected by the sun in this house. You sighed as you walked towards the table, Sam following at your heels.

“Sammy, you know I can’t.” You said. Weekends were for one thing. He was quick to whine, and you were quicker to shut him up with a simple. “I have plans.” You said, and he knew that you did. Your routine had become almost suffocatingly strict.

“But, even you said so yourself, you’re not making any progress, so,” You knew where he was going with this, and, luckily, you didn’t have to be the one to tell him to shut up.

“Sam.” Lucy said. She was putting plates of eggs and toast on the table. The stereotypical movie breakfast. You would’ve brightened at the sight if you had any appetite.

The argument lost your focus as you heard the three sets of footsteps down the stairs. You closed your eyes for a moment, bracing yourself for another tense morning.

Star had barely spoken to you since that day, and, despite your best attempts to not take offense, it was starting to get ridiculous. She kept Laddie tight next to her most days, and decided to firmly distrust vampires, half-vampires, and vampire hunters alike. So, out of everyone she knew, that left three. Michael, Lucy, and Laddie.

You couldn’t entirely blame her either. Michael was less prejudiced, and he, at least, greeted you in the morning.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” He said as he headed for the table. Star barely threw you a glance as she glided to her seat, and Laddie wiped his eyes as he followed her. He gave you a weak, sleepy hello, and you returned it.

“Sam is begging me to take him to a movie.” You said, and this piqued Laddie’s interest. He looked to Sam, his long brown hair flipping as he did.

“Movie?” He asked, and Sam quickly sighed. From that, you guessed this wasn’t something Lucy would let Laddie see. Which also potentially meant this wasn’t something Lucy would let Sam see. Now, you were seeing how you fit into this plan.

“Me and the Frogs.” Sam quickly said, and Michael let out a knowing sound. The sound of a brother who had already dodged this bullet earlier in the week.

“Well, Sam, you don’t need anyone to take you to the movies. You can go with your friends.” Lucy said, oblivious as to why Michael or you would be needed. Sam grimaced, and you could tell he already regretted bringing it up in front of Lucy. Sam could fight vampires, but he still couldn’t go see a R-rated movie.

“Well, you see, Mom…I need one of them to buy my ticket.” He started, eyes on his plate as he scraped his fork against it. You shot him a look, but he missed it. He was better off just dropping it while he was ahead, but he didn’t seem to realize that yet.

“You didn’t spend your allowance already, did you?” Lucy exclaimed, but Sam was quick to interrupt.

“No! No. It’s just,” He picked up his orange juice, visibly debating if he should even tell her the truth. It was like watching a car crash. Suddenly, you wished you could help the kid out. You shot a look at Michael, and this brother caught it. He frowned over his eggs.

Your plans were non-negotiable, his were not. He sighed.

“I’ll take you tomorrow. How ‘bout that, Sam?” Michael quickly interjected. There, everyone’s happy. You thought. But, when your eyes made the mistake of landing on Star, you knew that couldn't be true. Star gave you a hard look. It wasn't quite mean or mad, but it definitely wasn't happy. You knew this look. It was her, This is your fault look. And, you could only think, For what this time?

That wasn't the point. She can't go out? Your fault. She and Michael can't take the car? Your fault. A glass breaks, weather changes, water won't get hot. Somehow, always, your fault.

Frankly, you were getting tired of it, and maybe it was the morning, maybe it was weeks of a pain that never ended, or maybe it was just the fact that you were plain pissed off by it. Whatever the reason, your eyes flashed yellow behind your shades.

It was strange how you could feel it. Never before in your life could you change something about your body that was an actual bodily function, and you never imagined being able to feel it the more it happened. You were quick to rub your eyes with your hands, willing them to go away, willing the flood of thoughts about blood and violence away, willing the waves of anger to subside. But, the tides only rose, and you pushed yourself away from the table with a shriek of the chair. Nanooks whine accompanied your footsteps, and that got everyone's attention, if your abrupt exit of the table didn't.

“You okay, honey?” Lucy asked, and you didn't answer as you practically threw the refrigerator door open. You grabbed one of the blood bags from the covered slot where the butter used to be. It made you laugh the first time you saw it. You'd quipped, What? Grandpa gets a shelf and I don't? You couldn't think of what his reply had been as you ripped off the top.

You didn't like to drink in front of the Emerson's, but you weren't thinking about that right now.

You chugged it fast, and, in your head, you imagined some angle in the film. The horrifying sight of the family appearing through the quickly emptying bag of plastic. It was gone in, maybe, ten seconds. Your brain quickly rattled off the Frogs voices, About half a liter in each bag and there's only five in the human body. Ten of these, that's what those assholes drink. Those were the words in your mind as you reached for the next one, but you stopped yourself.

Relief. Peace. Calm. It was instant, and your movements weren't so fast this time. They slowed to almost human pace, and you felt like you could breathe again. The rage pulled back like a wave, leaving the shores of your mind for now. Your eyes faded back to normal.

You closed the fridge.

When you looked at the Emerson's, they were all staring at you. Time caught up with you, and you remembered that Lucy had asked you a question. Everything had happened so fast, and now you were the one dragging.

“Yeah, just thirsty.” You said, and you let out a burp by accident. Sam made a face of disgust, always being the most prudish, and Laddie laughed. The elder members of the family didn't seem to find things as funny. Michael frowned, and said,

“You got something..” His voice was soft, as he gestured to the corner of his own mouth. You were quick to wipe at yours, and, sure enough, you wiped red, sticky blood off your face. Shit. You thought, and you turned away while you got the rest. When you pulled your hand away, you noticed your nails were still long. Your claws. Shit. You hid your hands in your pockets when you turned back to them.

You gulped. Everyone was still staring at you, even if Lucy, Laddie, and Sam were politely trying to eat to make it look like they weren't. You walked back to the table, trying with all your might to be normal. To be human. But, you had blended your human and vampire side more and more with each passing day, and it seemed now it was getting to a point where you couldn't hide it from yourself any longer. Hell, you couldn't hide it from the Emerson's either. They saw it. They all saw it.

The silence was stretching on too long, and there was only one thing you could think to say to finally kill it.

“I'll take Sam and the Frogs.” You said, your hands gripping the back of your chair. Sam was the first to spark at those words, but your eyes went to Stars. It was a peace offering. Not that she knew for what. It was your own apology for imagining ripping her throat out and drinking her dry at the table. She stared, and, in Stars way, she accepted it. She silently turned back to her plate and drank her orange juice. Relief hit you again, but it was nothing close to the first wave. You interrupted Sam's instant ramble with, “It'll make me feel better if he's with me, and… he's right. I haven't made any progress with the coven.” You admitted the last part with a sigh. Taking the bullet from Grandpa over your failure or Sam telling his mom he wanted to see an R-Rated movie, which was worse?

He eyed you, silent for a moment. You both ignored Sam's cheers and him running away from the table to get ready. You couldn't hear his thoughts, but you could read his eyes. Failure to get information was failure to move things along, and Grandpa didn't want these vampires in his town. You didn't want those hunters here either, and neither party would leave until we found out what was going on. Sense told you to stick with your lead. The coven wouldn't drop a bomb on your lap and then leave you with it to switch to driving around town forever. But, if you dug into the back of your mind, into where memories of early summer… You felt something. A pull. Telling you the movies were exactly where you needed to be.

He chewed, clamping his lips together with a slap before he switched to his own mask. He cut into his eggs as he said,

“I suppose you'll be asking for my car, heh?"

[wikiangela]

when I say I love your mind (I wanna steal your heart)

huge thank you to @evansboyfriend and @beefcakekinard for alllll the help, you're the best <3

prompt: Halloween - couples costumes rated: G tags: fluff, established relationship word count: 1.8k

[also on ao3]

“So maybe vampires? Classic.” Buck suggests, hoping they’ll finally settle on something. But one look at Tommy’s face tells him it’s another no. 

“I don’t know. It’s kinda basic.” His boyfriend says, and, okay, Buck can see that. 

“Yeah, okay.” Buck hums, taking a second to come up with something else, as he and Tommy walk through the park, taking the long way to Tommy’s car. It’s a late evening, the moon illuminating their path, Tommy’s hand warm in his. They’re just finishing up date night, and at the end of their dinner the subject of Halloween was brought up – which is what they’ve been on for the last fifteen minutes. “So I guess ghosts or zombies or, I don’t know, clowns or pirates are also a no?”

“Uh, they might be a maybe?” Tommy shrugs, but clearly he’s not very into it. 

“What about superheroes? Ooh, you could be Superman. You kinda look like him anyway.” He says, bringing their clasped hands to kiss Tommy’s knuckles. “My own personal hero.” He whispers, and Tommy laughs. Buck’s sure if it wasn’t dark, he’d see a faint blush in his cheeks.

“And what would that make you, Wonder Woman?” There’s a skeptical but amused tone in his voice. 

“Maybe.” He shrugs and Tommy doesn’t even need to say anything for Buck to know he’s not a fan. “Okay, so Batman and Robin.”

“Hm, that’s one to think about.” Tommy responds. Buck takes that as a win, but they could do something more fun.

“Luke and Leia.” He says just because maybe Star Wars will be something to agree on – though, on the other hand, that might just spiral into another disagreement they’ve had before about those movies in general, so maybe better to leave it alone. Buck loves Tommy so much, but his Star Wars opinions are… not good. He can look past that, though. No one can be perfect.

“They’re siblings. We’re not doing a sibling couples’ costume, Evan.” He says decisively, shaking his head. Bossy, for someone who can’t decide on a costume. Buck rolls his eyes, kinda fond but kinda annoyed.

“So Leia and Han Solo. Oh, or Han and Luke? To put a bit of a spin on it?”

“Uh-” Tommy makes a face – to his credit, he does try to hide it – and Buck sighs in frustration. He doesn’t even want to hear the reason for the no. He pauses, trying to think of something else, the silence always pleasant between them. Whether they talk for hours, or are silent together, in Tommy’s company every second is the most comfortable and enjoyable. Buck just feels like he can be fully himself, and lean into his silliest side. 

“We could be Venom and Eddie Brock.” He says, mostly joking, the image that popped into his head so ridiculous he laughs.

“Hm. And how would that work, exactly? One of us in regular clothes and the other in costume as Venom?”

“Yeah. You as Eddie, and I dressed in all black, on your back.” He gives Tommy a shit-eating grin when he glances at him disbelievingly. “You know, like when Venom pops out of Eddie’s back?”

“And, what, I’d carry you on my back the whole night?” He laughs, but Buck just nods. “Sweetheart, I’m strong, but I’m not that strong. Best I could do is a few minutes.” He sounds almost apologetic, and Buck needs to kiss him about it, so he presses a quick kiss to his lips, stopping them briefly.

“I know, I’m kidding.” He whispers, resuming walking. “Would be cool, though.”

“It would.” Tommy admits. Silence falls over them again, as the gears in Buck’s brain keep turning, going through every movie he can remember ever seeing, or any fun and cool couples they could realistically dress up as.

“Beauty and the Beast? I could do a yellow suit. And you can be my Beast.” Buck leans closer to Tommy, his chin brushing Tommy’s shoulder as they walk, almost at the car now. He whispers, “You already are.”

“That’s a leap from Venom.” A laugh escapes Tommy. “I don’t know. It’d be cute, but I thought you wanted scary.”

“True. We could make it scary.” He says, but then another idea pops into his head. “Oh, how about the Addams family? You know, to keep the spooky vibe.” Buck bumps his shoulder into Tommy’s.

“Well, I do love the Addams family.” Tommy nods. “Who exactly, though?”

“The best couple ever, of course. Morticia and Gomez.” He says, and watches Tommy’s face for his reaction. “And you hate it.” He sighs, and rolls his eyes, starting to get a tiny bit annoyed. It’s like the fiftieth costume he suggested, Tommy has to like something.

“No, I love it, really, but, you know, if we’re doing a couple, maybe it could be a gay couple instead?” Tommy suggests, pulling Buck a little closer to him. Well, that was the idea at first, before Buck spiraled where he is now, because someone kept shutting down his ideas. At least now he gets why some of those were a no from Tommy, because Buck thinks some were really fun.

“Yeah, sure. If we could agree on any.” He shoots Tommy a pointed look.

“Okay, any other ideas?” Tommy asks, a hint of fond amusement on his face. It’s not funny, though, they need to figure it out quickly, Halloween is right around the corner.

“Salt and pepper shakers.” He throws out. “Or ketchup and mustard.”

“Are you serious?” Tommy raises his eyebrow, giving him his signature ‘Evan’ look, version exasperated. Buck just shrugs, trying to hide a smile, the thought of his boyfriend having specific smiles and looks reserved for him making his heart swell.

“I’m running out of ideas, Tommy. Oh!” He exclaims, a new random idea popping into his head. “Tom and Jerry! Get it?” He grins, looks at his boyfriend expectantly, and sees a tired but very fond and amused smile. “Tom-my.” He drags out the first syllable, just to get his point across.

“Yeah, baby, I get it. You’re adorable, but no.” He says, and then chuckles when Buck pouts. 

“How about the emotions from Inside Out?” He grumbles, the movie popping into his head randomly – probably because he and Tommy watched it with Jee on their latest babysitting duty. They did a whole Pixar marathon. “You can be boredom.”

“Oh, really?” Tommy gives him one of his looks, and, damn, Buck almost melts under his gaze, even when he’s annoyed with him. He loves him so fucking much. “You calling me boring?” He tugs at Buck’s hand, stopping them and bringing him closer, so they’re face to face, his hands settling on Buck’s hips, Buck’s landing on his huge arms, now covered by a jacket. There’s an amused smirk on Tommy’s face. “I thought I was cool?”

“Nah, you’re not. You hide it well, but I know now that you’re just a huge dork. And very, very boring.” Buck teases, trying and failing to say it with a straight face, a smile breaking through. “And I love you anyway.”

“I love you, too, Evan.” Tommy says, his smile forming into that fond, loving ‘Evan’ smile that Buck can never resist kissing off. So he does. He kisses Tommy once, twice, the kisses soft and chaste, both smiling into each other’s lips. He’s about to go in for a third, intending on deepening it, but Tommy pulls away, face a bit more serious. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Buck frowns, not wanting or needing any apologies, genuinely wondering if he missed anything.

“For being such a pain about this whole costume thing.” Tommy explains, and Buck wants to laugh. Yeah, okay, he was a little annoyed, but it’s just a little teasing, bickering, about Halloween costumes of all things. He can take the most ridiculous things seriously, but this? Nothing to get overly upset about. He’s about to say all that, but then Tommy continues, “I don’t know, maybe Halloween is just not my thing. I’ve never really been too into it.” He shrugs, a flicker of something wistful crossing his face, but it’s gone too quickly to decipher. “But it matters to you, and I love you, and I want you to be happy. So, I’m done being a party pooper, let’s do a costume. Next idea, no complaints, I promise. Whatever you want.” He says so sincerely, but there’s a hint of a ‘I hope I’m not gonna regret this’ in his eyes. Buck grins, a random, brand new idea showing up.

“Woody and Buzz? From Toy Story.” he clarifies, as if that wasn’t obvious – and clearly it was, from the look he gets. “What? You said gay couple.”

“I don’t think they were. And I thought you wanted scary- but fine, okay.” Tommy sighs, that fond look back on his face. “I said whatever you want. You wanna be the cowboy or the astronaut?”

“Hm.” Buck takes a second to think – and realizes that, actually, there’s an even better, easier idea. “Or we could just be cowboys.” He shrugs, and then he can feel his eyes go wide as the full picture pops into place. 

“Zombie cowboys.” He says, at the same time as Tommy, though Tommy’s sounds more like a question.

“You know me so well.” Buck beams, leaning in for another kiss. “Let’s be scary cowboy zombies. See, was that so hard?”

“You’re the one with a thousand ideas for a second. I didn’t even say no to everything at first, you just went through so many it was hard to keep up. I’m pretty sure you said cowboy back at the restaurant, too, and I didn’t even get a chance to say anything.” Tommy points out, pulling away from Buck, grabbing his hand again and starting to walk, his truck already visible in the distance.

“Not my fault my brain works like that.” Buck says mock-defensively. 

“I know, honey, I love your wonderful brain.” Tommy smiles, lets go of Buck’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist, presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “And I love you, my silly zombie cowboy.”

“Halloween is gonna be so much fun.” Buck is smiling widely, excited like a kid for his first Christmas – or, his first Halloween, more like. It’s seemingly no big deal, but also it’s his first Halloween with Tommy, and he’s excited – he’s excited for all the firsts with Tommy. He can’t wait to do everything and anything with him. “Are you gonna come by the station?”

“Of course, if I can. Gotta see how scary you’re gonna make it.”

“Wanna bet I can scare you?” He asks, just as they near the car.

“In the haunted house for children?” Tommy raises his eyebrows. “Sure, you can try. What are we betting on?”

“I have a few ideas.” Buck grins wickedly, crowding Tommy against the car.

“Oh, really? Well, I’m all ears.” Tommy grins, his arms wrapping around Buck’s neck, pulling him closer. Buck smiles into Tommy’s lips, kissing him, quick but lingering.

“Well, why don’t we go home and I can show you what I have in mind?”

[read on ao3]

[elffhuntr456]

The DC x DP Justice League problem

I've noticed a pattern when it comes to DC x DP crossovers where when the Justice League has to deal with anything involving the Danny phantom world They are out matched and outclassed in every way.

I know most people in the DC x DP fandoms haven't ever picked up a comic, or watched DC media that wasn't animated (or sometimes haven't even watched Danny phantom) in their lives but at some point it gets ridiculous how incompetent the regular JL is made when it comes to combating the supernatural. 

And as an all-things DC enjoyer this hurts me.

Like Superman, multiple times in the past has gone up against ghosts, ghosts like beings, and ghostly Abilities using his powers like for example:

Superman was able to freeze Ghost Soldier, who could turn intangible, using his freeze breath.

He could Freeze Zatanna's astral form

He was able to decimate the Phantom Stranger's physical AND metaphysical form.

He used his freeze breath to freeze the essence/spirit of H'el in time.

When the Fortress Of Solitude's security program projections were turned into ghosts, he could still blast them with his heat vision.

He withstood being stabbed through his heart and soul with magic a sword.

He tanked silver banshees scream (which affects the spirit) head on.

His super vision can also look past someone's body and mind to examine their soul.

When it comes to Wonder Woman her shield, blade, braces, lasso, tiara, and entire body are all blessed with the power of the literal gods there is no way she wouldn't be able to go straight up to a ghost and punch it intangibility or not.

Her lasso can even drag a soul out of someone's body if needed.

Same goes for Captain Marvel and his lightning.

All of Hawkman and Hawkwoman's armor (the little of it they actually wear) and weapons are made out of nth metal, which is a metal in DC that affects supernatural beings like ghost, zombies, vampire, Spirits, specters, shade's, werewolves, "the Lazarus demon" and reanimated corpses, just like any other creature no matter how strong.

Batman and Green Arrow have an entire arsenal made out of the stuff too, just in case.

In injustice both Green Arrow and Green Lantern have whole suits made out of it.

And even if you don't count injustice, (which is understandable) Green lanterns can easily have their rings copy the atomic structure of any thing they need (like kryptonite for example) and since their suits are made from their rings, they would still have no problem making a suit (or really any weapon they need out of the stuff).

Batman has a pair of gloves that John Constantine gave him specifically used to fight ghosts.

And it's been stated that the Batcave has supernatural barriers and wards to stop ghosts and stuff from getting in. (so no just casual walking into the bat cave).

And when it comes to the whole "ghost king summoning" thing I get it it's a fun concept to play around with, but the JL and JL Dark have so many other options other than to summon what they usually believe to be an interdimensional eldritch being into their world.

like the phantom zone projector something that was able to work on Mister Mxyzptlk a full-blown reality warper from the 5th dimension.

Or contacting the other supernatural experts that aren't just Constantine and Zatanna (which are usually the only contact for supernatural problems the JL has in most fic's for some reason).

Or batman just contacting the strongest supernatural being he knows, who without a doubt would come stop a major supernatural threat (as its usually depicted)

SPAWN. (The guys so op in supernatural power it's crazy)

There are so many other options than summoning the ghost king.

And in a lot of fic's the supernatural members (or just any member that would could help in a given situation) are off world (for some reason?) so they can't be contacted.

That just doesn't make much sense when the JL has the technology of so many advanced civilizations and individual people (witch some are said to be among the smartest in the universe) at their disposal, they should be able to contact their people halfway across the universe.

All of this is to say that due to widespread ignorance of the world of Detective Comics and the capabilities of its hero's (and sometimes Danny Phantom) that most DC x DP situations, stories, and scenarios end up with the Justice League a collection of the earths greatest hero's, being completely and utterly helpless and incompetent against any problems coming from the world of Danny Phantom (or just the supernatural in general).

This is to no one's fault of course, believe me no one knows all of DC lore and all it's details in its entirety.

But being someone that knows a lot about DC and seeing how useless a lot of DC characters are portrayed in most situations when you know they really wouldn't be having that much of an issue handling it, creates a weird disconnect between the two fandoms where it always seems more like the Danny Phantom fandom with DC characters stapled to it.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 31: Trick or Treat

Last one! Took a little extra time but we finally made it! Hope you enjoy, this is a fun little something something for the Confused Spirit fans in the audience

Additionally, if you have not read Confused Spirit, many of these characters will have no value to you I'm guessing, so, sorry about that. There's also some slight, implied spoilers for the fic as well. That being said, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 6392

Content warning: mentions of blood, injury, and death, reader descretion is advised

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

It's Halloween at the Plex, and you're, well you're not sure how to feel about it. You had to work, meaning your sister and brother are currently out trick or treating with Clara instead of you, which is a bit frustrating. Not to mention, you'd gotten all dressed up and had nowhere to go until you got off in an hour or so. 

You think a mandated Halloween party, on top of having to work on a project, wasn't a great combination, but with the glare Sarah had sent in the meeting last week to you and the other division heads, you didn't have much a choice. Have to set a good example and all that. 

At the very least, you weren't the only one dressed up, so you didn't look as ridiculous sitting hunched over a desk covered in green paint and fake stitches.

Your team all had various costumes on, differing in degrees of effort and style. Pete went classic vampire, Jesse was a mummy, and Tyler was a zombie. Liv was rocking a great Mia Wallace costume, and Savannah had on a witch hat but really went for it with her makeup look. 

Currently, as both a way to kill time and to potentially fix the problem you'd been having, you were all trying your best to fix the issues going on with Fazerblast.

Specifically, something had been messing with both the electric and the mechanical components of the entire attraction. While Lizzy and their team worked to determine what had been causing the random power outages, your goal was attempting to fix the malfunctioning laser guns and rogue staff bots. 

You'd tried to tell both Sarah and Rachel that the place really needed shut down for a few days to actually work on it, but no luck. Seems they wanted it open for Halloween, regardless of how bad an idea you thought that was. 

When your code crashes again you groan, tempted to run a hand across your face before you remember the paint.

"Frankenstein's monster was a good choice for you. You really sell it," Pete quips, sipping on a blood red slushy in one hand, still typing with the other.

You turn to him, eyes narrow, "Remind me why I'm helping you with coding again? When I could be doing literally anything else?"

"Gives him an ego boost," Jesse answers from across the room, "No offense."

You scoff, turning to the coworker across from you, "Figured as much. Savannah, any word from the company that sold us the trigger pins?"

"Not yet," She sighs, puffing out her cheeks, "But I keep checking the reviews and nobody else has had the same issues we've had here. They shouldn't be freaking out like this."

"Figured that much, too. Liv?"

She looks up and over to you, tired, dead stare on her face as she holds up the phone, "Still on hold. I'm guessing corporate left early for the day and couldn't be bothered to let everyone know."

You grimace, and check the time. It's after six now, the party starts at 6:30. That's more than enough for you at this point.

"Right. You know what, we're done here. Pack it up, we can grab food before the party because I know Sarah's going to be stingy about it."

With muted, half-defeated cheer, your team closes out of their computers and shuffles to the door. Besides Tyler, he's in a great mood still, but you expected as much. 

As you're grabbing your jacket and turning out the lights, you swear you see something out of the corner of your eye by your computer. Something purple. When you turn, you find that your computer is on again, login screen staring at you. 

"You coming?" Savannah calls from halfway down the hall.

You turn to yell back, "Yeah, give me a sec, just hold the elevator."

Slowly, you walk back over to your computer, giving it a once over. It looks fine, just turned on. You take hold of the mouse, and hover it over the shut off button again. As you click it, the screen freaks out, glitching before turning black. At the same time, a shock goes up your arm and you yelp, purple flashing across your vision. 

Dazed, you shake your head, and clutching your arm, make your way out of the office and to the elevator. 

You shuffle in, and as the doors close Jesse leans over and mutters to you above the chattering of your team.

"You alright?"

You nod, "Yeah, just, a little tired I guess." Your head feels funny, but otherwise you're fine. You think.

"What'd you do to your hand?" He asks, looking to how you're still holding it.

You let it go, shaking it off and letting it fall to your side, "Stoved it on my way out. I'll live."

He nods and you continue your ascent. But you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Your arm twitches and at the same time your vision becomes glazed over in a purple hue. You shake your head, and it's gone again. 

The upper levels are filled with activity. Kids rush from place to place, already tired parents in tow. The words 'trick or treat!' are echoed everywhere as children go from the different tables and booths set up for the holiday. 

If Lisa knew this was going on she'd have a fit that she was out going house to house instead of being here. But asking Clara to watch her in this chaos would have been cruel, and so, the less your sister knew, the better. Besides, Gabe deserved an authentic trick or treating experience as opposed to getting themed-corporate garbage in his candy bucket. For one of his first times at least.

As you pass by the Daycare, seeing many children playing in costumes and such, you see the doors are propped open, and Sun is handing out candy to a long line of trick or treaters.  

"Damn Pete, the Daycare Attendant really outshone you huh?" Savannah elbows him and nods to the animatronic's costume. 

Sun is also a vampire, with a large black cloak, and white shirt. His pants are somehow all black, and the change of shoes is also a surprise. Two lines of red streak down from his smile, which is still as friendly as ever otherwise.

Pete huffs, "It's literally the same costume, besides he doesn't even have fangs!"

You all start walking again, laughing. 

"True, but he wore it better, even without fangs."

The comment causes Pete to start arguing with the speaker, which to the surprise of no one at all, was Jesse.

You keep your gaze on Sun a few moments more, head feeling a bit clearer for just a moment. He glances up suddenly, and waves to you, head tilting just slightly. Surprised, you also wave.

There's a buzz in your pocket. As you start to walk away again you check it. 

'Your costume is nice.'

You wait for another message, you don't get one.

'Thanks???' You're confused. 

'Something wrong?'

'I just would have expected you to say something snarky at this point. Genuine compliments aren't your style'

You narrowly dodge an eager trick or treater running by you, nodding at their parent as they apologize. 

'It's Halloween. I'm in a good mood, don't sour it for me'

You scoff, 'There it is. I don't plan to, though it's tempting to have Clara swing by with the kids just for the fun of it'

From there, your normal bickering comes forth, and you continue it both as you head to the party and while at it. It's a bit busier than you expected, more employees than you expected are there mingling about the dancefloor.

The entire west arcade, like the rest of the Plex, is done up with decorations that set the mood. There's even a fog machine, adding to the spooky but cheerful atmosphere.

You still feel pretty funny though, and thus take the time to go 'cool off' out in the hall for a bit. 

It grows worse and you have to lean back against the wall. Head throbbing as you try to drink more punch in the hopes that will solve it. Your vision flashes again, purple, and suddenly you're not in the same location anymore. 

It's dark, and you're standing over someone. You can't see their face, it's covered with static. They're crying, hands up in surrender. You feel yourself chuckle, but it's not your voice, your tone is off. It's gravely. Not your own. 

Suddenly, out of your control, your hand, which is not your hand but some, clawed, thing, comes down and-

Your vision goes red and you clutch your head in pain. Gasping, you find yourself back in the hallway, back in your body. Back to normal. 

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You don't know what that was. You don't want to find out, either. 

"Not enjoying the party, Andromeda?"

You look up, standing above you is Moon. He's also dressed up for this, wearing a witch costume that has more aspects of his usual wear to it than Sun's did. His color scheme is purple with bits of orange, and his usual hat is replaced by a large witch hat. 

You relax, the pain is gone, for now, "Trying to. I've not been feeling so hot, honestly."

"What's wrong?" He sits down across from you, cross-legged.

You shake your head, "I don't know. My head has just been, feeling funny. And hurts. A lot, really. Been blocking it out I guess."

"How unfortunate. Perhaps I could be of help?"

You shrug, "You can try, but don't feel like you have to, either."

Moon holds out his hand to you, and you set your palm on top of his. He intwines your fingers, which makes your face heat up, but you think with all the paint on your face it's impossible to tell. You look up to him, waiting. 

"Close your eyes, and take a deep breath," He urges.

You do. The pain has subsided some, though not by much.

"Breathe in," Pause, "Breathe out."

You follow his instructions, each breath helping to soothe you bit by bit. 

You realize however, that even with your eyes closed, there's a purplish tint to the blackness behind your eyes. You frown, and notice that it grows when you breath in, and subsides as you breathe out.

Moon's grip tightens on yours, but keeps speaking. 

"In," His tone shifts, growing hoarser, sinister? "Out..."

Alarm spikes in your stomach, but yet, your mind stays calm, almost like its-

You open your eyes, smiling softly, "I think I'm good now. Thanks, Moon-man."

He nods. 

Then, something occurs to you.

"Wait a minute, shouldn't you be passing out candy to the kids-" You blink, and you're alone in the fully lit hallway. 

You rub your eyes, had the lights been on that entire time? You knew that sometimes the two AI could avoid a switch if the light level wasn't fully one way or the other. But this was different. 

You don't get to dwell on it, as a scream erupts from inside the west arcade, several others following. Alarmed, you sit up, ignoring the pain in your skull that's back with a vengeance and rush inside. 

You find a crowd has gathered around the center of the dancefloor. The music's been cut, and people are muttering with horrified looks at whatever’s in the middle of the group.

As you move past people who are covering their mouths or eyes, some are crying, some are shaking their heads in disbelief. You find your team among them.

"What's going on?" You ask after shoving past another person. 

Savannah shakes her head, and Liv cowers further into Tyler's arms. You've never seen him so grim. 

You realize two of them are missing, your fear grows, "...Where's Jesse and Pete?"

Tyler nods to the center of the crowd, and you quickly take the few further steps to burst out into the opening, finding your fears confirmed plainly. 

Pete sits on the ground, crying as he cradles a body wrapped in white cloth stained red. You have to flick your eyes away from it for a moment, the sight being beyond shocking.

Swallowing and keeping your eyes to the ground, you slowly approach Pete and sit down. Briefly, you find your eyes meeting your, Christ, your dead friend's. His eyes are wide, mouth open in pure horror.

You turn back to the man beside you, setting your hand on his shoulder as he jumps, "What happened?"

"The, the lights cut, just, he just," He can't seem to look away, he's shaking, "I don't, I don't know how this would've, who could've, do-done this..."

You put your other hand on his other shoulder, forcing him to turn and look to you, "Pete. Breathe. Just breathe. Okay?"

He nods slowly, and you turn to behind the crowd behind you, "Please tell me somebody's called the cops?"

"No signal, trying to get ahold of Derrick in the office, but haven't had any luck," You realize that it's Bri who's answering you, looking rather grim in her black cat costume. 

You nod, "Right. Who's got basic medical training? I think he's gone into shock."

Someone steps forward, and starts tending to Pete. Someone else comes forward and lays a sheet over Jesse's body. A ghost costume you realize, how ironically morbid.

You stand, and-unfortunately being the person with the most experience in this scenario-try your best to take charge and calm things down. You also feel some level of responsibility, given that all the other Division Heads seem to be missing now.

Working with Bri, you send a group to the security office to see if they can't notify the police of what's happened. Additionally, you try to lock down the area to keep this from getting beyond the walls of this room and causing mass panic. Not to mention, you have no idea who did this, meaning they're still among you as far as you're aware. 

It's all going as smooth as it can be until Bri and the other guards’ radios erupt with screaming. Causing you to pause in your discussion with Savannah. 

You can barely make out what they're saying, only catching snippets here and there.

"-Something in the office!"

"Everybody's dead, oh god, they're all-"

"Help! Please! Anybody!"

To make matters worse, the lights cut again, sending the growing paranoia among the crowd into a full blown hysteric mob. You can't make out a thing in the dark, and when your head starts aching again, purple blinding you, you know you're a goner for the time being. 

Another vison comes to you, this time, the room is dimly lit, and you can tell this is a closet of some kind.

Again, you tower over a cowering figure who you realize is, David? What in the world is he doing here? What is happening?

"I don't know what they see in you, if anything at all," A voice that's not your own, yet comes from you, says. It's familiar but yet you can't-

David's sentence is shaky, "Look, I don't know what you want but I don't want any trouble. Okay?"

"Trouble? Friend, you're in a lot more than just trouble," There's something heavy in your hands, it glints in the light, "I'll tell you what though, if you hold still you'll be saving me a lot!"

Axe, it's an axe and it's swinging, down, down, down-

"Hey, it's alright. You're alright," Bri's shaking you, hand on your shoulder. 

You take a deep breath, realizing you're on your knees in a room lit by a red emergency light and some flashlights. Glancing around, you see all your friends, including Abby and even Jacob are here with you. There's a few others who you're guessing are other security guards based on how they stand near the door, on edge. 

You look back to Bri, "How'd I get here?"

Bri juts her thumb, "Tyler found you half out of it on the ground and grabbed you. Somehow carried Liv here too."

"I'm stronger than I look," He flexes with a nod. 

You manage to crack a weak smile, clutching your head as more pain shoots through it, "What happened? Where are we?"

"Security office by Fazerblast," Bri answers, glancing over at the covered window in the door, which you realize has been barricaded, "Furthest we could get safely with this many people."

"What do you mean by safely?"

She opens her mouth, but Pete speaks up, "The bots have gone awol." You turn to see he's on the ground, leaning up against the wall, blood dripping down the side of his head, face solemn, angry, "They're picking us off one by one. Anybody in sight is getting killed off. Doesn't help that we can't see a fuckin' thing and they can."

Your eyes widen, "What? …but, why? How?"

"Does it matter?" He asks, looking to you now, "We're dead meat if we try to leave, but we're sitting ducks here."

Bri scolds him, "We're not sitting ducks. This our best chance of getting out of here alive. If we can get power to the cameras, even better."

"Working on it," Liv says, something sparking as she speaks, "But I'm not an electrical engineer."

"Just give it up, Liv. There's no point," Pete scoffs, shaking his head.

He and Bri start arguing, Savannah trying to interject to keep the peace.

Someone sits down beside you, hand resting on your shoulder. 

It's Abby, her Glamrock makeup is smeared with dried tear streaks, "Hey."

"Hey," You sigh.

She bites her lip, "Are, are your siblings...?"

Your eyes widen and shake your head.

"God no. They're, they're safe. Out trick or treating with Clara," You put a hand to your face, relieved as you realize that fact, "Your brother?"

She sighs, "Also safe. With my parents. Not here. But," She stops, and you know exactly what she's thinking. 

You nod, turning away as you hear her sniffle. Your friends are still fighting, the guards by the door are getting antsy, another spark startles Liv and she looks ready to cry. You need to do something. 

Your vision turns purple but you shake it off immediately. Whatever this is, it can wait. You're going to make it.

Standing, and clutching your arm to keep it from twitching, you clear your throat, "We're not going to die here. Not on my watch. Bri, you and your guys here have any sort of weapon?"

"Tasers. And there should be a baton in here somewhere. Why, what are you thinking?"

You nod to the control panel for the cameras, "If there's anyone who can get those working in a blackout, it's Lizzy. And I know they were in Fazerblast before all this. Hell, it might've been their team that caused the outage."

"You want to go out there?" Pete asks, "Are you insane?"

You shrug, "Have to be at least a little bit to do this job. Someone give me a radio. We can at least double check before considering it."

Bri hands you her radio, and after a moment's hesitation, you set it to the engineers' channel and hold in on the button, "Lizzy, you still okay out there?"

Quiet. Your friends exchange a few bleak glances. 

You're about to try again when, "Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

Relief, you think Pete even cracks a small smile. 

"There's... a lot of shit going down in the Plex right now, how have you not heard about it?"

"Dude we've been stuck in Fazerblast for hours. Besides trying to fix the power the doors got jammed. I'm not leaving until this is done though, so we just kind of ignored it. Did think it was weird there was no parents complaining about not being able to use a half-functioning attraction though." Their tone is so casual you have no choice but to believe it. 

The information, however, is huge, "That's, actually the best case scenario for us right now. So listen up, we gotta do this right or we don't stand a chance."

After explaining the full situation to Lizzy and their team, you work with your friends to come up with a plan. A good one. Something tells you you're only going to get one shot at this. 

Meanwhile, you struggle to keep it together. You keep getting more and more flashes of that other perspective. Speaking in those voices that you can't quite place how you know. Increasingly, you start to recognize the locations they're in are getting more familiar to where you are currently. 

It's a no brainer to you then, that you're a part of the team that goes to retrieve Lizzy. You force Bri to stay in the office, along with one of the guards. If you don't make it back, you at least want some people to stay safe. 

You try and fail in vein to stop Pete and Abby from coming with you, Tyler picks you up again when you question him coming along. 

"We're better off in even groups," Pete argues, gripping the metal chair leg he stole tightly, "Makes our chances that much better."

You don't disagree, but you don't like it either, "Fine, you're right. Now put me down please, Ty."

"Can do boss," He sets you down. 

You're all armed as best you can. The guard, Joseph, has a taser, and Tyler has-apparently-pure brute force on his side. Pete has the chair leg, which is similar to the stun baton you're carrying.

Abby has brass knuckles. You don't know how she has those but you're not going to question it. Apparently, Utah state law doesn't have any clauses relating to them, now you know.

You move quickly and silently through open darkness to get to the staff entrance to Fazerblast, which is thankfully only a short distance away. You all stay close, not saying a word as you navigate. 

There's not a soul around, human or machine. You don't know if it you puts you more on edge or not. 

When you get to the door, Pete's able to get it open quickly, and you all file inside, locking it again soon thereafter. 

The light inside the attraction is blinding in comparison to the darkness outside, the music and sound effects playing as if everything is entirely normal. It's almost more eerie in that regard. 

You find Lizzy and their crew sitting around one of the towers, the reunion is brief, but happy. It's agreed that the senior engineer will come with your group, and the parts and service crew will stay for safety reasons. You're about to depart again, when the radio starts going crazy. 

"We've got issues here!" Bri shouts down the line, "Don't come back, it's not safe!"

Static blares from the device, followed by banging, shouting, crying, and then a loud crash. The silence that follows is deafening. 

"Fuck. No, no, no," You bang on the side of the radio, "Come on, Bri! Savannah! Anyone!?"

No answer. 

"Dammit!" You toss the radio to the side, hands coming up to grip the sides of your head, "Dammit, dammit, dammit."

A hand on your shoulder, Abby again, "There's nothing we can do right now. We're going to have to refocus. Plan. Hope that they'll be okay-"

There's a banging at the front entrance to Fazerblast. Everyone freezes. 

You think quickly as the sound grows in volume, "Lizzy, how in control of the power are you currently?"

They dig through their bag, and toss you a makeshift remote, "It's what we've been using to test."

The pounding gets louder, and the shutter creaks. 

"Everybody who isn't armed find a place to hide. The rest of you are with me. We're gonna flip the tables on them."

Everyone scatters, and you make your way to the doors. You have no idea what's on the other side of that metal shutter, but you're going to find out one way or another. You'd rather it be on your terms. 

"Can you get it open?" You ask Pete, hitting the lights and leaving only a flashlight to see.

He nods, "You're sure about this?"

"As I'll ever be. Abby, Joe, Ty, go hide nearby. We'll assess the biggest threat and go from there."

They all nod, and head off into the darkness.

Pete gets the panel open, taking a deep breath, "I hope you're right."

You press your back against the wall beside the panel, almost accustom to the feeling of your vision switching to purple. That other perspective is right outside now. You see Freddy is the one banging on the door, along with several map bots. You squeeze your eyes shut and you're back in your body again.

"Me too."

There's a beep, and the shutter slowly starts to raise. Quickly, you grab Pete and shove him on the other side of you, using your arm to press him up against the wall beside you. 

As bots start pouring in, you lean your head back against the wall, holding your breath. 

You watch as they fan out, scouring for anyone that they think is in here. They don't see you. You relax slightly.

You turn to Pete and nod, guarding him as he moves and shuts the door again, it quietly sinks back to the ground, locking you in here for the time being. 

Moving across the wall, you regroup with the others. 

"I counted six staff bots, and Freddy," Abby whispers. The other three agree. 

Pete keeps lookout on your corner, "The music still playing helps us a little, but not a lot. We stick together, and go one by one, saving Freddy for last."

You frown, "Freddy's not last."

"What do you mean? Of course he is, he's going to be the hardest to take down."

You shake your head, "You miscounted. There's one more animatronic that made it in."

"Who?"

Off in the distance, you hear it, the jingle of bells. There's a flash of red as he lands on one of the walls, far off from you but within your line of sight. 

You shake away the purple again, knowing it's going to show you what he's seeing at that moment, "Moon."

You fare better than you expected. A bunch of humans versus machines. You manage to take down three of the staffs bots in the dark, and by screwing with the lights a few times, manage to disorient the Daycare Attendant enough to keep them from discovering your location. 

However, one of the parts n services guys gets found out, and his terrified screams as your claws rip him apart send, something, down your spine.

You know something's wrong with you now. You're taking far too much joy in beating in the metal skull of the staff bot below you. Oil splattering your clothes and face. You feel manic, alive. Out of control. 

You shake your head, stopping. You ignore the glances being sent your way, you have to make it through this. 

With this one you realize there's only one more staff bot left, then it's just Freddy and the Daycare Attendant. You flick the lights off again, huddling together with the others. 

"If we go for one, the other is going to know. Our best bet is to divide and conquer," Pete says. 

You nod, "One person with an electric weapon per team, one with something heavy. Tyler, you go with the group at the disadvantage to even it out."

Your teams end up being Joseph, Abby, and Tyler together to take on Freddy, leaving you and Pete to deal with Moon. 

You trudge through the darkness, silence between the two of you. 

There's been a voice in your head for a bit now. You block out whatever it says. Your grip feels shaky on the baton, and you can tell Pete's on edge more because of you than the looming threat somewhere out in the dark.

Keep it together. You just have to keep it together.

"Hello, Diana."

You turn, he pulls you up into the air, away from Pete. You don't even think to scream, instead only able to watch terrified as the ground and your friend get further and further away. 

Moon settles on one of the towers to set you down again, and you scramble back and fall onto the ground, looking up at him with fear. 

His faceplate twists, observing you. Then, his eyes narrow cheekily and he chuckles lowly. 

"What's the matter, Bright Eyes? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You bit your lip as it trembles, raising the baton as a threat, "W-with how this night is going it's, certainly a possibility."

"But that's not my costume now, is it?" He takes a step closer. 

You hold firm with the baton, hitting the button for the taser part to go off, "Moon-man, I don't want to hurt you. Don't make me."

The spark seems to deter him, growling.

"Why are you doing this? What did any of these people do to you?" You ask, beg in your words, "Killing innocent people? That's not you."

Moon snickers, and despite your waving of the baton, he moves closer, clawed finger resting on the end of it. He presses it down as he crouches to your level. 

You now sit eye to eye with him as he speaks, "Andromeda, would you like to know a secret?"

Your grip tightens on your weapon, head shaking once. That doesn't deter him. 

He leans in closer, his smile hovering just above your lips. 

"This is the best Halloween I've ever had," Then, he kisses you. You're so surprised that you don't feel the baton be taken from your hand until it's gone. 

He pulls away, chuckling again.

A loud bang suddenly resonates in the space, and the Naptime Attendant starts to twitch and collapse on the ground in front of you.

Pete stands over you both, breathing heavy as he clutches the chair leg in both hands. 

"Sorry, had to take the stairs."

Moon snarls and flips around, hand raising ready to slash across the man's chest. 

Panicked, you hit the button for the lights. 

But it's too late. 

As Sun's rays pop out, one by one, Pete can only stand there, blood slowly starting to soak through his shirt. He coughs, then takes a step forward, then another, stumbling past you into the wall. You quickly flip around as he collapses back against it, breathing ragged. 

"Well, at least now you look authentic," You turn back to see Sun standing hunched over, clutching his faceplate, "Though, it's still not quite as good as mine."

As he straightens, you have to suppress a gasp as it's revealed that one of his optics has shattered from the previous impact. 

His rays twitch and his focus snaps to you as you stand. 

His faceplate clicks to the side, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Sunshine."

"Sun." You can't reach for your baton without it being obvious. 

"Are you having a good Halloween? I know I am." He tsks, "A pity about your costume, though I suppose the grit and grime really sells it."

You take a deep breath, running the back of your hand under your nose to wipe away the blood that's dripping. Your vison flashes purple, and for a moment you find you’re staring down at yourself. 

You're a mess. Hair all over the place, clothes torn. There's streaks in the paint covering your skin. There's still blood coming out your nose a little bit.

And your eyes are bright purple.

You come back to and watch Sun's eyes narrow.

You shift slightly, hand twitching.

You see there’s a slight shadow over Sun’s eyes. And in his good optic a small white pupil flicks to your hand. You swallow.

 "Don't do something you'll regret, Icarus."

You stamp your foot down onto the baton, it pops up into your hand and you click to turn it on.

You jut your chin out, tilting your head slightly, "Come on, Sun. You know me better than that."

You rush forward, he steps back, dodging and spinning to face you as you charge again. It's almost like a dance of danger. And it truly becomes one when Sun takes one of your hands and spins you around, dipping you low and back up as you try and fail again to use the baton on him. 

You let out a noise of frustration. Charging forward again, the two of you go round and round. Narrowly you miss him every time. Narrowly he dodges every swing. He’s fast. Faster than you’d have ever anticipated, than he’d ever let on about. You never realized how close to death you may have been all this time.

After another miss, this one the closet you’ve gotten yet, Sun puts an end to your game. He grabs hold of the baton, only flinching as you turn it on, and rips it from your grip, tossing it aside. He spins you into his arms and holds tight. 

You fight against him in vain. 

"You know, Bright Eyes. I would have thought you'd appreciate your treat a bit more than this," He snarls the words, "But maybe you've been too busy resisting it to do so."

You slow your struggling, and Sun releases you finally. The words having done the job far better than his hold to sedate you.

You turn to face him cautiously.

"You, you did this?" You ask, "You did this to me?"

Sun tuts, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, "Well, technically you did it to yourself, Bright Eyes. But I'm happy you did. Makes all of this much, much easier."

It suddenly hits you that he's right. Maybe not intentionally, or fully knowing, but you made the choice to go back to the computer. You chose to try and turn it off again. You could have left the office, it would've shut down eventually. Something had compelled you to come closer and investigate, and you had made the choice to listen. 

And now you were suffering from the cost.

"Now, let's finish this up, hm?" Sun bends and kisses you, pulling away after a moment, "You wouldn't want to disappoint now, would you?"

You don't answer. Your feet move on their own as they turn to face Pete, who seems to realize what's happening before you do. 

He clutches the wound on his stomach tighter, breathing quickening, "Come on, snap out of it! This isn't you! You know it's not."

"Quiet over there, you'll get your chance to speak in just a moment," There's something set down in your hands, you know what it is, "Don't worry, I'll help you. No need for tears."

You find that you are crying, but can't do a thing to stop it. Your body is not your own, your emotions are not your own. You are entirely out of control as Sun guides you to march staggeredly towards Pete.

Off in the distance you hear shouting as your remaining friends try in vain to take down Freddy. Not that it mattered. Even if they did, you'd be finishing the job.

Your breathing is heavy but controlled, grip on the axe tight, all you can do is stare down at Pete, who looks up at you horrified, eyes wide. You think the look matches the fear in your own gaze.

Sun's hands are on your shoulders, voice a purr in your ear, "Go on, Starlight. You know what you need to do."

The axe raises jerkily, fighting against it and losing. Your eyes snap shut, and it comes down. Again, and again, and again.

You block out everything, all noise, all touches. You block out the sound of sickening crunches and squelches, of Pete's heavy gasps, of Sun murmuring encouragement right beside you all the while. 

You block out the wood rough against the skin of your hands, the blood, sweat, and tears, running down your face. Sun's hands wrapped around your waist, head resting on your shoulder. 

You suddenly regain control and your eyes shoot open, throwing the axe away from you and stumbling back into Sun's arms. Your hands come up to your face as you sob, shaking your head. 

He just holds you as you cry, muttering things you can't comprehend as he presses kisses to your hair. 

When you finally subside to sniffles is when he pulls back to press a kiss to your lips.

"There, there, you're alright, Bright Eyes. Come on now," He lifts you to your feet, arms pulling you closer as he leans in for another kiss, "I'll let you pick who's next, how's that?" 

You shoot up from your bed, heart racing. You clutch your chest, breathing hard. 

You're at home. Sitting on your bed. You're fine. Everything's fine.

There's a yawn to your left that interrupts your thoughts. 

It's Gabe, laying on the bed beside you in his pumpkin costume. He yawns again, and stares curiously up at you, fist in his mouth. You pat his head with a sigh.

Right, you were going to put him down for a nap before heading out to trick or treat, then go to the Plex for the same thing. Looks like you ended up taking a nap too. 

You check the time, it's almost five. Suddenly, a thought hits you square in the face.

"Did I kiss Sun?" You say aloud. 

You do your best to recall the fading nightmare.

Oh god, you did. Right on his stupid flat face. Multiple times. You kissed Moon to but you're less opposed to that albeit confused-but Sun?

Involuntarily you gag, now feeling the sudden urge to rinse out your mouth, even if it had just been to his faceplate, much less a dream. 

Shaking your head, you turn to look down at your brother, who's now somehow managed to get his foot in his mouth, despite his costume. 

"Gabe, never down a bag of sour gummies and immediately take a nap, it'll give you crazy dreams."

You think you might leave the trick or treating to the kids tonight.

Something tells you that it’s for the best.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Oof, what a doozy huh? Imagine being the final girl AND the killer... crazy. Good thing it was all just a dream. Here's the promptober list and the spookvember schedule. Thanks for reading as always-

Oh?

What's this?

Looks like there's a link down here.

How'd that get there?

...

Hm.

You should click it. See what happens.

CLICK ME

btw the song playing while writing the fight scene was I Go Crazy - Orla Gartland and it was a VIBE and a half let me tell you-

[sunshine7queen]

The Halloween Party

Synopsis: Halloween has arrived where everybody can dress up as their favorite creature and characters. And today you struggled on thinking what costume to wear this year. With the help of your friends, you finally thought of one that will knock everyone out: to dress as the King of Curses himself. What will his reaction would be?

Pairing: Yuji/Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warnings: 18+, full nelson, smut, breeding kink, Sukuna calls her Mistress, rough sex, reader being a dom queen, creampie, soft Sukuna in the end, a bonus ending included!

A/N: Hello everyone! This is the first time I've posted something like fanfic related but this idea has been stuck to my head in the holiday has started. I hope you all enjoy this ^v^ Also, sorry if the smut's not too perfect, it's been a while.

Today was Halloween, the one year where everyone celebrates the spooky holiday by dressing up in costumes and giving out candy.

Speaking of costumes, you were having trouble thinking what to dress as. And the reason is that because Gojo decided to plan out a Halloween party at Jujutsu Tech and of course, he even added a contest for the best Halloween costume.

Every year, you always come up with the scariest costumes that blow everyone away and even scare them too. So right now, you’re hanging out with Nobara and Maki at the mall in the search for costumes. Perhaps this will help you out for inspiration for your costume.

“Any luck?” Nobara asks you, wondering if anything sparks an idea in your head.

You looked around at the outfits, masks, and wigs but nothing catches your attention. You shake your head, “Nope.”

“Well, there has to be something for you.”

Maki then decides to pitch in to help you, “Have you ever thought about dressing as a vampire?”  

“I’ve already done that last year, don’t get me wrong, I love my vampire costume but I want to do something different.”

“Okay then, how about a witch?”

“No, I’ve done that too. And also, that’s what Nobara is dressing for the party.”

“It’s okay girl! We can both match but it’s your decision and I respect that.”

“Thanks Nobara.” You sigh; thinking what to dress as is making you feel exhausted and your friends took notice of this.

“Hey how about we take a break?” Maki suggests, “Let’s get something to eat and we can go look again before the party starts.”

“Sure. We can use a break, my head’s wiped out.” You laugh as they join in as you three make your way to the food court.

Taking a break was a good idea after all as you sip your favorite beverage. “Alright, we still have time but we can talk ideas here in the meantime.”

“Well,” You lean your head back, “I want my costume to be scary this year, something that will scare their pants off.”

Nobara hums as she thinks of an idea. “Something scary huh? I think it would have to be that’ll top off a werewolf, vampire, ghoul or zombie.”

“What could be frightening than them?” Maki asks.

She's got a point there; what could be more frighting and scarier than the classic monsters or legends?

It was at that moment when a smile crept on your face.

Nobara begins to chuckle, every time you make that look; an idea strikes in your head. “Oh! I recognize that look anywhere! What’s your big idea?”

You let out a dark chuckle through your lips, Nobara and Maki weren’t too sure if they should be scared or not by your behavior. Motioning your hands at them to lean closer, they scoot their seats next to you. “Listen, here. This is my idea…”

Whispering to them about your idea, the girls started to grin as you explain your costume idea. They have a feeling that this costume will definitely knock everyone’s socks out.

The three of you returned back to Jujutsu Tech, you told Nobara and Maki to get ready for their costumes so they can help you with yours. Five minutes later, Nobara and Maki came into your dorm. Nobara had on a cute witch outfit with a stuffed black cat in her right arm and holding a broom to her left. As for Maki, she’s a vampire with her hair down, slicking her front bangs back to make it more classic.

“Wow! You guys look amazing!” You gush over their costumes.

Nobara blushes at your compliment, “Aw thank you! Now, let’s get you ready for yours!”

“Let’s do it!” You cheered.

Hours later, it was finally finished. Nobara and Maki couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“So ladies, what do you think?” You curl your fingers, twirling them around your wig.

“Wow, I…” Nobara looks at you up and down. “I’m literally taken back right now. You look like a literal queen.”

“I usually don’t compliment that much, but you got my exception.” Maki smirks, showing her fake vampire fangs.

“Shall we get started?”

Meanwhile, outside of the courtyard, the entire place was decorated with lights in a form of pumpkins and ghosts, cutout paper of mini ghosts, a table filled with delicious food and sweet treats, and plenty of games to enjoy.

Everyone else is here, even the students of the Kyoto Sister school are here as well. Yuji is with his friend Megumi, along with Toge and Panda. Yuji decided to be Spiderman, he got his mask off right before the contest starts. Megumi didn’t want to dress up but was forced by Gojo who he eventually put him as a werewolf.

“I think you look great, Fushiguro!” Yuji gave him a thumbs up with a smile on his face.

Megumi’s brow twitches, he wasn’t enjoying this as much. “You know sensei had me wear this.” He crossed his arms.

“Yeah but, you gotta get into the spirit for this party. They’re already in the vibe of it.” He points at Toge and Panda. Apparently, Toge is dressed as Joker from Persona 5 for some reason but Panda told them that he got into it and wanted to try out.

For Panda, he wanted to go as a teddy bear but couldn’t find a suitable outfit in time, so instead he put a bear hat with ears along with a red ribbon tied around his neck.

“Hey, how’s everyone enjoying the party?” Gojo walks up to them, he’s dressed as Jack Frost with a blue hoodie with white linings to make them look like ice, brown pants and white shoes. He even brought a staff to match up.  

“I’m having a great time and you look fantastic, sensei!” Yuji replied.

Gojo smugly smirks as he chuckles, “I always look good in everything.”

“You look like a clown that’s what.” Gojo stares at the eye and mouth that appeared on Yuji’s cheek. Sukuna never understands the meaning of the holiday at all, he thinks that it’s lame to see everyone wearing abnormal outfits.

“At least I’m not stuck in a body as a vessel. Got anything to say to that?” He tilts his head as he still smirks. Sukuna grunts in frustration, but before he could make a comeback at Gojo, his mouth gapes with no words coming out.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?” Gojo waited for a response but there was nothing but silence. “What’s the matter with him?”

Yuji was about to reply but he looks over his sensei’s shoulder as he got the same reaction as Sukuna.

“Yuji, you too?” Gojo turns around to see what was making his student to be baffled, and as soon as he turns his back around, he starts to chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned, so that’s why.”  

You enter the courtyard with your friends by your side. You got on a white kimono with a blue obi tied around your waist. Tattoos painted on your face to make it look like his, you even added the extra eyes as well. As for the finishing touch, you put a long pink wig you previously wore from one of your cosplays and red eye contacts to match the entire look.

Smirking at them, revealing your fangs. “Hello, brats.”

Everyone stares at you either in fear or in awe. You head towards Yuji, who’s blushing on how beautiful you look, even though you’re dressed as the guy who bullies him everyday, you really pulled it off.

You drag your press-on black nail, gently on his cheek where Sukuna is. “Shocked, my king? You look speechless.” Tracing his lips with your thumb; he felt shivers crawling up his back. His eye explore everywhere on your body, you got every single one of his markings correct.

You softly chuckled at his reaction, this is the one you were looking forward to. “Until then, see you later, tiger.” You kiss his lips as you let go. He quickly reverts back to his domain, leaving him a blushing mess.

“Are you all surprised?” They all nod their heads, never in their lives they would’ve seen you to be dressed as the King of Curses.

“Why yes, your Highness.” Gojo bows to you. Now he knows who will be the true winner of the contest. “And how about we leave these two lovebirds alone.” Gojo leads everyone so they can enjoy the rest of the evening while you and Yuji can have alone time.

“I was not expecting this at all.” He rubs the back of his head, giving you a closed eye smile.

“I bet and I’m taking a guess that he wasn’t expecting this either.” You nod your head right at the scar under his eye.

“Yeah, none of us did either. You look really gorgeous.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body closer, having your hands travel up to his chest.

You blush, “Thank you and I think you look really handsome, my hero.” You cup his cheek, leaning into his face, giving him a kiss as he kisses back.

And with that, you won the contest with your costume and as to celebrate this moment, you and Yuji dragged each other to your dorm where he’s sitting on a chair, holding your waist as you ride on his cock.

You made him remove his Spiderman suit, only showing off his firm muscles. You rode him as if your life depended on it. “Baby, I- I think he wants to be out now!” He stammers, continuing his thrusts in your drenched pussy.

You moan softly at his cock hitting every spot. “It’s okay, my love. You can let him out.” He shuts his eyes as tattoos begin to form on his body. And the scars under his eyes, have opened to reveal his ruby eyes.

“What inspired you to dress as me, darling?”

“Well, I had to think which costume to go as and what would be a better idea than to dress as one of the most feared being of the Heian Era?”

Sukuna couldn’t help but smile, he felt his heart beat through his tatted chest. “This is why I fallen in love with you.” He grabs the shoulders of your kimono, pulling it down slowly, revealing your bare breasts. “No bra? Were you waiting for little old me to see this?”

“And what if I did?” You press your breasts on his pecs. Both of you are feeling turned on right now with this sexual atmosphere. He wanted to claim you so badly to ram his cock and fill you with his seed, making you his forever.

“What are you waiting for?” You snap him out of his thoughts, dragging your nails down on his muscles. “Do you want to please your Mistress?” You nip his ear lobe then giving it a lick.

Whatever it is you’re doing, is really making him feral and having his cock inside you, throbbing erratically. Letting out a feral growl, he got up from his seat, holding you in his arms to have your legs wrap around his waist, pressed you against the wall as he gave you harsh thrusts. Moans escaped from your lips, hands gripping on his chiseled back. “Do you love this, Mistress?” He grits his teeth.

“Very much! Don’t stop pleasing your Queen!” The sounds of skin clapping and moans echoing across the dorm. He looks down where a white ring is coated around his cock, he throws his head back, grunting and stares at you again with hazy eyes. “Fuck! Me and our brat are enjoying seeing you in pleasure. Telling me how you look like a goddess and he’s right.” Sweat drips from his forehead to his muscles, glistening by the light of the moon. “I love you two so much.” You cry out, tears run down your face. “We both love you two.” Finally, you both reach to each other’s climax, as he seals your lips with his, drowning every moan and caressing your thighs.

He pulls you away from the wall, slowly removing his cock from your pussy, his cum leaks out as he pushes his seed back into you with his fingers. Sukuna carries you to your bed and pulls down the covers. He gently puts you down as he joins you. He wraps your waist with his arm, dragging his body to you.

“Are you hurt?” Sure he may be rough during sex but he does get carried away at times and doesn’t like seeing you in pain.

“Not at all.” You snuggle closer, staring him with loving eyes.

“You’ve made your Mistress very happy.”

“That I did, my Queen.” He purred.

You two kiss each other again as sleep took over your bodies, cuddling each other’s arms.

Bonus:

The day after, Yuji woke up with markings and bite marks on his body and sees you cuddling him in his arms. He then decides not to wake you up and enjoy the moment with his girl.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy the story! ^v^ Don't forget to comment, reblog and like! <3<3<3

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.8k words

warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol/drinking (reader and steve get drunk lolz), random guy at a bar being an asshole

summary: in which it's a halloween night full of partying, fun, and maybe one too many drinks

author's note: ohohoh this was so fun to write !! happy (almost) halloween<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have laughed.

Because doing so did not help in convincing Steve that the costume he was wearing did not look ridiculous, and instead your laugh only made him frown at you.

“I’m not wearing this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was just a bit surprised to see how you looked.”

You didn’t expect the Robin costume you got for Steve to shock you as much as it did, and it was mainly because of the green pants he had on; because perhaps they were a bit too green. It confused you a bit because the pants hadn’t looked that overbearing and bright when you bought them from the costume shop— but, granted, it had still been in the bag with the rest of the clothing items for the costume, so you didn’t get to see too much of the pants. And with the red shirt he had on that had the signature “R” logo in the corner of it, for a split second, Steve looked more like Christmas personified than Robin, and that was what made you laugh. It wasn’t even a full laugh, it was more like a breath of a laugh. 

“Why can’t I be Batman and you be Robin?”

“Because that’s not an accurate representation of us,” You answered him immediately. “I’m clearly the Batman in this friendship. And I’m older.”

He rolled his eyes at you and you knew exactly what that eye roll said— “You’re only two fucking months older than me.”

“Why can’t Robin be Robin?” He asked. 

“You already know the answer to that. She and Vickie are doing some vampire couples costume thing.”

Robin being a part of the costume had been the initial plan— Steve would’ve been Batman, Robin would’ve been Robin, and you would’ve been Catwoman. But, when Robin bailed so that she could do the couple’s costume with Vickie, you refused to be Catwoman anymore because you didn’t want to spend the night constantly telling people that you and Steve weren’t dating and just decided to do a duo costume that looked way too obviously as a couple’s costume for “fun.”

“And we can’t even change the costumes now because we have to be at The Hideout in an hour,” You reminded him. They were having a Halloween party there and Eddie’s band would be playing at some point during the night, they were all going dressed as zombies, and a handful of other bands were going to be playing too. “You should’ve tried this on yesterday when I bought it.”

Steve only rolled his eyes at you again even though he knew you were right. You hopped off the kitchen counter and followed him as he walked back into his room. You sat down on the side of his bed and he went into his bathroom, looking in the mirror and running a hand through his hair. 

“Robin’s the cuter one of the duo, anyway,” You told him. “Girls will love it.” 

Steve still didn’t say anything yet, so you took that as your cue to keep going. “You should change the pants. These ones are way too bright and they kinda hurt my eyes. Maybe put on those darker green ones you have. People will still easily understand the costume, so it’ll be okay. And the rest of the costume is perfectly fine. Also, when you put the yellow cape on it’ll tie everything together.”

He still stayed quiet so you got up and walked over to where he stood still looking at himself in the mirror, and you poked his arm. “Can you please say something so I can stop giving you an ego boost by rambling about how good you’ll look tonight?”

Steve laughed a bit. “No, you should keep going.”

That time you rolled your eyes at him. “Ha ha. Fuck you.” You walked out of the bathroom and started heading to the bedroom door. “Anyway, I’m gonna put my costume on and then we should take a few shots before Vickie and Robin come get us.” 

“I thought we were gonna keep things mostly PG tonight?” Steve asked as he began rummaging through his closet for the pants you mentioned. “Because of what happened two nights ago.” 

Somehow you simultaneously winced and laughed at the mention of that Wednesday night. Where you and Steve sat in the living room drinking and watching random bad movies he brought home from Family Video; the alcohol actually managed to make the movies somewhat bearable to watch. It was an impulsive decision that left you both with horrific hangovers in the morning as you forced yourself to go to class and Steve begrudgingly went to his twelve o’clock shift.  

“Okay, I know that we’ve still only barely recovered from that night, but you don’t have to work tomorrow, and I’m not gonna have any school shit to worry about, so tonight we can just have fun without any of the consequences of what happened last time.” You turned around and smiled at him. “The type of fun that involves a lot of alcohol. And it’s Halloween so I feel like it’s bad luck if we don’t partake in underage drinking.”

“Very solid points.” 

“I’m gonna pretend that you weren’t being sarcastic right then and instead just believe that you actually do agree with me,” You said before finally leaving his room and walking toward yours. 

Your costume was already lying on your bed— a black cropped shirt with the signature Batman emblem on it, a black cape, and black jeans that were probably the tightest pair of pants you now owned but they made your butt look great so you overall counted them as a win. Getting dressed took no longer than five minutes, but then you spent an extra five minutes rummaging through your closet to find your black hightop Converses until you remembered that they were probably buried in the heap of shoes that always sat by the front door. You knew that wearing anything other than sneakers would’ve probably been better for the look of the costume, but last year you made the mistake of wearing heeled boots with your pirate costume, and although they did make the outfit look great, your feet were absolutely dead in the morning and you never wanted to experience that pain again. Therefore, tonight, sneakers would be the way to go.

You noticed Steve in the kitchen— with his pants changed and the rest of the costume on— when you left your bedroom and started heading toward the shoe pile by the front door. You reached into the pile, pushing aside a pair of his Nikes and then grabbing your Converses. 

Steve opened up one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out the bottle of tequila. You stopped tying your shoes for a second and looked up at him, immediately noticing how the bottle was close to empty. 

“Jesus, I didn’t think that we devoured so much of it the other night,” You said as Steve opened up a different cabinet to grab two mugs to use as makeshift shot glasses. 

“I vaguely remember us saying that if we drank more, the bad movies we were watching would start to actually make sense,” He said with a laugh as he started pouring. You couldn’t help but laugh with him because that sounded exactly like the type of drunken logic the two of you would have. “Also, I really wish Robin hadn’t bailed on the group costume because you look much cooler than me right now.” 

You only laughed more at his words as you went to grab two sodas from the fridge. “Next year, you can take full reign over our costume decision and I’ll go along with whatever you want.”

He smiled at you. “I will fully hold you to that.” 

“I’m already scared for whatever you end up deciding,” You said as you picked up one of the mugs and then Steve grabbed the other. “But, anyway, cheers.” 

“Cheers.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn’t remember exactly where Steve or Robin or Vickie were, but with your slight inebriation that realization didn’t worry you that much.

You had tasked yourself with grabbing more drinks for yourself and Steve from the crowded bar, but before you could even walk up to the counter, a guy dressed as a cowboy stopped you and decided to start a conversation. 

It was pretty dark and the music was loud, so you could barely make out what he was saying after he said his initial “hello,” but with the way he was smiling at you it was fairly easy to tell that he was flirting. And even though you were tipsy and he was a little bit cute, you weren’t in the mood to reciprocate. 

“I should go,” You interrupted him for the first time in the past five minutes. You attempted to make your voice sound as nice as possible because it was easier to say that excuse instead of the entire truth, which was that you simply didn’t want to talk to him. “I gotta get back to my friends.” 

Either the guy didn’t hear what you said or he decided to completely disregard it all because he said, “I’ll buy you a drink.” 

“No, thanks,” You told him, making sure your voice was loud enough so that he could clearly hear your answer.   

“Come on, let me be the Robin to your Batman, or better yet you be the Robin to my Batman,” He said and before you could scoff and roll your eyes and simply walk away, he reached out to firmly grab your waist. 

You immediately pulled away from him and were about to say something along the lines of “Fuck you,” but you were interrupted by arms circling around you from behind; it was a touch that felt so familiar that you instinctually leaned into it. 

“She already has a Robin to her Batman so fuck off,” Steve said and you had to try your hardest not to laugh at his words. It was always in moments like these, where guys were being dicks and didn’t take no for an answer, that you’d happily play the fake dating card with Steve. 

When the guy walked away, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t make out, you turned to face your friend and leaned in close to him so that he could hear you over the music. “Thank God for you, Steve Harrington.”

His mouth was close to your ear. “I knew that I shouldn’t have let you go alone to get the drinks.” 

“You were chatting up that girl dressed as Tinker Bell, so I thought I’d be a good wingwoman and walk away.”  

“She left with her friends.”

From the sound of his voice, it was hard to tell if he was sad about it or didn’t really care. “As your wingwoman, should I help you go after her?”  

He shook his head. “No, it’s okay, she was a little boring.” 

“Got it,” You responded with a quick nod. “Can we get a drink now? Talking to that asshole sobered me up too much.”

Steve glanced at the bar. “Eddie’s supposed to be on in five minutes and the bar looks even more crowded than it was ten minutes ago.”

It was your turn to look in that direction and you immediately knew that with the amount of people surrounding the counter, you and Steve would be waiting there for much longer than just a few minutes. 

“Fuck,” You mumbled and then looked back at Steve. “Okay, let’s go back to Robin and Vickie. Aside from helping to get that random guy away from me, I’m even more glad you’re here right now because I fully don’t remember where we were standing.”

“I had a feeling that would happen too,” He said with a small laugh before slipping his hand into yours and leading you toward your other two friends. 

There was no way you would’ve been able to find the semi-secluded corner near the stage that Robin and Vickie were standing by if it weren’t for Steve, and you made a mental note to not leave his side for the rest of the time all of you were at The Hideout. 

“Woah, no drinks?” Robin said when she noticed you two. She and Vickie were holding hands and once again seeing them in their matching vampire costumes made your heart squeeze at how adorable they were. “Are you two actually gonna be sober like us for the night?”

“I’m sorry, but that won’t be happening. But, I do promise that I’ll be the best and most functional drunk person ever so you don’t get super annoyed with me,” You said, smiling at her, and when Steve laughed at your words, you playfully elbowed him. 

“I love you, truly, but I kinda doubt that will happen,” Robin responded but still smiled back at you. “Oh, also, like five minutes ago, Vickie ran into this girl she knows and she told us about this party happening two towns over. We should go to it after Eddie’s set.”

“I don’t know the guy throwing it, but apparently, his house is huge,” Vickie chimed in and you nodded.

That was probably one of your favorite parts about this stupid little holiday; how quickly plans could change or be adjusted, and most of the time it would lead to you having more fun than you had initially anticipated. And plus you’d rather have free drinks at the house of this random guy than buy more at this bar or any other one.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The time was inching closer and closer to midnight and the party seemed as if it was at its absolute peak. So much so that Vickie had to park on a completely different block because of how crowded with cars the actual street was. 

Steve was carrying you on his back as you all walked to the house; he had been reluctant at first but ultimately couldn’t say no to your persistent “pleases.”

“This reminds me of last Halloween when your feet were hurting because of your shoes, so I also gave you a piggyback ride then,” He said and then glanced down. “This time you’re wearing sneakers, though, so this feels a little unnecessary.”

You smiled even though he couldn’t see you. “This is always necessary, Steven.” 

Robin and Vickie were a few feet behind you two, hands intertwined as they went into a conversation that went unheard by you and Seve because you were laughing at him saying that him carrying you right then proved why he should’ve been Batman tonight.  

“And they’ve never dated before?” Vickie asked and Robin immediately shook her head. 

“No, it’s never happened. It’s weird. They’re weird,” She answered as she continued looking at you and Steve. Sometimes she felt as if the idea of you two dating was something that she could see as clear as day— it did seem like it would just make so much sense. But nothing ever happened, and at this point of knowing the two of you, she honestly didn’t think it ever would. “They seem like they’d be perfect together, but I also think the world would implode if they ever tried something.”

Vickie laughed a bit at her girlfriend’s words. “Aw, well, I think they’d be cute.”

It was only thirty minutes into the four of you being at the party and you could finally say that you were no longer just tipsy. You’d probably end up regretting this in the morning because of the hangover that was imminent, but right then, you were glad you were drunk because it finally made your pants feel completely bearable. And Steve was as intoxicated as you were, maybe even more so because it somehow took little to no convincing to get him to play dumb games with you. 

It started out as truth or dare, but then one of the dares was to do a round of hide and seek, and then you decided to do more rounds of it because since both of you were drunk, it made the childish game even more fun to play. And since you were in a place that you two were completely unfamiliar with, it also made it funnier to play.

You weren’t sure whose turn it had been— who was the hider and who was the seeker— but you and Steve somehow ended up outside in the backyard, lying side by side on the grass and staring up at the sky. And you were laughing at a joke that you now couldn’t remember if it had been you or Steve who told it— you honestly couldn’t even recall the joke itself, but you just knew it had been funny. 

You shifted and turned on your side to face Steve and after a moment he did the same. 

“Thank you. For always being there for me,” You told him and then lifted your head so that you could kiss him on the cheek. “You’re quite literally the best person in my life.”

He shook his head at you, a small smile gracing his lips. “You always get so sentimental when you’re drunk.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “It’s the only time I let myself get super cheesy with you, Stevie.” Your drunkest of moments were also usually the only times when that nickname would come out. “But, I do hope you know that even though I don’t say it all the time, I always do feel this way. I always think about how insanely fucking glad I am to have you in my life.” 

“Don’t worry, I know.” He nodded at you and then smiled wider. “And I’m insanely fucking glad to have you in my life too.” 

He was Steve. Your Steve. Your best friend Steve. The Robin to your Batman. That couldn’t change. Ever.

So, why the fuck did you get the sudden urge to kiss him on the mouth instead of that all-too-familiar spot on his cheek again? 

Of course, you didn’t do it, and, of course, neither did Steve. Instead, a silence settled over the two of you for a bit.

“Come on, let’s head back in,” Steve said after a few moments. Somehow he was always the logical one in moments like these. 

Still, though, you felt the tiniest bit disappointed. But, you’d completely forget about that feeling, that fleeting thought, by the morning. 

Steve stood first and then reached out to pull you up. One of your hands was still intertwined with his when you walked back into the house. 

The party was still in full swing, and when the front door opened and a handful of new people walked in, that didn’t necessarily shock you. But it did make you smile widely at the people coming in because you recognized a familiar face. 

“Eddie!” You immediately went over to him, practically falling into his arms as you hugged him.

Since, due to your drunkenness, you’d actually forgotten that you all told him about the party after his band finished their set and he said he’d meet you there later, it felt like so much more of a coincidental, happy accident that he was there right then. You weren’t even fazed by his zombie costume, which had freaked you a little earlier because of how good and realistic it looked. 

“Hi!” He exclaimed, matching your enthusiasm while also smiling and laughing at your current antics. “You’re drunk.” He then looked at Steve who was behind you. “Wow, and you are too.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”

Eddie laughed a bit. “I can just see it all over you, Harrington.”

You stopped paying attention to their conversation and let your mind wander as you looked around at all of the random people in the house that were dancing and laughing with their friends.  

I should get another drink.

“That’s a bad idea,” Eddie said to you. 

You laughed as you looked at him. “I didn’t even realize I said that out loud.”

“Another reason why both of you need to be cut off for the rest of the night.” 

You knew that he was right, but that didn’t mean that you had to outwardly agree with him. Instead, you smiled at him and said, “I never thought I’d see the day where Edward Munson became the mom of the group.”

“Sometimes I like to turn over a new leaf,” He gave you a wry smile back and then poked your side which only made you laugh. “Where are Robin and Vickie?”

“That’s a good question,” Steve said and looked around for a quick second before meeting your eyes. “Do you remember the last time we saw them?” 

“I’m pretty sure it was right before we started playing truth or dare,” You answered and tried to think about exactly how long ago that was, but failed to do so because your memory felt too fuzzy right then. “I have no perception of time right now, so that could’ve been hours ago, honestly.” 

“It’s actually kind of funny how you two always somehow end up playing that game whenever we go to parties,” Eddie said. 

Steve shrugged. “It’s a stupidly fun game to play when drunk.”

“We also played a lot of hide and seek tonight,” You added and smiled.

Eddie only shook his head and laughed a bit. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder. “Eddie, if you’re feeling left out, we can play another round of hide and seek with you.”

He playfully rolled his eyes at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll live.”

“Oh, there they are,” Steve said, and when you looked in the direction of where he was pointing, you saw Robin and Vickie sitting on the couch in the living room and watching the movie that was playing on the huge television. The most random scene was on right then, and the sound coming from the TV could not be heard over the loud music that was playing throughout the house, but you immediately recognized the movie as Friday the 13th; which was actually pretty fitting because even though it wasn’t literally Friday the 13th, it was at least a Friday.

You then realized that the time was probably so far past midnight, so maybe it actually wasn’t fitting anymore. But, it was still a Halloween party, so technically any scary movie could work. 

Your mind then started listing off other scary movies you didn’t mind watching— Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining—  and you suddently couldn’t remember why you were even thinking about scary movies in the first place.

Eddie was definitely right; you really didn’t need another drink. 

“Hey,” Steve said, pulling you out of your thoughts. Eddie was now sitting with Robin and Vickie and watching the silently playing movie with them, and you and Steve were turned around leaning back against the couch. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Batman?” 

You laughed for no particular reason aside from how nice it felt to do so right then. 

“I think I’m starting to hit my peak. So, I need to capitalize off of this feeling before things start going downhill and I start begging Vickie to take us home so that I can pass out in bed.” You looked up at Steve and met his eyes. “Are you down for a few more rounds of hide and seek?”

His mouth quirked upward in a small smile. “Always.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You felt like you were choking, and that feeling was what pulled you out of your sleep. Your eyes were still closed as you reached up to touch your throat and immediately felt that your cape was still buttoned around your neck, but it felt so much tighter than how it did last night.

Your eyes opened just a bit and you saw Steve sleeping next to you, and you also noticed that you were in his room. He was on top of the blanket, still fully in his Robin costume, and you were under the covers. Somehow your cape had gotten tangled up underneath the pillow Steve was laying on. You groaned as you unbuttoned it, finally breathing normally. 

You shut your eyes again, trying to will yourself back to sleep because you felt like you could use a thousand more hours. But, for some reason, you couldn’t fall asleep, and instead all your mind could focus on was Steve’s soft snoring. 

Anytime you two ended up sleeping in the same bed or same room, his snoring rarely ever annoyed you, but this time it managed to do the opposite. And now you also needed to pee. 

With a sigh, you got out of the bed and padded over to Steve’s bathroom. You kept the light off because you refused to see how you looked right then, and also because the abrupt brightness would’ve only contributed to your growing headache. 

Steve was awake when you exited the bathroom. He was on his back, eyes open as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“You almost woke up next to a corpse,” You told him, your voice actually sounding much more hoarse than you expected it to be. 

He turned to look at you. “I feel like a corpse.”

“You were sleeping on my cape. I was almost strangled to death.”

“Shit, sorry.”

“I don’t really understand why we didn’t change out of our costumes when we got home. I also don’t remember why I decided to sleep in your bed,” You said as you got back in bed and pulled the blanket over you again. You tried to think back to last night, when you and Steve got back to the apartment, but right then it felt too hard to put the pieces of what happened together and you felt too hungover to do so. “Where are my pants?”

“I slightly remember you saying something about how much you “fucking hated them,” so you took them off before you got in my bed,” Steve answered.

You laughed. “Okay, yeah, that sounds familiar.”

He sat up, letting out a tired groan in the process, and started getting out of bed. “I need a shower.” 

“Me too,” You agreed with a nod but still leaned back and let your head fall against the pillow. “But, I also really wanna go back to sleep.” 

“We can be lazy on the couch all day,” Steve suggested. “Watch random sitcoms and order takeout for lunch and dinner.” 

His words were enough to get you of the bed and you smiled at him. “I love that idea.”

It wasn’t until you were in your room that you finally noticed that the time was somehow only nine in the morning. A part of you felt like it should be illegal for you to be up this early after the night you’d had, but your shower was helpful at washing away most of your tiredness and dull headache. 

When you emerged from your bathroom thirty minutes later wearing your favorite hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, you smelled coffee in the kitchen. 

“You’re awesome. You’re amazing. I love you. Thank you so much,” You said to Steve when you walked into the kitchen and he handed you a warm mug.  

“No problem,” He told you before taking a long sip from his own mug. “Also, while I was in the shower I had a thought; no more drinking for us. Not until Thanksgiving when we have to deal with our families, and alcohol is the only thing that will make getting through that holiday bearable.”

You nodded at that. “I completely agree.”

You were about to open the fridge to grab the carton of milk so that you could add some to your coffee, when you noticed the new polaroid picture that was hanging on it, pinned up by the Statue of Liberty magnet you and Steve got in New York when you took a trip there back in June.  

“When did we take this picture?”

Steve looked at the polaroid and his eyebrows furrowed. “I honestly can’t remember.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “We look so drunk, holy shit.”

So drunk but also so happy. Your cheeks were squished together so that you both could fit in the frame and happy drunk smiles took over your faces. You could tell by how much of a close up the picture was that you were the one that took it. 

It was a little funny, but also sort of fitting, seeing that picture among the other ones already on the fridge— including a group photo of the kids when they spent the night over at the apartment just a week ago, and one of Eddie smiling and holding your and Steve’s shared pet hamster, Harold. 

You grabbed the black Sharpie that was someohw always sitting on the kitchen counter— perhaps it was for this exact reason— and you wrote on the empty white space at the bottom of the new polaroid. 

Halloween ‘85. Batman & Robin.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[diamondheartyux]

Pennywise

  "Legend has it he likes to be crammed into any tight, wet hole he can find." 

DK x xreader

Genre: Horror, Smut 18 + MDNI

Word count: 5.8K

Warnings: Clowns, aggression, dub\con-ish, this is pretty tame compared to the others BUT if I have missed anything please let me know.

Welcome to part one of Killer Climaxes! 👻

Peep the playlist here

In a small town in Seoul, rumors swirl about Dokyeom: a clown obsessed, sex crazed weirdo who hangs out in the town's sewer systems. He was Seoul's own little Pennywise except he didn't crave your life, just your orgasms. It was also believed that once he got his hands on you, you were never the same, your body morphing, turning you into a certified nympho as the desperate craving for more was all but unbearable. The only problem is he doesn't double tap, so the town is left with a hoard of mindless zombies walking around in search of their next lay that could come close enough to satisfying them. 

People always say there are pieces of truth in legends but you can't seem to find any in this. A whole town of lust driven citizens? A grown man who roams sewers dressed as a clown? No sane person would do these things. It was absurd not to mention the fact that you were absolutely terrified of clowns. You scoff, one headphone in blasting your favorite playlist, as you quickly crumble the newsletter in your hand. Your footsteps echo on the wet pavement, the chilly autumn air hanging with the remnants of the storm having just passed through. The leaves rustle in the trees lining the street, the air around them dancing in shades of yellow, orange, and red. A breeze blows softly, whispering to your skin as it coaxes goosebumps to the top. You pull your cardigan tighter around you as your feet pad over piles of fallen leaves with a satisfying crunch. 

The sun was hidden behind the looming gray clouds, dimming the bright rays to a muted light around you. It was almost dusk, that time between early afternoon and nightfall when the street lights would turn themselves on at the first hint of dimness. You take in a deep breath, savoring the smells of damp and decay surrounding you and the scent sends waves of peace to your brain and through your body. It really was the most wonderful time of the year. You tread softly, in no hurry to get home as you travel the familiar path from college to your house. You zone out, your feet carrying you off muscle memory, as you nod your head to the music blasting in one ear. This road was empty, as it always was. That's why you chose it. No cars, no bikes, and most importantly: no people to bother you as you decompress from the day full of academics. 

Humming softly, you skip a little as you lose yourself to your music pumping loudly in your ear, your arms swinging and your shoes stomping on piles of wet leaves. Your body moves to the beat, shimmying in time with the tempo. Your mind is lost within you, the rhythm in your ears is just the escape you need after today. The town was buzzing for Halloween as it quickly approached, every corner boasting of witches, vampires, and clowns. All make believe creatures merely brought to life by childlike wonder, things you didn't understand the fascination with. 

You pass a storm drain and roll your eyes before tossing the balled up newsletter in your hand at it as you pass. You watch it as it disappears, hitting the concrete on the inside with a small noise and you smirk proudly. It was a perfect shot which is a lot because your aim was terrible. You turn back to the empty road before you with a smile on your face, amping the volume on your phone up. And you almost miss it. 

You weren't sure what you heard at first. A rustling so soft, it sounded like a background noise in your song. You pause the music, still strolling, and listen. When you don't hear anything you unpause it then rewind, listening for the odd sound again. Concentrating on the notes and rhythm in your earbud, you finally hear it again yet this time, it's in a different spot in the song. You stop, your mind on alert now as you turn to survey around you. Your eyes laser in on everything, searching for anything or anyone around you. 

You turn slowly to your right after sweeping the left and that's when you see it. Your eyes widen as you stop mid turn, your shoulder angled towards the storm drain you just passed. There, about half a meter from the drain was the newsletter you threw inside. Your brain is buzzing, busy sending out signals of danger through you yet your body remains frozen in disbelief. Against better judgment, you bring your body to face the drain. Your head tilts curiously as you study the paper ball in the street. Your eyes dart from the drain to the paper and back. You knew you had thrown it into the drain. Hadn't you? No, you saw it go in. It was the perfect shot, wasn't it? You lift your foot the slightest bit much to your brain's disappointment, and you push yourself forward, taking a timid yet cautious step. 

You make your way back to the paper, one small, scared step at a time. You try to come up with reasons for what happened yet none of them make sense. You stop, bending down slowly to grab the paper as you approach it and that's when you hear it. A sound so soft you almost missed it. You squat down, peering into the sewer when you hear it again: a whimper. It’s childlike in nature and a panic begins to bloom in your chest. Was there a child in there? How long had they been in there? Were they stuck?

“Hello?” you call timidly, your voice soft but loud enough to bounce off the concrete of the drain. You gasp lightly when a small, timid voice returns your greeting. 

“H-h-help me.” it says softly, the high pitch whine of a scared, small child ringing in your ears, sending alarm bells through your entire body for the wrong reasons. You lean forward some, placing your hand on the slick pavement to balance yourself as you try to peer into the drain. 

“I’m stuck. Please help me. I’m so scared. It’s so dark here. I want my mom.” the voice says to you, a hushed sniffle paired with a choked sob following its last words. Your heart pounds, shattering and the sirens of your brain are silenced by the overwhelming need to help this poor scared child. You lean forward more, your face now mere centimeters from the opening. You tilt your head side to side as you survey the blackness that presents itself over the lip of the entrance. You pull your foot forward to walk yourself in your crouched position, the sound of your sneakers dragging across the pavement feel louder than they should be but still bounce off your ears despite the frenzied pumping of your heart. 

“Give me your hand. Let me see if I can pull you out and then we’ll find your mom, okay? Can you reach the top?” you ask tenderly as you continue to move your face closer. Your arm comes out hesitantly, hovering just in front of your chest as you wait to see little fingers breach the darkness in front of you.

Small sniffles echo quietly in the inky dark space and you sit frozen, eyes trained to it. 

“I’m reaching as far as I can. Can you see my fingers?” 

You tilt your head curiously, concluding that the child was too short to be seen over the edge so you lean forwards more, one knee coming to almost touch the ground as your hands rests on either side of you for balance. You bring your face to the storm drain, eyes straining to see the outline of small, chubby, childfingers. When you see nothing, you feel a mixture of frustration and concern. You squint before you call back out. 

“I can’t see you.” You reply but then you see pale white fingers slowly come from the void of the drain as they snake up into the air before coming down one by one to grip the lip deliberately. You tilt your head in confusion. The fingers are long and slender. And pale. They very much do not look like children’s fingers unless maybe it was the way the shadows cast in there. Maybe it was optical, something your brain couldn’t understand due to the vast varying degrees of dark and light. You watch, holding in a breath while leaning closer subconsciously before you hear the voice again.

“Can you see me now?” it asks in response, the childlike falsetto distorting with every syllable.. You lean forward a bit more out of curiosity, eyes squinting as you try to see when suddenly a face appears, popping up quickly. You gasp, startled and fall backwards as an eerie giggle floats across the space between you. It takes a moment for you to register that you were looking at a clown. His face was painted a ghostly white and it cracked along the lines in his forehead to settle into the wrinkles of his skin. His yellow eyes gleamed manically, the red lines running through them in consistency with the curve of his cheek stopped at the end of his lips before outlining them in the same deep red that lines his face and the top of his nose. A ruffled, dirty white collar framed his neck, resting under his chin. His hairline was pushed back, his red hair barely visible in the shadows.   

A scream dies in your throat as terror strikes you, coursing heatedly through your veins. Adrenaline responds immediately and you can feel your muscles trembling at the sight. A clown. A fucking clown. You’re frozen, deer eyed as you watch this creepy clown, his long white fingers lifting as more malicious laughter breezes off his lips. His hand begins to slowly climb out of the shadows, reaching at snail’s pace towards your ankles. Your hands ache from leaning back on them and your chest heaves as panic threatens to shut your entire system down. 

His fingers creep closer to your feet and you stare, helplessly frozen as they uncurl before stretching slowly in an attempt to wrap around your ankle. In that moment, your brain finally switches back on and you instinctively shuffle backwards in a desperate attempt to put space between you and him before curling your feet closer to you. Tears fall down your cheeks, your vision blurry with them as you scramble to get away. Your eyes refuse to leave his terrifying face, the sadistic smile curving his lips upwards and exposing his teeth, etch itself in your memory. You finally manage to pry your watery vision from the terror in front of you as you twist to the side, trying to push yourself up to stand and run. That’s when you feel it. 

His fingers wrap around your ankle and terror buzzes through you once again. Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, as if screaming to get away. You turn your head to look back over your shoulder, both hands flat against the damp street under you before you kick your leg as you try to shake him off.. His hand grips tighter and his grin grows wider, exposing more of his pink gums.

He tugs at your foot, pulling you closer to the drain and to the darkness inside it. You kick harder and more frantically this time while sobs begin to erupt from your chest. He pulls you quicker and your flailing slows down to a stop. You try to grasp the ground as you inch closer to him, your nails cracking and breaking against the pavement before they begin to bleed. Your fingertips ache and, despite the failed efforts, you continue to claw in hopes to get away. You dig your hands tighter against the concrete as his giggles dance up your body and hover in your ears. Your vision is cluttered with tears despite the stream of them cascading down to drop from your chin.

In spite of your efforts, you can feel him pulling you closer, your legs bending as they crest the lip of the drain and dangle in the darkness inside it. Your arms ache and your fingers throb, the tips raw from your pointless struggling. You sniffle as your attempts to free yourself dwindle. Your body slides deeper into the storm drain, your legs dangling aimlessly as your waist finally crests the lip. He tugs you more with his slender fingers wrapped around your ankle almost painfully.You all but give up, allowing him to drag you further into his makeshift lair when suddenly you stop moving. He yanks your ankle to pull you down but you don’t move. Your upper body from the waist up remains on the outside, your hips too thick to snake into the bend of the drain. You wince as he continues to tug on your leg. Your hands return to trying to grip the road as you attempt to pull yourself out. Your legs flail frantically, hoping to take this opportunity to escape.    

A sigh of frustration permeates the air as he finally stops pulling your leg. You kick your legs continuously as you try to shimmy your way back out when suddenly a sting radiates across your backside. You jump slightly at the sudden, unexpected motion. Just how hard did he slap you for it to sting through your jeans? You continue to work to free yourself when another sting radiates through your bottom half. Your attempts falter as your body and your brain begin to work on different levels. Your brain tries to process what's happening while your body,...well your body doesn't seem to understand. The dull ache left in the wake of his hand spreads through you and your body is responding in all the wrong ways. A craving starts to wake, yawning as it rises slowly in your core so when his hand connects with your ass again, you almost moan involuntarily. 

Your brain bounces everywhere. You should be trying to get away, not all but anxiously waiting for the next touch. It had been a while since someone had made you feel good and the fact that his face was hidden almost made it bearable. But he was still some weirdo dressed as a clown and you should definitely get away, shouldn’t you? You reach a hand out in front of you and put pressure on your fingers as they grasp the pavement the best they can when his fingers begin to trail the inside of your legs. You pause as they work up from your calves at a tantalizingly slow pace. The tips of his fingers barely press against your pants as they tickle and tease on their ascension. You bring your bottom lip into your mouth, gnawing it as you anticipate the touch you knew was coming. He stalled, stopping to draw lazy circles in the middle of your inner thigh and you sigh before shifting in an attempt to move his hand where you want it.  

A chuckle creeps up before his fingers continue their journey, grazing teasingly over the crotch of your jeans. You shift, pushing yourself backwards against the touch. His hand slips up towards your stomach, his fingers curling to cup you before they rub small circles against the fabric. You stifle a groan, the touch not nearly enough friction through the thick fabric of your jeans. 

His hand disappears quicker than it appeared and you almost whine in protest before you feel his hand snaking between you and the wall you were dangling against. His other hand remains on your ankle, the grip loosening slightly as his fingers work to unbutton your jeans. He slides the zipper down slowly before pushing the fabric down as best he can with one hand. You shift slightly, instinctively trying to roll yourself against his hand to no avail. He continues to push your jeans down to your knees before he brings his hand back between your legs. His fingers slip over you, sliding skillfully between your folds. He runs them back and forth lazily before bringing his fingertips to your clit. You moan quietly as the motions send tiny jolts of pleasure through you. 

His hand around your ankle loosens more as he rubs you at a teasingly slow pace, his hand still cupped as it hovers over your ankle while he waits to see if you try to escape again. You barely feel him remove his hand, your mind focused on how you could get more pleasure from his digits to even bother with trying to run even if you had. Another soft chuckle vibrates the air before you feel his opposite hand come to caress your exposed ass. You groan at the touch, pushing your hips into his hand for more friction. He pops your ass lightly as you do and you whine. The slap wasn't enough to sting but enough for you to get the point that he was in control here, not you. The teasing was frustrating despite how little of it had been given. You were already desperate for release before this and he was making it worse by drawing it out. 

He runs his hand over the curve of your ass, gripping your cheek gingerly as he tugs it towards him to expose you some. You gasp softly before a low moan quickly escapes your mouth, billowing over your lips as you wait for what you expect to come. His fingers dip slowly, tauntingly as they casually glide down the curve of your ass and dip between your legs. You shift in an attempt to open your legs up more to allow him in which causes him to chuckle again at your eagerness. His skinny fingers stop to tease your now dripping entrance. You moan as the fingers circling your clit pick up their pace ever so slightly before he slips a finger inside you. You push your hips backwards to meet him as he sinks his digit deeper in. He starts out slowly, pulling his finger almost all the way out before pushing it back in to curl repeatedly in search of your sweet spot. You shiver slightly with every stroke as it warms the embers burning in your stomach. 

His fingers work you in a rhythm, picking up in pace gradually. He slips a second finger into you and you groan, your aching fingers digging into the pavement again as your pleasure threatens to coil tight enough to snap. Your body acts on its own accord, pushing and rolling your hips between each hand faster and faster as you match his pace. He pumps in and out quickly, always making sure to stroke the sensitive spot buried in you. Your lip aches from biting back the sounds that brewed in your throat and finally, you press your forehead on the wet ground as the dam holding them back breaks. Your moans carry, vibrating along your skin to carry down to his ears. His fingers pick up, circling faster and pumping harder. The tension now festering inside was growing too fast, it was uncontrollable and finally, it broke loose. Your body shudders and you clenched around his fingers, his ministrations sending you right over the edge without a second glance. You moan into the concrete as pleasure crashes into you. His fingers don’t relent, still pumping in and out of you as he coaxes your orgasm on. 

Your body quivers slightly as you buck softly through each wave. His hand falls from your clit before his fingers slip out, leaving an emptiness in their wake. You groan and wiggle again, still wanting more despite having just gotten off. You hear his mouth pop, as if he had been sucking on his fingers before he chuckles again and you have to stifle a moan at the thought of him licking you from his fingers and enjoying it. You lift your head up, your breathing rapid as your brain tries to settle and unscramble when you feel yourself slip a little. You grip the road again to keep yourself where you are to no avail. You squeak out a small yelp and squeeze your eyes shut as your body slips more, sinking into the sewer. You brace yourself for the impact you were so sure you’d feel and when it doesn’t come, you open your eyes. 

It was dim, the soft light from the drain barely illuminating anything. Your pants were still bunched around your knees but with them were hands. You raise your eyes and turn your head and find those yellow eyes staring back at you. They gleaned but this time with lust instead of malice. His hands held your hips and he pressed his fingers into your skin lightly. You shut your eyes quickly, the sight of him sending terror to override the high you were still riding. His fingers danced against your skin causing it to prickle underneath his touch. Your body, despite better sense, ignited again as he ran his hand up your body to caress your waist. He turned you around to press his back against you and you could feel the outline of his arousal as it pressed into your bare ass. You moan quietly as his hands continue their journey, fingertips trailing as they come to cup your breasts. 

Your hand reaches back to rub against him as he paws your chest through your shirt, stopping to slip his hands under your sweater then your bra to caress your bare skin. His fingers graze over your nipples, flicking across them teasingly before he rolls them between his thumb and pointer finger. He tugs them gently and you gasp, your hand gripping his erection through his costume as you try to stroke him. You keep your eyes shut as he walks the two of you forward before coaxing you to bend. He lifts your hand from his crotch and places it against the cool, curved wall. A breath puffs from your lips at the crisp feeling against your skin, the chill a deep contrast to the heat blazing under your skin. His hands disappear from under your sweater and you hear the sound of his clothing rustling. In seconds, the hands have reappeared followed by the warmth of his skin as he grips your hips to pull you against him. 

You moan softly at the feeling of his bare erection pressing against the skin of your ass and you push yourself back towards him. He lifts his hands, one coming to spread your ass cheeks apart and the other to guide himself to your entrance. You arch your back as you offer yourself up to him and he takes the invitation, swiftly pushing himself into you. He curses lightly at the feel of you, your warmth and wetness eagerly swallowing him. His cock fills you with a fullness you hadn’t ever experienced before. You moan at the feeling of being stretched this way as he pushes into more and more. Your chest heaves as your breathing rises with every inch he buries inside you before you feel his hips against your skin again.

You hang your head, your hands resting firmly on the wall as he pulls back to slide out of you almost completely. You moan softly as he pushes himself back into you swiftly, setting the pace of the movements to follow. He starts to thrust into you fast, rocking your body with every pump. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips roughly as he pulls you to him with every forward thrust he makes. He grunts softly as you moan loudly, the sound reverberating off the walls around you. He thrusts faster, each one a little more aggressive than the last when a hand sides off your hips to caress up your back, over the base of your neck, and into your hair. His body leans over yours and you moan again as he pushes deeper into you while he fists your hair tightly. He tugs it roughly one time and you wince before he tugs again to pull your body flush with his, your back against his chest. 

You gasp and groan as your hands whip around to grip against his hips, legs, whatever you could find and his pumps into you hard and fast. His free hand comes to rest under your sweater, his bare hand holding you as it rests on your stomach. He tugs your hair again to pull your head back before he presses his lips into the crook of your neck. He pounds into you over and over while his lips glide over your neck, stopping only to allow his teeth a chance to graze the sensitive spot below your ear. His groans bounce between his lips and your ear and fuels the fire blazing dangerously in your core. You dig your nails into his skin when his hand slips from your stomach and his fingertips find your clit again. 

He rubs it almost furiously without bearing down painfully as he pumps faster into you. You rest your head against his chest, his hands still wrapped into your hair. The dam holding your sounds from earlier was all but shattered and the sounds of your moans mix with flesh colliding in the chilly, murky tunnel around you as they echo around you. You yelp as he pulls your hair harshly before letting it go, pushing your head forward as he does. He quickly forces you to lean back over and his hands find your hips again. He digs his fingers in painfully as he pulls out of you before slamming back inside roughly. The flames of your desire dance wildly with every thrust, pushing you closer and closer to combustion as he fucks you harshly. You hold yourself up on the wall as your body bounces violently in rhythm with his strokes. 

He grunts and groans in time with each one before finally the fire inside explodes. You cry out as your body convulses under him. His strokes hold pace as you clench around him, having missed the edge of your pleasure before being completely catapulted into the blaze instead. He draws it out but never lets up, his skin slapping against yours as layer after layer of desire burns through your cells. When the embers finally die, you lift your head up and let it loll back as he carries on, chasing his high. You rock back and forth in time with his body, more sounds pouring from his lips before finally he pulls out of you suddenly. The absence hardly has time to be felt before he’s spinning you around and pushing you to your knees. 

You don’t have time to think much less try to disobey before he shoves his cock into your mouth. You moan softly at the taste of you melting onto your tongue before he rocks himself against your mouth and shoves himself all the way in. You gag as he hits the back of your throat but it doesn’t stop him. He continues his chase. His fingers tangle into your hair as he guides your head back and forth to match the pace of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth. He growls before he smashes himself against the back of your throat once more. His hands hold you flush with his hips and his cock twitches as you gag around it. Tears form immediately in your eyes as you feel a warmth spurt against your raw throat. He rocks against your mouth as he chases his orgasm, making sure to coax out every drop of his release as he can as you swallow instinctively.  

When he pulls out, you gasp for air and the tears pooling in your eyes creep down your cheek slowly. You cough, leaning over slightly. You only take your eyes off him for a minute but when you lean back up merely seconds later, he is gone. You rest a hand on your chest as you wait for your body and breathing to return to their normal, calm state. You turn your head side to side as you search for him but it's empty around you. You stand up and pull your jeans up to refasten them and readjust your clothing. You run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to comb it slightly before you turn to take in the area around you. You look up at the opening of the drain and know there was no way you would be able to get out of there that way. You turn to your left and begin to walk cautiously, your body on alert in the near darkness as you wait for him to pop out at you from the darkness somewhere. 

You walk for what feels like forever before you see small beams of light cascading from the ceiling up ahead. As you get closer, a ladder comes into view. You climb up, rung by rung, stopping to press up against the heavy cover closing the path into the sewer above you. You let it crack lightly and listen before pushing it up and over. You pull yourself out onto a deserted road before standing and replacing the manhole cover. You brush yourself off and take in the area around you before recognizing where you were. When you get home, you go straight to the shower to wash off your circus sewer romp in hopes to help calm your body down. You climb into bed after and pull the covers to your chin only to be haunted by the memories of your afternoon. His face flashes through your mind, those yellow eyes boring into you. Tingles dance across your skin, teasing your arousal until you can’t take it anymore. You work yourself quickly, desperate for sleep but he was even there. 

You dreamed about him, about the way he felt inside you. You heard the noises he made and felt his hands against you all over again. You awoke the next morning just as flustered as you were when you went to sleep. And it stayed this way. Every day and every night you were haunted by the memories of him and nothing was as satisfying as the way he slammed into you. Clowns no longer scared you after that. You watched them too closely now, hoping maybe one of them was him. You knew the rumors said he never hit it twice but you were desperate and only he could fill you the way you ached for. Every giggle that floated mysteriously across the air set your body and heart off. Every drain you passed, you stared at too long, hoping whatever you tossed inside would appear back on the street again after you passed. 

You groaned softly, remembering when merely days ago you were scoffing at the unreal accusations of how half the town were brain dead, having been fucked into an addiction only to now find yourself in the same position.                  

[michimonie]

With Count Duckula having new minions in the Danger Mouse 2015 do you think Igor and Nanny retired from their duties of taken care of their master after the next incarnation was another failure or 2015 Duckula himself fired them (the previous 88' Duckula left him a post-it note reminding him to be mad at Igor for turning his ancestral line into vampires just cause)?

I'm not entirely sure, myself, but I have thought about this often.

After seeing the 18th, I'm sure Igor would be pleased that he's evil, but wouldn't like the fact that the 18th's brand of evil is much more toned down than he would want. That being said, IMO it's totally plausible that either he chose to leave, Duckula didn't want him around anymore, or both at the same time. Also, I love the idea of him just leaving a post-it for himself. That's such an interesting idea.

I'm not sure of what Nanny's lifespan is like (and I don't remember her being there when they met the first Duckula) so I can totally see her retiring or at least moving on to another job. Sure, she loves her duckyboos, but eventually all nanny's have to move on...

That would leave Duckula the 18th all alone, which (depending one why Igor left) could be one of the reasons the 18th went evil. It may even be a reason for why he has these new powers to turn people into vegetable zombies (but idk how vampire powers entirely work, lol.)

Duckula: Well, I'm on my own now... I-I'm not lonely, but a minion... a minion would be a great addition to my team! R-Right! Definitely not because I'm lonely or anything.

[b-skarsgard]

You’ve kept your Count Orlok hidden away so far, but what can you share about his look? It’s quite different from the Nosferatu seen in the silent film.

This Orlok is more of a folk vampire than any other film version. That means he's a dead person. And he’s not like, “I look great and I'm dead.” Folk vampires in some ways are more visually similar to zombies. My thinking is that if you invite someone to your castle and you don't want them to know that you're dead, you're trying to be hidden. That also hopefully increases the anticipation of the reveal. We all know our imaginations are always stronger than what the filmmaker can provide. It was a challenge for me to go against my instincts in showing the monster.

Can you share any more about his appearance?

The reason why he looks the way he looks and he dresses the way he's dressed is because for the first time in a Dracula or Nosferatu story, this guy looks like a dead Transylvanian nobleman. Every single thing he's wearing down to the heels on his shoes is what he would've worn. That's never been done.

Bill Skarsgård told me he worked hard to deepen his voice and create an accent that mimics the speaking voice of a very old language from Eastern Europe.

Ancient Dacian. The Dacians were the people who lived in Romania. He's speaking a dead language. But we had Florin Lăzărescu, who's a poet and novelist and screenwriter in Romania, who created his interpretation of ancient Dacian for Orlok's spells. He also was just a general consultant about Transylvania folklore.

Bill Skarsgård said you wrote a short story for him that explained Orlok’s origin as a sorcerer. Is that too much of a spoiler?

That’s fine to say. Yeah, in order to make this story my own and integrate all the stuff that I had been reading—and to also understand the characters better—I wrote this novella that created a lot of backstory for all the characters. It also had tons of scenes I knew would never be in the movie, just to flesh out the character dynamics and flesh out the relationships. There were a couple appendices, and one of these was an Orlok origin story.

Is this anything you would intend to publish?

[Laughs.] It's very poorly written. I was trying to do this like a writing style from the period, which I think... There's a reason why I make films and why I'm not a novelist.

excerpts taken from the article linked above

[dizzyhslightlyvoided]

Copyright smuggling: Darkstalkers

Darkstalkers is an old fighting game by Capcom -- it's basically like if Street Fighter 2 was a monster mash, except also there's stuff like a demonic alien, and a blue-skinned devil who wants to merge everybody's souls together. They haven't done anything with the series in decades, though, apart from the odd remake, and/or letting Morrigan and possibly a few other characters appear in crossovers. This post will try to come up with ways you can use non-copyrighted versions of the same characters and concepts! Fortunately, this is relatively easy, because a lot of them were Capcom figuring out how to copyright public-domain characters to begin with.

Specific public domain characters:

Sasquatch: Bigfoot. They didn't even give him a copyrighted name. Doesn't look remotely look like it, though. Actually he's kind of more like a Canadian yeti?

B.B. Hood ("Bulleta" in Japan): straight-up just "Little Red Riding Hood ... With A Gun." Like I'm not kidding, her character design is a completely generic rendition of Little Red Riding Hood, aside from the name and the weapons. If anything, her appearance is less distinctive than some depictions you can find on the first page of a DuckDuckGo image search.

Victor von Gerdenheim: An expy of Frankenstein's Monster. They basically just took the Hollywood version, gave him bigger hair and changed his skin from green to blue, and gave him a little sister to care about.

Demitri Maximoff: An expy of Count Dracula, in some ways; Demitri just has some Darkstalkers-specific rivalries and spikier hair. Just don't make it too obvious by directly giving him an equivalent of Midnight Bliss (gender-bender magic being its own non-specific concept).

Non-specific public domain concepts:

Hsien-Ko ("Lei-Lei" in Japan): a Jiang-Shi, a hopping vampire of Chinese myth controlled by a paper charm on her forehead.

Anakaris: The undead mummy of an Egyption pharaoh. Mummies are of course a generic stock monster.

Lilith: The concept of a part of someone's soul, or their entire soul, becoming separated and attaining a life/mind of its own. Can be applied to any other character-concept. Capcom later used this in the Devil May Cry series. Sonic the Hedgehog did it twice.

Felicia: Somewhere on the scale between "catgirl" and "cat furry." Felicia's main distinction is the strategically-placed patterns of fur on her body.

Donovan Baine: a monster-hunting half-vampire. That's not even a particularly distinctive concept.

Q-Bee: Bees.

Non-public-domain inspirations which have public domain counterparts

Jon Talbain ("Gallon" in Japan): His English name is clearly derived from Sir John Talbot, the title character of The Wolf Man (1941), which is not in the public domain; however, the concept of a werewolf is.

Rikuo ("Aulbath" in Japan): An off-brand Creature from the Black Lagoon, which isn't in the public domain, but "humanoid fish-people" is doable. For example, there's the Deep Ones from HP Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos, which is understood to be in the public domain, or the kappa of Japanese mythology.

Bishamon: A cursed samurai/animated samurai armor. Not too hard to make something generic out of that.

Multiple concepts/potentially too distinctive to reference directly:

Morrigan Aensland: A succubus, or more generally a she-devil. She could also be some manner of vampire maybe? She can also transform her wings into jetpacks and whatnot (which is the only reason she's listed here instead of under "non-specific public domain").

Pyron: A demonic alien with fire-powers. That's it, that's the concept.

Huitzil ("Phobos" in Japan): an army of alien robots, with a design inspired by doguu figurines from ancient Japan.

Lord Raptor ("Zabel Zarock" in Japan): the more personable kind of zombie + rock and roll.

Jedah Dohma: hm. There's nothing particularly public-domain-shaped until you go as far back as "demon" or "the devil". Oh well.

[doverpf]

Hello! ✌🏻I’m 30 she/they looking for 25+ RP partners.

A little bit about me: I RP exclusively on discord, my word count tends to fluctuate between 700-1200 words per reply, sometimes more or less depending on muse or what’s happening, third person past tense, and I enjoy spice and dark content. Replies are a bit infrequent, but I do tend to try to throw out at least one reply a day or every other day.

I also love chatting ooc and just gushing about our muses.

I’m looking for MxF ships, with me playing F role. OCs only. I’m okay with some fandom settings. I don’t have many pre-written characters in mind for what I’m wanting to do, but I can make one for whatever we decide to do.

I also like to use Tupperbox, but it’s not a deal breaker.

Some settings I’m interested in doing are as followed:

Zombie apocalypse. (I have a character for this)

Pirates. (I have a character for this)

M!Vampire x F!Vampire Hunter

Maybe something Fourth Wing inspired with dragon riders.

Something Dark Academia?

I also like fantasy.

Whichever of these might interest you, or we can do something different.

I don’t have anything concrete plot wise, but I do better plotting back and forth.

If interested, like this and I’ll reach out. ✌🏻

if interested, please like this post for the user to reach out. ♡

[riotinwonderland]

Hey 🫡 my name is Riot, or Rio, whichever you wanna use. I go by most any pronouns, as well as anything punk related for neos.

I’m gender queer - if that wasn’t entirely obvious - it’s complex and hard to explain but spicy trans guy will do it.

I’m a total media nerd, from books to shows to music, to poems, to art etc, I love it all.

I do DIY, well, recently started it, I do art and I write (although I’ve never finished a book in my life, theyre all half finished if that.)

I’m 20, if that’s an issue for anyone, soon to be 21 on February 8th 2025. I’m also British.

I’d consider myself a gilded rebellion (a term I coined - I have a specific interest in Victorian type aesthetics as well as heavy into punk).

I do also like musicals and most genres of music, doesn’t mean I’ll listen to any artist though.

Anyway, read on if you’d like to know more of my interests, or we can talk and you can figure it out within fifteen minutes.

My favorite fictional characters are:

Claudia Donovan, Dr. James Watson, Ianto Jones, Dr. Robert Jekyll, Maeve Wiley, Abby Sciuto, Faith Lehane, Sherlock Holmes, Spencer Reid, Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland, Ed Nygma, Ichabod Crane, Lex Luthor (Smallville), Lex Miller, Duela Dent, Cullen Row, John Mitchell

Some shows I like are:

Warehouse 13, Sanctuary, Jekyll & Hyde, Houdini & Doyle, Torchwood (and Doctor who in general), Sex Education, Criminal Minds, Any Sherlock Holmes, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, My Lady Jane, Dead Boy Detectives, Gotham, Sleepy Hollow (show), Poldark, Outlander, Smallville, Deadly Class, Gotham Knights, Being Human

Some musical artists I like are:

Sex Pistols, Hedwig & The Angry Inch (ik not technically an artist but it counts in my eyes), Breakfast Muff, PTV, Simple Plan, Mayday Parade, Get Scared, Set It Off, Generation X, Bikini Kill and so much more.

I’d appreciate some mates to talk to, it would be nice, so if you like any of the above, or just want to make a friend in general, I’m open to it.

[gemini526sdumptruck]

And now here's a proper introduction for the Emobjects!

I'm gonna be honest, I only still call them that because I don't have a better name xD.

I made these backgrounds, featuring little character symbols I made for each of them! These actually took longer than I anticipated! I didn't feel like making alternate poses for them after that so I decided to just make their bio post now lol.

Let's meet them!

Heartbreaker (She/Her): Heartbreaker is a dark angel who was sent down to Earth by the leader of the dark angels, Timekiller, to deal with some dark creatures (still deciding what) who planned on invading Earth. Realizing she was probably going to be here long term, she figured she needed somewhere to stay and something to do. So she set up a home for herself and decided to somehow enroll into the local high school, everyone would hopefully think she's just a regular teenager. This is where she would meet the rest of the group, who would slowly but surely consider her one of their bunch. Heartbreaker tends to take things extremely seriously, especially her mission. She was also hesitant to warm up to the others, because making friends was absolutely not her goal. But just how the others grew to like her, she came to like them as well. Hearbreaker can be snippy, is very straight to the point, and doesn't take anything from anyone. Her mallet is her primary weapon. It packs a powerful punch, but it's very heavy. Yet you will never catch her without it. Despite her unapproachableness, she is very loyal to the people she can tolerate.

Shady (She/Her): Shady isn't exactly the social type. Unless if she's around her friends or her sister, Shady's first instinct when it comes to conversations is to try and end it as soon as possible. She's a little deadpan and pretty blunt in her speech, too. However, Shady has a passion for creating and writing. Shady likes to sketch things in her sketchbook, writes short poems, and when she's really feeling it, whole stories. She was the first to meet Heartbreaker, and Shady thought she was the coolest object she's every seen. Like she's not imagining things, that girl actually has wings! Shady still isn't the most talkative, but when you get her going on something she's pretty nice to talk to.

Fang (He/Him): Fang is a half vampire, only half because he was turned rather than born that way. However he fully embraces that. Fang is probably the most social of the group. He talks...a lot. One of his favorite things to do is scare people for fun, whether it be pretending to bite them or just generally freaking them out by describing how he lives his unlife. He hangs from ceilings sometimes, he sleeps in coffins (which is how he prefers to sleep), and he even drinks blood (from frogs but he still counts it as blood, blood isn't easy to come by in the object world).

Deathcap (He/Him): Deathcap is snarky and tough. He's generally closed off from other people, and the rest of the group are really the only other people he interacts with genuinely. He can also get pretty aggressive, especially if someone else is dissing him or the rest of the group. If somebody takes a swing at him, he'll likely swing back with an insult of his own. Deathcap is a bit of a metalhead, and if you see him with earbuds, he's probably listening to metal on full volume.

Pinz (He/Him): Pinz is a bit of a strange one. He was found by Fang one day while he was walking through the graveyard. Pinz is a zombie doll thing who before joining the group was just wandering the graveyard aimlessly every night. After Fang befriended Pinz, Pinz got attached to Fang pretty quickly, and started following him everywhere. Fang decided to just introduce Pinz to the rest of the crew, and Pinz has stuck with them ever since. Pinz doesn't have a lot going on in his head, and he doesn't say much. All he's really able to say is his own name, "Pinz". Despite being a literal zombie, Pinz is harmless. He's actually quite friendly, but not a lot of people wanna be around him because of how scary he looks.

Acute (They/She): Acute was a mutual friend of Shady before joining the group. Acute sticks out in comparison to the others, but that doesn't bother them! They're just happy to be included in the group. Acute is excitable and could also be described as hyper. Acute generally just loves to have fun. They find fun in going online and posting whatever random thought is on their mind, visiting the arcade and maybe getting a burger along with it, and they especially like to dance to music on their playlist. (I also still desperately need to give them their own accessory xD)

Radiax (He/Him): Radiax has a passion for science, he's always had one. He definitely teeters on the line of "mad scientist", and he wears that label like a badge of honor. Debatably the smartest of the bunch, Radiax has his own secret lab in the basement of his house. His parents think he's just playing around, but they have no clue just how serious Radiax is about this science stuff. Weird sludge, probably toxic goop, and slime that seems to move all on its own, Radiax knows it all. Classic monster movies and creature features are some of his favorite media, the freakier the better! Radiax himself is intelligent, eccentric, and at times pretty smug, but often has the most "out there" solutions to things (almost all of them involve some kind of weird liquid he made).

I love these guys so so much. I hope they feel more like actual characters now, that was my primary goal here lol.

[mjwiththefangs]

Trickery & Daggers - Chapter 9

In which we tackle arachnophobia. Also on AO3 Masterlist Word count: 4859 Warnings: Biting, arachnophobia, vomiting, knife play

--

“ ‘Vampire spawn, although weaker than the Lords that spawned them, have incredible strength and powers including spider climb. These combined with their affinity with shadows make them a dangerous adversary to face alone.’ Hm, well, fancy that, the little warlock was right.” Astarion reads aloud with a hum. “It would seem that Bastard kept us all starved for more reasons than we knew.”

 The bitterness lances through him, twisting with renewed fury and loathing for the one that turned him and tormented him all these years. So far, the book has been insightful. Not only in teaching him new things about himself, but about other undead also. He had been hoping to find something - anything - to use against Cazador, though so far it's only reiterated what he already knows. Sunlight, silver, a stake through the heart.

 He was amused to discover that lesser zombies will not be hostile if you smell like a corpse. It seems to be unknown if the same is true for greater zombies, being that they only seem to occur alongside necromancers.

 He leafs through the pages, skimming more text and paragraphs on vampires, until he turns another page and raises one brow, curiosity bubbling within him.

 Dhampirs.

 “They’re real?” He murmurs to himself, half-believingly. 

 ‘Often referred to as half-vampires, these creatures are not always the result of a union between a Vampire and a Mortal. ‘

 Now there’s something interesting. He’s assumed dhampirs are such a rarity due to the nigh-impossibiltiy of their conception. But maybe they’re not such an impossibility after all. 

‘Documented instances of dhampiric existence are confirmed but not limited to macabre bargains, necromantic influences and encounters with abstruse immortals.’

 He reads further, torn between amusement and a grimace when he finds that parasites can trigger this transformation through the host indulging its hunger. Well, these tadpoles suddenly have a few more complications or potential consequences. That will make their removal certainly interesting.

 Surely, being a vampire, he’s the only one of the group who is guaranteed to be safe of dhampiric transformation. Although, according to the next page, most studies show that while still sensitive, and in most cases weakened, they can walk in the daylight. Most of the time. The text seems to suggest that it can vary on an individual basis, what traits or powers a dhampir will share with a vampire.

 ‘ Typically, dhampirs can integrate and blend in better than their shadow-sworn kin. ‘

 “Ugh, what an obnoxious way of putting it.” Astarion rolls his eyes and instead returns to reading on what makes such a creature. “... ‘Reincarnation of a vampiric lord ancestor ‘ ? Oh dear, Strahd himself may yet walk among us!” He laughs to himself and then he instantly becomes more sombre, the fun lost, when his eyes fall to the next known cause of transformation.

 ‘Tragedy interrupted the transformation into an immortal.’

He stares accusively at the words for a long moment. His jaw clenches. He snaps the book shut.

Astarion decides he can read more later.

.

 “The sign says Moonhaven.”

“Well, the goblins were calling it Bogrot.”

The jovial chatter between Wyll and Karlach drifts in through the broken doorway of the apothecary.

“There’s a hatch over here. Shall we go down?” Morgana calls, peering over the counter top to the elf flipping through what appears to be a ledger.

 “Hm? Ah. Yes, it sounds like the owner had something hidden in a basement.” He says thoughtfully. Her own curiosity piqued now, she nods, and opens the hatch, descending down the ladder into the dank and stale room below, thankful for her inherited darkvision as she scans around her.

 Astarions boots step noiselessly down the ladder behind her, signalling his arrival. He stalks into the room, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

 “Ugh. It reeks of undead down here.”

 Morgana only hums in agreement. They both search the room, examining books, rummaging through drawers, patting down shelves, until Astarion makes an excited noise and something clunks and drags across the floor behind the bookcase.

 “A secret door.”

 “How cliche.” Morgana says dryly, and he giggles.

 Through the doorway, they find themselves in a cavernous opening, with sunlight leaking through the ceiling, and the thick smell of decay lingering about the coffins.

 Undead.

They exchange a quick glance. Astarion flips his daggers in his hands and crouches low, Morgana’s magic hums to life in her palms, and she takes aim, and nods.

…

 It doesn't take them long, going one by one through each coffin and eliminating the hostile skeletons in each one. Morgana checks all the remains, looting any valuables, while Astarion brushes any remaining bone dust from his clothes with apparent disdain.

 She can hear him muttering under his breath and rolls her eyes, hiding her smile, and wanders deeper into the cavern, halting when she spots something catching the light.

 “Astarion! Over here.”

 When he joins her, she gestures to the shining surface. It takes them longer than either would like to admit to realise they’re looking into a mirror.

 “I keep forgetting your reflection just disappears.” He clicks his tongue.

 She shrugs, scanning the silvery surface. “Honestly it’s rather pleasant to not be the only individual without one.”

 Before he can retort, a presence surges to life within the glass surface, a featureless mask, its hollow voice echoing out.

 “Speak thy na-me.”

Morgana lifts her chin, thinking, and slowly answers “Morgana.”

“I do not kno-w this name. Tell me, are thee an ally of my ma-ster?”

She grimaces and purses her lips.

 How about this…

“I know your master, Ilyn Toth.” She’d found a journal in the other room and quickly skimmed it. He was a former Red Wizard, although he only spoke of ‘Bringing her back.’

 “Ha. Clever little Warlock.” Astarion mutters his approval and she smirks to herself, pleased.

 “Fin-ally. If thee could see any-thing in me, what would it be?”

 Morgana pauses, folding her arms across her chest. What would she want to see in this mirror?

 “...I'd see myself free of this worm.”

“You se-ek to surv-ive.” The voice in the mirror seems pleased with her answer, and without much more to say, it dissipates, allowing the pair access to what appears to be a lab.

 Morgana lifts her chin in wonder, eyeing the large aquatic-looking skeleton hanging from the ceiling and glancing over the various apparatus and discarded, long rotten body parts, now mere bones, littered about the space.

 “What is all th-”

 She squawks indignantly, suddenly jerked back and flails her arms to keep balance. The warlock whirls on the vampire, incredulous, only for him to level her with an unimpressed stare.

“Traps.” He deadpans, pointing, without looking, right where Morgana was about to step. Her face burns briefly with a flash of embarrassment, but she clears her throat, regains her footing and mutters a thanks.

 She can feel his smug eyes on her as she carefully steps around the room, minding her footing this time, and approaches a locked gate.

 Her brows lower into a frown. There’s something magic in there; very old, and very powerful. Grasping at the bars, she tugs.

 It doesn’t budge.

 She clicks her tongue in annoyance. Turning, she reaches into her pockets, fishing out a lockpick and pin. A huff sounds over her shoulder.

 “You can’t pick a lock.”

 Morgana just rolls her eyes, carefully poking around in the lock with the tools. Unblinking, she mutters back “I can pick a pocket, can’t I?”

 “Yes, and you didn’t notice your own pocket getting picked by yours truly.” Astarion counters. “Just move over and let me do it before-”

 The tool snaps, a loud click echoing through the room.

 Morgana sheepishly turns her head up to him, Astarion glaring firmly at her. Relenting, she shuffles over without a word and he swoops down, peering into the lock and then immediately scoffs.

 “You’ve jammed the lock, darling.”

“You… can’t unjam it?” She asks meekly.

 He rises back to his feet, hands on his hips, exasperated. “No. I can’t. It's one thing to break a tool, it's another to break the damn lock in such a distinctly unhelpful manner.” He flaps his arms. “Now we can’t get in there and find what treasure they might have been hiding.”

“You’re incredibly petulant, you know that?” She says dryly, earning another glare. If he were a cat, his tail would be lashing in silent fury. “Look, maybe i can just blast the door,”

 “No. It’s trapped. You really are no good at spotting these things, are you?” 

 She throws her head back at his mocking tone, swallowing her own irritation, when she spots something.

 “Hey…”

 The vampire ignores her, skulking away already.

“Astarion?”

 He stops with a stomp. “What?”

“Did you read that book? The one I gave you?”

She can feel his intense gaze on her, puzzling over her. In her peripheral, he follows her gaze and looks up. The bars reach almost to the high ceilings, but there, near the top, there is a gap.

 “What are you thinking?” He asks, releasing a long sigh.

 “Can you spider climb?”

 “Ugh, this again-”

“Astarion have you even tried?” She levels him with a firm stare and he falters.

“Well, no-”

“Are you hungry?”

He freezes. Slowly meeting her eyes with some lingering trepidation.

He really is like a cat.

“Do you think you could do it if you feed?”

 His eyes dart to the barely-healed marks on her neck and she ignores the zip that his heated look sends up her spine.

 The vampire pauses, considering. “I would be willing to try it.” He says slowly, a silent question in his words.

 Oh. She had expected this, of course. But somehow, it still makes her flush.

She swallows.

 “You… You can feed on me, if you like.”

 His gaze darkens. He steps closer.

Bergamot.

 “If you’re sure, darling.” His voice is low and rough.

Rosemary.

She nods, resisting the urge to bite her lip. He taps a finger under her chin, tilting her face and leaning down.

Brandy.

“Use your words.” His breath ghosts over her skin.

 “Yes.” she whispers, and then his lips brush against her throat, hesitating for a heartbeat, allowing her this moment to change her mind. She holds still, only tipping her head to give him easier access.

 He hums his approval, gentle hands brushing her hair away, and then she gasps as his fangs sink into her neck, arms gripping her tight.

 Like the first time, it’s like ice, chilling and then numbing. Then it feels like she's floating. Her hands wind into his embroidered doublet, holding tight in an attempt to keep herself grounded while his arms snake around and hold her tightly, pressing her body against his and winding his fist into her violet locks.

 It feels… nice. Intimate, maybe. 

 She hears a soft groaning noise from her companion. Then a small moan. Heat sparks through her, even as her fingers start to grow cold.

 He’s been starving for years, she reminds herself, firmly, Of course he’ll enjoy a fresh meal. Although the thought of being meal did nothing for the heat rising to her cheeks.

 He drinks deeply, pulling her lifeblood into himself, savouring each mouthful, and right as her knees begin to go weak, he draws himself back.

 Those intense rubies bore into her, his face still so close. He drags his tongue over the wound, chasing the last drops of her blood, a final pleased groan escaping him, and a soft breathy whine leaves her lips unbidden.

 He looks more alive; there is a faint colour to his cheeks and the tips of his ears are tinted pink. He almost looks like he could be blushing.

 They stay that way for perhaps a moment too long, his arms slow as they release her, moving to her shoulders in an attempt to steady her. The whole time his eyes don't leave hers.

 He must be able to hear the erratic beat of her heart, she’s sure, and maybe she’s a little mortified. It is Morgana who looks away first, mumbling under her breath about the trail of red from the corner of his mouth.

 The vampire suddenly recoils back, as though uncomfortable with her proximity. His tongue darts out to lick up the stray line of blood and the tips of his ears flush a deeper pink.

 “I-” He clears his throat, regaining his composure, “thank you.”

 His attention pointedly turns to the wall, doubt still etched on his features.

 She watches him, wryly, trying to calm her racing pulse and quickly knocks back a healing potion, and gestures with the same hand towards the wall.

 “Well?”

He pouts - actually pouts at her - his mouth twisting into a grimace. “Are we sure spawn can just - walk on walls?”

 “Oh for the love of-” Morgana sighs deeply, one hand now cupping her neck and again waves the bottle as she speaks. “If it fails, I promise to catch you, ok?”

 One silver brow quirks up, and while he clearly still has his doubts, he resigns himself and tentatively places one foot on the wall.

 Then the other.

 She watches his face morph with surprise, and notes just how round his eyes are when he’s not frowning or flirting. It doesn’t take him long to get the hang of it, some excitement lighting his features as he scurries up the surface, over the bars and deftly snatches something from a pedestal on the other side.

 He returns moments later, hopping down in front of her and brandishing an aged ugly book. She cocks her head.

 “Can I see that?”

 Reluctantly, he hands it over.

 Malevolent magic oozes from the book, two large amethyst eyes on the cover boring into her soul, the wide gaping mouth with its uneven teeth appearing like a trapped scream. The book does not open. But the magic from it resonates in the air. She can feel its putrid pull, back out of the basement and not too far away.

 “There’s some sort of key nearby…” She mumbles, tracing her fingers over the leathery cover. 

 Astarion straightens beside her.

 “Well. We better go find it then.”

.

“There’s something down there?” Wyll peers over the edge of the well, eyeing the depths quizzically. “Are you sure?”

 Honestly, no, she wants to answer, but she can feel that chill touch of magic, the traces luring her down into the well.

 Her lips purse in thought.

 “Try throwing a gold piece down, we'll soon know what's at the bottom then.” She reasons. Astarion makes a disgruntled noise behind her.

 “A copper piece.” She amends. Karlach snickers.

 Wyll, good-natured as always, acquiesces in her request.

 The coin clinks down the well and makes a distinct thump shortly after.

 “It’s empty.” Wyll exclaims, “and not deep either.”

 They all look to her, and Morgana peers over the edge, noting iron rungs in the stone bricks. Steeling herself, she tugs her sleeves over her hands, swings her legs over the edge, and begins the climb down.

 It is dank and dark in the bottom of the well, the sounds of skittering in the distance make her skin crawl, but the magic pull is stronger here. Once again, she is grateful for her darkvision.

 And quickly remembers that at least one of her companions may not be able to see in the dark.

“Wyll,” she keeps her voice low, quiet, wary of the sounds echoing around them, “can you see alright?”

 By the tentative steps he takes to crouch beside her, she would wager that, no, he can't.

“Not as far as the rest of you, but I shall manage.” He responds.

 Karlach and Astarion come to crouch beside them, opposite in their countenance, Astarion’s stealth barely undermined by the soft glow of Karlachs engine.

“Stay close” Morgana tells him, the group steadily working their way into the cave as she follows the tug of necromancy and insatiable curiosity.

 She’s so absorbed in tracing the magic, not taking note of her surroundings, barring the chittering noises sending shivers up her spine, that she stumbles and her foot catches in a strange cocoon.

It’s only then, Wyll diving to help her, Astarion drawing his bow and Karlach brandishing her axe, that she notices the cobwebs surrounding them.

 Panic begins to swell in her chest, and she tugs her foot while Wyll slices through the cocoon. 

 Skittering sounds close in around them, the group staying tightly together. A shadow moves along the wall and Morgana swallows a shriek.

 Her leg finally free, she scrambles to her feet, hands crackling with power, but Wyll grasps her wrist. “The light will attract them.” He whispers, raising his rapier, then turns his head, concentrating, relying on his hearing over his limited vision.

 “Let’s just find this key, and hurry up and get out of here.” Astarion hisses.

 Morgana nods vehemently, squashing her magic down and tempering her impulse.

 Karlach hangs back, axe at the ready, maintaining steady breaths in an attempt to keep her flames down. They inevitably have to squash a couple of ettercaps, Astarion and Morgana hanging back with arrows and suppressed Eldritch Blasts, Wyll fighting alongside Karlach in her flamed fury, cleaving through them, and the few larger spiders that inevitably draw near.

 It seems for a moment as though no more are coming. 

 Until skittering noises rush close and Morgana almost screams.

 If not for the cool hand clapped over her mouth, and yanking her back into the shadows, out of sight. Her heart hammers in her chest, the worm suddenly squirming and Astarion’s voice whispers into her mind at the time as her back is flattened against him.

 “Keep. Still.”

She does. She doesn’t dare to move. Fear spikes through her and she holds her breath.

 Slowly, slowly, the sounds fade, and Astarion releases her, and she gasps, her hands trembling. She whirls to face him, and his eyes drop down. Confused, her own eyes follow to the blade in her trembling hand.

 It’s the first time she’s unsheathed her dagger since waking up on the beach.

 She drops it as though it burns her.

 They both stare at the ornate dagger for a moment, before she snatches it up and quickly re-sheaths it.

 “Th… Thank you.” She says. She brushes herself off, avoiding looking at the vampire, even as his questioning eyes linger, instead scanning for their two horned companions, spotting them a little ways away, wiping off their weapons.

 She waves them over.

 “I don’t think it's far now. Let’s just get this over with.”

 They follow behind her as she follows the trail. Around a corner, she spots it; a pulsing purple gem, seeping with necromancy. 

 But then, just above it, her eyes land on the largest spider she’s ever seen in her life, and all of its many eyes land on her.

 “♐︎◆︎♍︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎●︎⬧︎!” She swears in sylvan, and unleashes an eldritch blast.

.

The arachnid matriarch is dead. It must be. Morgana has unloaded three more blasts to its foetid corpse, and when she’s finally certain the bug is definitely dead, she spins on her heels, trips, and unceremoniously heaves, emptying her stomach's contents.

 “Ugh, charming…” 

Without looking, she flips off the grimacing vampire.

 “You doing ok over there, soldier?”

 Morgana retches again, unable to answer Karlach right away, hands now braced on her knees. The warmth from Karlachs hands hovers just over back, offering what little comfort she can without burning her.

 Coughing and gagging, Morgana takes a deep breath, filling her lungs, and finally straightens herself up.

 “Thanks Karlach, I just -” She gulps down another deep breath, this time reaching for her water skin, “I just really hate spiders.”

Wyll guffaws a laugh and quickly covers it with a cough, though his expression still shines with thinly-veiled amusement. Karlach grins.

 “Well! Let’s get out of here and get you some fresh air, eh!”

 She nods her agreement, noting that the purple gem is no longer on the floor, but she can still sense its power looming from the pale elf innocuously dusting himself off and with a minute shake of her head, she trails after Karlach towards the exit.

.

The fresh air does wonders for Morgana’s lingering nausea. Not so much for the clammy uncomfortable feeling of her padded armour sticking to her skin. She wrinkles her nose in distaste.

 “Have we searched all the buildings here?” She asks aloud, turning her head to Karlach. 

 “There’s a few older houses over here, they had some new-looking chests in them.”

 They both turn their heads expectantly to Astarion. Morgana’s mouth twitches into a sly grin.

 “You did say that I can't pick a lock earlier.”

He scowls. “Fine! But if there’s anything valuable, I want the first pick.”

 She chuckles and nods, and so that's how Astarion ends up lockpicking several trunks and chests, making unimpressed quips about how a few had nothing of value, finally stalking off with a huff to find Wyll when he’s done.

 Morgana and Karlach rummage through the chests. She picks a plain looking trunk, and unceremoniously upturns it, emptying its contents, when a flash of violet catches her eye. The half-elf pauses. The trunk did seem new, and it had been sealed, and there’s no musty smell emanating from the garment when she picks it up and examines it.

 “... Hey, Karlach?”

 “Hm?” The tiefling’s head pops up.

 “The area is clear now, right? We can take a break?”

“We cleared out goblins yesterday and now with those beasties today, i don’t see why not -”

 “Good. Keep watch for me for a moment.” Morgana interrupts and quickly strips herself of her padded armour, yanking it over her head and discarding it, ignoring the fresh air on her clammy skin and squirms into the new item, tugging it down. 

 “Holy shit. Your tits look great in that!” Karlach exclaims and Morgana bursts out laughing, smoothing her hands over the corset-esque top and flushing at the sight of her rather ample cleavage.

 “Hells, they don't look too showy, do they?” She laughs nervously.

 Karlach beams at her. “If you've got it, may as well show it off! Though I have to wonder where you've been hiding them!”

Morgana flushes, laughing awkwardly. The garment really does emphasise her assets. She was already somewhat well-endowed, and now, 

 “I look like I’m displaying goods for sale…”

“You look great!” Karlach chortles, “Now come on, Wyll will have lunch ready!”

…

Their lunch should have been uneventful. Or at least, it would have been not for their unwelcome visitor.

 “A devil?! It's bad enough we have worms in our heads, and now there’s a devil after us?!” Astarion splutters.

 “You can’t trust a word he says -” Karlach starts, ferociously.

“There is no good to come of dealing with a devil!” Wyll asserts.

“Let’s just get back to the others,” Morgana reasons, gathering up their things, and ushering them back to camp.

 The whole way, both Wyll and Karlach urge caution with Raphael, the newly acquainted devil in question, each recounting their own less-than-stellar experiences with devils and fiends. 

She allows the pair to take charge in recounting the meeting when they reunite with the rest of their camp. Although first, Lae’zel assess Morgana’s new clothes with the exacting opinion she’s come to expect.

 “This outfit offers no protection. You may not wield a sword, but you still join us in battle.” The warrior assesses, “Although. It certainly adds to your charm. You look… nice.”

 Morgana is briefly taken aback. Regardless, she thanks the warrior, who merely nods her reply and briskly adds that she expects Morgana to join her in weapons training soon, to which Morgana insists she will practise in preparation.

 After today, having to temper her powers to minimise discovery, perhaps she does need to be able to use her weapon when magic is out of the question.

On that note, the warlock glances around, noting her companions in deep discussion regarding the devil. All barring one.

 She knows where to find him, because despite his stealth, he still has the gem on his person and she can follow the magic emanating from it.

 The vampire is sitting beside the river, just on the bank, away from the camp. She approaches him quietly, and when he briefly acknowledges her presence without asking her to leave, she sits beside him.

 They stay in silence for a while, and she wonders when he changed into his camp clothes, watching him observe the river flowing by.

 The half-elf speaks first.

 “So, you might be needing a creepy skin-bound book to go with that eerie jewel in your pocket.”

 His mouth quirks up, amused. “I don’t know what you mean, darling. This is a perfectly good eerie jewel all on its own, don’t you agree?” He produces the amethyst with a flourish, side-eyeing her, and with a flick of his dexterous wrist, it disappears again.

She shakes her head with a smile. “You seemed interested in it, so I left it in your tent on my way by. Just. Be careful. Necromancy is powerful stuff.”

 He scoffs, waving her off. “Oh please, darling, it might have something helpful for an undead like myself. I’d be a fool to pass up that kind of power.”

 She just shrugs, turning back to the river.

 After another beat, she asks him, “Will you spar with me?”

 “Teach you a few little tricks, you mean?” He says suggestively.

 “Honestly, you are such a flirt.”

 “Only with you, you sweet, generous thing.” His silken admission ignites a spark under her skin, and he smirks knowingly.

 In a blink, he rises with all the grace and skill of a practised performer, flicking a dagger free from his waist. Morgana rises to her own feet, inelegantly, and fidgets with her rings, blinking up at Astarion.

 Pointedly, he looks at her still-sheathed blade at her hip. 

“Nach tarraing thu d’airm?” [Will you not draw your weapon?]

She bites her lip. She swallows. Her eyes dart away.

 “Could I borrow one of yours? Mas e do thoil e?” [please?]

 Astarion hums, considering and tilting his chin. “Alright,” he concedes, “dèan gàire orm an uairsin. Carson nach cleachd thu am biodag?” [Humor me then. Why don't you use the dagger?]

 He tosses his blade to her, and she stumbles to catch it, having been mentally translating his Elvish question. He comes at her quickly, swinging a blade with careful precision, and she jerks backwards, thrusting the borrowed blade up with both hands to defend.

 The vampire clicks his tongue, effortlessly batting her away, and holding his own under her chin.

 Just how many times is he going to get a knife to my throat?

He’s watching her expectantly.

She swallows and her throat bobs against the tip of the blade as she does. She licks her lips, readying the words. She speaks slowly, disjointed.

 “B’ e a’ chiad mharbhadh a bh’ agam. Rinn mi na bha agam ri dhèanamh.” [It was my first kill. I did what I had to.]

 Keen red eyes blink with interest.

 “Your pronunciation is awful, darling.” He sighs dramatically, “and your form is simply terrible. A bheil fios agad eadhon mar a chumas tu lann?” [Do you even know how to hold a blade?]

Shame colours her cheeks. “No.” She mutters, momentarily deflating. Then she stands up straighter and squares her shoulders, determined.

“Sin as coireach gu bheil mi ag iarraidh ort teagasg dhomh.” [That’s why I’m asking you to teach me.]

“Better.” His fangs catch the light with his grin. He raises his hand, demonstrating. “Like this, darling.”

 He gives her a moment, watching how those silver eyes scrutinise his hold, his grip, and then she mimics him. She nods. He rushes her again, but this time, she manages to deflect. It’s sloppy, he notes, but with a bit more practice, she can parry effectively.

 “Tha thu nad neach-ionnsachaidh luath.” [You’re a fast learner.]

Her face lights up at his praise. She’s actually enjoying herself. Elvish is much easier to speak when she doesn’t have the time to think about it, she discovers. As for wielding a dagger, it takes concentration, and practice, and by the end of their little training session, she’s more capable of defending herself. And speaking more naturally in Elvish. A double lesson.

 Despite how much skin she has exposed, his blade has not touched her skin once, though, she supposes, Astarion is just that skilled with a blade. It was intentional that he didn't catch or nick her.

 She hands his dagger back to him, chest heaving as she catches her breath. He gives her that signature smirk, taking it back with a thanks.

“You never mentioned that you can speak silvan.”

 Oh? 

“I didn’t.” She answers levelly.

“How is it that a little half-human like yourself is fully fluent in silvan, but not elvish?” He folds his arms, tilting his head with curiosity.

 Morgana laughs breathily. “Fae stuff.”

“Well darling, you shall simply have to tell me more next time we have one of these little… study sessions.” 

 She smiles filled with mirth and amusement. “It’s a date.”