#(BUT LIKE @ GHOST GAME you had to 'trap' them THIS WAY so she could have some focus?!??!)

[thelonelyshore-if]

Meet me at the cabin. Please.

You weren’t sure what to make of it. A cryptic late night text sent from your younger sibling, begging you to meet up at your family’s old lake home. The plea for help was as concerning as it was confusing. As far as you knew, neither of you had set foot in the cabin in a decade. You had your hesitations, but Willow seemed desperate. You couldn’t help but oblige.

Everything goes downhill fast when Willow's research into childhood ghost stories lands you in a town that doesn't exist. A town where people go missing at an alarming rate, where things that aren't quite human run businesses with hungry eyes, where time runs differently.

A town you can't leave. 

Something about Easthaven is wrong. A supernatural fog permeates the town, so thick you could choke…but you’re one of the only people who seems to notice it. You’re quick to realize the fog keeps the residents ignorant, keeps them passive, keeps them trapped. When people who have long since gone missing start coming back home, you realize Easthaven’s mysteries go deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Explore the magic and the horrors of the small town of Easthaven, team up with the few others who can see through the fog, and do everything you can to make your way back home.

The Lonely Shore is an 18+ supernatural horror story (and mystery) inspired by works such as Midnight Mass, The Mist, Scarlet Hollow, and Gravity Falls. A story about how sometimes places can feel like people, how easy it is to do terrible things for those we love, and how small towns have a way of eating you alive.

FEATURES:

Play as male, female, or nonbinary; trans or cis. Choose up to two sets of pronouns or input your own. Customize your appearance and develop your personality throughout the game. 

Romance or befriend a cast of characters. Options for ace and aro routes, as well as three polyamorous paths.

Customize Willow, your younger sibling. Select their gender and determine what your relationship with them is. Will you rebuild a broken relationship? Or let a good one go down in flames?

Explore the world of Easthaven, a town that exists outside of time, separated completely from the rest of the world. A place where tragedy is mundane and death is around every corner. Encounter the Fog, the source of all of Easthaven’s horrors.

Build up to one of five distinct magic styles as your character comes to life; including necromancy, clairvoyance, manipulating the Fog, becoming something monstrous–or suppressing your magic instead, having it come out in uncontrollable bursts.

Solve the mystery of the Returned: citizens who have been missing for months, years, decades but who have recently started coming back home.

CHARACTERS:

Jaylen 'Jay' Jones (M/F)

A veterinarian-in-training and member of the town's Search & Rescue team who has seen Easthaven's horrors firsthand. A kindhearted but wary person who cares more about keeping people safe than they do about solving the town's mysteries. They're tired of losing people.

Yasmin Bakir-King (F)

The local librarian, a fiercely clever widow with very little patience for nonsense. Very outgoing, she's one of the most well-known figures in town. She starts the story unaware of Easthaven's dangers but very quickly gets thrust into the middle of the town's latest mystery.

Amir/Amara "Croft" (M/F)

A reclusive, ill-tempered horror author who just so happens to be the town's latest newcomer…until you show up. Croft came to town with their share of secrets, and there's nothing in the world they want more than to escape Easthaven.

Beck Dawn (genderfluid)

Fun-loving and reckless, Beck is an adrenaline junkie who can't seem to stay out of danger…despite being completely unaware of the town's secrets. A magnet for trouble, it's no surprise Beck lands right in the middle of Easthaven's latest mystery.

Ravi Singh (M)

Easthaven's local mortician. Ravi is easygoing and quick to laugh; though sometimes his humor leans towards the macabre. But his easy smiles don't cover up his almost chilling comfort with the Fog; nor do they get rid of the pile of skeletons in his closet.

Perri Loveless (M/F/NB)

Runs one of Easthaven's three radio stations. In the day they play music, and at night they host a supernatural-themed call in radio show, The Lonely Shore. Perri is an enthusiastic (if a bit awkward) person whose theories tend towards the unbelievable. It's unfortunate that, despite all of their theories, Perri has no idea what's actually going on in Easthaven.

And…

"Willow" (M/F/NB)

Your little sibling. Flighty, impulsive, and outgoing; their fascination with the occult is what lands you in Easthaven. Your relationship can range from best friends to sworn enemies. Will they be able to save you from the mess they've made?

LINKS:

DEMO | ROs | Content Warnings

( current wordcount : 225,095 without code )

[charliedawn]

slashers(Jason,Michael and Brahms only) with beautiful undead yet friendly bride Reader who is like Emily(from Corpse Bride) and She refers them as Her "Victor" (btw,are you fan of Tim Burton? if not then that's okay)

(Here you go ! Thank you for the request and indeed, I am a big fan of Tim Burton. Hope you’ll like it 👍)

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was scared half-to-death (see what I did there ? 😂) when he saw that rotten bride just sprang out from the very earth he usually buries the bodies of his victims in. Not gonna lie, he kinda ran back to his cabin when he saw you—‘cause if his mama taught him anything ? It was that dead people don’t come back to life for no good reason. The poor boy locked himself up twice. But, it wasn’t enough to stop you. You eventually came in and started haunting him. He tried to shoo you away at first because Jason likes his loneliness, his space. Actually, he doesn’t like people in general—dead or alive. So, Jason tried everything to get rid of you. He swung his axe at you and tried to catch you or trap you, but all his efforts were fruitless. He finally gave up and let you haunt him. But, he didn’t regret it. As you are a ghost, you could guard his home and warn him of any danger nearby. It was nice having someone watching over his back for once.

…But then, you saw it.

The machete that killed you.

On his wall.

You looked back at Jason and your undead heart squeezed in your chest. Had he…? Was he the one who had killed you ? On your wedding day nonetheless ? Wasn’t he your Victor ? And if not. Who was he ?

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms likes to play pretend. He dreamt of having that special someone he could one day propose to and have his happy ever after moment. He was thinking about it and had one of those gummy rings he had saved from his snack time. He was in the forest and had decided to have himself a little repetition for the unforeseeable future and that’s when he saw one peculiar branch that looked like a finger. He didn’t think more about it and did his little game of pretending…and when he put the ring on the finger. Well…He certainly didn’t expect some half-rotten bride to spurt out of the earth and shout:

"I DO."

But it did. That happened. And then, you wouldn’t leave him—not that he minded. Far from it. He was happy to have a wife (even though the kisses and hugs were a lil’ cold) He wondered about telling people about his…well…new ‘bride’. But, he thought better of it when he realised how lonely and sad you were. It didn’t matter that you called him Victor. Or Marvin. Or Hector. Or Derek for that matters…He would take any name if it meant you would stay and love him. And you had said ‘I do’. No takebacksies now.

Michael Myers:

Michael was confused when he first saw you sprang up from the earth. Weird. His victims usually stayed dead. He tried to stab you but…Oops. Already dead. He quickly realised that you must be like Jack Torrance—a ghost. He also understood that stabbing you would be a waste of time. He tried to ignore you, but you would then appear at random times and tell him that you were married and that he was your Victor. As Michael doesn’t speak, he couldn’t rectify you.

Hence, he became ‘Victor’ to you.

At the end, he learnt to tolerate your presence. Especially at night when he would normally sleep alone with his regrets, he would feel your hand stroking his head and your voice singing him lullabies…Maybe having a dead bride wouldn’t be that bad…?

One day, you showed him an old picture of you. He looked at it and you could see that something was bothering him. You asked him about it, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell you he remembered you. He didn’t tell you he remembered your wide frightened eyes when he plunged his knife deep into your heart the day you were supposed to marry…or the way he mercilessly beheaded your betrothed.

That was a story he would rather never share with you.

[big-tiddy-bi]

This is part 2 of the Danny yelling at the justice league fic. It was going to be a one shot but @phoenixdemonqueen called one of the lines I wrote cool, and I started squealing, flapping my arms and jumping around my kitchen so I had to write more <3 also hydrate or  diedrate

Tw for body horror, idk if it counts but better safe than sorry <3

——————

Greek mythology has many myths on of which is Theseus and Pirithous. Pirithous full of hubris decided, with the help of Theseus to kidnap the goddess Kore and try to forcefully marry her. Before they can enact this honestly genius plan, that was sarcasm by the way, her husband traps them in chairs with snakes and leaves them there for the furies to torture.

Most stories have a lesson And the lesson of this one is very important. Don’t Be Stupid, Stupid. 

Currently John Constantine was trying and failing to tell the justice league. “Are you fucking stupid” and deadman told them “to fight someone from the infinite realms is suicidal”.

After Danny’s stunt most of the non-magical justice league wanted to hunt him down to “set the record straight”, when they said that John and deadman left the room.

On the day the justice league stated in the email, they stood at a sign stating “welcome to Amity, the most haunted place in America”.

One of the most loved groups of people, the justice league walked through the city like ghosts. They were used to stairs and whispers, but usually of worship and maybe small insults but not like this. Could feel the distain in the air, like the city itself was trying to strangle them.

A tall blonde teen in a varsity jacket screamed at them to leave, that they weren’t wanted, but with much more explicit language.

Flash tried to make a joke, and the resulting glare from the rest of the league could have killed him on the spot, and several of the residents through things at him after they heard him.

They walked up to the building that held mayor’s office. Batman’s face was unreadable, unlike Superman’s whose expression told all his feelings of worry.

In the building they heard several voices, on of which matched phantom, ridiculing the mayor. Who just kept sighing in utter annoyance.

Wonder Woman opened the door to the office to be met with a comedic scene. Phantom floating in one corner of the room flipping of the mayor, who was also flipping him off in return. A goth girl with vine tattoos trailing from her wrist up her arms was slipping some papers onto the table, with the title mandatory vegan in bold letters while the mayor was distracted. two boys one with a tattoo around his eye similar to the eye of Ra, the other had on a shirt that said “I know all your secret identities, don’t test me” both sitting on beanbags playing a video game that was projected on of the walls of the office. one girl with beautiful curly hair was coming through the window arms filled with take out bags, a couple from a Chinese restaurant and the others a fast food place. A woman with red hair was helping her in, holding a tray full of drinks.

All of them turned their heads in unison, phantom and the two tattooed individuals eyes glowing green. the mayor and the redheaded woman’s glowed green.

The window person finished coming through, and set the bags down on the mayor’s desk next to the drinks. The pulled a toxic green knife from behind her back, the redhead woman got into a defensive position her cheeks torn open so she could her hundreds of teeth, razor sharp. The mayor leaned forward in his chair, placing a hand on his desk, mouth turned up in a grin, showing of his sharp canines.

The red headed boy quickly moved to the back of the room, while his video game partner stood up, holes appearing on his body, one of his eyes rolling back into his head leaving another hole, all dripping with sand. The goth woman slowly grew liken and moss in her shoulders, it slowly crawled up one side of her face, she opened her mouth and vines sprung from it, wrapping around her head ripping her skin a flower came out replacing her face.

Phantom was the worst, he grew into a vaguely human shape thousands of mouths opened up on his body, some in other places around the room.

Phantom asked in a distorted voice “ were our warnings not enough for you?”

Batman spoke up “we came here to” but he was interrupted.

The sand being spoke this time. Angerly “ to gravel at our feet for forgiveness, to beg in a futile attempt to win back fame?”

Batman responded again “no, we are here” but he was interrupted again this time by the flower woman

“Without our permission, without the permission of the public, you governed by none.” The flower petals began to pulse “ you who could be saving people, come here to plead like dogs praying for table scraps” she yelled.

“We are here to talk” Batman finally got to say.

The redheaded boy responded this time. “ Bruce Wayne, these actions are unbecoming of you”

The entire justice league was taken aback. “Don’t be surprised” the redheaded woman said “you and your kin’s bodies may be living, but you belong to death the same as us”

“Let’s hear them out” the mayor said “after that you can end them in anyway you wish” he was bluffing of course, none of the heroes on team phantom would ever kill someone, but the justice league didn’t need to know that.

The curly haired woman spoke “ so, if you want to talk then talk”

Superman answered this time “ we never got your messages, we only found them while cleaning out the servers”

What sounded like every voice ever heard replied “what do you mean” the voice, voices? Sounded surprised.

“Exactly that” Wonder Woman answered.

“Someone hacked into our system and deliberately hid all communications from amity” the flash continued

Phantom appeared behind Batman. Intangible hand going into his throat and wrapping around his trachea “if you are lying, I will destroy each of your families”

Phantom floated through Batman to get back in front. In the blink of an eye everyone was back to normal.

“Tell us about this breach” the mayor said crossing his arms. “ so we can take care of it”

————————-

Tell me what you think <3 this is my first part two

@skulld3mort-1fan @mynameisnotlaura @justwannabecat @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @thegatorsgoose @yjfk @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @iglowinggemma28 @bleuyellow93 @aconitewolfsbane @fox-sama97 @catmeowbored @stargirl1331





[elsfleur]

⋆·˚ ༘ * COOL ABOUT IT

ellie williams x reader

summary: it was an odd thing to enjoy your work, but with a passion for music and a fling with your coworker the days at the record store seemed bright, until of course you meet her girlfriend.

content warning: use of substances like weed, somewhat established relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of nsfw content, somewhat angsty

word count: 1,432 and part two found here

📼 ʾ ⠀

the employee’s room smelled perpetually of weed and sandalwood cologne in her grace, and you watched as the girl you’ve grown to adore pressed down your herbs along her pot with a concerned expression at the jasmines and chamomile tainting her trusted old smoke, eyebrows furrowed.

“this is the girliest shit i’ve ever rolled in my life”

“shut the fuck up, williams” you reprimended, not missing the way her iris sparkled with amusement, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips displaying the softest of creases by her cheek.

ellie rolled her eyes before finally turning them to take you in, she had grown accustomed to mapping you out in her head as one would dissect a drawing, memorising the curves and angles effortlessly until your features sneaked their way into her mindless sketching, ripping out the pages in embarrassment. the stars were back beneath her lids as she maintained eye contact while licking on the silk paper painfully slowly, a pathetic tease.

“pretty girls first” she motioned you the blunt and leaned back on the couch to grab your hidden lighter by the r&b records’ archives, the hem of her shirt lifting up with the movement to expose pale skin begging to be painted red in suction, though you brushed away the filthy thoughts as to not feed into her ego, placing the silk between your lips as she lit it up for you, inhaling floral and exhaling smoke directly at her face, watching her pretty features get fogged away.

“it’s medicinal, just so you know” you defended the frilly choices “supposed to help with anxiety and sleep”

“yes, doctor!” she saluted taking the blunt from between your fingers and inhaling herself, letting go towards the ceiling “nothing like taking a good sleeping agent in the middle of a work shift, our boss must be so proud”

you fell into a comfortable rhythm of silence, passing the silk back and forth until it inevitably burned your fingers to a halt. ellie was staring again, this time against her own will. she enjoyed the way you puckered up and your cheeks flushed at the drug effect, watching your eyes get glossy and your attitude brighter, enjoyed your hands and calluses grabbing on to the very last inch possibly smoked of the substance, your hair and its natural cascade, your twitchy nose to the scent. she had sketched you eight times the night before without real attempt, feeling as though trapped by a love curse at your sight, her brain escaped to you like a boat finding lighthouse.

“why are you all the way over there” she questioned your distance on the couch, though barely even half a metre away, you knew instinctively what game she was playing with the innocent phrase.

“i told you i am not kissing you again until you play something for me, it is already betrayal enough you have heard me boast about how i want the new guitar we’re selling to learn without telling me you could play it”

“i’m really not that good”

“does it genuinely look like i care?”

she thought for a second before giving in with a sigh, heading out the door towards the empty store’s front and carrying back the black dyed instrument with her onto the seating, significantly closing the previous gap between you. ellie found your anticipating gaze once more, the ghost of a smile hovering over her lips so softly it was barely recognizable though you both knew, silently. her tattooed arm made its way to the front of the guitar, playing on the chords to confirm tuning before she fully began playing to you, a love song being quietly hummed under her breath just enough for you to make out certain words.

once finished, her hands lightly trembled in anxiety before gathering up courage to look at you, enthralled by her performance in a way the jokes you anticipated making and snarky retorts dissipated into thin air, mouth agape and too slow to notice her ego boost at your sight.

“you want me so bad right now” she smirked earning a playful slap to the arm in response that evoked melodic laughter to echo through the whole room loudly.

“fuck you” you replied before shutting her up with a kiss, soft lips pressed against her chapped ones. she moved the guitar away as best she could without breaking your contact, letting it drop on the carpet with a surprisingly loud bang that was anyhow disregarded as she snaked her arms over your waist pulling you to her lap. you grazed your teeth over her bottom lip before pulling it softly, her low whimper making it known who truly controlled the situation though her fingertips rose under your t-shirt to the clasp of your bra with familiar ease. you chuckled into the kiss at her desperation.

“who wants who so bad again?” you teased in a whisper, taking her palm into your own and pulling it up to cup your breast, your moans mixing into each other's at the new sensation.

“please” she begged doe-eyed and you nodded raising your arms up to help her remove it and toss it aside before working her tongue down your neck and onto your nipples, she sucked so forcefully you felt your eyes roll back while her left hand grabbed your other neglected breast before switching focuses.

you faintly heard the ringing of bells beneath the heavy breathing that filled the room and pushed ellie’s head away from your body, her eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted at your reaction in a way that sent shivers up your spine “there’s a customer” you explained letting loose of her grip and searching around for your clothes.

“i’ll take it it’s fine, at least i’m dressed” she joked standing up and going into the main room with a vocally cleared throat and smoothed out uniform.

minutes passed and ellie still wasn’t back, that’s when you made your way towards the entrance as well and watched as a flustered ellie insisted a customer go home. you watched the interaction unnoticed as long as you could, but the black haired girl soon caught on to your staring and smiled apologetically as a greeting, causing ellie to turn around and face you with a gulp.

“is… everything okay here?” you questioned.

“hi! i’m cat, ellie’s girlfriend” the customer introduced herself with an extended hand you did not take as you stared between her and the girl you’ve been having an affair with for the last six months and you have grown to consider a friend, fuck, more than that, so much more than that. her silence to the interaction hit you like a bullet.

“oh i’m sorry, how stupid” you faked a smile shaking her hand “i didn’t know ellie had a girlfriend, is that new?”

“well if you think three years is new” the girl giggled.

“yeah, no, we’re not really uh close so i wouldn’t know, congratulations on three years or something”

“cat, shouldn’t you be getting home? we’re about to close up here” ellie interrupted and the girl though furrowing her brows nodded before pressing a kiss to her lips and wishing you both an uncomfortable goodbye before skipping out the store, wind blowing through it with the opened door that made you as cold as you felt interrupting ellie’s attempt at a sentence.

“it’s cool” you said with your hand up, stopping her words until you fully watched cat’s silhouette be far away enough from the store “i was just a fuck right? not enough to ruin a three year relationship over, i won’t tell, anyways shift’s over so”

“angel, listen-“

“don’t fucking call me that?” you spat out unnerved “whatever this was ellie, or actually scratch that–, i’m sorry i apologise for thinking this was something when it clearly isn’t now you can stop with the pet names and whatever other antiques you’re thinking of pulling and save them for your girlfriend”

you rushed to the employee’s room, tripped on the guitar and cursed out loud your pain while jumping on the single good foot you now had towards your backpack, ready to leave. you do not listen to a word ellie says while walking out, you do not wait nor do you turn around. you do not see the tears that spill from her eyes like open faucets, the sob that stuck to her throat weighing down like a rock, the four words that came out way too late in a whisper not even the records could hear: but i love you.

[kit-foley]

Nancy Drew Games are 50% off on Steam right now so here are some shitty descriptions of the games for newbies or partners (not in order, also spoilers)

Secrets can kill: dickface high schooler was pushed down a flight of stairs, find out who did it

The Silent Spy: Nancy has mommy issues and cosplays as a spy in Scotland

Sea of Darkness: all of the characters have trauma around a ship. featuring the only canonically queer character.

Deadly Device: tech bro gets electrocuted, who did it oh noooo. Feat: women in stem

Midnight in Salem: Glitch-wise, this is the fandom-equivalent of the first release of FNAF Security Breach but doesn’t nearly slay as hard and they didn’t patch any of the bugs. Haven’t played it but the fandom is 50/50 on it, maybe 80/20 against

Shattered Medallion: off brand amazing race goes wrong, feat. A recurring character who you’re supposed to know

Alibi in Ashes: Nancy didn’t commit arson (this time) so who the fuck did? See also, “I can commit major theft and prod you about your dead mom, but I draw the line at arson.”

The Captive Curse: monster and intergenerational trauma, beautifully told story. Plus lederhosen.

Shadow at the Waters Edge: ghosts and intergenerational trauma, beautifully told story. Plus kawaii

Ghost of Thornton hall; ghosts and intergenerational trauma, beautifully told story. Plus southern people.

The Final Scene: nancys friend who we’ve never met gets kidnapped. Plus magic tricks/Houdini. Plus old man.

The Haunted Carousel: Dead mom plus the most annoying daughter you’ll ever encounter and her emotional support robot. Also you’re supposed to fix a theme park

Danger by Design: Parisian fashion designer with anger issues and also might deny that nazis happened during wwii

Curse of blackmoor manor: British girl says oh no my stepmom is turning into a werewolf

Warnings at Waverly Academy; the trailer for this one said something like “I hang out with teenage girls in this one, it could be my scariest case yet”, basically be prepared to do other students homework. Also immaculate dark academia/fall vibes tho

Phantom of Venice: white boy of the month shows you his seven hour tesserae slideshow and you single-handedly bring down a crime ring while wearing stupid outfits

Trail of the Twister: someone is sabotaging a storm chasing team but Nancy cares more about asking the local general store owner about his dead wife

Secret of the Old Clock: It’s magically 1930 again, this game feels so far off brand from pretty much all of the other ones imo but the music goes HARD and there’s def some homoerotic tensions between a dead old man and his live-in psychic

Legend of the Crystal Skull: make a curio shop owner sneeze, collect glass eyeballs, watch a Gerard Way look-alike cry, and maybe get buried alive

Haunting of Castle Malloy: banshees and letterpress and a pub that conveniently only serves juice. Terrible Irish accents. Try to find a missing groom for a wedding but also enjoy a walking sim that walked so Stardew Valley could run

Creature of Kapu Cave: get stuck in a tourist trap resort by a guy who calls himself Big Island Mike, then get stuck in a forest with an entomologist who makes you do her work for her, then get stuck in a research facility with an angry white guy who makes you do his work and then falls asleep. Music slaps but no idea what the plot of the game is supposed to be. Also do a “freaky friday” style switch with the Hardy Boys every time you call them on your cell phone.

Last train to Blue Moon canyon: picture Paris Hilton inviting you on a train and then she goes missing. Also on the train with you: the worst police detective, Zak Bagans impersonator, and Colleen Hoover-vibes.

White Wolf of Icicle Creek: “I fired. And I missed. I missed again. I got sad. I had a popsicle.”

[amazingmsme]

The Boo Brothers

AN: Late, I know, but class doesn’t get out til 9. This prompt was really fun to write! Peter & Miguel are really goofy & I just love them. How you enjoy day 10!

Peter B. Parker was a class A goofball. He liked playing games and being silly, but most importantly, he liked making people laugh and have some fun. And he was damn good at it.

Halloween always put him in a bit of a spunky mood, and he felt inspired to cause a little mischief. Maybe the chill in the air put a spring in his step, or the fun and spooky atmosphere reminded him of his love of lighthearted pranks. Whatever it was, he felt the need to pull one over on someone. He was walking down the hall when he passed an open door and saw the usual spider-gang hanging out in the wreck room: perfect.

The idea popped up so suddenly and without any preamble, that it nearly startled Peter. But he shoved his hands into his robe pockets and casually strolled in, going along with it as if he'd had this plan all along. He had a natural commitment to any bit tossed his way the likes of which you have never seen.

That is not to say that the others don't know when he's doing a bit. Quite the contrary. It is rather obvious when Peter begins some long winded ruse, but everyone is too interested in where he's going with it to put an end to it.

He flopped his right hand around in his pocket, wiggling fingers, anything he could to make it look like something was caught in there. Pavitr was the first to take notice, doing a double take when he noticed the frantic movement of his pocket and stared with wide eyes.

"Dude, what's going on with your pocket? Did you catch a squirrel or something?" he asked, drawing the rest of their attention to Peter, and now they all wanted to know what the hell he had in his pocket. Peter played along.

"Heh, no. I wish it were that simple," he said in a serious tone. He schooled his features, lunging a trapped hand at Gwen, who happened to be the closest. She squealed and jumped back as Peter reigned in his arm.

"What the hell Peter?" she asked, cheeks faintly flushed. He did his best to act apologetic.

"I'm sorry, but that's why I came to see you," he said, clutching onto his right wrist with his other hand, forcing it to stay inside the pocket. They all stared at him with confused looks.

"I'm sorry, what?" Gwen asked, arms crossed. Peter rolled his eyes, as if annoyed he had to explain himself.

"Um, look, I'll just cut to the chase. Ghosts and demons and stuff are cool now, right? And you guys are all pretty cool kids, so you're keeping with the trends-" he rambled. Miles furrowed his brows in worry and utter cluelessness, looking to Hobie for any indication of what the actual fuck he was talking about. Hobie arched a brow and shrugged, sporting an amusedly confused smirk. "I guess what I'm trying to ask is, do you guys know anything about possession?"

Gwen scoffed. "You think you're possessed?" she asked skeptically.

“Absolutely! And I’d appreciate it if you took this seriously,” he said, really hamming it up. “I mean, if you don’t believe me, just look!” He “released” his hand from the robe pocket and it made another grab at Gwen, this time being successful. He latched onto her sides and squeezed, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“You liahahar!” she squealed, doubling over as Peter scribbled over her tummy.

“Nu uh!” Peter insisted, continuing the ticklish assault. “See, it happened after MJ got me last night. My hands have been restless ever since,” he lamented, working up Gwen’s sides. “I’m afraid I’m possessed by some kind of tickle monster!”

“You ahahare not!” she denied. Hobie shrugged, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“Don’t know mate, seems legit to me,” he teased. Peter smirked himself and turned on the tallest teen, making him stumble back with a yelp. He managed to wrestle his arms above his head, alternating scribbling in each pit.

“I just can’t help who I attack! Sorry Hobie, I really can’t help it!”

“Shuhut it you bahahastard!”

“Hey, I’m just as much a victim in this as you are!”

Miguel stood in the doorway, dumbfounded, and crossed his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat, grabbing their attention.

“Is there a reason you’re torturing them, or are you just bored?” he asked in a neutral tone, arching a brow.

“Peter’s possessed by a tickle monster!” Pavitr supplied. Miguel couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough.

“Is he now?” he asked, seemingly uninterested. “Well I guess I’ll leave you all to it.” He turned to leave and felt a hand around his wrist yank him back. He stumbled a few feet, being caught by Peter from behind.

“Sorry bud, but I can’t help myself right now,” he said sympathetically as Miguel hissed and thrashed in his hold. He tried to fight back the deep laughter that wanted to spill out when Peter started kneading his hips.

“G-go toho hehehell,” he giggled out through clenched teeth. Peter gasped.

“Well that’s rude!” Peter exclaimed, one hand roaming down to squeeze his thighs. Miguel burst into loud belly laughs, shoving weakly at Peter’s hands. He made a show of taking a deep breath before blowing a raspberry against Miguel’s neck.

A string of curses gave way to helpless cackles and snorts, especially when Peter started nibbling. “Ohohokahay, oho fuhuhuck thahat’s bad! Peter!” Miguel scolded through hysterics, and needless to say everyone in the room was thoroughly amused.

Peter backed off with a smug grin. “You alright?” Miguel stood there, catching his breath and shot a harsh glare at him. He also shot him the bird. If it was even possible, Peter grinned wider.

“What?” Miguel snapped, though it wasn’t as harsh as you’d expect.

“I bit you. You’re possessed now, it’s how it works,” he explained, oh so casually. Miguel scoffed, furrowed his brows, doing anything to try to appear not amused.

“Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true! It had to be how MJ transferred it to me!” he explained frantically.

“You’re really gonna blame your wife?” Miguel quipped. Pavitr barked out a laugh before covering his mouth with his hand.

“You’re missing the point. You’re possessed by the ghost too now,” he said, acting as though it was grave news, but the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at Miguel said otherwise.

“Oh so it’s a ghost now?” he asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement anymore. “Well then, it’s a good thing they aren’t real.” He walked to the doorway, but only made it about halfway.

Miguel suddenly doubled over in pain, a dramatic and very convincing groan emitting from his throat. They all watched on in concern as he jerked upright, arching his back. He unshed his claws with a dramatic motion of his hands. A deep, low chuckle left his lips as he slowly turned towards the group.

“Well well well, it would seem that Miguel is no longer with us,” he said in a threatening tone. He caught Peter’s gaze and flashed a sharp grin, winking. He addressed the rest of them, “But he wanted me to tell you: run.” He really didn’t have to tell them twice.

They scattered like mice, and Peter easily caught Miles in the rush. He was giggling before he even touched him, but the laughter doubled once he dug into his ribs.

Miguel was able to snatch Pavitr by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back and into his clutches. He clawed at his belly and Pav immediately let out a giggly shriek.

They carried on like this for some time, playing this odd game of chase. Every once in a while, Peter would glance at Miguel and see the way he was smiling and actually laughing along with the rest of them.

Maybe Peter should get “possessed” more often.

[red-room-studi0]

WIR AU Introduction!!!! "ReinC̴̢̺̹̿̐̊͂̉Ȍ̸̬̘̭̬́̈Ḑ̸̯̫͔̝̋̎̓̏Ẽ̸̠̤̤̰͕̆͐͝D̶̹̜͆̒͜ AU"

(oooo spooky title)

Soooo uhhhh this is an Wreck It Ralph AU of mine that is also a self inserbut uh if u don't like that then uhhhhhh. Sorry.

ANYWAY! I'm bad at explaining things so just bear with me here! *Freddy Faz bear noises 🐻*

Oke oke- Sooo basically this AU is about this Girl "Annabelle" (my self insert teehee) who had gotten trapped in the Sugar Rush game somehow just by messing with the game cabinet while the Arcade was closed (spooky black magic shit ik). But later she finds some weird red glitchy blob by Cola mountain, she messes with it for a bit and then HOLY SHIT IT'S TURBO??? WHAT???!!! NO WAY! But Turbo is in his virtual form (like a ghost form of some kind, idk just keep listening to me yap) instead of his physical form (and oh boy is his physical form way more fucked up than his virtual form). Time goes by and Annabelle is Ruling Sugar Rush (yeah ik that doesn't make sense but just wait till I get to the lore part and as to why oke? oke-). So yeah she has been made to rule a literal sugar kingdom while she also has to be a playable character to NOT look sus to other game characters watching. (ofc this did not work cuz erm- what the sigma??? new girl??? where Vanellope???????)

LORE

OK! now for the lore and as to WHY??? AND HOW???

Sooo, Annabelle had move into town and then found out there was a cool arcade nearby where she was now living. Ofc that being Litwack's Arcade :3. For a little while she had been a daily visitor to the arcade and ofc Sugar Rush was her #1 favorite arcade game and played it EVERY DAY. She would play other games too ofc (Fix It Felix Jr would be her last resort game when all the other games in the arcade were Occupied).

Now as for Annabelle's personality? She is pretty nice and very fun to be around if you like her at first sight. She has a bit of an ego though, It pretty much started developing when she would win all the time in that Sugar Rush game. She had ALWAYS been the #1 person on that sugar rush leader board (I actually don't know if there even is a leader board in the game but NOW IT DOES >:]). Unfortunately that would change when a couple of assholes would come in and mentally put her down saying shit like uhhh "lol, ur so bad", "I could bet you in a race like that" (they're jealous lol). Ofc this gets on Annabelle's nerves and this makes her think she has competition (and she did) AND her way to cope and talk back at them with bs like this was to STROKE HER EGO (oh honey noooo D,:). Ofc this eventually gets to her when she starts fumbling in the game and is starts losing with every chance she gets (yes getting 2sd place means losing to her, sounds familiarrrrrrr ◉_◉). She has been losing her place on the leaderboard and eventually the Assholes find out and then they quite literally take a mental tole on her (ya wanna know what's really funny??? These assholes are literal teenage kids... Annabelle is literally fucking 20 like- HONEY THEY'RE KIDS STOP WORRYING 😭😭😭).

One night Annabelle hits a breaking point and NEEDS to be back on that #1 spot on the leader board BY. ANY. MEANS. NECISSARY.

Phhhfffttt- Oh nonono- she is NOT losing to a couple of kids that have been bulling her for the past couple of days! Hell NO! So what does she do???? Break into the Arcade overnight!!!! WhAt CoUlD pOsSiBlY gO wRoNg??? *screaminggggg and cryinngggg*

So Annabelle breaks in the Arcade, UNFORTUANTELY She had forgotten her quarters back at home. Sooooo she goes back home and doesn't bother✨ JK SHE DECIDES TO BREAK INTO THE GAME CABNET TO STEAL QUARTERS 💀 (mind u that Annabelle is UNAWARE that these game characters are sentient, so even if she did have her change on her and put them in... they would NOT be there) Annabelle rummages around and is suddenly hit with some powerful shock and blacks out (Nice one girl 😒). Annabelle wakes up and HOLY SHIT- WHAT THE FUCK??? SHE'S IN SUGAR RUSH???? WHAT THE HELLLLL?????? (ofc this whole time she thinks she's dreamingggg but the scary reality finally hits her eventually 😁😁😁) Annabelle Finds out about Game Central Station and oh my god it looks to scary for her- nope, She's staying inside Sugar Rush. And heaven forbid if one of them finds out she's human in the game world, they could probably kill her *🥲*. I almost forgot to mention that her physical appearance slowly starts to change the longer she's in the game world. Her skin starts to look paler and slightly grey; her eyes are tinted yellow and her eyerises are turning a darker shade of blue. And this is due to the exposure to the atmosphere of the game world. So it looks like she's dying but she's not. :,]

Anyway about this Red g̵̋͜l̸̯̾i̶̱̍t̶̩͒c̴̪̀h̸͖́ÿ̶̦ blob she found beside Cola Mountain~

After a while of her walking around and Exploring Sugar Rush (and to find a safe place to stay *sobs*) She sees a red glint in the corner of her eyes by the mountain and ofc goes to check it out (naauuurrrrrrr!!!!), She finds it, picks it up, messes with it for a minute and she's suddenly hit with a painful red shock that literally makes her fall to the ground. And with some spoooky electronic glitchy magic bs going on in front of her this blob takes in the form of... guys... You'll NEVER guess who it is!... It's Turbo! what a goddamn surprise! I bet u never guessed right hehehehehehe >:] jk (I just realized how long this is getting. I'm sorry to all my ADHD people 😭😭😭)

I'll try to explain this part really quick :,)

Turbo meets Annabelle in his Virtual form, Annabelle os freaked out about this shit cuz holy fuck what is that creepy ass glitchy tall shadow creature???? (yes his virtual form made him tall 🤭) So after some back and fourth talking and them introducing themselves and Turbo going on about his pathetic sob story as they why he's like this and all that bs talk, Annabelle asks if he could be able to take her home because of his coding abilities and all that stuff. He says he will BUT, in order to help her get "home" SHE has to do something for him first in order for that to happen. He NEEDS everything back that was all taken away from HIM and he need her help to get it all back just by Reincoding him back to his physical from (unfortunately for Turbo, his powers and abilities are limited when he's in his virtual form.). Annabelle agrees. (spoiler alert: There is actually no way she can get home, she's stuck in the game world forever. 🥲)

Now how this will happen is:

• Get inside the castle and enter the code room, Find Sour Bill and hold him at knife (ik, very dramatic and over the top but somethings gotta work) point. He will help her get into the code room with a rope to tie around her in order to stay safe and not float away in the black abyss of the code room (ofc he tells her the Nintendo code)

• He will be with her when this happens, Annabelle will need to destroy Vanellope's code and keep it away from all the other codes just like he did when he Ruled Sugar Rush. This will ensure that Vanellope will forget EVERYTHING (this means her memories about Ralph and everyone else she has befriended and her memories she has held dear)

• Turbo will teach her how to code a new character sprite for herself and put EVERYTHING in it that will make her Rightful Ruler. Annabelle gives herself the Name "Queen Sweetheart" Omori Reference???? (Turbo designed a dress for her, She found it pretty sus on how low the bust area is but whatever, she has other clothing designs for herself. Whatever works)

• Alright Vanellope is out of the way and now considered a threat once again and no one has NO memory of Vanellope and Annabelle is officially rightful ruler of Sugar Rush

• She will announce that there will be a big Racing event in THREE DAYS (ofc the whole part with the coins from the first movie is brought back to ensure that Vanellope CANNOT enter the race again.

• When that day comes Turbo will virtually go into Annabelle's body (It's painful) and then she will go racing with him virtually inside her.(Please don't get the wrong idea I couldn't think of any other way to say it 😭😭😭) She HAS TO WIN. If she doesn't then he will find her completely useless and not help her get back home. *😐*

When Annabelle wins that race Turbo is finally back to his physical form and 100% fully alive and will take everything back that has been taken from him. (sure Turbo, sure 😒)

Ofc there will be people getting in the way of Their plans cuz people want to know why there's suddenly a new character and "WHAT THE FUCK DID U DO TO VANELLOPE???" -Ralph probably 🤭

With the help of some people Vanellope eventually starts to regain memory. "How will Vanellope get into that Race? she has no medal!" Well Felix was nice enough to give him one of his to use, he was hesitant *raises eyebrow* but he had to do it for the sake of Vanellope.

I was gonna type in more but I think that would be spoiling some stuff so uh yeahhhh. I'll stope here for now! uhhhh Thanks for readingggg. (If u even read this far into my AU Lore and stuff 😇)

I'd love to type more story and lore but like the last bits are like the best parts so like- I'll save those for art hehehehe.

If you like this AU then YIPPEEEE!!!!! ✨✨✨

If not then uhhhh 😐😐😐

thx for reading anyway 🥲

Anyway uh I'll make ref sheet's for Turbo and Annabell/QS soon dw 😁😁😁

If u have questions about the AU, my inbox is open for asks!!! ✨✨✨ I'd love to answer :333

Oke uh Bye 💖

[sea-owl]

Ok I've thought about which spouse came from what districts.

All notes come from the personal file of Victor Danbury when asked which victors could be trusted to bring into the rebellion.

Simon: Simon is a career tribute from District 1. He volunteered for his games at 18, thinking this was the only way his life was ever supposed to go due to his father demanding Simon bring honor to the Basset name. His mentor, even when he was still training, was Victor Agatha Danbury. He quickly became disillusioned during the games after his first kill but knew he had to kill or be killed, and he had unfinished businesses with his father. So he powered through, trying to make the other tributes deaths as quickly as possible. After he vowed to bring as many tributes back alive as he could and regularly joined Victor Danbury as a mentor.

Kate: Kate's from District 8. She volunteered for her games at 18, thinking either she'll get her family help by winning or they'll have one less mouth to feed if she didn't. Her weaving skills really helped in the arena with setting traps, and as the capitol liked to say, Kate was too stubborn to die. Kate was pissed when she learned the new set of rules she had to play lest she risk her family. For years, Kate played the perfect victor in public. It relaxed a little when Edwina turned 19 and no longer eligible for the games, but by then, Kate didn't really know how to act otherwise.

Sophie: Sophie is from District 6. Due to everything being transported through District 6, there is a high presence of peacekeepers there. Sophie's father was a high-ranking peace keeper and her mother from the districts. Her father did kind of take her in but would never dare to claim her. Any peace keepers would never say the words outloud when they have district kids. Her stepmother wanted to turn Sophie into an Avox but had to settle into forcing Sophie to take out so much tesserae it was only a matter of time before she was reaped at 17. Sophie actually got a lot of sponsors during her games because she looked so much like a Capitol child they couldn't bear to let her die in the games. This greatly helped her outlast the other tributes. One of the items she got, that she managed to sneak out had the initials PR on them and a note that said for my sister.

Penelope: Penelope is also a career from District 4, but you would never guess she was. In my personal headcanon, while District 4 is a career district, they don't actively try to volunteer for the games like Districts 1 and 2 with a few exceptions. Penelope is not one of those exceptions and was reaped at 16. She won her games by using her ability to go unnoticed to collect information on other tributes in the training center and in the arena. Using that information, she would leave messages that would leave alliances in shambles and other tributes paranoid while she hid. She's handy with a knife, particularly a diver's knife, and when she had to use it to off other tributes while she distracted them with the information she gathered.

Phillip: Phillip is from District 7 and repeaedat 16. He had actually lost his older brother, George, who died in the blood bath during Michael's games. The Capitol liked to say Phillip was George's ghost come back to finish business. As a boy, Phillip spent a lot of time in the woods to hide from his father, and he got to know the plants very well. He knew which were safe and which were poisoned. This played into his games when the gamemakers left a bunch of poisonous plants in the arena and never told any of the tributes. Phillip used these plants to poison other tributes water and coat his weapon with them.

Michael: Michael is a career from District 2. He was from one of the more well-off families in two, taken in by his uncle after his father's death. Realistically, he and his cousin John had the lowest chances of being reaped. But at 18, Michael volunteered for the games when his 17 year old cousin John was reaped. Michael played it off that it was his role as a spare relative, and it's not like this hasn't happened before among the wealthy families in the districts. Michael played into his charm during the games. Often charming other tributes into alliances and then killing them.

Gareth: Gareth is also a career from District 1 and at 17 he "volunteered" for his games. In reality he was forced and it was more of a punishment and a reminder towards Victor Danbury that even her precious grandson can be put into the arena. Simon was now Gareth's mentor. The Capitol ate up the legacy tribute bit Gareth played. Grandson to a beloved victor and the student to another, instant fan favorite.

Lucy: District 8 and repeaed at 16. Lucy is trying to make the best of her situation said well she either dies in that arena or she makes it out and is no longer under her uncles control. Kate is Lucy's mentor and came up with the strategy to have Lucy appear helpless and then secretly take down other tributes in the arena. It was an easy thing for Lucy to do, she's been playing helpless most of her life.

In the order the tributes won their games, Simon, Kate, Michael, Phillip, Sophie Penelope, Gareth, and Lucy. Simon won his games, and 5 years later, Kate won her's. Three years after Kate, Michael won his games. 4 years later Phillip, Sophie, and Penelope won back to back games. Eight years after Penelope's Gareth won his games followed by Lucy's games the next year.

[fandoms-in-law]

Ghostly Assistance

Summary: In 1989 Charles and Edwin have only been friends a few months when Steve and Robin meet them, sent to England by El who insists someone in London can help them get Eddie back. Steve isn't pleased when the ghosts suggest it sounds like Eddie is dead but Edwin and Charles agree to help regardless.

Author's note: Anyone else wonder how the detectives got their office? Cause I do. Also yeah, my idea for today was angsty and that's basically never my vibe. Thank you that this is out of my brain now, it's over shadowed multiple of the fics I've been writing this month just by knowing it was coming up at some point. Also decided my idea doesn't work for questions the fic and Steve bring up quite vehemently.

My Idea prompt for today: Steve finds out he can see ghosts by meeting the Dead Boy Detectives, which would be fun if it didn't explain why he's been able to see and hang out with Eddie when no-one else can. They'd hoped it was some upside down thing instead

/\/\

Eddie was alive; he had to be. Steve could see him, talk to him, just not touch him, but that just meant he was trapped in the Upside Down and they needed to save him. It couldn’t mean he was dead, no matter how the kids worried.

If Steve was somehow seeing a ghost, he’d surely be seeing more of them around Hawkins. It would be ludicrous to suppose that out of everyone killed by the Upside Down, Russians and US experimentation, only Eddie had become a ghost.

His faith in Eddie being alive, and El’s certainty there were people in London who could help bring him back was everything pushing him onto the plane, and Robin coming along made it almost feel like a holiday for them. Time away with his best friend to help save the man that meant so much to them all. It felt more like the adventures the kids described from their DnD games than anything they’d gone through yet.

Three years of quiet from the Upside Down, of worrying that it might come back but being assured by Will and El something was preventing that, assured by Eddie that he’d let them know if something bad was about to happen, and they finally had names of people El was sure would help. Even if the threat of danger wasn’t gone from Hawkins it was at least quiet enough for the trip to happen. Especially when they ensured their return flights could be brought forward free of charge.

/\/\

The names El had given them weren’t in any London phone book Robin had found and she’d taken to leading them around London, as if hoping to just run into them somehow. Steve didn’t think that would work but he also hadn’t been allowed to keep the note El had written with the names of who they were looking for.

Just having it calmed some of Robin’s frantic energy over doing this so he hadn’t argued that much. He was beginning to want to know what the names were though, having forgotten since boarding their flight.

Just as he turned to ask her Steve realised he’d been about to walk into a very formally dressed boy and dodged out of the way, tugging Robin further in also as a second boy was talking to the first he’d seen. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He apologised quickly as the odd looks he received.

“Steve?” Robin asked, sounding bewildered.

The formally dressed boy just nodded, “It’s fine.” He said, nodding and turning as if to carry on, but the second boy paused a moment, looking him over as if wanting to say more.

“Why are you talking to the air? What’s with yanking me here? Nobody is there.” Robin huffed, pulling herself out of his grip to gesture directly at the two boys.

“What?” Steve frowned now looking at her in confusion, “Oh, have a good day,” He called after the boys, focusing back on his friend, “The boys we just passed? They’re right there, still.”

She shook her head, following his gesture again, “Nope, nobody other than us on this street.”

“I don’t know what prank you’re trying to pull, Robs, but they’re blatantly there.” He huffed, gesturing again as if that would force her to stop denying it.

The second boy, more casually dressed, made a thoughtful noise, “You think it’d help to tell him we’re ghosts?”

Steve turned at that, eyes narrowed and looking over them again. “I’d know if I could see ghosts. Hawkins must have tons by this point.”

“Who mentioned ghosts, Steve?” Robin gripped his upper arm, looking around confused and concerned now.

“He did!” Steve repeated, gesturing back to the pair.

She shook her head, “Nobody is there.”

“Where is Hawkins and why would there be a lot of ghosts there?” The formally dressed boy had pulled out a notebook and was looking at him intrigued.

“Just admit is Eddie somehow got here.” Robin carried on, talking over him as if she couldn’t hear him at all and Steve was beginning to believe she wasn’t joking or just acting like she couldn’t.

He still glared at her and the boys. “It’s not Eddie and Hawkins, Indiana, America. The amount of death and shit that’s gone on in that town in the last 6 years, there’d be more than enough ghosts I’d know I could see them before now.” He huffed, but held up a hand when he could see another question about to be asked, “And Eddie is someone stuck in the Upside Down who I can see like you, she can’t and do not suggest he’s anything but alive.”

The casually dressed boy laughed, “Mate, you named somewhere the Upside Down? What is it? A pub?”

“Also I would assume Eddie is, in fact, dead, if as you say, you see him like us while others cannot.” The formal boy added.

Steve didn’t reply to either of them, turning to head back the way they’d come as quickly as he could while still walking.

Robin hesitated, looking around where they’d been before jogging to catch up. “Steve? Steve, Don’t storm off. I’ll get lost! Or you will.” She called, only pausing for a second after catching him up to place a comforting hand on his back, “Did the ghosts suggest Eddie’s dead?”

“He’s not dead.” He insisted.

She didn’t reply for a moment, looking torn between agreeing or trying to comfort him about that being a possibility. He heard in that moment the formal boy remarking “What an unusual couple. Charles? Why are you following them?”

“Mate, hey, sorry Edwin said that. Sounds like you’ve been through some stuff. We’re trying to help people where we can. Maybe if you tell us more we could help you, or your friend, Eddie, was it?” The boy called, catching up to them easily and earnestly meeting Steve’s eyes as he offered.

Robin sighed, nodding at something in Steve’s expression though he couldn’t guess what or how it’d changed with the boy offering to help them. “I believed you Eddie is alive before now so I’m sticking with that. But seeing ghosts? That’s pretty cool, right? Bet Dustin would call it metal.”

“No Robin, I don’t think so and doubt Dustin would either when they’re saying Eddie’s dead. Also they’re still here, offering to help.” Steve grumbled. He didn’t want help from people saying Eddie was dead.

“Okay, then listen, they’re willing and the first people we’ve had actually talk to us. All El gave us was 2 names and nothing else to find these people she thinks can help. Can you at least ask them about that?” She suggested gently.

“In a city like London it’s unlikely we’ll be able to assist, but I suppose we can try,” The formal boy, Edwin? Agreed with a heavy breath as if against letting his friend offer their help.

Steve glanced at him for a moment, “Thank you, except, Robs, you kept the note. I know one name began Ed but wasn’t Edward and the other might’ve been Charlie? Charlotte? Something charred but I haven’t seen the note or been told the names since we boarded the flight.”

As Robin huffed and muttered about having said them so many times while trying to find them and riffling through her jacket pockets to find the note, the casually dressed boy, Charles?, grinned, “Your flight from America? Yeah, I’d have forgotten them too. Guessing whomever you’re looking for isn’t in a phone book either.”

“She checked that as soon as she could with no luck.” Steve sighed as Robin half cheered, pulling the note out.

“Oh! Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland! That’s what El wrote.”

The names got a reaction from the pair talking to Steve and given the names he’d heard so far he could guess why. Edwin was smirking and Charles burst into laughter, “You’re kidding. That’s aces. Glad I stopped you storming off.”

“Quite so Charles. We’re the people you’re looking for apparently.” Edwin agreed, before his brow furrowed. “I would invite you to join us somewhere but Charles and I don’t currently have a residence. Perhaps we could reconvene at your hotel?”

Steve shrugged, “Guess we’ll have to. How would ghosts get a residence, anyway?” He asked offhand, before turning to Robin, “El asked us to find these ghosts. Apparently your method of randomly walking around London worked.”

“I told you it – So I flew all this way to help you find them and I can’t even see them? Why didn’t El ensure you got all the information instead of me?” Robin began to gloat before pausing in frustration.

“Haunting where they died most often, however neither of us are inclined to remain at the school we died within.” Edwin answered, gesturing to Steve for him to lead the way.

Steve nodded at the answer before replying to Robin’s question, “Probably because you were insisting on coming with me despite being very anxious over the idea of flying. El knows we share everything with each other eventually anyway. We’re going back to the hotel now, come on.”

The walk back was taken over by Robin wondering aloud about ghosts and occasionally Charles or Edwin explaining something more so Steve could share it.

/\/\

It had been a joke the last time they’d helped a ghost solve their unfinished business and been gifted something in return; a bag that Charles had been told to be careful with since it could store many things but also injure those removing items too harshly. He’d suggested trying to solve people problems for payment as their plans for their life and getting an office to do it from.

Edwin was wondering if that joke wasn’t as absurd as he’d thought now, listening to these two humans explain their friend’s situation as well as why Steve was so certain he was alive even 3 years after he was last seen in his body.

It could certainly give them a place to form a reference library for these sorts of problems.

“What about the ghosts, Robin?” Steve exclaimed. She’d been repeating the facts about ghosts that had been shared again, comparing it to Eddie but he clearly had his focus on a different detail. “I can listen and repeat what these boys are saying all you like, but why is there only Eddie even slightly ghost like in Hawkins?”

Edwin cleared his throat, “If I may, you might not have recognised ghosts in your town as such. Perhaps-” He broke off at the glare shot to him.

“You don’t know Hawkins. I can name 5 unjustified deaths without blinking and at least half I know would have unfinished business or a reason to stay. That’s ignoring the kids and that lab which killed or experimented on them until their deaths. If Eddie is a ghost, which I absolutely don’t believe, where are the rest? Why isn’t Barb still trying to reach Nance to ensure her boyfriend is good enough, or Chrissy, I don’t know, haunting Jason’s old mob? Why aren’t El’s siblings doing anything to show they’re there and mad over the guy who killed them still surviving and plotting?” The rant burst out of Steve and frankly left Edwin with more questions, enough that he stood back and started noting down what seemed to be important deaths or locations in Hawkins.

“And why is El also saying Eddie is alive.” Robin added quietly, as if coming to a realisation over Steve’s frustration.

Steve clicked at her, “Remembered that have you? El doesn’t lie.”

“Mates, I think you need to actually tell us what’s gone on in Hawkins. Just talking about Eddie clearly isn’t enough information.” Charles said, gaping slightly between the pair. “What was that about a lab killing kids?”

The story of Hawkins was disturbing, but Edwin was still dubious over the help they wanted. Moving to another country to help, even temporarily, seemed to be an extreme decision. Steve and Robin had barely finished their tale when he stood. “Charles, a word?” He gestured to the closet, deciding it was best to at least remain with the pair until their decision was made.

“Are you truly considering going to America to help these people? They’ve already got plenty of assistance from what they’ve said.”

Charles nodded, “And are getting nowhere with the issue. Sounds like they’re basically just waiting for it to kick off again instead of facing the guy causing all the deaths.” He gestured to Edwin with a grin, “And who better to help than the man who in a matter of months has gained more knowledge about magic and supernatural beings than most ghosts we’ve met? Besides, I know you’re curious. You wanna prove yourself right over Eddie as well as figure out why they haven’t got more ghosts around. Come on.”

Edwin fought the smile that wanted to break through. “No I-”

“Did you just gesture that they’ve hidden in the closet from us?” Robin’s voice came from the room outside the closet.

Steve huffed as if he’d tried to keep her quiet. “Edwin isn’t on board with coming back with us yet. Charles is convincing him.”

“In the closet? Are they-?” Her words drifted of, clearly implying something from the quiet groans Charles and Steve let out, Charles shaking his head.

“Don’t think so and definitely not currently. Best friends like us, I’d guess.” Steve replied after a thump that sounded like he’d shoved her lightly back.

Robin laughed, “Or two boys in a closet.”

“Convenient place to argue with the illusion of privacy. You think we should try that at home?”

“Nah, imagine how insufferable the kids would get if we started going into closets together all the time?”

Charles laughed, meeting Edwin’s eyes, “Guess Steve could hear us too.”

“Clearly. And You’re correct. I’m curious, but what if helping reveals us to death, or puts us at risk of whatever has prevented ghosts from forming in Hawkins?” Edwin returned to their conversation. “Or worse, since I’ve already encountered information on things that destroy ghosts entirely.”

“Wait!” Steve called, yanking the door open, “Death exists? Did I hear that right? Would you prefer we try and contact him directly?”

Edwin rolled his eyes, “Her and no, that would be the height of stupidity. Please close the door and refrain from further eavesdropping.”

Steve barely nodded as he did so, already turned to Robin. “Robs, Death is female! I wonder what she’s like?”

After a moment to hear the two friends start gossiping over death together Edwin and Charles finally continued their discussion over whether they should help, hopeful that Steve wasn’t listening still.

/\/\

“Do you think they’ll really get us a place?” Charles asked. They had decided to wait at London airport for the day or so it would take Robin and Steve to get home and were wondering over something Robin had offered. “Would be brills if they could even get it in London.”

Edwin wasn’t quite so convinced or excited by the thought. “We’ll have to wait and see, Charles. Although I would be grateful for a place to collate our research and cases.”

/\/\

“Are you the pair El said would help?” Eddie hesitated, ready to run from the two boys who’d appeared through the mirror in his trailer bathroom. There wasn’t a gate forming at least so he didn’t worry about the Upside Down being pushed to merge with Hawkins again.

The first boy to come through paused, looking him over. “Yes we are and despite El and Steve’s insistence you definitely seem to be a ghost.” He said.

“He’s Edwin. I’m Charles. Are you Eddie?” Charles greeted, having straightened up from where he’d fallen.

“Yes and no, I’m not dead. Vecna doesn’t let ghosts form. Come on, I’ll point out where my body is to you.” Eddie gestured, leading the way out. “I don’t think he can see me, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

Edwin kept his voice hushed while replying, “You’re friends were beginning to think Vecna is dead.”

“Annoyingly he isn’t. I was hoping they’d believe that if it stayed quiet for long enough though. They’ve not been relaxing and have only just figured out patrols that don’t leave everyone a bit sleep deprived. I’m keeping him here for as long as I can.” Eddie explained, crouching behind some trees where they could see one of the gates El had mentioned needing to close each time they reopened.

“How?” Charles asked, seeing Eddie’s body moving to go through the gate and being pulled back somehow.

Eddie grunted, putting effort into yanking Vecna away from the gate. “Whatever Vecna did to kick me out of my body still lets me refuse to let it leave here. I go and see Steve or El if he’s distracted and I’m certain he won’t try to go through for a while.”

“It’s difficult to do.” Edwin observed. “This is a very unusual occurrence but then I still don’t understand El’s powers either.”

“Bet I could beat him though.” Charles offered. “If he’s got a body of his own around here, that is.”

Eddie snickered a little, “Yeah, please don’t kill me going after him.”

Charles nodded, “Course, Mate, would hurt someone Steve likes so much. You okay if we go back to him now though, do some research and planning to see if we can help?”

“Just keep me up to date on any plans.” Eddie waved them off, staying close to the gate just in case his body tried breaking through again.

/\/\

Steve was fuming, heartbroken, and an entire mix-up of emotions he couldn’t break down enough to understand. He was also staring at Edwin and Charles as if they were speaking Russian until Robin stepped in front of him. “Steve? Steve? Are Edwin and Charles back? What are they saying? Your reaction is scaring the kids.”

“Vecna took Eddie’s body. I’m going to kill him.” He blinked back to himself, going to grab his nail bat from the hall closet.

“No, put the nail bat down.” Dustin immediately jumped up, trying to tug the bat from his grip. “You aren’t killing anyone until Eddie has his body back, whatever that means.”

“Steve, you can’t go after him now.” Robin appeared at his side again. “You’d risk killing Eddie yourself if you did.”

Charles looked around at the various people there, focusing on Will and El as the other two who could see him. “Does this Vecna guy have a body?” He asked.

“Yes, we’ve gone against him before and he was in it then.” Steve growled out. “So let me in there to beat it to shreds. Kill the body and he’ll have to leave Eddie’s, right?”

El shook her head. “He’s possessing Eddie’s now, possibly because it’s less connected and stronger than his own without the vines.” She mused.

“It reduces your ability to find him too. I guess that’s why your early attempts to connect and fight him mentally failed, but if you faced him, went to meet him at a gate or something, could you get him out of Eddie’s body? Send him back to his own? If these two can find his own body and like blow it up at the same time, even better.” Steve suggested, looking between El and the ghosts imploringly, seemingly unconcerned that he’d gone from wanting to be the one to kill Vecna to planning for others to do the most damage in an instant.

Edwin shared a glance with Charles before nodding, “An astute plan, Steve. El, are you able to do that?”

El barely managed to agree before Mike interrupted, “Please tell me one of those ghosts had a better plan you’re agreeing to than the nonsense Steve just spewed.”

“Edwin said the plan was smart.” El simply replied.

“Steve? Smart?” Mike scoffed, “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

Watching Edwin slam one of the research books nearest Mike shut and the boy jumping away from it had Steve and a few other snickering, but soon sobering.

El waited for Edwin to finish his repetition of the praise before relaying it for everyone to hear, “Edwin says of course. Steve’s the one noticing the details that have helped form a viable plan to resolve Eddie’s situation and the threats over our town. Charles also thinks the plan is brills and is asking whether he needs to get explosives himself or we can provide some.”

“Great.” Mike groaned, but was called to start planning by Hopper and Nancy who were ready to fine tune Steve’s idea now someone had one.

/\/\

Hopper stared at Steve and Robin, bewildered and obviously questioning their sanity. “You want to buy an office, in England, for some ghosts who helped you with this? When since the plan to get rid of Vecna and save Eddie succeeded there’s been countless hauntings here?” He listed, breaking each question off sharply.

“I can help with most of those and El is working through the rest. Half of them just need telling what happened with their deaths and that the man orchestrating them all is dead himself now, definitely in hell to please them more.” Steve reasoned.

“Besides, we only asked Charles and Edwin to help us save Eddie and we did promise to get them their own place in payment.” Robin continued. “And if you don’t cosign to confirm it’s legit, Steve’ll just fake his father’s signature and make the Harrington accounts cover everything in case Edwin and Charles struggle at all.”

Steve had been ready to continue their arguments but paused at that. “Actually Hop, you’re right. We should do that as the first option. Charles has said he’ll write still anyway.”

“Brills.” Charles muttered behind them. “Please tell me your parents are rich assholes who never show up?”

“Correct in one. Let’s get you two back to England so we can set up your office.” Steve nodded, turning around. “Eddie’s coming with us and we’re going to have a few days holiday to sight see while we’re there too.”

Charles grinned and Edwin had a small smile also. “You really are being very generous to do this for us.”

“And you were very generous in agreeing to help us and everything you’ve done.” Steve mimicked his speech a little, smiling to show it was just teasing. “Seriously though, this doesn’t feel like we’re doing enough. Are you sure an office space is what you want?”

“Indeed. Along with all the games the other boys are insisting on you bringing back with you I’m sure it will be plenty enough.” Edwin confirmed. He knew the games being given to them wasn’t purely out of kindness; most of the kids had parents pushing them to clear out games rarely played with, but they seemed like a pleasant way to pass an evening at least.

[galway-girlatwork]

Fandom: The Mentalist-AU

Rating: Mature-Angst. Smut. Enemies to lovers. One sentence mentions prostitution.    

Central Characters: Marcus Pike and Original Female Character

Central Relationship: Marcus and Daciana/Kira

Word Count: 2,080

AO3

Please do not copy my work. If you liked it, please re-blog and tag me. Please do not steal the mood board, it was a gift. I do not give permission to copy, translate, or post my work to any other platform.

Music inspiration: Le Castle Vania-Shots Fired

Inspired by the beautiful mood board created and gifted by the amazingly talented Freya Thank You Board post. @almostfoxglove Freya I utterly adore you.

SUMMARY:

The relationship between Agent Marcus Pike and Daciana, is a game of cat and mouse, taking Marcus around the world—London, Tokyo, Rio, and now Paris. Daciana taunts him, leaving clues that lead him to her hideouts just a little too late, fueling his growing obsession.

Their relationship is more than just professional; there’s an undeniable chemistry between them, a tension that neither can ignore. Marcus, frustrated by his inability to catch her, is simultaneously drawn to her presence.

Marcus knows that catching Daciana may come at a cost—one that goes far beyond the law.

Shadow and Flame

Marcus Pike had spent his life chasing shadows, but none more elusive than Daciana. The assassin was a ghost, slipping through his fingers every time he thought he was close. For two years, their game of cat and mouse had taken him to every corner of the globe. London, Tokyo, Rio—each location held a piece of her, a trace of her existence, but never enough. She always stayed just out of reach, taunting him with her brilliant mind and unnerving calm. This time he was in Paris, a lead from Interpol, which required more red tape than any government agency back home. He had her this time, almost a little cocky in his thought process. Hotel St. Germain was non-descript, set back from all the tourist traps of Paris, and he knew that is why she choose it. Once room 1002 was cleared, they let him enter, gun drawn, finger nowhere near the trigger because something in the back of his head told him that she wasn’t here even before anyone uttered a word. He should have been surprised but he wasn’t. Daciana was always two, three, four steps ahead. Sitting at the small writing desk, he ran a finger over lacquered wood. He could almost imagine here sitting here, having coffee and breakfast, waiting for a call that would take her to another city.  He was frustrated and pissed. The intel was good but just a little too late, his fascination and obsession with her growing. Pulling the phone from his pants pocket, he called the number the informant had given them, expecting a recording that the mailbox had not been set up, jaw dropping when she actually picked up.   

“Agent Pike, running late today?” She was more than just an assassin. She was a product of her father, mother long since dead, left to be raised to become lethal simply because he had no son to carry on the “family legacy,” or Brigăzi as her father once put it. Her skills were used for cleanup and something told her, she should have done away with the informant in France but she was needed home. A liability that would never happen again, unless it was Agent Pike. There was something about the games she played with him that gave her a high like nothing else had. It was the thrill of deliberately leaving clues for him, breadcrumbs that kept him busy but never allowing him to close the gap, not until she wanted to. Each clue felt like a personal challenge, an invitation to try harder, to get closer. “To say I am disappointed would be an understatement. I am guessing at this time you are in room 1002, wondering where I am now.”

In a way, he admired her, her skills and her ability to outthink him, mostly but admiration only went so far. He couldn’t forget who she was or what she did. “Daciana, are you forgetting Brazil? Wasn’t late then, was I?”

“No. I will give you credit for that one. Perhaps a half point since you only missed me by ten minutes, an oversight on my part. But today…You’re late by two days. Tisk tisk, losing your touch?”

He told himself that this was just another assignment, but deep down, he couldn’t deny that there was more to it. He wanted to understand her, to know her, and that desire was as intoxicating as it was dangerous. “You know eventually the cat and mouse game has to end. Why not come back to Paris, I believe a French prison is more suited to your personality, don’t you agree?”

Her voice dropped an octave, throaty, sounding almost sultry, like silk against bare skin. “Marcus, your lack of faith in me is disturbing.” Did she just borrow a line from Star Wars? Oh yes, she did, knowing it was one of his favorite movies. She knew everything about him, because what he didn’t know was that as obsessive as he was about her, she was about him. “Don’t you think it’s time to head back to D.C?”

“You know I am not going back until I find you.”

“Marcus, you know that you will not find me unless I choose it. As much as you would like to think is all about you, it is about me as well. It is about us. The little game we play. Are you growing board of mouse and cat? Which one are you exactly Marcus?”

It was the way she said his name, the way she said the word us. Warm, syrupy sweet, almost as if she was purring on the other end of the line. Closing his eyes, he let it sink into his subconscious, where he could play the conversation over and over. “Daciana, I am not in the mood for the games. I do not have the energy for you right now.”

“Oh Marcus, you wound me. That little blade sinking between my ribs, it’s filling me up with more than just blood. I think I may actually shed a tear so I will respectfully disconnect the call. J'ai hâte de parler à nouveau avec vous. Au revoir Marcus."

The game took an unexpected turn in Greece. He had been tracking her movements through Europe for weeks now, and the trail led him to Mykonos. What the fuck was she doing here and how was it he got a lead? He knew she had always been careful, meticulous, but this time, there was something different. A mistake? Perhaps. Or maybe it was another one of her games. Either way, he knew he had to follow up. It was there that he met her—not Daciana, not the assassin, but Kira.

She had grown bored, if that was such a thing in her life. The emergency at home was nothing more than her father having a tantrum over something she could have taken care of without having to go all the way back to Romania. Damaged product, she explained, was nothing that couldn’t be replaced, flesh nothing but a commodity. Shaking her head as she laid out on the lounge chair, the heat of the sun warming bare skin. Greece was beautiful, not her favorite place in the world, but it came a close second to Bora Bora and Turks and Caicos. She loved heat, sun and water. She should be scared shitless, leaving clues for him, extradition was not a joke but she was such a curious creature, wanting to know more than what reports could tell a person. If anyone did become interested in the woman by the pool, the only name they would come up with was Kira, an Italian on holiday. That was how she introduced her self to him at the bar. He looked frustrated, defeated and for a split second she felt sorry for him. The offer of buying him another drink wasn’t met with resistance, as long as she joined him. When the music started, it almost took an act of god to get him off his chair. Arms loosely hung from his shoulders as hips swayed with each beat, the pulsating of the bass caused pelvic muscles to clench. Taking his hands, she placed them on her hips before giving him her back, pressing her ass against him, she could feel his erection. He wanted her. Just as much as she wanted him.

Kira was warm, funny, and easy to talk to, with a smile that lit up the room. He felt himself relax around her in a way he hadn’t in years. He wasn’t one to normally talk to strangers, but there was something in the way she moved, how she didn’t make the entire conversation about her, in fact it was the opposite, letting him talk about everything but his job, only telling her he was from the East coast. When she convinced him to dance with her, he blamed the Ouzo, body pressed against his, he forgot about the hunt, forgot about everything but the woman in his arms.

Within a tangled mess of sheets, she did make him forget everything but his need to consume her. It was what he was doing. Consuming her from the outside in as his tongue slid over her clit, fingers sliding in and out of her wetness. Tiny mewling’s and whimpers escaped labored lungs, hips meeting the stroke of those digits before she came up on an elbow, hand grabbing the back of his head as she violently came against his mouth. Collapsing on the bed as he kissed her pelvic bone, body stretched out, thighs still jerking with the aftershocks, muscled arms spread her legs and in one motion, he was buried deep inside, strokes slow, hard, steady, dragging out the pleasure until she thought she’d go mad.

Lips wrapped around a hard nipple, teeth dragging across the sensitive tip before tongue caressed it, watching her face, bottom lip clamped between teeth as he raised his head, nose nuzzling the spot below her earlobe, inhaling her scent. “Again. Come for me again,” was whispered in against her temple, a hand going under an ass cheek, pulling her closer, thrusts a little harder now, feeling the familiar tightening. Fuck he thought, he didn’t want it to end but the way she felt, wrapped around him, walls clenching as she came for a second time, felt like silk wrapped around steel. He was so fucking close and when he asked where, teeth nipped at his chin before letting him know inside. That one word trigged his own orgasm, head thrown back as hips jerked against flesh, finally stilling, head dropping to her shoulder. “Stay the night with me.”

To say the sex with Marcus was amazing would have been an understatement but as the sun began peaking through gauzy blue curtains, she knew it was time to leave him. Slowly rising from the bed, muscles sore from the hours they made love, protested the movement, wanting to lounge just a little longer but she knew she couldn’t. Actions were quiet, quick, heels in hand so as to not wake him. Standing at the edge of the bed, she stared at him and on impulse she pulled her phone from the clutch and took his picture. Laying on his back, head to one side, the beginnings of a beard, no evidence of stress, wondering if he would think of her when he woke up. Emotions began taking up residence in the vacant space of her chest cavity and she knew she’d gotten too close. Turning on her heel, she slipped out of the room.

When he woke up later that morning, she was gone. No note, no explanation, just an empty bed and the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air. His heart sank as reality crashed back in. The woman had used him, something he’d never had happen, and left. Grabbing his phone, he called down to the front desk, asking if they had seen her, the answer of course being no. Fuck. Getting up, he showered, replaying the night in his head, the countless shots, the sex and wondered how he could find her. She was just like Daciana, evaporating into thin air.

Two days later he was heading back to Lyons, the lead for Daciana going cold within those forty-eight hours. Sitting at the desk he was given, was an envelope, his name scrawled across the front, the note inside, written in a language that wasn’t familiar to him except for the name at the bottom.

“Marcus. Noaptea trecută a fost uimitoare, dar urmărirea continuă. Poate într-o zi ne vom întâlni din nou.

Daciana”

“Fuck,” was yelled out in frustration after he got it translated. Kira had never existed. It had always been Daciana. She had played him, used him, and now she was gone, disappearing into the wind as she always did. The chase resumed, but Marcus knew the truth now—he would never catch her. Not because he wasn’t skilled enough, but because Daciana was never meant to be caught. She was a force of nature, always one step ahead, always just out of reach. And as much as he hated it, a part of him didn’t want the chase to end. For Marcus she was more than a target. She was his obsession, his challenge, his impossible dream. So, he would continue the chase, knowing that it would never truly end.

[forgetmenauts]

Howdy! Could we get a member introduction? I’d love to get to know y’all’s names and pronouns ^^

We actually did an essay and interview for the queer horror zine The Quiet Ones last year where we shared some fun intros! I've included screenshots of our intros here, but if you have a chance, you should check out the zine as well: it's run by a delightful group of queer authors and editors.

Here's the link to the issue with the Forgetmenauts feature: our bit starts on page 47.

(Fun fact: Kit is also an author and has had a couple of their short stories published in other issues of the zine, under their full name of Katharine Gripp. They're here and here if you want to check them out!)

Image text below the cut:

Walker Staples (they/them) Instrument(s): Guitar/Banjo/Vocals

Favorite scary movie or book: Let the Right One In.

Favorite cryptid: Jackalope. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: I think it's gonna be Tyler; most resources, best equipped for building booby traps.

Tyler Gary (he/him) Instrument(s): Clarinet, Saxophone, Trombone, Keys. Favorite scary movie or book: Recently I read Mexican Gothic and while it wasn't my all time favorite, it definitely captured some good haunting creepy vibes. Would recommend for the mushroom horror.

Favorite cryptid: The chupacabra. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: I'd be the second or third to die. “Quick everybody, I have a plan! All we have to do is...“ *Dies in a horrible dramatic way*. I think Abe would be last to die. He would disappear early on and we would think he's dead but he actually just went on a hike and came back at the end.

Abe Finkelstein (he/him) Instrument(s): Cello, un-mic'd backup vocals and banter, howling. Favorite scary movie or book: Oryx and Crake. And I listened to a great podcast about Midsommar but will probably never have the guts to watch it.

Favorite cryptid: The Baba Yaga house. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: Definitely Emma. She lives on a sailboat and is a great problem solver, and good at engineering. You might think I was on a hike but I was actually dead the WHOLE time.

Danielle (she/her) Instrument(s): Drums!

Favorite scary movie or book: I am scared easily and don't really watch horror movies! You

didn't ask about this, but my favorite scary-ish video games are The Last of Us and Dead Space.

Favorite cryptid: Loveland frog. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: Walker, they would out-maneuver the attacker/swarm/ pathogen/whatever the horror of the horror movie is.

Kit Gripp (they/she) Instrument(s): Mandolin, vocals.

Favorite scary movie or book: Sunshine by Robin McKinley (ok so it’s not that scary but there’s lots of blood and vampires, so it counts).

Favorite cryptid: Nessie. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: Probably Collin. If it were something corporeal, he'd knock it out with a baseball bat. If it were an angry ghost, he'd talk to it and de-escalate the situation.

Emma Williams Instrument(s): Bass.

Favorite scary movie or book: House of Leaves.

Favorite cryptid: Selkie. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: I think Walker would be the most likely to survive because they are very nimble and quick.

Collin (he/him) Instrument(s): Drums!

Favorite scary movie or book: Hard to pick a favorite scary movie! Maybe Let the Right One In (the original one). It's rare that horror films are at once so beautiful, disturbing, and sympathetic to the villain.

Favorite cryptid: Michigan Dogman. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: Kit survives the horror movie, for sure. Zombie flick? Kit decapitates the shambling hordes with lethal pirouettes. Teen slasher film? Kit distracts the villain with some concocted-on-the- spot YA fiction just long enough that he doesn't even notice he's walking right into his own poetic and ironic death. Vampire horror show? Please. Kit was the vampire. Kit was always the vampire.

[morgana-ren]

Been playing with an idea and I'm curious about your thoughts: Tav stays with Ascended Astarion because she knows he will hunt her down anyway, and that the hunt will wear away what remains of the gentle love she misses. Not even in a "I can rein his worst impulses in" way, but in a "I can't bear to destroy this illusion of kind love because it's the only thing I have left of him" way. idk just musing

Speaking from experience, sometimes we cling to scraps. Somewhere deep and desperate, we know the truth, but facing it would take what little is left of our dwindling sanity-- especially when you are literally trapped in the situation.

When you're staring down the barrel of the gun, sometimes it's better to live with the constant threat than it is to pull the trigger and shatter the illusion.

The die has been cast, the choices long made, and all that is left are consequences.

Being in love can be a wonderful thing. It really can, I hear. It can also be a fucking prison, and worse, it's one of your own making. You can't rationalize with your brain. Our lives would be exponentially easier if we could. Sure, you can know the truth, but there's always some little part of you that fights and wails against that truth. Anything to keep itself stable.

It's a game of giving yourself a reasonable doubt. It's presenting yourself with a logical conclusion, and that nasty little part going "You can't possibly know that!"

Chances are, you didn't fall in love with the monster. You fell in love with the man that came before him-- or at least had that illusion of existing. And Astarion was very much a man before he became... this. There was a time of tender love and genuine affection.

There was a time when he would do anything to protect her-- and he did. He turned to this ritual because he was afraid-- both for himself and for her-- and he did what he felt he needed to do to keep them both safe. To allow them to live long enough for that love to be able to breathe.

There was a time, seemingly not so long ago, when it was a kind love. And yet, these happy memories turned haunting and cold. Something that dances ever on the edge of Tav's brain, just out of reach. Ever grasping, ever longing, ever taunting.

To run would be to accept this truth. It would be to fully reject the lie that has kept her sane. It would be to take away the one raft she has in this maelstrom and leave herself to drown. It would be to accept the truth that this isn't love; it never could be.

Love is vulnerability and selflessness, and by nature, he cannot be. His love is a cage. It is something strangling and cruel that would sooner see her suffocate than free. That is his nature now.

He is capable of saying the right words and making the right motions-- just enough to keep the lie beautiful and believable-- but to acknowledge their emptiness would be to accept that they are nothing but a death rattle. The last note in the swan song that is his dying humanity. It is a ghost of something that once existed, and has chosen to haunt and possess rather than go in peace.

If she runs, he will catch her, and there will be no pretense to his grip. That illusion is gone. She will have played her hand, laid the cards on the table, her intentions bare. And it's a game that not only does he not play by the rules of, he is simply not playing. What she has is the illusion of choice, and sometimes, it's easier to work at building that facade than it is to accept it.

When you look at him, it's those same eyes that once held adoration. The hand that chokes you is the same one that loved you once. You like to think it's still in there, somewhere, deep deep down. If you could only reach--

And what hurts more? To stay and keep trying, keep choking, keep suffering? Or to simply let it end?

Well, when there is no end even if you try, the answer seems obvious. Keep it dressed up in your mind, keep disguising it, keep trying, keep reaching for it. Something tells you that you haven't seen the worst part of him yet, and that monster will come knocking once it isn't placated.

His love for her became something very twisted and wretched. In his mind, he likely does still love her. He is showing it the only way he knows how; the only way he is capable of showing it. If she were to leave, he would feel rejected-- abandoned. Except she no longer has a choice, does she? She runs, he will find her, and he will make her love him, or she will suffer until she does.

It seems a mix of self preservation and mental preservation brewing in a caustic mix with the the dying gasp of what was true love for him. It's dancing on the edge of a razor forever, and in this case, it's quite literally forever.

Maybe she thinks she can remind him somehow. That maybe, one day, she can find a-- a cure or or something to bring him home to her. He's in there somewhere, right? Surely, he must be. This is still the same man she once loved. He's there, he has to be.

It's either keep holding out hope for this, or acknowledge the reality of the situation. It's not as easy of a choice as one might think.

[barryallenhotpants]

Carnal

Masked! Ghost face x reader

Let me know what you think! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tags:

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!

Hair pulling, choking, excessive use of force, dubcon (implied consent), predator v prey themes, degradation, harsh language.

A one-shot in which reader goads ghostface to chance her through the woods.

Enjoy the depravity lovelies~

Y/N’s pants filled the air as she ran towards the woods.

Was this a bad idea? Most definitely. Did she care? Not really.

Y/N had developed a strange fascination with ghost face over the years. There’s something about a cold-blooded murder that really got her going.

Running, Y/N’s feet pounded against the uneven forest floor. Each step sent a jolt through her entire body- her legs hurt.

Y/N found refuge from behind a tree and squatted down, her warm breathe fogging the cool air.

“Mouuuuusyyyyy…” A cold, modulated voice rang out.

“Ohhh, Mousy!” The voice yelled, a sinisterly deep baritone.

“Where are you, bitch? Just wait until I find you.” Y/N gulped. She found herself growing wet and rubbed her thighs together. Was she serious? Was getting hunted down by ghost face really turning her on? The want crept its way up her spine, until her entire being was quivering with need.

What she was thinking, was dumb. It would most likely get her killed and at the very least, she’d be dangling herself in front of a notorious murderer like a piece of meat. Y/N regarded her plan for only a moment, before deciding that she didn’t care.

Akin to a doe foraging in the foliage, Y/N stepped out from behind the tree. She could tell that ghost face was near, the sound of loud footsteps and the breaking branches filled the air.

Suddenly, the figure tramping about the woods stopped. Y/N glanced around behind the tree and saw him, in all of his glory. The signature black robe clung to his lithe body, his handy knife was prepped to kill, and his mask— oh, that mask, glowed under the bask of the moon.

Y/N could feel the slick coating her thighs. It was warm, sticky, and entirely uncomfortable. Kara knew that this would probably get her killed, but she was so horny that she just wanted her pain to end and needed someone to fill that ache.

With a bravery that presented itself from thin air, Y/N yelled, “Come and get me, Mr. Ghostface. I bet you can’t catch me.”

For a brief moment, Y/N wondered if she had made the correct decision. But when she saw the figure ghost face chasing after her, with a renowned figure, she knew that she had. Y/N took off once more, running into the woods. Her legs which were taught with exhaustion, pushed her through. If this ended, how she wanted it to you, she would die happy.

A game of chase was afoot- and Y/N was many things, but a final girl was not one of them. Ahead, Y/N could see a clearing. She could hear the fierce pounding of ghost face’s footsteps behind her, each step squelching on the mud-riddled forest floor.

Suddenly, Y/N felt two angry hands circle her waist before she was tackled to the ground. Ghostface wrangle Kara onto her back and pressed his knife against her throat. His presence loomed over her and she was trapped, he straddled her with knees on either side of her waist.

“What the actual fuck?” The garbled voice exclaimed, panting above her. Y/N could feel every inch of him through his black robes. His crotch just so happened to be place conveniently above hers and each time he moved, she could feel the friction in her most intimate parts.

“Do you have a death wish, blondie?” He asked, masked eyes boring into her soul. gulped, she could feel the edge of the knife pressed into her throat. Its blade was sharp, dangerous, and- oh fuck. YN’s orgasm caused her body to spasm, it left her breathless and listless. Ghostface pause upon feeling her trembling form beneath him. Tears, happy tears, began to stream down Kara’s face as she pleaded to the masked man atop her— “Please fuck me, Mr. Ghostface, I’ve been a real bad girl.”

The request seemed to startle him. Ghostie paused and withdrew his knife-laden hand from her throat. He sat back, now fully seated against Y/N’s groin.

“Oh, so that’s it, huh?” The modulated voice grunted out. “You’re just a filthy little slut?” Y/N fiercely nodded her head in response. She would do anything, be anything, and say anything to get what she wanted. Ghostface tilted his masked face to the side, as he pondered her offer.

Y/N had offered herself up on a silver platter. She didn’t care about what consequences would ensue afterwards, she was only focused on satisfying her need. Like some kind of depraved animal, Y/N shifted her hips up and humped into Ghostface. The masked man above her groaned, grinding down against her. This continued for a short while, bodies grinding together, desperate to gain a little bit of sweet friction. And Y/N did, she could feel ghostface hardening as they ground against one another.

Growling, ghostface tossed his signature knife to the side and stood, shuffling around with his pants beneath his robe.

“Get on your knees, bitch.” He barked. Clumsily, Y/N scattered to her knees. They dug into the wet earth, squelching into the mud. Y/N didn’t care.

Ghostface grunted as he freed his cock and slapped it against her cheek. Y/N was mesmerized, not just by his impressive member but also with the way his mask glowed in the moonlight. Fuck, she wanted to take a picture. She gave no thought to who might be under the mask and felt filthy as she found herself not caring. Her masked attacker was mysterious, dangerous, and the fact that she would never know who she was sent shocks right down to her clit.

Impatient, gloved hands gripped either side of her face, thumbs sliding in her mouth to open it.

“Open wide, slut.” Ghostface crooned, sliding his big appendage past her waiting lips. God, he had to be at least nine inches. Slobber began to dribble down Y/N’s neck and chest as ghostface set a merciless pace to fuck her throat. She could hear his gasps and pants as he entered her over and over and over again. Her throat burned with the friction, the sides of her mouth becoming sore as he held her stretched her mouth wide.

Y/N was incoherent and moaned each time ghostie slid his way further down her throat. It was a good thing she didn’t have a gag reflex, she was sure that if she tried to push him away that he would cut off her hands.

Groaning, ghostface pulled his hands from her mouth and grabbed a fistful of her hair, working her up and down against his crotch. His pace was brutal, and Y/N could feel herself gagging and she struggled to take the full force of his length. Y/N put her hands against his knees to try and steady herself. Ghostface paused his ministrations and yanked her head back, the pull against the back of her skull burned. It was delicious.

“What, too rough for the bad little bunny?” Y/N whimpered and shook her head.

“No, Mr. Ghostface. Anything for you. I want to be your good girl.”

Ghostface groaned and released her, tearing at his cloak. He ripped off a long chunk of the cloak and wrenched Y/N arms behind her back. He secured both of her wrists with the black material and pulled on them- the sting was delicious.

“Good sluts don’t use their hands, he chimed. Struggling as he peeled off the rest of his robe. Soon, ghostface stood in all of his nude glory, but kept his signature mask on. Y/N even through the mask, could feel him smirking.

“Oh what a pretty sight you are,” he breathed. Wiping some tears away from her eyes. He had literally torn the clothing away from Y/N body, leaving her cold and shriveling in the cool night air. Y/N was glowing, her soul was radiating with a happiness that couldn’t quite be explained. Long slender wrapped around her throat and squeezed. Y/N gasped, she could see stars. She moaned as the pressure increased and started rutting against the forest floor. She was no better than a bitch in heat.

“That’s right, baby,” ghostface expressed, “moan for me. I want to make you scream.” And suddenly, Y/N was being pushed into the muddy earth. Ghostface positioned her on her knees, molding her like clay. Her ass was sticking out into the air, and ghostface began to spank it.

“What a dirty girl you are,” he mused. “Do you want this cock in your tight quivering hole?” Y/N could have died right then and there. “Yes please, Mr. Ghostface.” Ghostface groaned as poked and prodded against her entrance. His thumb circled her other entrance and he popped the tip of it into her tight wring of muscle. Y/N eyes shot up in surprise. She wasn’t expecting butt stuff, but she wasn’t against it.

“Do you want this murderer to fuck all of your pretty holes? Huh? Do you want to get destroyed by my raging cock? Want me to make you a screaming mess until all you can do is cry and scream for more dick?” Y/N’s second orgasm ripped through her.

“Oh god, yes! Please! Anything you fucking want!” Ghost face slapped her ass as he wrapped a hand around her throat, pulling her flush against him. Y/N winced, her arms strained against their restraints and her thighs burned. But fuck, it was everything she had ever wanted.

Just as her vision began to blur, ghostface slammed into her pussy. The entrance was abrupt, there had been no prep. Y/N didn’t need it. She was so wet that she almost pushed him right back out.

“Ugh,” he moaned,”you’re so fucking wet. I could fuck this pretty pussy all day.” His sheer size had forced itself into her walls and with each thrust in, Y/N could feel him against her G-Spot.

Suddenly, she was being forced down. Ghostface had shoved his hand against the side of her head, and pressed her into the ground. As he pummeled into her pussy. Y/N let out animalistic groans as he pounded into her from behind. She could feel his hip bones against the curve of her ass each time he pounded into her. One hand made its way to her hair and drug her face up off of the ground and the other began kneeling itself against her ass. Ghostface then crept his free hand toward her asshole and began to scissor it.

Y/N started screaming. It was the best thing she had ever felt. She felt so full. As ghostface repeatedly pistoled his hungry cock into her desperate lips, Y/N felt herself approach her third orgasm.

She came just as he pulled out and forced her back on to her knees.

“Say ‘ah’,” ghost face ordered. And she did, Y/N stuck her tongue out like the good little slut she was. Ghost face grunted and groaned as he pulled at his cock to edge out his orgasm. He came on her face, in her mouth, in her hair, and on her chest. It was like raining gold.

Ghostface shoved the tip of his cock back into her waiting mouth.

“Suck it dry, bitch.” And she did. Y/N was literally on cloud nine. When ghostface pulled his soft cock out of her mouth, he pinched her jaw with two fingers and squeezed.

“Who’s your god now, slut?” She moaned as she sucked on a finger.

“You, Mr. Ghostface, thank you for wrecking my pussy.” He snorted as he began to dress and walk away.

“That’s my pussy now, bitch. I’ll come to collect again soon.”

[mcflymemes]

THE PARENT TRAP PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the 1998 film

what's going on?

i have class and you don't.

i'll tell you what i'm gonna do.

what was your mother like?

i agree. it totally sucks.

we actually did it!

still biting those nails, i see.

oh, don't do this to me. i'm already seeing double.

any of your pictures ruined?

it's time to break up this little love fest.

you're young, beautiful, sexy...

i may never be alone with you again.

what do you expect? to live happily ever after?

what did you call me?

yes. to all of the above.

ooh, let me help you with that.

you know, sometime if we're ever really alone maybe we could talk about what happened between us.

i'm sorry, it's just i've missed you so much.

get the picture?

it ended so fast.

wow, suddenly you're so interested in math!

have you seen your father?

i would pay big money to see that woman climb a mountain.

who are you, robert de niro? yes, i am talking to you.

you probably don't remember me...

if that's the way you want it, then let the games begin.

this arrangement really sucks.

come here, we have to talk.

i think there's something on your head.

i love oreos. at home, i eat them with peanut butter.

okay, sorry. got a little nervous!

the man went completely ashen like i was the bloody ghost of christmas past.

can one of you get something cold for my head?

this is so scary.

i promise i'll make your lives miserable.

i think it's an awesome idea. inspired. brilliant, really.

i know. it seems like it's been forever.

okay, on the count of three, we'll show them to each other.

this is beyond coincidence. this is beyond imagination!

i know she was really beautiful.

most people find that totally disgusting.

totally, it's like a dream come true.

will you stop thinking about your stomach at a time like this?

i'm really thirsty.

i think you're kind of missing the point.

hey, you sounded just like me!

i learned it at camp.

it's me or them.

let's discuss this calmly. calmly and rationally.

this is so scary.

i've never been so happy in my entire life.

i have a brilliant beyond brilliant idea!

excuse me?

may your life be far less complicated than mine.

that's where i have to go.

what are you doing here?

we were so young. we both had tempers, we said stupid things so i packed.

i made the mistake of not coming after you once. i'm not going to do that again no matter how brave you are.

what has gotten into you?

you didn't come after me.

that's perfectly... perfect. have fun.

you can't get married!

i'm not so hungry anymore.

that really doesn't matter anymore.

i suppose you just expect me to go weak at the knees, and fall into your arms, and cry hysterically.

don't shut your eyes!

i'm going to take the lead.

we have a butler?

we decided to switch places.

honey, you never looked better.

this is where we're eating?

that girl is without a doubt the lowest most awful creature to ever walk the planet.

can i hug her?

how exactly are we paying for this?

i'm supposed to, aren't i?

start unzipping.

go on, just do it.

i'm crawling back into bed, and sleeping 'til lunch.

i'll make you a little deal.

i didn't even know you spoke french.

nobody. forget i mentioned it.

i've loved you your whole life.

that does not sound like a possibility, babe.

it'll totally ruin completely everything!

you wanna know the real difference between us?

how did you know that?

that would be correct.

you have no idea.

mine's a pathetic little thing.

i just hope that one day you could love me as me.

thank you, thank you very much!

don't look at me. i don't know a thing.

you're g ood, but you're just not good enough.

what are you rummaging in your trunk for this time?

don't you realize what's happening?

this is so freaky.

if i didn't know any better, i'd say it's almost like you were... forget it. it's impossible.

i hope you're not mad because i love you so much.

loser jumps into the lake after the game.

i changed a lot over the summer.

i've never seen you and i've dreamt of meeting you my whole life.

[yardofangels]

Hi Iris! I just wanted to ask if you had any general head canons about König (your AU or just in general) that you’d want to share? Anything about his upbringing, love language, unhealed trauma ect. that you’d want to divulge? Also I absolutely love your writing. The way you write König is definitely one of my fav interpretations of his character.

OMGGGGGG IVE BEEN W A I T I N G FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM SO EXCITED YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND OSPDHVWEVNJWEGOH

thank you sm for your words!! im so flattered <333

for this one its going to be headcanons for my AU of könig. hope you enjoy!!

tw for implied verbal and emotional abuse, bullying, negative self-talk, mentions of locker-room talk, violence, and implied manipulation below the cut!!

könig's flaws and love language have a lot to do with his upbringing. don't get me wrong, it wasn't like what he'd heard of ghost's upbringing. könig had adequate food and shelter, and his parents never blatantly mistreated him. he was never kicked, or hit, never had things thrown at him; nothing was ever wildly hurtful.

but what he had suffered built up over the course of 17 years and had impacts that lasted much longer. shit that he's still trying (not) to work through today. shit that stayed deep within his psyche, that he came back to every time he failed and shit that whispered down his neck, telling him to push himself further.

from the outside looking in, he came from an entirely normal family. his mama and papa loved each other. they went to church every sunday, and beamed when people complimented how tall their boy was getting. könig was spoiled because he was an only child and never had to share the attention. he excelled greatly in the subjects of mathematics and science from the time he was 8 and received recognition for this at school.

but the outside never gets to see how bad you're hurting, does it?

he'll never forget the way his mother straightened his collar, scolding him centimetres away from his face, reminding him that if he gets anything less than a 19/20 on the upcoming test, he'll have no hope of being anything to them.

he still can't seem to shake the look on his father's face when his mother ranted and raved about how könig had tarnished their entire reputation by questioning the teacher's authority, how he was a disgraceful and humiliating child. the way his papa's bushy eyebrows pinched, and he ran a hand over his buzzed hair. the look that screamed 'if i say anything, she'll attack me too.'

none of it was loud. everything his mama ever did to him was only ever alluding to him being the worst thing she had ever done. it was the words, the mind games, and the inability to fight back. he was trapped as a youth. trapped in a household that yelled 'i love you', and whispered 'but only when you are my projection of what you should be.'

of course, it didn't stop there, either. he was torn into relentlessly at school, too. it was much like his home life, except with the added bonus of being thrown into trees and having his face dunked under sinks for extended periods of time.

y'know, typical kid stuff.

they grabbed at anything they could with him. his love of space, his braces (that never really did much to help his teeth in the end), his height, his size, his stutter. all of it. anything that indicated that he was different to the rest of the population was like a big, red target on his back.

what they did at school further cemented in his brain what he learnt at home.

you are worth nothing. you contribute nothing. you are nothing. all you are is an outsider. all you can be is an outsider. you are not attractive. you are not talented. you offer nothing. you are nothing.

this treatment from ages 0-17 is what led to his deeper flaws emerging from 17-25. his frequently infrequent contact with his mother and father, his tendency to distance himself from the other cadets, his daydreams of violence.

he didn't like crying. it sent memories of sobbing in the PE closet and into his pillow flooding back. he preferred to push it down, ignore it, and forget it happened. he would much rather be the first one out at target practice.

he still stuttered. so, he stopped talking. he resorted to closing his mouth, to wearing a bandana, to wearing a balaclava, to wearing his t-shirt. he liked fading into the background, even though his build wouldn't ever really allow it. he hated socialising. at first it was because it made him so nervous (it still does, but he won't admit that). he couldn't find the right words to make himself likable. after a while, he came to resent it. why was everyone else able to pick it up with such ease, but not him? where was the fairness in that? he eventually stopped seeing much point in speaking up more than necessary.

and girls never took interest in him during high school, so he didn't expect them to now. he was never upset with the women, he wouldn't blame them if they wanted nothing to do with him. it was his fellow cadets that drove him insane. talking of a new bird every day, objectifying them, degrading them. part of him wanted to join in; share this bond they seemingly had, talk about his own girl he used up. they made it sound so good. but a bigger part of him was wildly jealous and horrifyingly enraged at what they could say at times. it filled him with a fire that he couldn't quite understand.

this didn't stop him from a go on the local barrack bunny here and there. just to prove to himself that he wasn't entirely devoid of feeling.

he couldn't really pinpoint when the violence arose in him. it just. appeared to him one day. he realised while standing over another limp body that he'd killed someone and enjoyed it. that he'd taken their power away, just like his mother had done to him. his mother who had now disowned him for staying in the army for so long. his mother he wanted to destroy. his mother whom he could never destroy, so he destroys others instead.

eventually, he started pushing the limits everywhere he went. the more settled he got in himself as a man, the more he acted out. this is what landed him in jail. his rash decisions, his anger, his lack of all other emotion. it was eating away at him behind those bars, and he itched to take it further.

that itch only got stronger when he met you. you, who he now had to protect. you, who he saw meaning in. you, who saved him from being consumed by his darkness.

könig doesn't love in a particularly healthy way. i mean, i think that isn't too surprising given what he went through and subsequently put himself through. he loves possessively, he loves obsessively, he loves as if there is nothing else in the world but you and him.

to him, love has no definition. it has no 'right and wrong' other than hurting the person you love. if he has to hide something from you, it's because he doesn't want to lose you. if he has to use his words to twist your mind, it's so you never lose sight of him. if he has to protect you from the world, by any means necessary, it's worth it. if it's you, it's worth it.

he sees no problem in doing morally grey, or even impure things if it means you stay with him. after all, he loves you. you wouldn't deny him, would you? don't you love him too?

he knows it'll never get to the stage where you question him, though. he can see you are wholly dedicated to him. it's only more fuel to him being able to do what he wants to you. he knows if you were aware, you'd like it.

in terms of love languages, könig's biggest is physical touch. he just loves that skin-to-skin contact with you. he loves how much bigger he is compared to you, he loves wrapping himself around you, to the point where it almost looks like you two are one entity. you're just so soft and warm; he can't ever get enough of, in some way, having your skin on his.

aside from that, you'll often find that he shows his love in acts of service. anything from sweeping the kitchen to building a house, if he can serve you or protect you, he'll do it. he's unsure where this tendency came from in him. he just enjoys keeping busy.

he particularly appreciates words of affirmation from you. something he never really received growing up. he would never ask you to praise him, never even admit that he likes it. but when you slip the occasional 'you're so good to me, baby' or 'this is wonderful, you did amazing', he melts. he's a sucker for being told he's good enough, or that he did well.

könig sure as hell isn't perfect, but he's working on being better for you. he's doing what he can to make sure you never see the vulnerable child in him. the wrathful teenager. the uncaring man. he wants you to have the best of him.

and you do, because you bring it out in him naturally.

-------

yeah!! that's it!!! i tried desperately to not talk to much but there's just so much to say. so many things that this post could lead to.

thank you so much for reading this far!! pls reblog if you like it, and send in more requests!! it makes my day!!!

[mrfancyfoot]

Raphael x Evie (f!OC)

Fic Rating: E/Varied | Chapter 1: AO3 + Tumblr | Master List

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Chapter 16: (Blood)lust Pt.2 "Raphael interrupts Haarlep’s scheme of sabotage and then has to figure out what to do with a very angry fox."

< Previous Chapter: Ch. 15 (Blood)lust Pt.1 | Next Chapter: Ch. 17 Violet* >

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I HC that when Haarlep has someone’s form, there’s a mutual ability for both parties to be able to feel echoes of varying degrees of sensations, most notably pleasure and pain. The stronger the sensation, the more the other can feel it, but it will never be like they are experiencing it themself.

❤️ Thanks for reading! :3 ❤️

Please mind the tags/warnings!

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Ch. Rating: E / NSFW Ch. Word Count: ~1.1k Ch. Tags: POV Raphael; Unexpected Frenzied Bloodlust Reaction to an Aphrodisiac Ch. Warnings: Haarlep; Implied Sexual Assault (non-consensual touching and kissing - carried over from events of Pt.1); After Effects of Non-Con Drugging/Aphrodisiac (Incubus Venom); Restraints (carried over from events of Pt.1); Blood/Injury; Sleep Spell

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Read under the cut or on AO3-

Haarlep’s moments of growing and abating arousal were nothing unusual to brush off.

His writing paused when there came taps and pricks against his chest and a roaming pressure against his mouth and tongue.  They were with someone…

After what could only be the phantom pinch of fangs clipping his lip and then tearing into his hand so deeply that the sensation of pain crossed over to him, Raphael shot up from his desk in a fury, his intuition warning him that something was awry.  Did they-?  A flash later, he was in the boudoir-

-looking down upon a scene he would never have anticipated.

Evie had been chained to the headboard and Haarlep's head was between her legs…being strangled by her thighs.

He felt the ghost of pressure around his own throat and their hitches of breath while Haarlep struggled to free themself, their claws carving into her and leaving behind welts and deep streaks of blood that beaded and welled to drip and soak the sheets below.

The incubus managed to pry her grip and flung themself backwards from the bed, stumbling to the ground gracelessly - but not before the fox’s claws raked their flank in a wayward kick.

The yowl that came out of the fox while she twisted and pulled at her bindings promised murder should she break free.

Beautifully ferocious screams of a trapped fox gone completely feral.

Raphael grinned at Haarlep, malicious and sharp.  His hand waved down the visage of the toppled incubus.  “I should allow her the privilege of killing you for so deliberately disobeying me,” his voice sunk to a hiss through his clenched teeth as his hands tensed with the strain of holding himself back.

Raphael did not miss the flash of uncertainty from Haarlep before they hopped to their feet and slunk into an attempt to play up their charms that were not going to work this time - not while he was so enraged over their malignant scheming.  

They approached with swaying hips and hands splayed disarmingly as they put on a gleeful facade and echoed his gesture at the thrashing fox.  “It would seem my venom manifests as blood lust in this little hellhound.  A thrilling surprise!  Master, we can-”

His hand shot out, wrapping his claws around their neck and squeezing to cut them off before they could start spinning excuses and pleas.

They would not weasel their way out of this.

“Out of my sight!”

With a snap, the incubus was gone - bound in the dungeons to deal with later.

As much as he would prefer to extract the price of their indiscretions immediately.

With a huff, he rolled his head to the fox, still trying to free herself from the cuffs that rubbed her wrists bloody and appearing about to gnaw at her own flesh and bones to free herself.  “How far gone are you?” he asked rhetorically.  As expected, he received no reply but incoherent, beastly snarls that he was in no mood to analyze.

For what they had been attempting to achieve - compliance compelled by heightened arousal from someone reluctant to submit to their will - Haarlep had gone overboard for any frenzy to be this extreme.  Their venom inflamed arousals that were already present - be they of lust, greed, gluttony, wrath…  For a stubborn fox that they failed to seduce at all, this was the most likely outcome.  They well knew this and yet still took the risk, then hoping he conveniently forgot that knowledge amidst this fallout.  Just as he had not until mere hours ago, Haarlep may not have known the extent to which they had already earned her ire.

With a sneer and barely controlled wrath, Raphael spied more of her crimson blood painting her belly from where the incubus had clawed at her to get away.  Its scent was provoking him.  From his own hand, he may have taken pleasure in the sight, but being spilled by another’s - explicitly against his orders - colored his vision red.

The torn and messy gash across Haarlep’s hand was no doubt the cause of the blood smeared across her mouth and face.  He felt a flash of pride.

The incubus had underestimated her resistance and fighting spirit.

And he had underestimated Haarlep’s drive to interfere.

His mind whirled to account for all possible outcomes.

He may not yet own her soul but the fox was within his care at present by virtue of his own invitation.

Had she been a willing lover of Haarlep’s, this may have played out differently.  However, there was little that he could do on the matter until she was coherent once more.

Plan determined, Raphael strode to the bed and half-knelt upon its edge to reach out, pressing his fingers to her forehead.  It took a much stronger sleep spell than expected to overcome the frenzy caused by the venom, but at last she was still.

He gently ran his knuckles down her cheek.

He would have control.

There would be order!

She was released from the cuffs, cleansed, and healed.  He tucked her between fresh linens.

A mockery of how he imagined her first in his bed.

It would be some time before the venom and sleep spell wore off on their own.  He had eyed the drawer containing a vial of incubus anti-venom countless times - force it down her throat, wake her up, send her on her way - however, there was a need to ensure Haarlep had not irreparably damaged what he had fostered with the fox.  While doubtful that she would be able to recount much, if anything, of what led up to and occurred during its influence, he refused to take that chance.  It was necessary to steel himself for damage control - be prepared to soothe and assure that the monster was gone, to find a way to contort this to his advantage.

The chaos and discord that clung to him like sticky tar were washed away as he bathed in the adjacent pool and regained composure.  A calculated decision was made to switch to his human form prior to her awakening.  He robed himself in fresh silk and momentarily basked in the feeling of the cool fabric slipping over his flesh.

Feeling the weariness that had doggedly pursued him the last day settle into his bones, he twisted to sit upon the bed and pushed himself to recline into pillows braced against the headboard.

He would stay to guard her and get some much needed rest of his own, confident in the knowledge that he would awaken well before her.  There was much to think on and a mind clear of exhaustion was needed.

His hand rose and the room was sealed and dimmed.

❤️ Thank-you for reading!! Please consider liking & reblogging.❤️

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