#Twisted Spooky Sexy Event

[arabaka]

for darya's spooky sexy event, the cabin

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸ nsfw. reader is a kitsune in heat. noncon (turns consensual). somnophilia. m!receiving oral. masturbation. unprotected sex. somewhat proofread lol. wc: 2.2k.

🤍 MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🤍

Your heat comes on a Monday, without warning and little time to prepare. After all… This was your first cycle.

You wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. You had thought it was strange, that you’d reverted to your instinctual nocturnal sleeping habits as of late, but had ultimately chalked it up to the change in weather. And your boyfriend, Reigen, had been so understanding. Lightly stepping around the apartment when the dusk has barely set because his night may be beginning but you’ve long started slumbering… Keeping the lights low when you’ve passed out because you just can’t get used to sleep masks… 

Such a sweetheart.

So… Why… 

Why are you looking at him like this? Your eyes are half-lidded with sleep but something else, something that’s making your blood run hot and your heart rattle. 

You’re not seeing Reigen Arataka, your boyfriend. You’re seeing Reigen Arataka, your prey.

This is wrong… Sure, Reigen’s never turned down an opportunity to have sex; he’ll say no to after-work invites if he’s too tired but hell, he’ll fuck you even if he’s only half-awake. You lick your lips, setting aside your moral code and logic like you’re having an out-of-body experience. Maybe… Maybe he won’t wake up…

You move forward trepidly, crawling on all fours and distributing your weight as lightly as possible so as not to dip the mattress too much. You end up lying low, your legs between one of his and your ass up, clit on his upper shin, while your hands gingerly start one article of clothing at a time… You’re careful to pinch the ruched hemline of his pajama pants, tugging them just enough to get at his boxer briefs. 

His cock is soft, the glans barely poking out from the lining of his foreskin with a vein running a light ridge from the base to the head. You lower your head, and able to just sweep it up in your mouth, start to suck. 

The taste is divine. It’s unrepressed, intrinsically appealing to the hormones currently controlling your every action, and it’s making your head so dizzy. Your tail swishes in softening ways, lowering to the curve of your bottom and legs as you satisfy your oral fixation. His flaccid cock is so hot in your mouth, the taste so overpowering and the aroma still wafting in your nostrils. His musk is sharp and pungent, only making you suck more. 

Which is starting to become too much for Reigen to ignore in his sleep. Your eyes flicker up, the movements of his eyes underneath his closed lids barely visible in the moonlight pouring in from the blinds but you know it won’t be long now before he wakes. Reigen’s always been so sensitive, the kind to let loose a loud, rumbling moan when you first take him in your mouth, so it should be obvious that there will be no getting away with this.

Reigen’s lips press together into a wobbly, strained line, only breaking for short puffs of air that only have a hint of a moan interlaced throughout. You watch as his chest starts to stutter, his cock starting to twitch dully over your tongue. You can’t get enough of the taste, pursing your lips to suck more of the flavor as though this will be the last time you get to experience it.

Ha, not a chance in Hell of that happening.

You notice though, that this is working. The clench between your legs, the pump running to your clit, is starting to twist, stimulating your nerves in just the right way. You ready your fingers, starting with just one (though you’re sure the pool of arousal in your panties would be more than enough) to match the pace at which you’re sucking Reigen’s cock. This makes you start to moan; how could it not? You now have two fingers currently scissoring into your flexing, hot walls and while it’s not enough… It’ll do.

Reigen’s eyelids start twitching awake, his eyelashes rubbing together as the movement just underneath quickens. He’s still asleep, but a dream is nowhere to be found. His subconscious is latching onto the pleasure, his hips sporadically jerking up as though it’s instinct for him now. More natural to be in your mouth than out. 

He whines, the gurgling sound so soft but loud in the room that’s stayed still since you started. His lips start to run against each other and his knuckles flex fistfuls of the bedsheets. 

But he still doesn’t wake up.

You’re sucking his cock awake, the blood rush pushing a healthy helping of pre-cum through the slit. The droplets are tangy and they just keep coming. You start swallowing them as they well up, relishing in the feeling of liquid oozing down your throat. Your fingers curl around nothing.

You need to do more than just taste him.

You need to touch him, feel him in your palms.

But you also need him inside your pussy; your hole is quivering too much, your fingers becoming less and less satisfying the longer you drool on Reigen’s cock to the base. You start swiping your hips along Reigen’s leg, barely able to brush your clit in this compromising position. You’re someone that needs that pretty, puffy hood stimulated under a finger or toy and yet, it’s still not enough.

“H-Haaa… Mmmf…” You bite your lip, thinking maybe the pain will start to quell the overwhelming pulse for more between your legs but it doesn’t. You run your mouth off Reigen’s dick, letting it spring out of your mouth with your spit trickling down his undershaft. You tremble and shake, your legs prickling with pins and needles as you slowly rise. You struggle to steady yourself but force yourself to; the last thing you need is toppling over Reigen in this position because you’re starting to figure, if he hasn’t woken up yet…

He probably won’t now.

Your panties cling to your pussy lips, your cunt pumping out fresh globs of slick uncontrollably. You can only push the underpad to the side, hold it there while you lower your hips until the head of his cock is right up against your slit. Despite being more than ready for him, for this, the pressure is still an initial barrier. You wriggle, making his cockhead gather up the rivers of your succulent sap before trying again. 

And…

And…

“Hnnnngg….” Reigen drawls out, the delicious groan sounding a little more breathy and vacant. You start to feel your walls part for him, the intrusion so dense it makes your eyes flutter back. You slide down to the base first before having fun with it, oscillating your hips back and with a halo swing coming back up just to have his cockhead rub against all of you. 

“F-Fuck, ‘Taka…” You barely get out before a shaky inhale. Your mouth is barely able to keep the following string of rolling moans and rumbling hums from bubbling to the surface. He just feels that good.

He always feels that good.

Reigen is squirming now, unable to stop the familiar thrust of his hips but the motion is muted. You’re putting in most of the work, gliding his cock all the way up until your entrance is tightening around the root. He is unable to stop throbbing inside you, forcing your hand to quicken and strengthen your bouncing, humping his pelvis for that clit stimulation you so adore.

“F-Fah… F-F-Ffff…” You incoherently hiss, leaning back and grinding out this new angle in sheer ecstasy with your eyes closing and your jaw slacking.

That’s when you feel two claws cinching the flesh at your hips, the tenacity and and unexpectedness of the grip making you gasp and shoot open your eyes. Your gaze quickly flickers from the ceiling to Reigen, the man wide awake and breathless.

“I knew it…” 

“H-Huh?” You stammer, trying to keep your voice as hushed as his is but no dice, his cock being so snug and so far inside you still stirring the passion in your nerves. Your fluffy ears fold briskly, twitching as you breathe.

“I-In heat…” He chokes out, though whether that’s because his throat is parched or he’s also feeling the overwhelming sensation is up for debate. “You’re in heat.”

Reigen, his bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, starts his own pace into you, his thighs running flush against yours and already sticking together with perspiration of your own. You can see his jaw tightening, his expression depicting just how easily lost he can get in your warmth, but you’re still stupefied by two things:

That he predicted your cycle and…

That he’s already fucking you, less than a minute into full consciousness.

“Hmmmnggg.” You growl, the hum only growing louder when one of Reigen’s hands leaves your hip for your pussy instead. His thumb presses deep against your clit before rolling the edge around and around, already at a pace and angle he knows drives you insane. “A-Arat-taka…!”

“I knew and – s-s-shit … – I knew and I was waiting for this…” Reigen moans, chin tucked to his chest as he watches his cock disappear between your folds, your skin glittering with arousal. “Been waiting for this…” He repeats, more like a whisper this time. He starts breathing audibly through his nose, desperate whines and pants leaving his mouth as your bounces become faster, harder.

“G-Gonna… Gonna be a lot to handle this week, ‘T-Taka… Or two…” You tease, mouth parted with your tongue poking out over your bottom lip. “Gonna need a lot of your cum to get me through it…” 

God, you sound delicious like this. Euphoria in every word. Pleasure in every syllable. Your voice is flighty and your flirty remarks sound lewder this way. It’s making him crazy.

“Mmm, anytime… Anywhere… I’ll take care of you.” Reigen bites his lip, feeling like he’s right on the edge of his orgasm as he’s talking. “Got – mmmf – Got a desk at the office with your name on it, h-haaa…” 

God, if there’s anything Reigen’s gotten too good at, it’s sex talk.

Your hand navigates south so that you have one handling the balancing and the other strumming your throbbing clit. Reigen takes the hint, hands finally both on your hips and with force, tugs you on his cock. He goes at a rate, with the strength, that grips and strokes his foreskin in a way that makes his balls tighten and his breathing quicken.

“Right there, right there!” You cry, the tremors from Reigen’s thrusts shooting currents of raw pleasure up your spine, frying your brain so that you’re rendered a dumb, moaning mess for the man underneath you. 

“Mmmmng– a-ahhhh…” The sounds of your bodies sticking and slapping together is profane enough but Reigen’s noises, so depraved and ravenous for more, make the experience all the more gratifying. “G-God, s-so gooood…” He’s starting to lose the eloquence in his voice, the stability in his words, the complexity of his thought. “H-Haa! H-Haa! H-Haa!” He is groaning this out in large gulping exhales. “Y-Yes… Yes…”

You feel so good. How can you feel this good?

He’s guessing it’s the stage you’re at in your estrous circuit that’s making you feel so much firmer, so much hotter than usual. He’s also sure you’re secreting something, something that’s making his skin even more sensitive than usual while also increasing the intensity of all sensations. It’s so addicting, so fulfilling that Reigen can’t help but let loose and let his thrusts become more ragged, reducing the interval between every slam of his hips to a zero; he’s pounding into you every second he can, somehow doing this so fast and so hard that it’s overwhelming you.

“‘T-T-Taka!!!” You cry out, your entire system rocked and left in shambles. Your tail is thwipping high in the air, mimicking the puckering of your hole. You gush all around him, so much that it freely flows down his length and over his pelvis. Reigen’s balls are slapping your cunt hard and that thudding denseness is making your walls shiver and clench around his cock as he fucks you full of his cum until there’s a nice bubbling froth of your slick and his swelling up and out between your bodies.

Even when he’s done cumming, he’s got his hands grabbing the undercurve of your ass, whining with a trend that matches his slow, impassioned humps into you.  He’s moaning until his hips come to a modest rock. 

You’re both panting, head fuzzy and vision jittery, and unable to even verbalize just how… How…

Amazing it all felt.

“Mmm, ‘Taka…” You’re audibly swooning, “That was… So good…” 

“I know…” 

With Reigen’s cock still stuffed inside, you lean in and whisper, “Gonna need you to take care of me a lot this week…” Your kisses on his skin are languid, leaving smooching sounds in their wake that are wet and provocative. You’re so zoned out doing this that when Reigen’s hips start jutting up into you again, it’s a jolt to reality and pushes a high-pitched squeak from your throat.

“G-Gonna… Go again… You can handle it, right? You can handle it right…” Reigen mindlessly slurs in a hush as his grip on your hips solidifies and his cock starts slamming into you. 

Looks like you won’t be the only insatiable animal this week.

[finniestoncrane]

So I just got back from a work Halloween party and I was thinking how would the rouges spend their Halloween?

Rogues On Halloween

Rogue Headcanons/Scenarios tis the season and all, i shifted this up the queue because i really liked it as an idea anon! 💜🎃🧡 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff:

riddler

guess which asshole isn't handing out sweets unless the kids can answer his riddle? this one. and he doesn't even have a good assortment of sweets, just weird sour apple ones. and later he has a halloween themed trivia night to go to, just to spoil the fun by winning as a team of one (because he's smart enough alone, not because no one wanted to go with him) costume: batman, but in a mocking way, it's not admiration! no he didn't already have the outfit, ok maybe the cowl...and...shut up

scarecrow

ah his most favourite holiday. so first up in the candy, which is in a bowl waiting for kids to help themselves, that way the lucky one who gets the piece laced with fear toxin is entirely down to fate. then, outside to stand in amongst the 10 or so fake scarecrows he has set up so he can jumpscare some poor unsuspecting trick-or-treaters, and then out to the cornfield to pose once again and ruin some teenagers' fun costume: the scarecrow, but from the wizard of oz, which is what he'll tell people who comment on his lack of costume

poison ivy

ivy is spending halloween at a fair where she's entering a pumpkin she grew in a contest. she's at a bit of an advantage obviously. but it's nice to spend some time with likeminded people who also treat their plants like their children. afterwards, she was going to head to the botanical gardens and prune the poisonous plants to get into the spooky mood costume: audrey II, but like a sexy version of her, in that she is wearing a giant round head on her body and has fishnets on

penguin

he's overseeing the costume contest at the iceberg lounge, where it doesn't matter how much effort you put in because the prettiest people always win. and then he'll make sure to head home in time to watch a spooky movie with a special someone, using any excuse to hold them as close to him as possible. he's perfect for hugging when it gets too tense costume: in a gesture he hopes means he'll get to the joke before someone else, he's just wearing a penguin onesie for the evening

harvey

harvey is spending his halloween at home at first, deciding whether his guests get a trick or a treat with the flip of his coin. a treat, you can have full sized bars or some money if he runs out, treat it's best not to ask. afterwards, he's out on the town finding people dressed up in "twin" outfits so he can take them both home. one for each of him hehe. costume: in a twist of events, harvey has gone as harv, and harv has gone as harvey, and it's fucking terrifying

harley quinn

it's spooky movie time, definitely something with a strong final girl moment, maybe where she beats the villain, to a bloody pulp, and maybe the villain is a clown? either way, she's going to eat so much candy she's sick, and you better be there to hold her hair back when the rainbow coloured vomit spews forth. and even though you're just sitting on the sofa together, she will insist that matching costumes are worn costume: you guys are going as her beloved bud and lou, cute little ears and faces painted too

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Spooky Halloween Two-Shot Edition, part 1

“Well, if we don’t get the money the bank is going to foreclose on the orphanage and sell it to Old Man Keraptis! Who wants to turn it into a haunted amusement park!” "Rhett Surt, professional insurance instigator.” “I’m sure he’s just deeply misunderstood.” "I'm pretty sure he's a lich.” "We gotta do this tonight. In the event I'm right and he IS a lich, word has it he's gonna be out in the marshes, screaming at the moon with the Wizards of Whatley place. That gives us a window, assuming Mr. Johnson hasn't screwed us.” "Wait, Jotunsdotter. Are you related to a giant?” Janna shrugs. “Mom never really talked about dad much. Said he was slippery, silvertongued and tied up somewhere these days.” Shank nods: "Ah yes... those types often end up like that when they get into trouble they can't talk their way out of.” “This place is… unclean. I mean, it’s filthy, but it’s also unholy.” "Don't be silly, there are plenty of holes.” "Never split up in a spooky place that a religious person says is unholy!” "Ah, a wine cellar. Good vintage. Peanut of the Night.” From the pit, four large man sized mushrooms with long tendrils emerge. "I've read enough Tijagnoman Bibles to know where this is going!” Suddenly there is a gnome among you, in a long elven cloak clasped with the symbol of Poom, God of Suddenly Being There. Will: "Sorry I'm late: had to make sure the Truck wasn't following me.” You dodge the first tendril, but the other two grab your wrists. You slip out easily, but where the fungi touched you your skin bubbles and sloughs away. "Gah! I hate mushrooms so much.” "But they are tasty sautéed with wine.” The fungi are fun died. "Well done! That was unpleasant. What on the planes are they? and why are they here?” "Someone forgot to clean the basement for a decade or two?” "Time to head upstairs, no way I'm going to the Underdark: I've got enemies down there.” “And they have sexy spider ladies! I mean, regular spider ladies!” "I don’t see any journals, or strange discs. Or unmelted hands.” All these spirits are long since spoiled, or infected with fungi and mold. They might make serviceable vinegar, or give you a really bad trip before eating through your small intestine. The freezer opens with some effort. Its very dark and cold inside, several large sides of beef hang inside. The closest one is covered with what appears to be maggots. "That does not look like it is well-aged beef.” "We got a skitterer!” “This place has problems. We need a property flipper.” ”Rot grubs. Jeebus H Koala, this is no milk run.” “...This place is in dire need of an exterminator... or some arson.” "Yeah, let’s save the murderbasement for the return trip.” “Oh, hello, Mr. Squeekers!” "Probably stole some cheese from the larder.” ��I think anything from this house's Larder more likely to eat the rat.” "Alright. This. Nobody said anything about running into this twisted nature and abominations. Did I miss a note that was passed around? Am I the only one out of the loop on this one?” "We're robbing a lich. What, you think this is Gravesoil parish with the chainsaw ponies?” “Those ponies are surprisingly polite.” "It'd take some omniphobic weirdo with too light a constitution for math to make that up.” "I found the door guys, let’s...Oh score that's a Pickman original.” "Is that a Owlplatypus?” "Okay, standard rules, grab anything that—the FUCK is that?” [insert Great Race of Yith picture] "Some kind of sea life, maybe?” “Fuck this shit with a dragon dildo. Let’s get the fuck out of this fucking fuck.” "It's like one of them mind-flayers banged a roper…" "Shank, you back in there?” “Yes. Now excuse me I need to stab a bitch in a glass case.” "Well, he's not smiling, so that's a maybe?” And as for you goblin. You should feel honored one of your kin was chosen to host one of the Great Race of Yith. “Wow. You are super racist. We don’t go for that kind of thing around here! Anymore!” I am not racist. All races are equally inferior to the Great Race. “Yes. That’s being racist!” "Yeah, but we weren't the ones with so much cotton stuffed up the ass that I expect you to cough up sheep.” "And Jeebus did say FORK YOU!” We have enemies. The flying Polyps. “If you’re over 40 you’re supposed to test for those every few years.” It sounds like a cat having angry sex with an accordion. OOC: So voiced by Gilbert Godfrey. Gotcha. Stop. Stabbing me. You. Stupid. Subcreature. “We aren’t subs! Well, I’m usually not, and I just me they rest so… you shouldn’t make assumptions!” Will looks down (well, sideways) at the dead alien. "So we're all agreed? We get out, torch the place, and tell the Goonion we found it like that?” "Is it the Truck, man? Is the truck coming for us?” GM: No, Truck-Kun is on another job today. "Okay. I know we said everything goes into the bag... But put the windows back.” "Mr Van Ghoul!?”

[noisycowboyglitter]

Halloween Fun: Daddy’s Little Witch Costume Essentials for Spooky Season

"Daddy's Little Witch Halloween" conjures an adorable image of a father-daughter duo celebrating the spooky season with a magical twist. This concept revolves around a young girl dressed as a charming little witch, accompanied by her doting dad who fully embraces his role in her enchanting world.

Buy now:19.95$

The little witch is decked out in a pint-sized witch costume, complete with a pointed hat adorned with stars, a miniature broomstick, and perhaps a stuffed black cat familiar tucked under her arm. Her costume might feature a tutu-style skirt in purple or black, adding a playful touch to the traditional witch attire.

Dad, playing his part perfectly, could be dressed as a wizard or warlock to complement his daughter's costume. Alternatively, he might opt for a t-shirt that proudly proclaims "Daddy's Little Witch's Familiar" or "Spell-Bound Dad," showcasing his commitment to his daughter's Halloween fantasy.

Buy now

Together, they make a heartwarming pair as they traverse the neighborhood for trick-or-treating. Dad might carry a cauldron-shaped bucket for his little witch's candy, or perhaps a wand to "cast spells" alongside her. He's there to tie shoelaces, adjust crooked hats, and provide a reassuring hand when approaching spooky decorations.

This scene captures the special bond between father and daughter, highlighting how parents can fuel their children's imagination and join in the make-believe. It's a sweet reminder that Halloween isn't just about scares, but also about family bonding and creating magical memories together.

Buy now

This description presents a tasteful take on adult costume ideas for Halloween or other themed events:

"Sexy Kinky Custom Men Women" refers to provocative costume options for adults looking to add a daring edge to their outfits. These customizable ensembles cater to various preferences, allowing both men and women to express their sensual side.

Designs might include sleek leather accents, strategically placed cutouts, or form-fitting materials that accentuate the wearer's physique. Options could range from stylized versions of classic roles like nurses or firefighters to more fantasy-inspired looks.

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While revealing, these costumes maintain a balance between allure and tasteful presentation. They're perfect for couples seeking coordinated outfits or individuals wanting to make a bold statement at adult-oriented parties.

Customization options ensure that wearers can adjust coverage and style to their comfort level, allowing for personal expression within the "sexy and kinky" theme.

[twistedsin]

Professor Peacock in the Kitchen with...

Twisted Halloween Event: Vil Schoenheit 

Costume: Peacock 

Rather than making it a literal bird costume, I went in a Clue direction where each character is based on a color. You are Inspector Indigo. 

I also totally feel like Vil would throw a murder mystery party.  

Vil stood over the dead sleeping body of Silver lying on the floor at his feet. He was dressed in a suit, the pants and jacket were a peacock blue. The lapel was layered with peacock feathers, and there were also a few on the wrists and the cuffs of his pants. His shirt was a light brown, with a deep green vest and a teal blue color shift scarf that had a golden peacock pin that resembled the look of the bird on his throne. His usual purple hair dye was a darker blue, and his eye shadow an expert blend of all the cool shades on his costume with lips tinted violet. 

“Does everyone understand the instructions?" A brief pause. Deuce in the back started to raise his hand but Vil simply continued on. "Good.” Vil wasn’t keen on repeating himself anyway.  “Now it’s time to investigate. I suggest you pair off. Inspector Indigo is already my partner.” There was a disappointed sigh amongst most of the other guests who had been hoping to have you as a partner and spend some time alone with you in the dark hallways of Pomefiore. 

It caught you off guard that Vil would pick you. Maybe it was because you had been showing good detective work with helping out the overblot incidents and having to figure out your way through and entirely different world? It didn't totally matter, you were thrilled regardless knowing it meant you got to have some alone time with Vil. Also being paired with the host of a murder mystery party probably had some benefits. Or would make you the next victim. 

“Well then, Inspector Indigo, where would you like to investigate first.” Vil asked, moving to your side as most of the others started heading off on their own. 

“Oh well hm…” You opened your notebook and began thumbing through the pages. “Let’s go to the kitchen” 

Vil looked unimpressed with your choice. 

“Well it’s just that, it’s probably the room with the most knives and th-those are good weapons so it seems like the most obvious place to check."

"Very well." With a sigh Vil turned and began leading you to the kitchen. 

🦚

When they two of your arrived, everything seemed normal. Pots hung from the ceiling, all knives were in the block, everything clean and in its place. "Everything looks normal..." You ponder, entering and beginning to count the items and inspecting them. 

"Just because it looks normal doesn't mean nothing has been tampered with. Plenty of the guests are quite diligent and would be sure to have left little to no trace." Vil began looking around himself, making notes with his Peacock tailfeather pen that matched his outfit.

You began going through the drawers, all of them. "Potato." You felt Vil pressing against you from behind, his hands resting on either side of you trapping you against the counter beneath him. "Are you really going to go through everything piece by piece?" 

You shivered slightly from the feeling of his breath on the back of your neck. "W-well,"  You had thought it was a good plan, but maybe he had another idea. Suddenly you were getting nervous, he was so close and well rather intimidating usually. You gulped and slowly turned yourself around to face him.

"It will take to long for too little result, Inspector." His face was so close to yours, his breath smelled nice too. "There are more pressing things that need to be investigated. Wouldn't you agree?" The end of his pen caressed your cheek and rested over your mouth as you opened it to answer. "For example, I want to know why you haven't complimented my look yet. Do you not like my costume"

You shook your head frantically, "N-no.. It's just.. I..." 

"Use your words, quit sputtering."

You took a deep breath, "You were busy when I arrived, I didn't want to bother you with yet another compliment. I'm sure you had already gotten a lot. I really do like your outfit Vil. You look beautiful, as usual." Oh wait that could be misconstrued. Maybe that wasn't what he wanted to hear. It wasn't quite what you felt. "I-I just mean.. you're always beautiful! And you're e-even more beautiful with the dif-ferent colors. It suits you, I-I'm sure that anything would lo- hm!" 

You find yourself unable to talk as Vil's lips press onto yours. He holds a moment, tongue grazing over your bottom lip before pulling away with a soft breath. "You started stuttering again. It seems your tongue needs to be exercised more." 

Did he just, kiss you. You were in shock. The Vil Schoenheit just kissed you. You felt like you could faint. The counter was doing a lot of work to keep you up right.  And what was this about your mouth, tongue. What now were you supposed to answer him? Honestly if you attempted words right now they would only be a stutter. 

Vil had just been admiring your face, the confusion in your eyes and blush on your cheeks. It was like he could hear you screaming internally. He hoped to soon have you screaming out loud for him, but before that he needed you at least share what you thought, "Did you enjoy that?"

"Y-yes!" You pipped up quickly nodding extensively until his hand rested on your cheek to still your head. 

"Good. Would you like me to do it again?"

"Like now?" You do not know why those were the next words out of your mouth instead of screaming yes. You wanted to smack your head on something. His expression flattened at your question, so dense. "Ahaha.. that was a stupid question..." You continued awkwardly, "Yes. Please kiss me again."

Rather than answer Vil just pushed his lips to yours once again. It still felt surreal, but each time he pulled away for a quick breath before returning the contact made you a bit more relaxed. Finally you pressed back into his kisses. You weren't the most knowledgeable about this activity but he was setting a very good example. Soon he had lifted you onto the counter, his hands resting on your thighs with your arms wrapped around his neck. Pressed against each other as his tongue slipped between your lips and ran along your own.

You let out a small squeak as his teeth grazed your tongue. You could feel Vil's lips curving into a smirk at that. So, you tried to be bold back and gave a light nip to his bottom lip. His had squeezed your thigh and a grunt escaped his lips, which was much more of a reaction than you expected. 

After that, Vil's kisses got a lot more hungry. He wasn't afraid to use his teeth or stick his tongue in your mouth and using it every way he could. Your fingers remained around his neck, running through his hair. It was so soft and silky, as much as you wanted your fingers tangled in it they always slid out smooth as can be. His hands slid up your thighs and gripped your hips tugging you closer. With him pressed between your legs you could feel his growing erection, especially when he started grinding his hips against you. Your breath hitched at the feeling, your grip in his hair tightened leading to Vil gasp.

"I wish I could be inside you right now." He grunted, long elegant fingers fiddled with the edge of your clothing. "But this isn't the best time or place. I still have a party going on after all." You had forgotten about that, even as he was talking you just wanted to keep kissing him. He gave you a few more before smacking his hips against yours.

"A-ah! Vil~"

He smirked at your little cry, "I can't carry on like this though, it's very distracting and quite uncomfortable."

"I'll help, I can help..." Your lust-hazed eyes drifted down to the bulge in his peacock colored pants, staring until his hand gripped your chin turning it up to look back at him. His thumb grazed over your bottom lip. Your eyes meet his letting him know exactly what you were wanting to do as you took his thumb into your mouth sucking softly. "Good answer, darling. Now get on your knees."  

You both moved quickly. You slid off the counter and set yourself up on your knees before him. Vil dropped his pants and pulled out his cock. He moaned softly stroking it a few times, leaving you practically drooling at the sight.  "Tap my leg, twice if you need to stop. Try not to make a mess." His free hand gripped the counter for stability as he lead his cock to your mouth. 

You didn't even think to tease him, just instantly wanting to taste him you engulfed the head in your mouth. Sucking lightly and swirling your tongue around to get a good taste. It wasn't a good taste but not quite bad either. You eased yourself into it, taking the time before taking more in. You were sure to breath through your nose, sucking quickly. Vil's breathing quickly grew ragged, his hips moving ever so slightly just to keep up friction. 

The occasional noises that escaped him were music to your ears, and spurred you on to delve deeper, to please him more. You made sure to pay attention to your actions along with his reaction. "Use your hands too." His hand left the counter and took your hand leading it to the base of his cock where your mouth wouldn't be reaching. "Mmm, there. Very good." His hand rested back now on your head. You began to move your hand, twisting it around the shaft and squeezing. Your head continuing to bob up and down on his dick. It was an almost hypnotizing action with how rhymic the motions were and Vil's sweet moans. You let out a moan yourself starting to enjoy the taste and feel and just the thought of you pleasing him. Wondering what his cum would taste like.

Either you were getting better or he was getting closer as his noises seemed to be getting louder. More moans between his gasps, his hand dragging into your hair. You let out another moan at his touch. 

"You're doing well, hah~ You better swallow it all." His head rolled back along his shoulders, "No mess remember." His grip tightened in your hair. You groaned against his cock as the easiest form of agreement and the sensation of him tugging your hair. Your moans became more frequent as your movements increased. You wanted to make him happy, you wanted to know you pleased him and you wanted his cum down your throat. 

You could feel his dick start to pulse just before he let out a loud scream as he unloaded into you. There wasn't much room to move with his grip on your hair and did your best to keep swallowing down his cum until his grip slacked and he pulled himself out of you. 

"I heard a scream." "I think it came from this way."  "Let's go check it out!" 

You heard some voices in the distance, then footsteps. Were others coming? They couldn't see you like this, or Vil. What would people think? But what could you do? You were still recovering trying to catch your breath. Thankfully Vil was a bit more oriented. He tugged up his pants and grabbed you by the arm and pulled you beneath the floor boards into a secret passage. He closed the trap door just before the other entered, gazing at an empty room.

Now that you were safe, Vil properly adjusted himself, making sure his look was at its usual state of perfection. "Are you alright?" He asked, wrapping an arm around you so your could lean on him. "You did wonderfully. Didn't spill at all either." 

You smiled, "Really? I'm glad... I didn't get a good taste of your cum though" 

"Maybe next time." His lips pressed against your forehead. Your heart fluttered at the idea of being able to do something like this with Vil again. 

Vil fluffed his peacock jacket and straightened the pin on his scarf. "Now I believe there is still a murder that needs investigating."

[hauntedestheart]

Creek Falls Halloween: Part 7

It was 10:30 pm October 31st and there was a party at the Trask House.

Halloween was something of a week long event in Creek Falls. While more mature adults would opine wistfully about the joys of the annual Christmas Parade of Lights or the hotly anticipated Easter Festival, all the youngsters knew that Halloween was where it was at and they made it known with seven days of some of the wildest parties in the midwest. 

Invariably the week would reach a crescendo on Halloween night. Every year some poor college kid would talk their parents into letting them have a party that got out of control and resulted in property damage and a visit from the police, and this year? It seemed like the Trask House was the lucky winner of that sweepstakes.

For the first time in decades all of the lights were on. The house was teeming with life, packed to the brim with people who had come from miles and miles around to partake in what would surely be the party of the century. There were no decorations but the naturally spooky air of the house made for the perfect Halloween backdrop, and thanks to small town etiquette pretty much everyone had brought with them some kind of food or drink so treats and alcohol were flowing freely throughout the night. Barney Prescott (an aspiring local DJ) had driven out with some of his equipment and he was pumping out tunes that kept the party jumping and would have surely had the neighbors calling the police, if the house had had any. 

No one questioned how the house still had power, or where the cobwebs and dust had gone, or why the chain link fence around the building had been turned into mangled mess of metal that lay discarded on the road outside. They were too busy having fun to notice the way that the shadows in the house seemed to dance on their own to something other to the music. Writhing bodies donning strange apparel, flashing lights pulsing in the muggy air, screaming hordes and pounding bass... it was a hell of a shindig, to put it lightly. The people inside probably wouldn’t notice if the world ended around them...

Jacob Mendes was the king of the party, commanding the attention of everyone in the room while dressed in a sexy devil costume. A pair of cheap plastic horns sat on his head and he wore a cape with no shirt, a pentagram lazily scrawled across his bare chest in red paint that highlighted the curves and contours of his sculpted torso. The red latex pants he wore left very little to the imagination, and his ass popped out so far that it could be seen even through the thin cape that was loosely tied around his neck. A generous word for his costume would be “minimalist,” but hey, no one was complaining about the view. 

None of the partygoers suspected that Jacob’s adonis-like body itself was the real costume, his handsome face disguising the twisted soul of one Pablo Trask who was having a wonderful time playing dress up. The real Jacob had been planning on dressing up as Captain America for Halloween, but Trask had felt that that hadn’t really fit the vibe he was going for this night. He was feeling devilish, and he was planning on raising hell tonight (literally).

This was the first party he’d attended since he was a literal child, and he was having a fantastic time. He wasn’t crazy about the music (call him old fashioned but he preferred stuff with lyrics and a melody) but he had to admit that the dirty beats served to heighten the atmosphere and bring a certain sense of fun to the proceedings. And apparently they’d invented new drugs at some point? He’d declined, having enough presence of mind to understand that he should be clear headed for the night to come, but that didn’t stop him from chugging a copious amount of alcohol that sloshed around his guts happily as he swaggered through the party with an ease that he’d never had in life. 

This was a far cry from the kind of parties that had taken place back in his day, everyone here was so free and uninhibited, and his new body empowered him to enjoy it in a whole new way. Now that he was tall and strong he had no reason to feel uncomfortable in a crowd because the crowd moved to suit him rather than the other way around. When he caught someone staring at him it wasn’t because they were judging him, it was because they wanted him. 

Dressed in as little as possible Trask felt sexy and powerful, and while he delighted in showing off Jacob’s unreal abs and flexing his huge arms for anyone who would watch, his favorite part was getting to share these gifts with others. In this new era people were freer in all ways, including sexually, and it turned out that on a night like Halloween a beautiful stud like Jacob could do anything he wanted with anyone. Forget trick or treating, someone had handed Trask the keys to the whole damn candy store and he was gorging himself on anything he could get his mouth on. 

The party had been raging for a few hours now and Trask had already sucked and fucked his way through half of the male attendees. Jacob’s body had impressive stamina and only the straightest of men would be able to resist the offer of a hookup with such a gorgeous specimen, but Trask applied a little bit of black magic to ensure that he didn’t run dry on both fronts. He had to make up for fifty years of sexual frustration after all, and the party had turned into a crash course in homosexual relations as he tried out positions and sex acts from his darkest fantasies. 

Getting his juicy ass plowed by the thick fellow dressed as a firefighter, shoving his big dick down the throat of the svelte man dressed as a ninja, the threesome with the two guys dressed as the Mario brothers, Trask was beginning to lose count of the number of encounters he’d had but he hadn’t stopped enjoying them yet. The young men would surely be disgusted if they knew that it was actually a lecherous old man’s hands upon them, but if anything that secret knowledge just made his actions all the sweeter.

He was so lost in ecstasy (literally, since he’d given up on the whole “no drugs” thing after a twink in a flower crown and toga had talked him into taking something that would make him “feel good” before he’d railed him in the coat closet) that he almost forgot his mission for the night until he was grinding on a boy whose costume was some kind of bathrobe and a wig (a reference that Trask didn’t get and didn’t particularly need to when the boy’s ass felt that good against his dick) and he felt something in the air shift. Whispers in his ear sobered him up instantly, and the smile slid from his face.

“Party crashers,” He spat under his breath. With a mighty huff of exasperation he placed one sloppy, possessive kiss onto his partner’s face for the road, and then flipped his cape dramatically as he stalked off. Party time was over.

——————

The spell to break them out of the house had been relatively simple actually, all Wally had done was create another simple salt circle inside of the house (representative of the circle Trask had created with his powers) and then broke it; it honestly unnerved him how simple it was for him to figure out and execute the spell. Perhaps Trask had been sloppy because he was in a rush or Wally had been emboldened by the encouragement of his friends, but the boy was sure that he himself could have thought up something better.

The spell to get the ghost out of Jacob’s body wasn’t as straightforwards because it turned out it wasn’t a spell, it was a potion, which meant ingredients and brewing and they didn’t really have time for that. All of the stores were closed because it was so late at night and they couldn’t gather the ingredients anyways, so reluctantly (and a little gratefully) they’d all gone to bed. After that it was a mad dash to get everything, and a few hours later they had a pot of what Danny had lovingly termed “exorcism juice.” 

Their bounty was split between five jars, one for each of them, and they each donned their railroad spike necklaces and bags of salt as well. Aubrey insisted on wearing his Ghostbusters uniform as well and nobody made fun of him for it this time, because now there was no denying that they were well and truly going to be doing some ghost busting.

So they were probably feeling as confident as they had any right to be when they stumbled into Trask’s party on Halloween night. They were a bit nervous about cutting it so close to the midnight deadline, but they a plan, and few things were as reassuring to the Gangy as a plan was. Pouring the exorcism juice over Jacob’s body would expel the ghost and prevent it from reentering into him, so all they had to do was splash some on him and Trask would be powerless. Their railroad spike necklaces would protect them, and everyone also had a bag of salt on their person they could use to contain the ghost while it was still weakened. Then it was just a matter of keeping him there until midnight, when he would finally be gone for good.

It was a flimsy plan and a million things could go wrong with it, and in fact one did the moment they entered the party: Trask was nowhere to be found. Needles in haystacks shuddered at the thought of having to find someone in a packed costume party, and the Gangy were struck with further hopelessness as they gazed at the masses that filled the mansion.

“Alright, there’s too many people here,” Danny decided, quickly speaking up before the daunting task could overwhelm them. “I say we split up to increase our odds of finding him.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Casey asked apprehensively.

“Good idea,” Aubrey said at the same time.

“Wally and Casey, you two go that way–“ Danny pointed to the left. “And Tammie and I will take Aubrey and go this way.” He pointed to the right. “If you find him, don’t engage with him! Just call the others and tell them where you are. Even though we’re splitting up we’re all still in this together, okay?”

Casey opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then he thought better of it and shut it. Shaking his head, he patted Aubrey on the shoulder and then nodded his head at Wally; Wally seemed to have some words on his lips as well, but instead he just gave his friends a strangely sorrowful look before parting from them with Casey in tow. Aubrey waved a weak goodbye and kept his eyes trained on them as long as he could before he felt Tammie’s hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure they’re gonna be okay?” Aubrey asked nervously. His knees shaking and he leaned into Tammie’s support as he watched his friends disappear into the crowd. Danny nodded at him.

“They’ll be fine,” He said reassuringly, already directing his attention to the far side of the room as his eyes roamed the crowd for their target. “Those two are tough and they’ll watch each others’ backs, if anything it’s Trask I’m worried about if they find him first.”

“Yeah, okay...” Aubrey still didn’t sound sure, and worry was still written plainly across his face. He stared after the two departing boys for a moment, then spoke again. “Are we gonna be okay?”

“Of course we are!” Danny said with a scoff, completely cutting off Tammie from whatever she was about to say. “When have I ever let anything bad happen to any of you?”

Aubrey’s brow furrowed. “Um–”

“Anything you say will just encourage him,” Tammie said sharply, and with a roll of her eyes she snatched Aubrey by the hand and dragged the still confused boy away. Danny shook his head and jogged after them.

“Hey Wally, are you doing okay?” Wally and Casey were fumbling their way through the crowds of drunken partygoers, dodging elbows as they searched for Trask. Someone offered Casey a beer and he shook his head. Not tonight. While he was no stranger to a party, too much was at stake tonight for him to be anything other than clear headed.

“I’m fine,” Wally said, but he sounded too high strung for it to ring true. “Why do you ask?” He asked in what seemed to be an attempt at nonchalance, which Casey was absolutely not buying.

Casey and Wally made for something of an odd pairing, they seldom hung out solo so without the buffer of their other friends to keep things flowing they searched in relative silence. Neither could quite figure out where he stood with the other, so while they considered each other friends they never developed the same rapport they had with the others. Still, Casey was far more observant than most people gave him credit for and even in the brief time they’d spent alone together he’d noticed the tension that was radiating from Wally, and he knew he had to say something about it.

“It just seems like this whole ‘magic’ thing is really getting to you,” Casey said, doing air quotes around the word “magic” as if it were theoretical rather than something that had turned their lives upside down over the past week. “I don’t wanna sound rude but it can’t be that serious, right?”

“This stuff ruined Pablo Trask’s life,” Wally said brusquely. Even as he said this he was cradling the spell book to his chest self-consciously, and he clutched it even tighter when he noticed Casey’s eyes on it. He angled his body away from his friend, forcing Casey to speak to his back.

“No, Pablo Trask’s life was ruined because he was a gay foreigner growing up before the internet,” Casey said plainly. Wally picked up his tempo and began weaving through the crowd with surprising grace, and Casey had to speed up to keep pace with him. “I’m pretty sure the magic thing was just a really fucked up coping mechanism. As long as you’re careful with it you’ll be fine, right?”

Wally didn’t respond and just kept powering ahead through the party, his lips pursed and his eyes searching the crowds blankly. This was very much not his usual scene and he felt very small in the face of the throngs of people, shy and claustrophobic. When an intoxicated girl with pupils too wide for her to be just drunk tripped and fell on top of him, he just didn’t know what to do. She was dressed up as a sexy nurse (were Wally calmer he would have rolled his eyes at the lack of originality) and she leaned on his shoulder, muttering something incomprehensible with a strung out smile on her face. Wally froze awkwardly, keeping a death grip onto the book, until Casey appeared behind him and shoved the girl off of him and onto some other unsuspecting rube in the crowd.

“You okay man?” Casey asked his friend, placing his hands on his shoulders protectively. The boy took a deep, shuddering breath, and tried his best to forget the crowds around him. He closed his eyes, focusing on just the feeling of his friend’s grip, and nodded weakly. When he opened his eyes Casey was staring down at him with a strange expression on his face. He spoke. “Okay I’m tired of running around it so I’m just gonna say it: you’re absolutely nothing like Pablo Trask and you don’t have to worry about being like him.”

Wally stopped cold as the words cut straight to his core. The throngs of people were forgotten for a moment, and when he snapped back to reality he felt the urge to get as far away from Casey as possible.

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” He said evasively before storming off into the safety of the crowd once more, social awkwardness be damned.

Casey huffed and followed his friend, not wanting to get separated in the madness of the party. His eyes searched the crowd, both for Trask and for an excuse to change the subject, and he ended up finding the latter.

“Wait, isn’t that Skylar Pinkerton?” Casey pointed off to the other side of the room they were in towards a young man dressed up in some kind of corny gladiator outfit sipping something from a red solo cup. Wally squinted through is glasses and confirmed that it was, indeed, their classmate.

“The guy who picks on Aubrey all the time?” Wally asked, raising his eyebrows and glaring a dagger across the room towards the boy. “Why are there high schoolers at this party?”

“I mean, we’re here,” Casey pointed out, and Wally suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at him.

“We’re here to stop a ghost from destroying the town,” Wally responded flatly, giving his friend a look before he rolled his neck and he returned his ire to Skylar. “Unless he’s moonlighting as a ghost hunter I doubt his intentions are as noble.”

“He’s here to get turnt, that’s as noble a reason as any.” Casey said, only half-sarcastically.

“He’s been held back two grades, he can probably legally drink at this point. The last thing he needs is to be out partying,” Wally’s voice had a biting edge to it as he glared at their classmate living it up. “Of course he’s out here having the time of his life while we’re busting our assess trying to do something good.”

“Yeah…” An idea popped into Casey’s head, and a sly grin crossed his face. “Hey, just real quickly, are there any curses in that book of yours? You wanna throw one on him real fast?”

“What?!” Wally blurted out, visibly stumbling. He spun to stare at Casey with a look of utter incredulity on his face. “After we just had a conversation about how serious magic is?”

“I’m just saying,” Casey held his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “It might be healthy for you to desensitize yourself to the negative associations you’ve assigned to magic. You know, confront your fears and demonstrate to yourself that you’re bigger than them.

“That’s...” Wally paused as his brain processed what Casey had said. “weirdly astute of you to say.”

“Yeah, I talk to school counselor a lot,” Casey said dismissively, catching Wally’s eyes and silently begging him not to ask why. Wally seemed to take the hint but he didn’t offer anything else, so Casey pressed onwards. “Anyways if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Aubrey. Skylar is a total jackass to him but look at the dude,” Casey gestured towards Skylar, who was currently crushing a beer can against his forehead. “If I said anything to about it he could beat the shit out of me too. Your voodoo mojo could fix that, even the playing field a bit.

“But– you don’t even like Aubrey?” Wally said accusingly, sputtering as he tried to deflect again. “If anything you’re just as mean to him as Skylar.”

“What?” Casey exclaimed, somewhat taken aback by the accusation. He crossed his arms and glared at Wally. “I am not! I just don’t baby Aubrey like the rest of you. I think he’s tougher than you guys give him credit for.”

“Aubrey?” Wally shook his head incredulously. “Aubrey is the human equivalent of a photo of a bunny eating a strawberry.”

“True,” Casey conceded. “But also that’s why we have to keep it real with him. If we let him get too slow he’ll fall behind the rest of us and then what’ll happen to him?” He shook his head and stared off into the middle distance as he thought of his friend, unconsciously smiling a little bit. “He drives me up the wall but every time I feel like I’m about to finally snap and knock his lights out he looks up at me with those big eyes of his and it’s just like… I wanna protect him, you know what I mean?”

“But don’t you feel that way about everybody?” Wally asked curiously. Casey started out of his thoughts and glanced over at Wally, and tilting his head.

“No,” Casey said, and he gave his friend a quizzical look. Wally suddenly felt very small. “Do you?”

There was a beat in the conversation and two boys stared at each other, both of their faces flushed at least two shades darker. Each of them felt as if he’d revealed a card he was supposed to keep in his hands, and now there was no choice but to keep playing. The party thumped and rumbled around them, raucous, uncaring, and a thousand miles away.

“Alright so Skylar,” Wally blurted out. He gripped the book in one hand and began thumbing through the pages with the other. “What do you want me to do to him?”

“You pick,” Casey silently breathed a sigh of relief, glad for any kind of distraction. He flashed his teeth at Wally with a wicked look in his eyes as he glared across the room at Skylar. “Just don’t mess him up too badly.”

The book shook slightly in Wally’s hand as the pages began flipping by themselves, turned by a wind that wasn’t there until they settled on a page in the middle of the volume; it seemed the book had picked for them. In the faded party lighting Wally could barely make out the words, but when he blinked and looked again it was as if the words were glowing into his eyes. Casey craned his neck to see as well, only to quickly give up once he realized that the text was still in an unfamiliar language. Only the title of the page was in English.

“Idle Hands?” Casey read aloud, his voice instantly lost to the roar of the crowd. He looked over at his friend for some kind of explanation.

“The devil’s playthings...” Wally muttered to himself. He found he could read the words as clearly as if they were in English, their power transcending language and sinking straight into his mind where they popped and fizzed like bubbles in soda. He flicked his eyes towards Casey, who was eyeing him somewhat strangely. “Sorry that was probably really creepy, it’s just an old saying.”

The spell was another simple one that required no ingredients, only the right words and a strong will. Probably why the book had selected it for him, Wally thought to himself, and he would be a fool not to take the advice.

As he read the instructions Wally gestured for Casey to take a step back and Casey took the opportunity to position himself between Wally and the crowd, shielding him from the rabble somewhat, and then he turned around politely to give Wally some semblance of privacy. Wally stood in the small bubble of space and closed his eyes, pushing the party from his mind as he reached for that place deep inside of himself he’d learned to tap into over the past few days.

He was muttering the incantation under his breath, but he knew that that was only half of the ritual. From what he could tell the rest of the spell required him to have sufficient want for it to work, and he didn’t have to look far for it. Just like Casey had said, the thought of poor Aubrey being wailed on was enough to fill him with rage that he was all too eager to unleash onto Skylar, but as he dug deeper he realized his want went deeper than just anger and lust for revenge.

Wally cared deeply for the people around him; he came across as cold and clinical at times but that was because he worried that if he let out everything that was inside of him it would be too much and it would scare them away. But hearing Casey speak that way about Aubrey, seeing the obvious concern he held for his friend, it almost relieved Wally. Emboldened him. Wally was the type of guy who would do anything for his friends, and as he felt the magic flow through him he realized that now he could. 

His eyes were closed but he felt like he could see more clearly than ever and he fixed his mind’s eye on Skylar, feeling tingles throughout his body as he pushed the magic he’d been shaping onto the unsuspecting young man. He watched Skylar shiver for a moment then opened his real eyes, snapping back into reality to the sight of Casey silhouetted in the party lights.

“So what did you do?” Casey stared over at Skylar, who was still partying it up blithely. “Is he gonna start turning into a frog or something in a second?”

Wally shushed his friend and trained his eyes on Skylar. Sure enough he could feel the chords of magic running between the two of them; the spell had worked. He bit his lip in concentration then he jerked his hands to the left, and across the room Skylar’s hands followed the motion. Skylar looked down at them with confusion for a moment, then shrugged and took another swig from his drink. Wally raised his left hand and waved it in the air, and Skylar mimicked him. Casey glanced between the two of them, and his eyes widened in recognition.

“Holy shit,” He laughed in surprise as he watched a confused Skylar vainly attempt to lower his arm. “Are you doing that?”

“Yup,” Wally said, glancing over at his friend and savoring the look of awe that was on his face. Turning his attention back to Skylar, he lifted the boy’s hand and forced him to pour his drink over the top of his head. Skylar shouted in confusion and attempted to wipe away the beer that was streaming down his face only to find his left hand shoving itself into his nostril.

He almost cried out again but one of his hands slapped across his mouth, smothering his screams. His eyes darted around frantically as he watched one of his hands reach up and wag his finger at him, as if to say “naughty boy.” Then it balled itself up into a fist and swung down at his crotch, landing a hearty blow to his balls that sent him crumpling onto the floor in pain. The party goers around him gave him strange looks, but across the room Casey was cackling.

“What do you think I should do with him?” Wally asked, his own hands hanging strangely in the air. Casey’s eyes glinted as he leaned in and whispered something into Wally’s ear, and Wally smiled approvingly.

Skylar stood back up on wobbly legs, freaking out as he tried and failed to regain control over his own hands. The lacrosse player was at the mercy of his now alien appendages, and he watched with horror as one of them reached behind his back and he suddenly felt something warm and fleshy beneath his hands. He didn’t want to, but he knew he had to turn around, and when he did he was forced to confront the fact that his hand was currently connected to the ass of a very big, very burly man dressed up as a character from Game of Thrones. Skylar winced as he felt his hand squeeze the man’s buttocks and give it a cheeky little pinch.

“Can I help you with something?” The man growled, wheeling around to investigate who the hell was currently sexually assaulting him. Skylar was a big guy, but this guy was older, towered over him, and was covered in all manner of tattoos that suggested he was not someone to be screwed with. As if in response, Skylar found he could control his hand again and he hastily removed it from the man’s posterior. He made a show of brushing it off on his pants, frantically trying to think of what to say to avoid facing a beating.

Skylar’s traitorous hand shot out and grabbed the man in the crotch.

“What the fuck you little shithead!” The man bellowed. He reached down to try and extract the hand from his crotch but Wally’s grip was resolute, and thus so was Skylar’s. Skylar struggled with the hand over his mouth to no avail, screaming for his hand to stop as he felt it toy with the bigger man’s privates. The man sputtered with shock, which was quickly replaced by white hot anger. 

The two stood there for a few moments in silence, each waiting for the other to do something. Embarrassingly it took Skylar a few moments to realize that his hands were his own again, and he snatched it away and held it in the air defensively as if that would somehow undo the damage he had just done.

“Listen, buddy...” Skylar stammered out weakly, but before he could say anything of substance he was already being shoved in the direction of the door.

“Feeling better?” Casey asked Wally. The two watched with glee as Skylar was steered through the party by the bigger man, who manhandled him en route to a presumable beating. Wally snapped with both hands and severed the connection between the two of them, and his hands shook thanks to something other than the magic.

“A little,” Wally admitted. He looked down at his hands and flexed them nervously, then let out a deep breath. He could handle this. He looked over at Casey again and gave him a small smile, which made Casey visibly relax. “We should keep looking though.”

Casey let him lead the way.

——

Wally and Casey were still wandering through the party looking for Trask when Casey’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Holding up one hand Casey motioned for Wally to stop, but by the time he got his phone out the line had already gone dead. A call from Tammie. He called it back and the phone rang once, twice, three times, four times, and then–

“Tammie?” He asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately she can’t come to the phone right now,” Trask’s voice rang out from the phone sinister as ever. Casey’s face went pale, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “She’s a little… tied up right now, with her friends.”

“You fucking asshole!” Casey yelled into the phone, startling poor Wally who was watching with concern. “Where are they?”

“It’s a secret,” Trask said gleefully, cackling after he spoke. “Let’s see if you can find them before I’m done with them.”

The line went dead and Casey cursed, a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. Partygoers eyed him with suspicion and gave him a small berth as he kicked at the wall in frustration, only snapping back to reality when he felt Wally’s hand on his shoulder. He turned to face his friend with wide eyes.

“He’s got them,” Casey whispered, unable to speak the words any louder, but from the look in the other boy’s eyes he likely had already pieced it together. “He says he’s got them tied up somewhere in the house but he won’t say where.”

Wally nodded gravely, and he set his jaw nervously. “The basement, he probably took them to the basement.” Wally guessed. “It’s his inner sanctum and besides, there’s too many people everywhere else.”

“You mean the secret basement nobody’s found in decades even with the floor plans?” Casey asked, pacing frantically. He was unable to mask his growing panic and he kicked the wall in frustration once more, as if he could bully the house itself into revealing its secrets. “Great idea, but how do we fucking find it?”

“Shh,” Wally shushed with such sudden ferocity that Casey, surprised, snapped his mouth shut instantly. Sensing something in Wally’s eyes, Casey shifted his body to create a pocket of space between the wall and the rest of the party where his friend could do whatever he was about to do.

Wally closed his eyes and placed both hands on the black book, drawing it close to his face and whispering something to it in a strange gesture that made it look like he was praying. Casey’s eyes widened as the air sparked and hissed, shimmers of something otherworldly tracing patterns through the air around his friend. Wally heard a low rumbling in his ears, audible only to him, and an intense pressure pushed down on his head. Just as the pressure seemed to be too much he tossed the book into the air and it stayed there, flapping open and shut as if it were a bird. Casey gawked as it began flying over the crowd towards one of the hallways. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Wally shoved his friend towards where the book had flown and Casey stumbled before his feet found their way beneath him. “Follow the book, the book knows where it is!”

“Don’t worry guys, we’re coming to get you.” 

To be continued…

[insomniac-arrest]

hey! I finished Gideon the Ninth and wanted to ask if you could rec other wlw fantasy books? Also maybe a series that’s not wlw. (I trust your judgement more than the leagues of people on Good Reads)

While I have read a number of fantasy wlw books I’ll admit that I haven’t enjoyed most of them! Crier’s War, The Abyss Surrounds Us, and A Long Way to a Small Angry Planet (tho this is sci-fi) were all pretty disappointing for me.

There are a few I can recommend tho!

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon: this is a high fantasy adult novel about the rise of an ancient evil, defeated and imprisoned once a thousand years previously and then threatening to reemerge. There’s magic and dragons and a bunch of different POVs.

I will say, the story itself feels a little all over the place and too damn long, but I did really enjoy the lesbian romance in it! It was fun and interesting with a classic little set-up. I will say, the evil witch was also very sexy and a part of me was like . . . yeah, go with this bitch, she’s hot. 

Overall, I do think it’s worth the read! Especially if you’re looking for a feminist epic fantasy story with a queer love story.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power: this is a YA novel about a quarantined girl’s boarding school where the girls are going through like creepy body transformations. My favorite thing about this book was definitely the atmosphere. It was very spooky and interesting and I enjoyed the mood of the piece along with some of the twists and turns.

Contrast to the other book, I found the romance in this one interesting, but way too rushed. Like, the dynamics were at least fresh and I was invested, but the payoff happened far too quickly. Still a good read tho!

I would be remiss if I didn’t do a plug for my own book of course!

We Deserve a Soft Landing Love: Sapphic Fantasy and Science Fiction Stories by Jacquelynn Lyon: a short story collection by yours truly! It covers stories about mermaids in zoos, astronauts on doomed space missions, cursed princesses, floating islands, bog witches, and more! Check it out here. 

Others: Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik is a stand alone fantasy book based off of Jewish Eastern European folklore. It’s about a moneylender who gets whisked away by fae-like creatures after she boasts that she can turn silver into gold. I love this book a lot, it doesn’t have any wlw romances, but the female friendships within it are fantastic!

The Broken Earth Trilogy by NK Jemisin is my favorite fantasy series of all time! Absolutely captivating, enthralling, and intense. It’s a story that focuses on people who can move the earth (like earth bending but much more complex) and a time period that the people of this world call “the fifth season” which is basically a major die-off event.

I adore the way she writes and I was literally never bored when reading this. I will warn you that it is quiet dark, like Game of Thrones dark, but smart and purposeful in the way it does it. Also, there are a number of queer characters in the series!

Anyway! Those are some of my recs :D

I’ve actually run out of any major fantasy books I’m interested in reading at the moment, I keep thinking about reading Mistborn for the world building but people also keep telling me that the author is kinda sexist. I dunno, we’ll see!

[saijspellhart]

Ack I'm finally home and can try and combat the anon hate with some anon love for your story! I love how you write Yami so much. All he wants is to respect Yugi and protect him so he refuses to overstep any boundaries. And Yugi too! that last chapter got me so good. The way neither of them expects anything of the other and wants to make sure they're both comfortable it's amazing. Lots of couples struggle with this level of communication and enthusiastic consent and these two can't even talk. 1/2

Here is a doodle I did of Yami yesterday. Thank you for this lovely ask. Please enjoy him.

In response to you ask, I’m very thrilled you like my fic, Chained to You. The challenging aspect of writing Season Zero Yami as opposed to DM Yami is balancing the sweet and supportive nature we’ve seen from DM Yami with Zero Yami’s original protective and cruel nature. I always have to keep in mind that relationships involving Zero Yami could go bad really fast. Which is part of the reason this story is set 9 years after the events of Season Zero. I wanted there to be plenty of time for Yami (both Yami Y and Yami B) to grow. Plenty of time for them to learn and mature with/from their respective hosts. (That’s not to say either of them act their age. Har har har.) So, from the very start I was big focused on trust, respect, and boundaries.

As far as consent goes, that gets pretty dubious when two people share a single body. Yugi doesn’t exactly get to consent whenever Yami takes his body for a ride. Which means there needs to be more consent when they actually start to develop a friendship and a relationship. I figured that would be something very important between them as they get to know each other. I wanted to write something with horror feels, but not a twisted horror-romance. Consent is sexy. (Nothing against fictional horror-romances, it’s a legit genre in the horror community, but not my cup of tea to write.)

With Yami’s appearance, I realize he only ever appeared like an eldritch shadow monster in Season Zero, and never in the manga or DM anime. But dammit if I didn’t fall in love with Toei’s interpretation of him. It was GOLD. (No pun intended) It ticks all my horror loving boxes. I loooooove shadow Yami. I get so passionate about him. So when it comes to describing Yami doing spooky shit, or his appearance, the writer in me goes into overdrive. I want to describe this shadowed spirit as something truly terrifying, but as terrifying as he is and can be, deep down there’s still the sweet dorky Atem we know and love from the DM anime.

As for Yugi, I just like the idea of him being sassy. I like Yugi with some attitude. I tried to keep his soft and timid personality from Season Zero relatively intact, just evolve it as he grew up. He’s more mature, he’s grown more of a backbone, he’s gotten more cheeky. But I HOPE those aspects don’t overshadow his original personality. That’s my intent anyway. I tried to imagine the effect friends like Jonouchi, Anzu, Ryou, Kaiba, and Honda would have on him.

It is my utter shame that I haven’t watched really any YuGiOh. I’m a SHAM! A sham! I’ve gotten ten episodes into DM just recently. And that’s about as far as I could stomach. The writing for the English voice acting is... rough. Really rough. And I know how to play the card game, so it bothers me to no end that they play the game all wrong in the show. And on top of that the show is 90% card games. I can’t even escape it like I can with Season Zero. I watched Season Zero just fine because the card games are at a minimum in that show, and very inconsequential. They only really show up involving Kaiba. I also read the first seven mangas and own them. Love them. 10/10, please read the manga if you haven’t. It’s amazing. The Shadow Games Yami plays are incredible, and the characters get so much more love and attention. It’s truly more about Yugi and his friendships and I love that.

I know this was a long reply. I hope you don’t mind.

[amurder-ofcrows]

Heyy can you tell us more about the books you read this January? Like which ones you liked, or if you found something that made you emotional, or you started to know a new author, or whatever you want! I'm always curious about what other people read

Hi!!! i’m always happy to talk about books!

The first book I read was The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, funny enough i picked it up at the bookstore and didn’t realize it’s actually the second book in the vampire chronicles (they didn’t have the first, Interview With The Vampire…) but I read it anyway and it didn’t spoil anything for the first book, which I ordered online and will read soon. I gave the book a 4 star rating, mostly because i’m A Slut for gay vampires and the 18th and 19th centuries

Then i read In The Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. Definitely a big trigger warning for domestic abuse, gaslighting, physical abuse, that’s the main focus of the book. It’s actually about a wlw relationship and explores the nuances of abuse in queer relationships. It’s a set of short chapters that all connect to the bigger story and all of them are set as “the dream house as ___” and the blank is always a horror movie trope or movie itself. Definitely a good read, but it is intense and I wouldn’t go into it lightly. I gave it 4 stars.

The next book I read was the only 5 star I gave this month, and that was Electric Idol by Katee Robert. this is a sequel to the book Neon Gods, which is an erotic retelling of Hades and Persephone. Electric Idol follows Eros and Psyche and is also an erotica. I won’t go into the story too much because it is a sequel and I would have to spoil the events of the first book to tell you about this one. But it’s sexy, there’s a fake marriage, sister dynamics, and an assassination plot. The first book is much more kinky than this one, the sex scenes in this one are more … vanilla? i guess, it’s still really hot but it’s not as intense as the first book. There’s a third book coming out later this year, Wicked Beauty, which follows Achilles, Patroclus, and Helen so i’m really excited.

Then I read 3 books by the same author: Grady Hendrix. I first read The Final Girl Support Group, which is about a group of “final girls” (the last survivor in a horror movie) and they’re all getting attacked/killed off one by one. even tho it’s a horror book, i didn’t find it too horrific and i would put it more in the thriller category. i definitely didn’t see the twist at the end, this book makes you think you know what’s going on and then doubt yourself like three times until you finally get a reveal. I gave it a 3 star.

The next Grady Hendrix book I read was The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires. This one is definitely more horror than the last one. It follows a ladies book club in the 90s that reads only true crime and horror novels as they begin to realize that a neighbor might be responsible for killing children in a neighboring part of town, and that this neighbor might be a vampire. I liked this one a lot, and you will HATE the women’s husbands when you get to the halfway point and after. like it’s not technically gaslighting, but it’s definitely abusive and manipulative. There’s also a very good discussion about class, race, and gender roles, especially the idea of what the perfect housewife should be. Tw for attempted suicide, gore, and emotional manipulation. 4 stars.

The final Grady Hendrix book I read was My Best Friend’s Exorcism. This is 80s camp mixed with a demonic possession. Tbh i don’t have to explain much because the title really says it all. Not my favorite but not bad, and definitely has some spooky scenes. 3 stars. I plan on reading Grady Hendrix’s book Hörrorstör which is a horror book set in IKEA which just sounds so fun.

Moving on from Grady Hendrix, I read To The Bone by Christina Henry. It was pitched to me as Hozier’s song In The Woods Somewhere as a book, and honestly? yeah pretty much. It’s got the monster in the woods who you can hear screaming and coming across dead animals and caves with bones in them and trying to escape. it does have a LOT of body horror and an abusive pedophilic relationship and a murder committed by a human against another human, so if that’s a trigger, i wouldn’t read this book because it’s very in depth in its descriptions. very tense and gore-y, gives a sense of dread to the reader. 3 stars.

Then I read my least favorite book of the month: NOS4A2. I was hoping for more vampires in this book, but alas it was not meant to be. It’s actually about a serial killer who can access a different reality to put his victims in, and a girl who can access this reality by crossing a specific bridge. The title comes from the fact that the car the killer uses has that as a license plate. It’s almost 700 pages and i didn’t not like it. there were some good scenes, so it wasn’t a one star, but it still only barely made a 2.

Finally, I read Tender Is The Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica. This is a translated work, originally written in Spanish. This is not a book to be taken lightly. It’s set in a world where all animal meat has a disease that makes it poisonous to humans, so people have started eating and breeding humans. The descriptions in this book are gruesome. it doesn’t hold back on the body horror and does so in an almost clinical way. There’s also talk of miscarriages and death of an infant that does matter to the plot. Absolutely horrific and the final scene is just *shudders*. 3 stars.

The book I’m working on now is A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay. It’s a book about a possession that asks the question what is schizophrenia and what is a possession and how do you tell the difference. I’m about 70 pages in and I’m hoping to finish it tonight. I’ll update this post with my star ranking if I do, but if i don’t, i’ll add it to my wrap up for February.

If you want to see more of my bookish opinions, i have a bookstagram @/ryanandhisbooks and a booktok @/wastelandryan!

[serahsanguine]

Fan Fic Master list

this was asked by the lovely @bevh78 also I'm adding a read here because this post is gonna be a long one 

Tagging; @peacenik0 @skullsmuldonn @today-in-fic

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Completely AU and are WIP

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School Sex and Subterfuge  Ao3

Summary; Mulder is a teacher, Scully is a student. This story is an NC-17 rating. There is no underage sex in my story I researched this before even writing it. Mulder is known to give extra credit of a sexual kind to Someone special in his class does this person turn out to be Scully? I will let you read and find out.

What’s left unsaid. says it all   Ao3 

Summary;  This is a Multi-Chapter story, based of a tweet that I wrote. What if Mulder and Scully Had Sex before Scully’s abduction, and from this said act she fell pregnant. Which turned the events of The X-Files into a more different/angst storyline for both Mulder and Scully.

Vacation series; 

Part 1 Let The Games Commence. Ao3

Summary;  Prompt; Mulder and Scully play Charades or Cards Against Humanity at some sort of party, maybe with the Scully family or the Lone Gunmen

Part 2 Halloween Surprises.  Ao3 

Summary; The Second Instalment for the Vacation Series. Filled With spooky storeys, vanity fairs and everything in between. To Fill the Prompt Boo

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Porn battle so basically Smut Smut and more shameless Smut 

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Good Vibrations 

prompt 4, Scully wears a portable vibe and gives Mulder the control 11, Wearable vibrator, public dinner date/family dinner

Candy is dandy. But liquor is quicker.

prompt 19; AU Young and very sexy Mulder and Scully meet in a club. After a few drinks and some dancing, they have a quickie in the club bathroom.

Life is always a little more fun when you’re a little more naughty.

Prompt; 51, Making out, heavy petting, Scully grinding on Mulder's lap while telling him about the girl she used to sleep with and the sexy things they would do together

Hidden Dreams And Secret Desires.

Prompt; 5, Scully dry humping a pillow while Mulder watches.

Kitchen Shenanigans.  

Prompt 27, Scully comes home from work IWTB era; kitchen counter passionate sex; vocal Scully.

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Smut (Everything and Anything)

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Blind Date

This is an AU in which Melissa is still alive. In this universe, Melissa and Maggie Scully are scheming to get Mulder and Scully together.

New York; Fireworks And Snowflakes. 

A Map of Us: 50 States of Sex MSR Challenge! I chose New York, Mulder takes Scully away to New York from Christmas till the new year. This story is based after season 9 but before IWTB but generally can be placed anywhere between seasons 9 and 10

Lust, Anger, And Greed

Prompt; surprise me! I would love something flirty with so much UST you can hardly breathe culminating. (RST)

Frustration and Revelation (WIP)

Scully is annoyed and highly sexually frustrated. Does Mulder know what he is in for?

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Post episode (can include smut fluff etc)

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Desire with a Twist

This one-shot is set just after ‘Rm9sbg93zxjz’ (I had ideas from the episodes ‘This, Plus one, Rm9). This story is based on something i wanted to do for a while i hope you enjoy it.

A Christmas Carol Remastered

prompt; How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, they exchange gifts and it's what everyone expected the gifts to be, porn and a vibrator. They decide to watch the movie and he tries out the vibrator on her and one thing leads to another

Christmas On The Run.

prompt; M&S Xmas after her abduction OR M&S first Xmas together on the run (sharing memories of their childhood, maybe?) I'd love to see some Hanukkah included somehow.

Star Crossed Ghosts (Au)

To the beautiful Kandi for everything you have done for me over the past year,

Prompt; open to anything I do enjoy occasional stuck in a single hotel room romp. The first time, romance, smut, angst UST to RST.

Well my dear Kandi there in a hotel room, it's their first time it has romance, smut, angst and definitely got UST to RST sorry I had to include a case file but it short Hehe ^-^ also you choose it to be after small potatoes I hope I did it justice

Repercussion

Post-Episode: s01e02 Deep Throat

prompt: Mulder dealing with the aftermath of his kidnapping. Physical symptoms? How did it affect his and Scully’s relationship?

----------------------------------

Fluff completely and utterly fluff 

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Chickenpox, Kittens And Family.

Prompt; Family time fluff. love to see them with either Will, or their little girl or both up to you.

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None Msr 

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The Text That Changed Everything (Gillovny)

The text that changed everything. Did the news article tell the truth?

[goosebytrade]

Moomins Movie Night

Around a month ago, @thegoldensoundstwice and I were joking around about a Moomins Movie Night AU and she asked me to share what we came up with. This is set when they are in their late teens/early twenties. Moomintroll and Snufkin are dating, Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden are amicable friends who get along so much better now they’ve broken up, and the one thing all five of the kids have in common is that they have found family at Moominhouse.

Once a week, the five main kids who stay at/near Moominhouse (Moomintroll, Snufkin, Little My, Snorkmaiden, and Sniff) get together and watch a movie. This is a bit of An Event for them, and it comes with its own rituals and expectations. The Moominparents aren’t really invited (though Mamma will pop in with snacks) and the kids take turns picking the movies.

There is a lot of banter during these films (to Moomintroll’s dismay) and overall the event is pretty chill. Even when a member of the group doesn’t like the movie they still tend to have fun, either because they mock the film throughout or engage in some healthy debate. They’ve ended up with a lot of inside jokes based on Movie Night Incidents.

Little My is no longer allowed to pick the movie. She tended to make her choices based on shock value rather than actual appeal, and everyone unanimously agrees there have been too many incidents for her to have a fiftieth chance any time soon. Little My can get quite loud during movie nights. She cackles whenever a character gets hurt or experiences distress. She gags during cishet romances and rolls her eyes during queer ones (Snufkin once politely told her he considered it rude for people to gag during most queer romances and she tries to accommodate that for him). She gets really into things and is known to punch the air and wriggle about. She is especially good at predicting jump scares and likes to shout in Sniff’s ear during them.

Sniff tends to choose fairly simple, low brow stuff. Buddy Cop films, movies about counting cards in Vegas, anything starring someone who was on SNL in the 1990’s. These tend to be Snufkin’s least favorite nights, and he tends to complain through them. As for Sniff, he tends to get very confused during movies. “Is that the guy from the beginning?” “Wait, where did that come from?” “Why is everyone laughing, I don’t get it?” are very common questions. Moomintroll is most likely to answer Sniff’s many questions, as Snufkin and Snorkmaiden are rarely paying Sniff any attention and Little My tends to fib and confuse Sniff even more. 

Snorkmaiden tends to choose things like romcoms, fairy tale adaptations, popular musicals, glamorously pretentious foreign films, and classic Disney movies. She’s really very observant and can usually pick up on plot twists long before they happen. She enjoys sighing dramatically at the appropriate moments and reveling in the spectacle of films. She watches movies to enjoy them. She has a lot of opinions and delights in playfully bickering with Snufkin on movie night.

Snufkin tends to pick obscure and intellectually pretentious foreign films that require subtitles, old timey queer coded stuff, indie films, movies with clear environmental or socialist undertones, bizarre animated movies from the 70’s that are oddly engaging yet baffling, and anything that would make a person ask “What the heck did I just watch?” Snufkin’s picks are always Sniff’s least favorite, and he complains throughout. Snufkin likes to point out symbolism in movies and read between the lines. Just like Snorkmaiden, he tends to have a lot of opinions. He often goes into movie night telling himself he will be aloof as is standard, but Snorkmaiden usually (deliberately, and in good fun) gets to him.

Moomintroll is the only person here who just wants to eat popcorn and watch movies in peace. Is that too much to ask? He tends to pick fairly standard stuff: Franchise movies, popular mainstream things everyone is at least vaguely familiar with, seasonal favorites (always a spooky movie in October, for example). He’s here to laugh or cry and move on with his life, not listen to people use big words like ennui and ingénue and proletariat. He’s the person most likely doing the shushing.

((He’s having a lot of fun, too. He just has to be dramatic about it))

If you are anyone other than Moomintroll, then watching Snorkmaiden and Snufkin playfully and enthusiastically flex their debating skills is the highlight of the event. Their commentary is the stuff of legend. Even Sniff, who has very little of an idea what they are talking about, finds it fascinating to watch these two people who don’t often interact match wits. Movie night is very intellectually stimulating for both of them. They both love Moomintroll in their own way, but he really isn’t the most intellectual person either of them knows (even if Snufkin is too nice to say it).

I can take almost any movie and write out how their interactions would go. Let’s take Les Miserables. Ten minutes in and, predictably, Snufkin has opinions about the bourgeoisie. Snorkmaiden interrupts to tell him to “Stop making Les Mis political and just enjoy watching the sexy French people suffer.” She knows Les Mis is political but she also knows this will get a rise out of Snufkin. It does. “Les Mis can’t NOT be political!” Snufkin insists and now they are off. Is it romantic or insufferable that Marius falls in love with Cossette on first sight and can’t focus on the revolution anymore? Is Javert redeemable? Is anyone surprised Sniff’s favorite characters are the Innkeepers?

Other than their own choices, Snufkin and Snorkmaiden tend to best enjoy one another’s choices. As much as Snufkin might act like a hipster and Snorkmaiden might act like a… prep (I guess??), they actually share a lot of interests. When Snorkmaiden announces she wants to watch Mamma Mia! Snufkin is the most excited member of the group. When Snufkin shows them a South Korean drama called Castaway on the Moon Snorkmaiden is enchanted and loves it. Little My will never let anyone forget the time Snufkin actually cried during The Fox and the Hound (and during the last fifteen minutes didn’t mention monopolies even once!) or the time she caught Snorkmaiden writing fanfiction for the film Saving Face.

The tradition continues for a long time; it is important for the people who found a family in the Moomins to come together sometimes, even if they normally don’t have much in common. As other kids that Moominmamma takes in (like Ninny) get older, they probably join in too.

[madelainesvixens]

Title: Masked ID

Ship: Veronica Lodge + Sweet Pea (Sweet Vee)

_______________

Sweet Pea loved Halloween.

As a kid, it was the only holiday he ever was looking forward to. He loved to scare Toni and other Serpents with creepy masks, fake knives and red syrup.

One time, Fangs almost peed his pants. It was hilarious.

Needless to say, when Veronica announced him that they'd be having a Halloween party at La Bonne Nuit, he was thrilled.

For the past two weeks, Veronica and him had worked on the decors, making plans and ordering online a bunch of accessories and props that would transform the beauty of the old age casino into an epic spooky dream.

''Don't go too gore with the decors, mi amor. We don't want to scare the clients away,'' Veronica reminded him, seeing him eyeing a headless prop on the computer screen.

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. ''Halloween is supposed to be scary, Veronica,'' he countered, scrolling down the page and stealing Veronica's laptop from the bed to type something. ''We need a smoke machine. Can we have that?''

The raven haired girl hesitated, not quite getting her boyfriend's ideas. ''Eh, I guess...''

''Yes!'' Sweet Pea exclaimed, pumping his fist excitedly.

She chuckled, looking at him with fond eyes. It was so rare of him to get this excited over events - or anything, really -, it was cute.

Almost as cute as the time he had stayed behind to help her clean up at La Bonne Nuit. There had been some misunderstandings between a Serpent and a Bulldog a couple months ago and, as expected, a punch had been thrown and resulted into a fight. Reggie had been quick to break it up with the help of Sweet Pea, but there was some damages made. Broken glass, blood stains and else. After everyone had left, the raven haired girl had been surprised to see that Sweet Pea was still there, a broomstick in hand, sweeping glass shards from the floor.

That night was also the same night she had invited him over at the Pembrooke - for drinks, she said. Needless to say, not much drinks were drank that night, but a lot of sultry kisses were exchanged as they fell on Veronica's bed.

Smiling at the memory, Veronica put her head on his shoulder as he searched online, the soft burnt red flannel rubbing against her cheek.

''Do you have a costume in mind for Halloween?'' Sweet Pea asked. ''PLease tell me it's not some sexy animal or I'll vomit on your expensive carpet.''

She scrunched her nose. ''My costume is picked. And, don't worry. I'm not think kind of girl, but I'm offended you thought so of me. I'm a Lodge, I have class.''

A low laugh rumbled from Sweet Pea's stomach as he shook his head. ''What is it?''

''It's a secret,'' Veronica proudly informed. ''I think you'll like it.''

Her lips twisted into a confident, malicious smile and Sweet Pea grinned, leaning down to kiss her.

''Consider me intrigued.''

.

Dressed in her mini dress and feathery black wings, Veronica stood in the middle of La Bonne Nuit, admiring the spooky makeover she and Sweet Pea had given to the place. It was almost unrecognizable under all those spiderwebs, decors and props. She was very proud of their work.

Who knew Sweet Pea was great at decorating?

The stage had been turned into a jail cell with creepy props and strobe lights, the bar was covered in spiderwebs and all glasses had been replaced by halloween themed ones to go with the ambiance.

She had just finished writing down the special menu of the night on the blackboard when her phone screen lit up across the bar. Veronica put her chalk down and went to grab her phone when the lights flickered in the basement, making her frown.

Must be a power overload from all the lights and decors, she assumed. The place is old.

She reached for the device and read the screen: Masked ID. Her frown deepened. Who could this be? Her father? Prisons have masked numbers, right? Why would he call her though?

''Hello?'' she answered, curiosity and confusion in her tone.

No response.

''Hello?'' she repeated.

Still no response.

With a sigh, Veronica hung up, thinking it was some prank à la Scream - kids do that these days - when someone grabbed her from behind, causing her to let out a high pitched scream, her phone dropping on the floor.

Pop was upstairs, running the diner and Veronica was hoping he'd hear her and come down. Being a pacifist, Pop probably wouldn't fight her attacker from lack of defense knowledge, but he could call the cops.

Before Veronica could scream out for help again, any sound she thought of making was muffled by her attackers hand as he held her firmly against his chest.

A red light flashed in the young Lodge's mind, refusing to let whoever was attacking her go without a fight.

Since getting exposed to her father's mobster life, Veronica had learned how to defend and protect herself from possible harm.

She still didn't know how to fire a gun like her mom, but Veronica Lodge was not a damsel in distress. She knew how to fight back, and this was the perfect time to put her knowledge into action.

Rapidly studying her situation, she tried to jab her attacker with her elbows and free herself, causing them to get tangled into some spiderwebs and witch props, startling her attacker for a few seconds before he steadied himself, giving her barely enough time to escape.

She made a run for the stairs, praying that she wouldn't slip in her high heels boots but, just as she was about to reach the first stair, she screamed as a gloved hand pulled her back and pressed her against the wall, giving her full sight of her attacker's cult mask and blue mechanic cover-all.

''What do you want? Let go of me!'' Veronica demanded, voice steady and firm despite how scared she was.

She tried to reach up to remove his mask, but he grabbed her hands and secured them in his fist, preventing her from revealing his identity.

He didn't say anything, he just pressed his body against hers and, for a fraction of second, Veronica thought she was about to get raped. Her heart was beating fast behind her chest, getting flashbacks from her night with Nick St. Clair.

She opened her mouth to scream again, being closer to the door this time and having a better chance for Pop to hear her distress, but her breath caught in her throat, feeling something cool touching her neck. A blade.

Veronica stilled and gulped, terror flashing through her eyes.

A familiar laugh filled the air, giving away the identity of the masked asshole she called her boyfriend. She narrowed her eyes and hit his chest and shoulder, not holding back. ''You're such an asshole, Sweet Pea! Good Lord, never do that again...''

He removed his Michael Myers mask, revealing a big grin. ''You should've seen your face! You looked terrified,'' Sweet Pea pointed, still laughing.

She shouldn't have expected any less of him. He was an horror fanatic, after all. He even dressed up as his favorite slasher protagonist.

Veronica gave him a stern look, raising her arms. ''Of course I was! I thought someone was going to murder me. I had all the rights to be scared.''

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. ''It wasn't even a real blade...'' She crossed her arms and he sighed, knowing what she was waiting for. ''I'm sorry...that I didn't get this on video.''

She swatted his chest and he pulled her into his hold, going in for a hug of forgiveness, but stopped mid-way, taking notice of her outfit. He had no idea what she was dressed as, maybe some bat or maybe that girl from Black Swan. What he knew was that she looked fucking hot in this fitted dress, hugging her in all the right paces.

Holding her at arm length, Sweet Pea glancing up and down. ''Fuck. You're going to be the death of me, Veronica Lodge,'' the Serpent declared, capturing his bottom lip with his teeth as he ran his hand on Veronica's sides, following the curve of her body. 

A fierce grin formed on Veronica's lips, cocking a perfectly plucked eyebrow. She took a step forward and closed the space between them, the tall one's cologne filling her nose. Sweet Pea's breath hitched as he leaned down, following her as she leaned in for a kiss but, just before her lips touched his, she abruptly dodged them, bringing her lips are next to his ear instead.

''I'm warning you,'' she said, her breath blowing on the shell of his ear as she spoke. ''If you take this knife to my bedroom, I'm going to be the one pointing it at you.''

Taking advantage of Sweet Pea's distraction to reach for the fake knife in his back pocket, stepping back to wiggle it between them.

A smirk formed on his lips. ''Noted.''

[noisycowboyglitter]

"The "Worst Sexy Pirate Costume Ever Tank Top": A Hilarious Twist on a Classic Look"

The "Worst Sexy Pirate Costume Ever Tank Top" is a humorous and self-aware take on the often absurd world of Halloween costumes. This tank top playfully mocks the trend of "sexy" versions of traditional costumes, particularly the ubiquitous sexy pirate outfit.

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The concept behind this tank top is to provide a lazy, minimalist alternative to elaborate pirate costumes. It's likely a plain tank top with text proclaiming it to be the "Worst Sexy Pirate Costume Ever," possibly accompanied by a simple, crudely drawn pirate symbol like a skull and crossbones or a ship's wheel.

This item appeals to those with a sense of irony and a disdain for overly sexualized or complicated Halloween costumes. It's perfect for people who want to participate in Halloween festivities without the hassle of putting together a full costume. The tank top serves as both a costume and a commentary on costume culture.

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The "sexy pirate" trope is a common target for satire due to its prevalence and often ridiculous nature. Traditional pirate attire - rugged, practical clothing for life at sea - is typically transformed into revealing, impractical outfits that bear little resemblance to actual pirate gear. This tank top acknowledges and lampoons this trend.

Wearing this tank top to a Halloween party or event would likely spark conversations and laughs. It's a conversation starter that allows the wearer to critique the commercialization and sexualization of Halloween costumes while still participating in the fun of dressing up.

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This product caters to a market of Halloween enthusiasts who appreciate meta-humor and prefer comfort and simplicity over elaborate costumes. It's an ideal choice for those who want to make a statement without much effort.

Couples Halloween costumes are coordinated outfits worn by partners to celebrate the spooky holiday together. These costumes range from classic pairings like Romeo and Juliet or salt and pepper shakers, to pop culture duos such as Mario and Luigi or Eleven and Mike from Stranger Things.

The appeal lies in the shared experience of brainstorming, creating, and showcasing a unified theme. Couples can express their personalities, shared interests, or inside jokes through their costume choice. Options vary from simple, store-bought ensembles to elaborate, handmade creations.

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These costumes are popular at Halloween parties, costume contests, and themed events. They often become conversation starters and photo opportunities. The trend has expanded beyond romantic couples to include friends, siblings, or even pet-and-owner duos, making it a versatile and fun way to celebrate Halloween.

[twistedsin]

Tangled Up in You

Twisted Halloween Event: Azul Ashengrotto

Costume: Mummy (his event outfit) 

Azul had been staring at the clock all night, he had hardly been enjoying the party he was throwing. Usually he would be all over the floor, mingling and building good will but his mind was other things. "Jade... how are..." 

"The refreshments? Same as when you asked 15 minutes ago." He gave his usual polite smile, hiding the irritation. Azul sighed, pushing up his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry... It's just- Floyd!" Azul called out in surprise as he saw the trouble some eel walking past. "You're supposed to be watching the door." 

"Ehh? That got boring." Floyd shrugged walking up next to Jade. "Besides, the special guest arrived so it doesn't matter anymore right?" He and his brother gave a taunting grin as Azul's face filled with annoyance before it quickly flushed with embarrassment and nerves. 

"When did they get here? Wh-why didn't you tell me? Where are they now?" He sputtered frantically, to the twins amusement. 

"They're waiting for you at the bar." Jade handed him two glasses of Spiced Cider. "It's only been a few minuets." 

"You knew!" "That's not important right now. It's time to go greet your date." Jade and Floyd together pushed Azul through the kitchen doors and out into the party, and then standing in the way of the door so he couldn't come back in. 

"There you are!" You smiled at Azul when finally approached. "I'm sorry I was late, costume malfunction. You look nice, a skeleton? Or mummy?" You pondered reviewing the white tattered shirt with black underlying. Your eyes lingered for an extra moment on the leather harness on his chest.  Your mind flashed to an intriguing thought of him wearing just the harness on his chest, tied up in his own bandages. Those tight pants with the bulge of his crotch straining against the fabric. You brought a hand to your mouth to hide as you bit your lip. You looked away a moment to regain you composure. Of course something like that wouldn't happen, you two had hardly done anything intimate, let alone romantic. You didn't even know if he returned your feelings, of attraction or lust. "It looks very nice." You flashed a smile and Azul could feel his heart beat faster. "You look very good as well, like an angel." 

"I was going for dove." You sighed, saddened that the idea of the costume you worked so hard on didn't get through and misinterpreting the intent of his statement. Azul was quick to recover. "Apologies. I'm still not too familiar with land birds. You look beautiful either way." He gave a charming smile as he offered you a glass. You felt your cheeks burn, as you managed to process the compliment. That was good sign right? 

The two of you went on chatting about school and commenting on the party. "I shouldn't be keeping you. I'm sure there are others at this party you want to talk too. And I want to walk around a little." You opened your arms for a hug which Azul happily accepted though he rather would have continued to spend time with you. He enjoyed it but made it brief to not be too weird, however when he was pulling away he felt a resistance from his sleeves. "Ah... I think my bandages got caught in your wings." The two of you were so close, this was so embarrassing. Both of you started turning red. Azul tried pulling harder but you could feel it tugging at your wings, "Stop stop, don't rip it!" He immediately stopped and sighed. "This is awkward..." He kept his face turned away from you. "My office is just around the corner I have scissors in there."

"Okay." Awkwardly the two of you shuffled into his office.  

It was a little hard for the two of you to figure out positioning and movement to search through the desk drawers and it really wasn't efficient. "I might be able to take off the shirt if you can reach the belts instead." Azul suggested seeing option A was not working well. However you were hesitant, remembering the harness and the fantasy with it. You bit your lip... it was so embarrassing to think about these things with him so close. "A-alright I can do that." Your hands began to fiddle with the three belts along his waist. Once undone, Azul was able to wiggle out of the shirt, leaving it hanging off you. Now that you had space you were able to detach your wings. You set the tangled mess on the couch with a sigh of relief, "finally." 

"I didn't think something like that would happen." 

"Yeah, it's quite a story though." You laughed, looking over eyes instantly widening at his exposed stomach. Apparently he had just been wearing a crop top underneath the shirt and harness, so now he only had on tight l black with exposed stomach and arms. For a moment Azul noted you stare and felt quite confident in his look, and then you quickly looked away. He felt a little self conscious once again but there wasn't much he could do. The was an awkward silence as Azul finally found the scissors and went over and started cutting the strips free from his shirt so he could easily detangle them from your wings. "What are you doing! Your costume!" You gasped, shocked. "It's fine, you worked hard on yours." He freed another strip. "Floyd probably wrecked his too." 

You were silent. You felt a bit guilty it had to end this way. Slowly you picked up one of the bandages he dropped and moved behind him. You stared at it for just a moment, reviewing your feelings and deciding this was the best option. Once Azul set down the scissors you pulled the cloth strip over his eyes pulling his head back so you were able to lean over and kiss him. "Mm-" Azul was very startled from being pulled back and everything going dark but he eventually settled into the pleasant feeling of your lips on his. He kissed you again and again. He raised a hand to pull you closer as he wanted more  of you but you instead grabbed it pulling away just a bit. Azul panted, out of breath but wanting more. "I've been wanting to kiss you for so long... I want you. Please." He whispered, remaining still.

It was good he left the blindfold on because you felt yourself becoming red as a tomato. He wanted you, did that also mean he liked you? Either way this was good enough for now. "I... I want you too. I also want to tie you up... can I?" You asked, giving a him a few other kisses along his face. "Yes. If you take the blindfold off. You can have me in anyway you want, I just want to see you." You removed the cloth from his eyes and began to position his arms behind his back. He obeyed, moving with your touch and held still while you tied them. "Very good." You praised before giving him another kiss you knew he was oh so desperate for. After another small make out session with a little more tongue you pulled away and sat back on the couch. "I think we should just have a party of our own back here." You smiled, pooping off your shoes and setting them to the side. You set your foot over his crotch pushing lightly. Azul eagerly began shifting his hips against it, "Anything you want."   

This was going to be quite a fun night.

[headoverhiddles]

Moving Shadows - Mr. Corrigan (Christopher Lee) x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: Visiting a friend in rural Wales one night, you get lost on the way, and end up at the house of the long shadows. You and one man in the mysterious gathering of strangers attract each other.

Notes: This is from the spooky movie House Of The Long Shadows! Christopher Lee is especially sexy in it, acting alongside Peter Cushing and Vincent Price, so I thought I'd do up this spooky little smut in honor of October! 🎃🕸️🦇

Also!! If anyone has actually seen the movie, this fic disregards the twist. Cause I didn’t like it lol. 

It should be right this way.

Then again, that's what you told yourself an hour ago. Looking at the blinking out time on your crappy car radio, you frown. It's nearly the middle of the night, and you can't, for the life of you, find yourself on this gigantic map the prickly station worker had handed you.

There, in the distance.

Flickering lights from lanterns in the window draw you to a huge manor, at the end of a winding road. You can barely see through the heavy downpour of the thunderstorm, but you can tell it's not your friend's house. He's not that rich.

Well. It'll have to do for now, at least until this rain dies down.

You pull up the road, and thankfully, the gates are open. You park by the door, and run inside, covering your head.

Drenched and cold, you hurry inside... only to find that the entryway is less than welcoming. The light you saw in the window seems to have vanished, leaving the old place in complete damp, eerie darkness. You peer around, through the cobwebs and outlines of furniture. Or what could be furniture.

"And just who are you, now?"

You jump, and put a hand over your heart. A tall man with a flickering candle illuminating his face stands behind you. He appears more than a little inconvenienced by your appearance.

"I-I just came in from the rain. M-my name's (y/n) (y/l/n)... I didn't mean to intrude."

"Yes, that seems to be the common greeting tonight," the man sighs, and you frown.

"Wh-who are you?" you ask softly, shivering. The man stares for a second, then holds the candle closer to your face. Seeing how cold and disheveled you look, he sighs a second time.

"You had better come in, Miss (y/l/n). I don't want to be responsible for the death of a young woman on my front doorstep." He leads you in, and down the dark hallway somewhere.

"So. This is your place?" you ask, blowing on your hands. The man nods curtly.

"It should very well be."

Not really understanding what he means, you blow harder into your cupped hands, and the man looks over.

"Here," he mumbles, taking pity on you. He removes his tuxedo jacket, and drapes it around your shoulders.

"Oh, I couldn't," you start to say.

"You can and you will," he replies gently, eyebrows lifting a little more kindly than when you two had met. "You're freezing half to death, my dear, and I won't have it." You smile, managing to blush under the cold. He's a gentleman, and a handsome one at that. His hand hasn't left your shoulder, and you bite your lip as you look back at the slightly older man. He is very attractive, even in this low light. Just your type.

"Are you--" you begin to ask,

"Great. Who's this one now?!" a loud, grating voice rings out. You two come up on the entrance to a lavish dining room, containing a somewhat gaudy banquet table set for six. You quickly run over to the fireplace, and kneel down to warm up. The rest of the people in the room, who seem to be dressed for some sort of formal event, all stare curiously.

"Oh sure. Just come right in, make yourself at home," the young man with the loud voice huffs, tossing his hands up. The older gentleman from the door clenches his jaw.

"Need I remind you, Mr. Magee, that this is my house, to invite in who I see fit?"

"Hardly," an older, posh British man says with a distasteful little purse of his lips. An eyebrow is raised.

"The same reminder goes for you and your family, Mr. Grisbane."

"I never!" the posh man begins.

"Oh, I don't think we should fight over it," a shorter elderly man cuts in, hurrying over to pat you on the back, "Our doors are always open to those in need, like this poor young girl."

"My doors," the man from the door smiles tightly.

"But think of the web she has now ensnared herself in," Grisbane says pointedly, turning from the bowl of punch, "Think of that, Sebastian." Sebastian bows his head, silent.

"I... I really am sorry," you speak up, feeling like you're in the way, no matter how many people argue about it. "I'll be gone in five minutes, tops. I just wanted to dry my--"

"No, no. You will stay here until this rain stops, and that is final," the man says sternly, and walks over to you, glaring at Sebastian until he hurries back into his corner like a door mouse. "My dear. You have not been properly introduced, and as we have concluded you will be staying for the time being... I suppose the right thing to do would be to acquaint you as well as I am able." He looks around at the others.

"Lionel Grisbane, as I have come to know," he nods to the posh man by the punch, who gives a solemn nod back. "Sebastian Grisbane, his younger brother," the frightened little man nods as well, "Author if I am not mistaken, Kenneth Magee..."

"You're not mistaken," Kenneth quickly confirms, shooting you a wave.

"--his... friend, Miss Norton. Everybody, this is Miss (y/n) (y/l/n)." He turns to you, taking your hand to shake. "And I, am the owner of this house. Mr. Corrigan."

"That is a matter of perspective, I would say," Lionel mutters.

"Mr. Corrigan," you repeat, captivated for a second by the intensity of his stare. "Pleased to meet you." You remember your manners. "All of you. I really do thank you, it's just that-- I can't see anything out there, and the maps look like a bunch of garden snakes trying to get jiggy with it!" Ken and Mary Norton burst into quiet laughter, and you blush as you realize the sort of people you're around.

"Sorry."

Ruffled a little, Corrigan nods.

Lionel checks his watch. "Well. On that note. Before the lovely Miss (y/l/n) made her grand entrance, we were discussing a matter of utmost prudence."

"Oh, yes," Kenneth sighs sarcastically, "The matter of your locked up brother who escaped somewhere in this godforsaken place?"

Your eyes widen, as you pretend not to be too shocked. Had you happened upon the wrong house this late at night?

"You're scaring (y/n)," Miss Norton bites her lip, and you turn.

"No, I'm... okay, really. I have no business being here in the first place."

"But she could help," Lionel narrows his eyes, stalking toward you, "She could lure him out."

"She will do absolutely nothing of the sort," Corrigan steps in to once again stand up for you. You smile a little, and he straightens up, standing by your side.

"I'm afraid the only remaining alternative we have then, is to split up," Lionel says, lighting a candelabra one wick at a time and glancing up through the orange glow. "Divide our investigation throughout the property."

"Oh," Sebastian starts to fret, downing his glass of wine. You look up at Corrigan, who seals his lips into a tight line. It's decided then. You suppose going along with all of this would be safer than staying somewhere by yourself, during... whatever it was that you had the misfortune of happening upon tonight.

---

"I'll stay with Miss Norton," Kenneth starts off by saying, "We'll investigate the basement."

"Myself and Sebastian will look around the main floor," Lionel says, "Which leaves Miss (y/l/n) and Mr. Corrigan the upstairs."

"So it does," you nod, and take his arm. "Mr. Corrigan? Lead the way."

He swallows, and the two of you take a candelabra, navigating the stairway up as thunder booms outside. Branches cast spindley shadows, and with every occupied spiderweb you nearly walk through, your nerves are set even more on edge.

"Well, I've got to say that with some maniac brother on the loose, I'm starting to regret stopping in to wait out the storm," you tease, tightening your grip on the arm of Corrigan's well-tailored suit. He inhales through his nose, and lifts the candles up to the peeling wallpaper.

"That brings me to a question that's been weighing on my mind."

"Mhmm? Ask away."

"What the devil are you doing this far North in Wales, Miss (y/l/n)?" Corrigan asks you.

"Visiting a friend. Or, I was. Didn't expect my night to turn out like this," you laugh.

"Yes, well. Can I confess something?" He leans in. "Neither did I." You two share a chuckle.

"I was going to ask you something earlier as well..." you bring up, and bite your lip. "Are you married?"

"I'm not," he admits, keeping his eyes ahead down the creaking hallway, "Not any longer. My wife passed away."

"Oh," your face falls as your any possibilities for the night are dashed, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but it was years ago. Nine, to be exact. I loved her, but she was sick. I've moved on with my life, as she would have wanted." He looks down at you. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious," you say, and your eyes flicker down to his lips. He parts them.

"Miss (y/l/n)--"

Suddenly, you feel a door knob along the wall. "Here," you whisper.

"Let me go first," he puts a hand in front of you, and moves forward. "Is there anybody in here?" he asks, lighting the oil lamp on the wall. At once, the room is illuminated, so reveal what appears to be a woman's uninhabited bedroom.

"Doesn't look like there is," you say, checking under the bed. Corrigan checks the closet, and sets the candelabra down.

"I'm starting to believe that crazy family downstairs fabricated this entire peril, in a ploy to get us out of the house," Corrigan looks up grimly.

"Why would they want to do that?" you ask, "You own it."

"They've got it in their heads that since this was their ancestral home, it still belongs to them. They are sorely mistaken."

"What do you plan to do with it?"

"Tear it down. Develop."

You shrug. "Smart, I suppose." You do love the charm or the old place, but it didn't make very much sense to keep it around if he didn't have any sentimental attachment to it.

Corrigan turns to do one last sweep of the room, but hesitates to douse the light. Your soaked through white shirt is falling down your shoulder to expose your collarbone, and the very top of your left breast.

"I..." Corrigan starts to say, and wills himself to take his eyes off you. But he can't.

"What?" you look up, brow furrowed in concentration. He lets out a breath, and you instantly recognize his expression. You can tell when a man wants you. "Mr. Corrigan?"

"We'd better continue our search."

You stand up, brushing your hair back. God, he's so much taller than you. "I don't think we have to go just yet. I mean... it's like you said. This could all be one big lie." You walk toward him slowly, and his back shuts the bedroom door. "You could be lying to me, too. And I could be lying to you. We're strangers, you and I, and everyone in this house. Exciting, isn't it?" You smile.

"Very," he replies darkly, eyes roaming down your body. Your lips turn up even more, as you encourage him to slide a hand around your waist.

"Think about who I could be. I could be a killer. I could be a virgin, innocent and ready to be shown how it's done..." You pout, then grin. "But I'm neither." You press your lips up to his, and he lets out a breath he'd been holding, moaning. His hands travel down, one cupping your thigh and the other reaching between your legs. You laugh, walking him back toward the bed with one hand around his tie.

"Not so much of a gentleman anymore, are you, Mr. Corrigan?"

"On the contrary," he whispers, undoing your buttons and laying you into the pillows, "I am always a gentleman." He moves downward, parting your legs and pressing a soft kiss to your panties.

"Oh," you breathe, and he kisses further down, swirling his tongue gently. Finally, he moves up, and resumes kissing you. After taking off his shirt, you break away. "I guess it'd be a laugh to assume you've got protection on you," you sigh.

"My only sexual partner was my wife," Corrigan tells you, chest heaving. "And yours?"

"I've had a few, but I'm tested and on the birth control."

He captures your mouth again, and you breathe in relief, wrapping your legs around his back. You use this position to your advantage, turning both of you over. "Do you like this position, Mr. Corrigan?" you ask.

"I can't say I object," he smiles, and you straddle his hips, lifting over top of him. He groans, holding your hips down as you start to rock. "It's been so long..." he whispers. "Nobody's wanted me the way you do."

"Nobody's cared for me quite like you did," you reply, dragging your chest against his as you sink down again.

"I can't imagine why," he rasps, "You're a beautiful woman." You blush, and ride him harder, moaning his name.

"I'm close," you say. He turns you both over, so that he's on top, covering you with his body, making you feel safe beneath him.

"I want to watch you finish in my arms," he mumbles against your lips, and you see his jaw clench as you grasp onto his bare arms.

"You're so big... god, you feel so good..."

"Mmm, (y/n)."

You gasp, and he growls, beginning to make each thrust harder, deeper.

"Please!" you cry, then bite your fist, remembering that you have to keep your voice down.

"It's alright," he says softly.

"But the others--"

"Pay them no mind," he smirks down at you, "This is, after all... my house."

You hold tightly onto him as you come hard, and he moans not long after, finishing at the same time. He rolls off of you, laying back on the pillows beside you. You sigh contentedly as the shutters shake, banging around to remind you of the current terrifying situation you should be worrying about.

"Listen to the rain coming down-- it's not letting up. I wonder if they've found anything down there."

"Or anybody," he huffs, stretching an arm around you. You cuddle into his chest.

"Made up or not... I'm nervous in this old place. You'll protect me, won't you?"

He smirks. "I'd take an axe to the head for you, my dear. An axe to the head."

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

The Milo Murphy’s Law Wiki Guy AU: Balthazar Cavendish Vs The World: Chapter 6: Act 1: In The Windmills of Your Mind

“It can’t be!”, Cavendish gasped, but it was.

 Above him was a ceiling of dirt and sediment, hard and strong, near inpenetrable from here.

 Below him, even harder solid rock, which was ever more inmpenetrable than the ceiling.

 All there was in front of him, aside from tiny pebbles and the occasional Earth worm, was a dark, spooky cavern, a path that Cavendish dared not tread, a hole to a time before, a time oft buried deep inside.

 A tunnel.

 It wasn’t the most impressive tunnel, truth be told; It was moldy, it was dusty, and there wasn’t a single fancy curtain or welcome mat in sight.

 Why, what a refreshing change some daisy’s would do!

 Alas, this tunnel was no fancy tunnel.

 It was just a tunnel, one with major importance to Cavendish, but just a tunnel.

 Cavendish gulped. Despite never having been here before, despite being a complete stranger to this world within the core, he somehow felt like he knew what was at the end of the tunnel.

 And he desperately didn’t want to take the journey.

 In fact, he didn’t need to.

 Right behind him, a door opened, and oh was it inviting!

 In fact, if Cavendish’s eyes were not deceiving him, a party was being held there!

 Streamers, banners, and a glorious blinding light emanated from the doorway, and if his ears were as functional as his eyes, Cavendish could swear he was hearing his name being sung in celebration!

 Soothing smells wafted from the door, tempting Cavendish to join in on the fun!

 “Mmm mmm!”, Cavendish exclaimed, his stomach now remembering that he had not eaten in days and loudly reminding Cavendish of that fact. “Sponge cake and a spot of tea would do marvelously!”

 But a niggling need called for his attention, a feeling of curiosity and, perhaps, responsibility, demanded his presence in the tunnel.

 Cavendish licked his lips as he thought of the possible pleasure to be had in the party.

 He could feel its safe promise, its affirmation he so wanted to hear.

 In the party, he would be justified, he would be hailed, he would be king!

 In the room that was angonizingly close, Cavendish would be right.

 So why were his legs moving towards the tunnel?

 Demanding a reprieve, Cavendish forced his legs to turn, almost twisting them as he found himself once again in front of the dream destination of the room.

 And as he moved towards it, each step a struggle, Cavendish began to smile.

 Surely this was the right way!

 But there was that impossible to ignore concern again.

 There was that hesitation, that all consuming fear that…

 The hard way was right.

 He had to go right.

 Regardless of how much it could hurt.

 Cavendish looked back at the tunnel, his pupils widening with fear as he thought of going back to the tunnel, of digging deeper into his pain, his torment, his flaws.

 The past hurt.

 And Cavendish had been hurt enough for a lifetime or two.

 But try as he might…

 He couldn’t go to the party.

 Not yet.

 Not when his heart hurt like this.

 Not when the possibility of wrongdoing was still alive.

 For a moment he had thought that he had not thanked Dakota properly.

 For a moment he had thought that he had mistreated his partner.

 For a moment he had thought that he was wrong.

 And he NEVER thought that.

 “…Whether or not something is wrong… I clearly feel off.”, Cavendish reasoned, his legs slowly turning the right way.

 Taking a deep breath, he took a step forwards.

 “Even if this all turns out to be nothing and I am as perfect as I think I am…”

 He took another step.

 “I must be sure. I can’t rest until I’m sure.”

 And so, Cavendish gave up on giving up, and he took the terrifying journey down the trail of buried memories and traumatic pasts.

 Matt:

Like A Tunnel…

Megan:

That You Follow…

 The tunnel was dark and cold, just as Cavendish had suspected.

 A pungent odor permeated the premises, and all Cavendish could hear were the crunching of tiny pebbles under his shoes.

 The party was long gone by now, and Cavendish had the terrible feeling that even if he wanted to go back, he wouldn’t be able to.

 Sometimes, he heard a faint sound. The shattering of a plate, the slamming of a door, the growl of a wild animal.

 Cavendish wondered if perhaps this place housed a Hobbit with anger management issues, but instead, he was met with something very different indeed: Floating shards of glass.

 The shards illuminated the dark tunnel, their brilliant light twinkling like a star.

 Cavendish was near awe struck by the beauty of it all, and for a moment, he forgot his troubles as he admired the sparkling fragments, sitting on the ground, his eyes focused on nothing else.

 But this rest was not for long: Holding his hand out, Cavendish caught one of the shards and brought it up close to observe it.

 But instead of a reflection, the shard offered a flashback: Playing almost like a video clip, Cavendish was reminded of his one sided fight with Dakota back in the dancing area of Chez Chaz.

 “Was that really just a week ago?”, Cavendish thought glumly, watching the painful memory play on loop on the tiny piece.

 For what must have been the hundredth time today, a shiver ran down Cavendish’s spine as he saw himself act in what he was told was the right way, but was increasingly feeling like the wrong way.

 Wishing to ignore the pounding guilt, Cavendish tried to let the shard go, but instead of floating away forever, the glass stuck itself to the wall of the tunnel.

 Cavendish, struggling to believe this, rubbed his eyes, only for the shard to not only stay there, but to begin to glow around the outline!

 “Like…”, Cavendish began to realize, the wheels of his mind turning. “…Like a puzzle piece…”

 In fact, now that he mentioned it, Cavendish noticed that a shard to his left that would fit perfectly next to the right side of the shard on the wall.

 Unsure of the meaning of this game, but too curious to back off now, Cavendish began to retrieve pieces, piecing together the answer to his present from the events of the past.

 The hard part was surprisingly not the logistics of assembling the jigsaw; Cavendish was quite fond of such games and he had an eye for detail, so that came quite easily to him.

 It was the memories that gnawed at his brain with no rest.

 Cavendish didn’t understand how he did not remember most of these, but the moment he saw them they all came rushing back.

 There he was, shattering a plate in anger, outraged at being told by Dakota that he wasn’t renting the movie this time; there he was, slamming the door, causing Dakota to jump in fright because he dared suggest not to spy on Milo; there he was, growling and baring his teeth at Dakota, who had just asked him to be less angry.

 Cavendish just couldn’t comprehend it. These were the actions of a monster, not of someone like him, someone poised, someone elegant!

 Balthazar Cavendish was better than that…

 No?

 But the evidence was there, pictures and everything!

 And pictures don’t lie!

 “Well, except for when they’re being faked, but I doubt that’s the case here.”, Cavendish reasoned, but it did not ease his soul.

 Still, something felt wrong.

 Nearly finished with the puzzle, Cavendish looked behind him to see that Matt and Megan were suddenly back, now present with not only their voices, but their bodies.

 Fearing the answer, but needing it still, Cavendish turned to them, a few pieces still shining bright in his hand.

 “…What will I see when I finish the puzzle?”, he asked, averting his gaze.

 Matt and Megan’s answer echoed across the halls of Cavendish’s mind.

 “You will see yourself.”

 “Considering how this day has been going, not something I will like, then?”, Cavendish asked, but the two were already gone.

 Turning back, he mumbled an unsure “Ok” and got to work on the final pieces.

 More and more instances of unrequited mistreatment from Cavendish were seen by him, countless shouts and put downs and insults and more.

 He saw himself distance himself, he saw himself block and deflect Dakota’s love away, and he saw himself act like, for lack of a better word, like a prick.

 Cavendish sighed gloomily. At least he could argue that the last few accusations depended on your point of view: Here, there was no argument that Cavendish was doing something wrong.

 Finally, one piece left, he couldn’t stand it no more.

 Steam blowing out of his ears, he threw the shard down on the ground, and while it didn’t shatter, it didn’t stop Cavendish from stomping on the ground in anger, enraged and furious at all this.

 “It can’t be! It can’t be!”, Cavendish bellowed, wanting to smash his head in and be done with it.

 His whole self was terrified: The very concept of him having been completely and totally wrong for 35 years shook him to his very core.

 It wasn’t just a matter of ego (though Cavendish very much wanted to have that restored): If all these accusations, all these claims were true, this would mean that Cavendish had spent a majority of his life making the wrong choices, doing the wrong things, being the villain of his own story instead of the sexy and badass conquering hero.

 And even worse was that it made no sense!

 Wasn’t this how things were supposed to be?

 Society just worked that way!

He was supposed to be like this…

 No?

 Cavendish reanalyzed his last few thoughts as he rested on his knees.

 Was he supposed to be like this?

 If he was, surely he wouldn’t be feeling this guilty, surely his mind wouldn’t be sending him through this mad quest of introspection.

 …SOMETHING was wrong.

 Maybe it wasn’t him, but something WAS wrong.

 Cavendish sighed again and slowly picked up the final glass shard, his reflection bouncing off of it.

 He had to find out.

 He HAD to.

 The shard played a final memory: Dakota’s tears as Cavendish blamed it all on him.

 Dakota, the man who had saved his life over and over and over again…

 And he had made him cry, just because Dakota had dared correct him.

 Cavendish’s eyes narrowed, his heart beat slowed down and his will grew steady.

 Something was WRONG…

 And Cavendish was going to find out what it was, even if it painted him as the devil himself.

 Fueled with determination, Cavendish stood up, took a deep breath, and, with precise movement, he placed the piece in its place.

 A moment passed, and nothing happened. Cavendish wondered if perhaps he was supposed to say something, or maybe he had missed a piece.

 But he was soon answered: The tunnel rumbled, dirt falling on his head, dropping him to the ground with a thud.

 The finished puzzle glowed and hummed, as the pieces began to form a single image, a solid solution.

 Shaking the dirt off of his hat, Cavendish blinked the dust from his eyes and rubbed them to clear his blurry vision.

 Straddling to his feet, slipping for a moment, Cavendish was finally able to look into the mirror.

 For a moment, he hesitated: What was he going to see?

 But the fresh wound of his actions still burned, and Cavendish’s good side roused the courage to look in the mirror and into himself and see what was wrong.

 But even Cavendish’s good side was shocked into silence by the man staring back at him.

 Years of denial and walls of self protection crumbled to the ground as Cavendish observed the figure in the mirror, not even daring to touch its outstretched whitered hand or wheathered face.

 For in the reflection of the shiny white mirror stood not Balthazar T. Cavendish, the great hero who never faltered, nor Balthazar Cavendish, the toxic partner and “friend” who rejected love, or even Balthy, the genuinely well meaning person who truly did love his friends, who truly was good at heart.

 No, none of those were present in the mirror…

 For in the reflection stood none other than Balthazar Cavendish’s Father.

 Natalia:

To A Tunnel…

Nick:

Of Its Own…

 Shock, denial, rage, all filled up to the brim inside Cavendish’s mind.

 Why, the very idea!

 The NOTION that he, Balthazar T. Cavendish, was ANYTHING like that monster, that awful man, was… Was… Was nothing short of preposterous!

 “It… It can’t be!”, he suddenly shouted out, a mad look in his eyes as he stared back at his beast of a Father. “It… IT CAN’T BE!”

 “Oh, but it is, boy. Don’t you see?”, Cavendish Sr. said, calm, composed, cold and calculated in his approach. “You’ve finally become a man. You’ve finally become me.”

 Cavendish’s nostrils flared and his ears buzzed with deafening loudness as he began to pound the mirror, trying desperately not to think of all the things he had done.

 “No! I refuse to accept this! I am not like him! I could never be like him!”

 Pound, pound, pound went his hands on the mirror, which shook and started to form small cracks, but as ever, Cavendish failed to notice such details until it was too late, and then some.

 Continuing to impart “justice” on this slight on his honor, Cavendish began to scream his defense for all to hear, but mostly for himself.

 “I COULD NEVER BE LIKE HIM! IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE! IT. DOESN’T. MAKE….”

 But as Cavendish punctuated and emphasized the “SENSE!” in the sentence, the mirror shattered to a thousand shards once more, and as Cavendish tried to pound it again he found himself doing something impossible once more: He was falling into the mirror, as if it was a window to another dimension.

 Which it was, but to be fair, how could he know that?

 His eyes widened as he realized the fall that was befalling him, but alas, it was too late for poor Cavendish, who tumbled down, in what seemed to be, perculier as that is, a rabbit hole!

 As Cavendish fell, he began to notice a great many things that were wrong with this hole: Scientifically speaking, rabbits shouldn’t have maps or pictures hanging on pegs, let alone bookshelves!

 And what’s this? A jar of Orange Marmalade?

 Will the absurdities ever end?

 “Next thing you know, it’ll be wearing a waistcoat with a ridiculously large pocket watch!”, Cavendish joked to himself, whilst simultaneously noting that he had been falling for a long time.

 A gust of wind blew, and Cavendish saw his shirt fly up, which was odd, because 1. Gusts of wind don’t occur in rabbit holes, 2. His shirt shouldn’t be flying this high up and 3. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

 He was wearing a light blue and white dress, with a blue hair bow which fit quite nicely.

 Suddenly, Cavendish realized what was going on.

 “…You have got to be kidding me. Surely I’ve done at least 6 impossible things during breakfast alone!”, Cavendish complained to the people in charge of his long psychological analysis, but they would not listen.

 And so Cavendish continued to float down, with the occasional eye roll, scoff or tut as the ground came nearer and nearer and nearer and nearer and nearer and nearer and is that a zebra? Why is it calling him Kevin and oh look the ground!

 SMASH! went Cavendish as he crashed down, and, fixing his dress and shaking off the dirt from it, he started to observe his surroundings.

 Sure enough, he was now in a purple hallway, with absurdly proportioned tables and chairs, a tiny wooden door, and two white rabbits with waistcoats and giant pocket watches.

 The two rabbits (really Patrick and Penny in disguise) greeted him with the next two lyrics.

 Patrick:

Down A Hollow…

Penny:

To A Cavern…

 “Ooh, caverns, tunnels and hollows!”, Cavendish “gushed” as he began to follow the hopping rabbits down the hall. “Did the budget fail to consider my comfort? I could use a nice water bed, or a cruise ship. Or a giant cheese.”

 Sighing, he watched the rabbits impatiently as they opened the door. “I assume I must follow you to find out why you’d accuse me of such insanity as being like dear old dad?”

 The rabbits nodded as they expertly brought down the key from the high high table and began to fit it in the lock.

 Cavendish sighed. He DID want to find out what was going on, his interest (and guilt) were too piqued to leave just yet.

 “At least for Dakota…”, he breathed deeply, and he began to glug down the Drink Me bottle.

 As he shrunk, an obvious question passed his mind: “May I at least wear my normal clothes for this? Dresses and I just don’t mix.”

 “I think it’s a lovely shade on you!”, Patrick complimented, and Penny nodded enthusiastically.

 “Well, I think that you’d taste marvelous in a stew, but you don’t see me forcing you in, do I?”, Cavendish threatened, causing Patrick and Penny to cower in fright.

 Cavendish’s soul guilt tripped him and he regretted the statement: Regardless of how baseless some of the charges were against him, these kids WERE trying to help him.

 And to be honest, he HAD sort of asked for it back at The Breakfast Burrito Place.

 Sighing, he offered an apology that wasn’t 100% sincere, but was close enough to make a passing grade. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long… Morning?”, he said, honestly not sure how much time had passed in the real world.

 “The sale on mineral water is most definitely off.”, Cavendish thought gloomily.

 Patrick and Penny accepted the apology, Cavendish found himself back in his regular clothes, and off they were through the door and into…

 “Great Scott! My old home back in Andford!”, Cavendish expressed in surprise as he stepped out of the door and into his past.

 Old sights and sounds and smells came flooding back, and for a moment, an odd nostalgia for a traumatic place swelled in Cavendish’s heart.

 He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the smell of morning dew and daisy flowers.

 “Well, I must admit, I am pleasantly surprised! It’s quite dandy being back here in Cavendish country!”, Cavendish proclaimed, and he raised an eyebrow at the rabbits near him.

 “I’m not sure why we’re here, Patrick and Penny, but I’m not complaining!”

 As he went forwards to pick a daisy to sniff it, admiring the freshly cut lawn in front of him, Cavendish’s eyes were suddenly caught by something all together more interesting…

 “I finished washing the car, Dad!”

 Cavendish’s eyes widened and for the first time in a while, a genuine smile rose on his lips: In front of him stood none other than himself, at the tender age of 10 years old, looking spiritely and bright as ever.

 The younger Cavendish had just finished washing Cavendish Sr.’s car, and he was now proudly showcasing it to the owner in question, sweat beads surrounding the hope filled eyes.

 Cavendish couldn’t help but chuckle warmly, failing to notice Patrick and Penny being replaced by Peter and Sarah, who displayed decidedly more concerned faces than the adult sandwiched next to them.

 Cavendish crouched down to their level, proudly showing himself off.

 “Would you look at that? 10 years old and washing cars! Sure, it’s for a colossal asshole, but you have to admit its impressive!”

 He then closed his eyes proudly, showing off his waistcoat.

 “And I think we’re all in agreement that my sense of style has always been “hip” and “with it”, as the cool kids say!”

 Peter and Sarah didn’t respond, but not for the reasons Cavendish thought.

 “Oh, what do you know? You’re rabbits with waistcoats, you wouldn’t know what trendy was if it multiplied with you fibonucci style!”, Cavendish complained, but they stayed silent.

 Getting a little wary now, Cavendish looked at the rabbits with a mixture of fear and alarm. “You’re not usually silent unless something bad is about to happen. What am I missing? What’s the terrible thing I did here?”

 Peter and Sarah didn’t answer.

 They didn’t need to.

 Cavendish soon saw the cause of their silence, soon to be the cause of his shock.

 “…No…”, he could barely breath, as his eyes bulged out and his heart beat like a marching drum.

 For now standing beside younger Cavendish, shyly staring at his shoes and looking like he had cried for more than just a night, was…

 “…Ollie…”

 The name hung in the air like an unspoken tragedy, and Cavendish felt tears run to his eyes immediately as he witnessed the one memory he had suppressed most of all.

 “No… No, please! Anything but this!”, he begged, pleading, kissing the rabbit’s feet.

“Show me the mirror again! Show me my deaths again! Show me Mr. Block belly dancing! Just not this!”

 But his prayers fell on deaf ears, and Cavendish could not look away as he witnessed his younger self just ignore Oliver.

 Stand with his back to him.

 Shun him…

 His only friend.

 The one person who truly understood him.

 Oliver was heartbroken, and he silently walked back, mustering just one look.

 “Please… Don’t go… I didn’t mean it… I… I just…”, Cavendish stammered, but even he knew that he had no real excuse, as Oliver turned to dust in front of his eyes and younger Cavendish grinned at a proud Cavendish Sr.

 Peter:

Where The Sun…

Sarah:

Has Never Shone…

 Water sprinklers lightly grazed Cavendish’s trousers, and dew smudged his glasses, but Cavendish had no time for such trivial matters, his mind far too focused on clenching his fists like no person had done before.

 Somehow, of all the memories and accusations so far, this was miles away the worst!

 Anger rose up in his chest like a kettle boiling, he couldn’t believe the sight before him.

 Bad enough that the boy… No, HE, Balthazar Cavendish, HE had done that to Oliver, but he was also getting encouragement from his father, that vile villain?

 “It couldn’t get worse”, Cavendish muttered through gritted teeth. “It couldn’t!”

 But of course, it did.

 “Excellent work, Balthazar! Finally, you showed that puff what for!”, Cavendish Sr. commended, and he returned to the house with a flourish.

 Younger Cavendish beamed, his heart swelling with pride. “Don’t worry, Father…”, he said out loud to himself. “I’ll be just like you, and then you’ll be even prouder!”

 That’s.

 It.

 That was the final straw.

 Cavendish wasn’t sure of much today, but he knew that he LOATHED, no DESPISED, no ABHORED his Father!

 And here he was, wishing to emulate him?!

 No.

 This he would not accept.

 Looking at Peter and Sarah with a look of utter denial, he spat out venom with every word.

 “HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF THIS? I… I AM NOTHING LIKE HIM! I… I COULD NEVER BE!”

 He couldn’t take this anymore.

 He couldn’t stand this nightmare no longer.

 Thunder crashed and rain poured down like a storm as he began to do the only thing that made sense: Run.

 His feet pounding down the old cracked road, Cavendish did not dare look back as he kept shouting above a thundering heart “I Couldn’t!”

 He rounded the corner.

 “I couldn’t!”

 He passed the park.

 “I wouldn’t!”

 He approached a large building, seeds of doubt sprouting as he saw Oliver pass by in his Father’s car.

 “I shouldn’t!”

 And as he entered the building, the revolving doors spun like a spinning top, spinning him into the building, which was no longer a building, but a forest clearing.

 “I haven’t!”, he continued to yell, desperately, heaving now as he huffed and puffed, hands on his knees.

 His eyes suddenly darted to see his younger self on the tree branch all those years ago.

 His ears stopped buzzing as he saw Oliver.

 His mouth stopped emitting sounds as he heard himself wish to be loved.

 And his heart stopped as he saw himself finally give love to someone else.

 Sid:

Like A Door…

Sydney:

That Keeps Revolving…

Tyan:

In A Half…

Tyler:

Forgotten Dream…

 Cavendish watched with stunned silence as he saw that once…

He was someone completely different.

 Sure, the flaws were still there…

 But here he was…

 Treating a Dakota like a Dakota should be treated.

 So…

 What happened?

 “I… I… I shouldn’t…”

 And then, just like that, a sound caught his attention, he turned his head to the left and, with a resounding crack…

 CRACK!

Cavendish Sr. Smacked him in the face again, removing a metaphysical tooth and sending Cavendish soaring through the sky.

 Clouds and trees zoomed past, and for a moment, Cavendish wondered if it would ever end, but then it did, as he began to approach a stream.

 Instead of drowning however, you know, like a normal person would…

 He began to skid on it like a…

 Vincent:

Or The Ripples…

Wally (Not Ours):

From A Pebble…

 Suddenly, the kids were replaced with two adult men: One in the shower, holding a bar of soap, the other clearly a product of the 1980’s which had never been recalled. Unfortunately.

 Barney:

Someone Tosses…

Bomber:

In A Stream…

 But Cavendish didn’t even have time to be confused by the sudden shift to adult singers since as he continued to  skid along the stream, he began to feel different.

 Scenes of his mistreatment of Dakota, of his rash decision making, of his egotistical nature ran rings around his head, and the spectre of his Father, actually approving of all this only made things worse.

 But it didn’t last, as Cavendish reached the end of the stream and collided with a lonely lamppost in the middle of nowhere.

 Rubbing the sore spot that now resided on the back of his head, and feeling exhausted all over his body, Cavendish hung his head low, noticing a puddle.

 On the one hand, he really didn’t want to look in, as he knew that what he would see would upset him greatly.

 But at the same time, a terrible truth was becoming more and more apparent, and Cavendish couldn’t run away from it no more.

 Sighing, he shivered and shook as he glanced down to see…

 His Father, looking right back at him.

 But Cavendish knew that this wasn’t his Father.

 It was…

 It was…

 “…I shouldn’t…”, he began, throat clenched, a pool of tears forming next to the puddle.

 “…But I have… Haven’t I?”

 And for a few moments, Cavendish sat there, crying softly and silently into the night, as he finally accepted some criticism.

 The denial was slipping away, as Cavendish thought of all the times he had mistreated Dakota, all the times he had treated him like trash…

 And how scarily reminiscent they were of his Father.

 First his Mother, now Dakota.

 Good people were always suffering thanks to the Male Cavendish’s.

 As his mind continued to waver, the realization that he had become the thing he hated most continuing to shatter his soul, Barney and Bomber walked in, dressed like White Rabbits.

 They sat down next to Cavendish, who held his knees close to his chest and hung his head low.

 “Balthazar…”, began Barney, sympathy present in his voice.

 “I… I don’t understand…”, Cavendish whispered, disbelief stretched across his face.

 Bomber squirmed in his seat. Barney twiddled his thumbs. Both men looked quite uncomfortable.

 “I… I don’t understand…”, Cavendish tried to force out, but instead he continued to sob.

 “Go on…”, Bomber encouraged, a hand now comforting Cavendish’s shoulder.

 Cavendish glanced at him, and Bomber sent him a sad smile.

 “We’re here for you, Cavendish. Tell us what ails you. Please.”

 Cavendish turned to Barney, who nodded curtly. “It’s the job description, Cavendish. We want to help you.”

 “You shouldn’t help me.”, Cavendish professed, darkness and sadness invading his speech. “You shouldn’t help me at all.”

 “Cavendish, look, I know what this feels like…”, Bomber started, but Cavendish interrupted.

 “No, you don’!”, Cavendish shouted, and the shouts echoed down the empty street.

 Cavendish took note of the smog and ash and stormy skies above, of the near grey roads and sights, of the cobbled path he sat on that was cracked beyond recognition.

 Cavendish sighed and looked downtrodden on the downtrodden street.

 “I… I hate him.”, Cavendish finally professed. “I really do.”

 Cavendish shivered and visibly shook as he related his backstory.

 “He beat me as a child, from a very early age. Tried to toughen me up. Said I wasn’t good enough.”

 Cavendish’s scars began to glow as he took a deep breath.

 “Said I wasn’t a man.”

 Barney offered Cavendish a hankerchif, and Cavendish gladly used it, throwing it into a suddenly there wastebasket which then disappeared as promptly as it appeared.

 Cavendish’s breath flowed in the wind, his weathered face, now half shapen like his fathers, but also half shapen like his own, appearing frank for the first time in years.

 “And now, I just want it to make sense.”

 Cavendish licked his cracked lips, feeling how dry his throat was.

 “…I need a drink.”

 Out of thin air, Bomber retrieved a warm cup of tea, 2 sugars, and just a little bit of mint.

 He handed it to Cavendish, who was pleasantly surprised by the soothing mug before him.

 “Oh… Thank you.”, he said genuinely, touched by the gesture.

 Cavendish took a liberal sip, feeling a little refreshed.

 “That’s better. That’s better. That hits the spot.”, Cavendish said, and he set the mug down for now.

 Letting out a now warm breath, Cavendish returned to his introspection.

 Blinking to refocus his sights on the stormy clouds, which painted an image of his Father belittling his Mother, Cavendish began to truly dig deep.

 “My Father treated my Mother terribly. Shouted at her, belittled her, disrespected her…”

 A tear trickled down as Cavendish felt his Mother’s gentle touch in his heart.

  “The poor soul.”

 Four new singers appeared, encouraging him to carry on.

 Ms. Camilichec:

Like A Clock…

Mr. Decker:

Whose Hands Are Sweeping…

Destiny Summers:

Past The Minutes…

Edwin Garner:

Of Its Face…

 Cavendish continued. “And… And I remember seeing that… And saying to myself (when I wasn’t being beaten for protesting)… That when I’m married… When I’m in love… I’d treat my love right.”

 He smiled for a moment, remembering the wish. “I’d love them… And I’d never make them feel beneath me.”

 But his words, as did the picture, began to reflect the truth.

 “But now that I think about it… All the things that you showed me… All the things I did… And I look at them honestly… If I am honest… With myself…”

 Cavendish’s heart began to crack as he saw himself shout and belittle Dakota.

 As he saw himself in his father…

 And his Father in himself…

 “I loathed him so much… And I loved myself so much…”

 A great and terrible truth made itself apparent in the windmills of his mind.

 “That I failed to see… That I had become him.”

 Cavendish began to weep quietly, his tears falling down silently, causing a tiny pool that began to sweep him away.

 Erik Jones:

And The World…

Eugene (Milo’s Doctor):

Is Like An Apple…

Frances:

Whirling Silently…

Mrs. Garner:

In Space…

 But Cavendish didn’t notice that, he was far too busy noticing himself for the first time.

 “How could I have been so blind?”, he asked no one in particular as he floated away, feeling less than real.

 Feeling like a spirit in his own body.

 Not in control…

 And desperate for relief.

 He thought of all that Dakota did: All the kisses and hugs, all the meals and laughs, all the quiet, kind moments that had passed by him like insignificant flies…

 All the times he wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him.

 And in return, he had treated him like a deasiese…

 When he himself was the problem.

 How could he claim to be a perfect hero when he so clearly was at fault?

 How could he be the hero…

 If he acted like a monster?

 Cavendish closed his eyes and sighed. “Something IS wrong…”

 He opened his eyes. “And it’s me…”

 Suddenly, the pool he was floating on turned into stars and he was back in space, but he didn’t care.

 He could float here until the end of time, it didn’t matter.

 Nothing did.

 And if anything did, he’d just ruin it.

 Mr. Hartoonian:

Like The Circles…

Mr. Menke:

That You Find…

Jebediah Murphy:

In The Windmills…

Joey Logano:

Of Your Mind…

 As Cavendish’s body floated in the inky sea of stars, like a boat with no sail, almost peaceful in his solemn sadness, a voice that sounded almost like his Mother sounded out from the depths and echoes, from the corners and the borders of space, all over and all encompassing.

 “…Cavendish?...”

 Cavendish said nothing.

 He didn’t want to even try to defend himself.

 “…Cavendish…”, the voice pressed again.

 Cavendish sighed. He wasn’t escaping this either, huh?

 “Yes, mysterious voice?”, he asked, a voice full of pain.

 “Cavendish… We have to continue…”

 “There’s more?”, Cavendish asked, incredulous.

 He didn’t need to see it nod, he knew it was true.

 He let out a dark, lonely chuckle. “Well… I guess I should have seen that coming.”

 “Cavendish… You took a serious step a minute ago… Many people never admit to their flaws…”

 “Many people don’t spend 35 years being the thing they hate most.”, Cavendish darkly retorted, and the voice laughed affectionately.

 “Balthazar, you’d be surprised.”

 “Today’s been full of them.”

 “And they’re not over yet.”

 Cavendish closed his eyes in pain, wishing for it to just be over already. “Do we have to? I feel bad as it is.”

 “Cavendish… You answered an important question today…”

 Cavendish continued to rock softly in space, his vision blurry as he felt tired.

 “But…”, the voice whispered, sympathetically. “It’s not over yet. You must answer another question.”

 Time seemed to slow down to a turtles pace as the voice asked the big one:

 “It’s time to answer the most important question…”

 She whispered softly, in an almost curious tone:

 “Who… Are you… Balthazar Cavendish?...”

 Suddenly, the stars scattered every which way, swaying like waves in the sea, before suddenly gathering into one spot, where they all fused into one shape.

 The form the stars were taking was getting larger and clearer by the moment, facial features and memories one would rather forget forging themselves into an avatar of Cavendish’s frozen self on the alien ship more than a year ago.

 “Are you the hero? The all conquering perfect colossus who can do no wrong?”

 Cavendish cringed at the description, and it got worse when he saw the next option: Cavendish sleeping alone on the apartment floor, shivering and shaking.

 “Are you the failure? The “man” destined to be alone because he drove everyone away?

  And it then got even worse: An image of Dakota and him at Chez Chaz when he shouted at him.

 “Are you… Your Father?”, a hint of sadness, of warning was now present in the voice.

 Cavendish gulped at that and his blood ran cold.

 Was he?

 Was it too late?

 …Did he have any hope?

 And finally, another image came up…

 Of a 10 year old boy smiling at his friend and being kind.

 “Or are you the 10 year old boy who only wanted to love and be loved in return?”

 Cavendish looked down, wondering if he could ever be that.

 If he ever was.

 “In short: What is your part… In this vast universe?”

 Her voice turned to a whisper.

 “Who… Are… You?”

 The options raced and argued inside his mind…

 Making their cases, stating their minds…

 Waging a storm in his heart…

 And Cavendish wished he could just choose one and be done with it…

 He wished he could be human…

 But he knew that he wasn’t.

 So once again…

 Cavendish felt lost in the grand scheme of things.

 Once again…

 Cavendish was alone.

 “I… I…”

 He sighed, resigned to his fate.

 “I don’t know.”

 Cavendish’s tears returned while the voice tried again.

 “Cavendish… You keep saying you don’t know…”

 A loving smile crept in her voice. “But I know… Deep down… That you are better than this.”

 Cavendish continued to float, but he did try to listen.

 “You CAN improve. You just need to take the next step and learn what else you’ve done wrong… And why.”

 Cavendish, however, wasn’t sure.

 “What good will it do? The damage is done. Dakota is hurt, and it’s all my fault.”

 “And if I told you there was a chance? If I told you that you could make sure Dakota is never hurt again?”

 Despite his vested self interest in protecting himself, Cavendish was almost hooked.

 But he still had to ask.

 “…Will it hurt?”, he asked, fear present in his tone.

 “…Yes.”, she whispered.

 “…But it will help Dakota?”, he asked, more urgently this time, needing to know if it was possible.

 “…Yes.”

 Cavendish took a deep breath.

 This was not going to be easy…

 But when was life ever easy?

 “If… If I really have been nothing but terrible for 35 years… And if someone like Dakota was hurt by me…”

 He took a deep breath. “Then I will continue… If it means I can undo it just a little. If I can help Dakota…”

 He choked down a sob.

 “If that’s the least I can do… Then I’ll at least do that.”

 He then spoke like a child, afraid of being punished. “I didn’t mean to do all this. I really didn’t.”

 “I know…”, the voice reassured. “But it’s time to make things right.”

 Cavendish’s voice turned small. “…I’m afraid.”

 “You won’t be alone.”, the voice comforted.

 Cavendish took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and made a decision in his heart.

 He then opened his eyes, determination emanating from them.

 “All right… Let’s finish this.”