#comes in handy during spooky season

[cupophrogs]

Just a misunderstanding!

“Do you like my costume? Sally made it for me! She says it makes me look “ghoulish”!”

@theknifeclown I swear they didn’t mean to scare her! They were just a little sleepy and forgot to take the contacts out!

Full Ghoul Poppet scribble under the cut :)

Silly jester :)

[gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield]

Help! I loved Nerdy Prudes Must Die and am curious about Nightmare Time but don't really have time to commit to watching it all... (a handy guide)

For those of you who don't know Nightmare Time was a series of Hatchetfield one shots that starkid wrote and recorded during lockdown, all of which are of course available for free on YouTube. They go a lot deeper into the lore than the 3 Hatchetfield musicals, including explaining and explore the characters we know and love in more detail, sometimes including shocking revelations.

They also introduce new characters to the Hatchetfield universe, including Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity and Pete Spankoffski, who we first met in a Nightmare Time episode.

As they were filmed in lockdown the recording quality is somewhat variable, but Season 2 has a much higher production value than Season 1, and in Season 1 Episode 1 in particular they were very clearly trying to find their feet with it. That being said the actual scripts and content of the episodes is solid throughout.

I've decided to put together this handy guide of which Nightmare Time episodes people might want to check out if they want to learn more about certain things we saw in NPMD.

1) Nibbly - Honey Queen (season 2 episode 1)

If you're curious to learn more about the Lords in Black each of them (bar Wiggly) have an episode of Nightmare Time devoted to them.

For Nibbly, Wiggly's hungriest and pinkest brother that episode is 'Honey Queen' in Season 2 Episode 1.

It explores a very entertaining rivalry between Linda Monroe (from Black Friday) and Zoey (the annoying barista from Beanie's in TGWDLM) that naturally turns very very dark. We also get to meet Linda's husband Gerald who she spends most of Black Friday on the phone to.

As a heads up Nibbly doesn't appear until, shall we say, the end of the episode (with Hatchetfield there's always a twist) and he's not in the super sexy form from NPMD but it's a very strong episode and does give a bit of background to Nibbly's deal.

2) Tinky - Time Bastard (season 1 episode 2 part 2)

If you're curious to learn more about this yellow motherfucker played by Curt then you're in luck because he's in my personal favourite episode and one with a lot of interesting lore surrounding it.

If you're curious about what he means when in NPMD he says 'I could add another Spankoffski to my set', Time Bastard is focused around Pete's brother Ted (from TGWDLM) and the dodgy dealings of CCRP.

It's an extremely clever episode, with lots of really fun twists. It's unfortunately season 1 so has slightly lower production quality, but in terms of raw scripting is just outstanding and has some really interesting reveals about people in the Hatchetfield universe who may not be who we think they are...

Also worth noting that this is in the same episode (Youtube video) as a different Nightmare Time episode 'Forever and Always'. Most episodes work like this where you have two different stories per episode, they absolutely can be watched independently but usually have some sort of thematic link (in this case it's the things we do for love and how they will inevitably be thwarted by CCRP being sketch).

3) Blinky - Watcher World (season 1 episode 1 part 2)

And if you're curious about the one who's always watching you, he's actually the first Lord in Black we meet through Nightmare Time, in the very first episode when Bill and Alice Woodward (TGWDLM) go on an ill fated trip to a spooky theme park.

Again this is from the first episode so production quality is low but it's a really solid episode and a very interesting look into these characters.

While this is our first meeting of a lord in black in Nightmare Time, I don't believe he's actually referred to as such, and the concept of the Lords in Blacks being introduced as Wiggly's brothers comes in at point 5 on this list.

4) Pokey - Yellow Jacket (season 2 episode 4)

You've already met Pokey through TGWDLM (yep that was his blue shit that destroyed the world!), but you won't truly realise how fucking scary he is until you meet his incarnation 'Otho' in Yellow Jacket.

A solid episode exploring Lex, Hannah and Ethan in a lot more detail, and in a world and lives where (at least at the start of the episode) things seem to be a lot more stable for them than in Black Friday.

And yeh as I've already mentioned Pokey is fucking s c a r y in it. Also you remember James Tolbert's character, Charles that gets a little cameo in Hatchetown? Well he's the main human antagonist of this episode!

We also learn a lot of lore about 'the gift', the thing that makes Hannah able to do magic.

5) The concept of the Lords in Black generally - The Witch in the Web (season 2 episode 3 part 2)

If you're curious about why everyone's been posting pictures of those evil teddy bears and now even more confused that you've met them all as fucked up high school students, the Witch in the Web is the episode where we're first introduced to the 'they don't care bears' as a set.

This is a really cool episode, again about Lex and Hannah, but it also exploring Uncle Wiley (from Black Friday) in a lot more detail.

We also first meet two characters called Duke and Miss Holloway who together form the ship Holloduke that if you were following any of Starkid tumblr during lockdown you will definitely have heard of. They're really cool!

Here we also meet Webby, Hannah's imaginary friend in Black Friday, who turns out to be the lord in black's sister: a queen in white. And she's dope.

6) Pete Spankoffski, Stephanie Lauter and Grace Chasity - Abstinence Camp (season 2 episode 2 part 2)

We first meet the now beloved characters of Pete and Steph and the slightly less beloved character of Grace in an evangelical abstinence only camp. The episode centers entirely around these characters and plays excellently with tropes of the horror genre.

It also has the best song in all of Nightmare Time and it's up to you to decide if I'm talking about 'oh my god it's the axe-man' or 'virginity rocks' (it's both, the answer is both).

That's pretty much it in terms of Nightmare Time episodes that cover things from NPMD, but in case you're curious here's a quick run down of what the rest are about:

The Hatchetfield Ape Man - season 1 episode 1 part 1. Hidgens makes Ted pretend to be a Tarzan style half monkey, half man thing to con Angela Giarratanna out of her inheretence.

Watcher World - season 1 episode 1 part 2. See bullet 3 above. Alice and Bill Woodward go to a theme park and shit hits the fan.

Forever and Always - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Paul and Emma get married. Things are not as they seem (there are robots). One of my personal favourites.

Time Bastard - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 2 above. Ted fucks with time travel and things end very badly for him. Best episode imo.

Jane's a Car - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Turns out the soul of Tom Houston's ex-wife Jane, who died in a car crash, transferred into the car. This somewhat complicates his budding relationship with Becky Barnes.

The Witch in the Web - season 2 episode 3 part 2. See bullet 5 above. Hannah Foster's having nightmares and somehow a witch and Uncle Wiley are involved. Luckily a good witch (Miss Holloway) is there to try and help.

Honey Queen - season 2 episode 1. See bullet 1 above. Linda Monroe and Zoey Chambers compete to win the Hatchetfield honey queen beauty pageant and things spiral wildly out of control. My personal favourite episode from season 2.

Perky's Buds - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Emma's finally achieved her dream of owning her own pot farm. Just her, her non-binary farm hand Ziggs and some very evil birds.

Abstinence Camp - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 6 above. Pete, Steph and Grace go to a retreat in the very creepy woods to learn one way or another about the perils of pre-marital sex.

Daddy - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Remember Sherman Young (Jamie's weird creepy guy from Black Friday)? Turns out there's something very weird going on with his mum. We also learn a lot about Frank Pricely (owner of toyzone from Black Friday) in this episode, who turns out to be a very interesting character.

Killer Track - season 2 episode 3 part 2. Miss Holloway must take extreme action to save a young girl and then the whole world against an evil song that kills anyone who listens to it. We learn a lot more about Holloway as a character and she is soooo cool. Another favourite episode of mine.

Yellow Jacket - season 2 episode 4. See bullet point 4. Hannah seeing her sister struggling to provide for them financially decides to find a way of using her power to earn some spare cash.

Hey Melissa - episode aired only on a livestream, type it into youtube and it'll come up. If you've ever found yourself asking 'what if Mariah's secretary character from the start of TGWDLM was really into dom pup play and Paul Matthews was her little pup bitch and she was also a horrific out of control serial killer?' then a) are you Matt Lang because if not I'm concerned? and b) by god this is the episode for you!. I personally really enjoy it I think it's super funny, but obviously heavy trigger warnings for abuse and sexual content warnings (there's a reason they didn't put this in the real series). Fucking excellent tho.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Can you do a Jax x six armed reader?

Imagine reader uses their extra arms to climb up walls and scare the living shit out of everyone

Jax x six armed!reader !

ooo i love this idea, i wish there were more characters/ocs in general who had a bunch of arms, its such a cool look

so before i have the chance to forget this idea: he would have you carry stuff for him, be it things hes going to use to mess with people or general stuff he wants to be moved

oooo imagine carrying him while you climb around on the walls, waiting for the perfect moment to drop and scare someone

it IS spooky season, after all.. jax seems like the type to try to do scare-pranks with people during the halloween season

similar to the cheshire cat reader, you two pair up together in order to cause havoc. the only difference is that here jax is the one being the distraction while you sneak on by to plant the means to cause some trouble; typically you crawl along the walls out of sight

which gives me an oc idea; a bug reader, either insect or spider, i can see it either way.. actually im getting a lot of oc ideas for TADC, maybe ill draw some of them (likely not)

anyways, outside of that i dont think much else changes

he loves causing trouble with you, he loves how you come in..... handy

ahah get it

ill see myself out

do not play hide and seek with the person who can crawl on the walls and ceiling, things will happen

[gojos-thot-patrol]

And our first one yet, no less ;) (Oh, and btw, this is the tag list!! Reply to this post if you want to be tagged as these come out.)

Good Evening, my Dearest Reader! I hope this announcement finds you well. You may have noticed my excitement for the spooky season getting the better of me, what with the Vampire! Gojo and True Form! Sukuna works being posted an entire month ahead of schedule. Alas, what can I say? I'm in a love affair with all things spooky.

So of course I simply have to participate in Kinktober this year. As it's my first, we'll be starting small. Four one shots being posted every week of October, starting on the first, and ending on the twenty second, with a special bonus being posted on Halloween, just for you Darling!

But of course, that begs the question; Just what exactly will be on the menu? I'm so glad you asked.

WEEK ONE: INTOXICATING

Synopsis: Suguru has loved you since he met you. Or maybe lust is a better word. Either way, it never really mattered. You were a good girl who would never give a dirty fuck boy like him a chance. You were smarter than that. Even now, as you sit on his lap learning how to smoke for the first time, you'd never give him a chance. Right? Kinks: Pussy Drunk, Corruption, and Intoxication

WEEK TWO: FERAL NIGHTS

Synopsis: Ryomen always got what he wanted, it was a simple rule of life. And ever since he caught your scent, you were all that he wanted- your previous bond mark be damned. And you must have wanted him too. Why else would you keep your window open during your heat? Kinks: Omegaverse, Breeding, Marking, Dub-Con, and Infidelity

WEEK THREE: WHAT'S YOURS IS MINE

Synopsis: Satoru wasn't dumb. He saw the way you looked at his best friend. He picked up on the way you were always sure to laugh at his jokes, heard the name "Suguru" catch in your throat when it should have been "Satoru." And he saw the way Suguru coveted you, not even bothering to hide it. But, that was fine. Because Satoru thought of it too. Kinks: Cuckholding, Cum Play, Double Penetration, and Dumbification

WEEK FOUR: PATIENCE

Synopsis: Nanami was always calm and composed, never losing his cool. It was a gift that became particularly handy when you were writhing on his cock, begging him to move, please. And he wanted too- God knows he wanted too. But you looks irresistible when you were this desperate, and he wanted to savor every second of it. Kinks: Cock Warming, Daddy, Degradation, Praise, and Edging

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL: THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT (but I also kinda wanted to)

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a fun little joke, a gag you and your friends indulged at your annual Halloween Party. Of course it wasn't going to work, no way a "ritual" you found on WikiHow of all places was really going to summon an Incubus. But, if that was the case, then who was the almost angelic looking man standing in your room? Kinks: Spectrophilia, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Mirror Sex, and Dacryphilia

The tag for this will be Trick-or-Kink 23. Hope to see you there ;)

[boxofbonesfic]

🎃Happy October everyone! 🎃 I am so pleased to be participating in Kinktober this year! Of course I had to put my own spin on it, so without further ado, let me tell you what you have to look forward to this smutty, spooky season! 

Every week during the month of October, I will release three kinktober themed ficlets, no more than 2k words each! I have already created a handy little guide for what (and who) to expect this year! It’s a healthy mix of all the things I love, a little horror, a little dark, a little soft!dark—all the things I’m sure you guys have come to expect from me. Right now, all of the options are crossed out because they aren’t posted yet! As I post them, I will add links to this masterlist, and un-cross the list items as I go! Please remember to mind the warnings and tags, and please, enjoy yourselves! 

𝒮𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹𝓊𝓁𝑒:

Week 1: 

Reflection (Ari Levinson x Reader)

Cut (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Exhibit (Lloyd Hansen x Reader)

Week 2:

Bound (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Size (Thor Odinson x Reader)

Edge (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Week 3:

Alpha (Lloyd Hansen x Reader)

Aftercare (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Switched (Andy Barber x Reader, Dennis Baker x Reader)

Week 4:

Taste (Steve Kemp x Reader)

Praise: (Lee Bodecker x Reader)

Beg (Curtis Everett x Reader)

[fox-guardian]

Please tell me what the Stoker swap au is. I need this, badly.

- Regards, Someone who is sad about Tim because they just season 3

There's a good few posts about it in my "stoker swap au" tag for your reading pleasure, but the good news is BOTH STOKERS ARE ALIVE HERE, that's very important

Basically danny survives his would-be strangering, and goes on to get a job (he is not qualified for) at the institute, taking Tim's role. Meanwhile tim is lacking clown trauma since he didn't follow danny, and instead he's just stressed over the fact that his brother lied to work at an academic institution that is also getting increasingly unsafe.

Danny befriends martin when he starts at the institute in research, then he meets jon and Sasha (he assumes jon is much older at first and is like "omg work dad lol" when they're The Same Age and jon doesn't correct him for a while) (Sasha just wants to study him) so when they eventually move to the archives everything Hits A Bit Different

Jon is easier on martin because he has Danny to vouch for him, danny starts questioning shit real fast, and his many weird interests keep coming in handy during spooky occurrences. In other words, it's a fix-it fic.

Also since tim is still here as well and yknow, still has a brother to protect, he has some Very Strong Feelings about management at the magnus institute, to say the least. Especially when bad things start happening. Because while this is a fix-it, bad things will still be happening <3

[shaneshoodie]

Some Shane headcanons that I have to share in no particular order

He’s 5'6

He’s 32, looks a lot older sometimes, but also acts a lot younger

Mostly goes by He/him pronouns but sometimes fucks around with They and It pronouns depending on the day and his mood

For sure bisexual

Part Irish on his moms side, doesn't have much of an accent but it really comes out when he yells or gets angry

When he cuts back on drinking and goes for soda's and sparkling water, he gets picky about his preferences. Other then the Joja Cola's, he likes Dr. Pepper and Diet coke the most

Love language is physical touch but still hates PDA between him and his partner unless he's having a really shit day

Likes being the big spoon if possible

Despite his love of taking naps, he's got terrible insomnia

Joth in Highschool (Jock Goth)

Emily has been his best, and one of his only friends since high school and knows too much dirt on him

Not much of a dancer, but has a pretty good singing voice

Does not know how to drive

Scares very easy, especially with spooky stuff and puts up the "I dont believe in anything that can't be backed by science" as a façade to avoid questions

Likes comedies and action movies

When he's a really hard day, he'll hang out with Charlie in his coop and accidentally take a nap on the floor

Anger issues, it was worse when he drank a lot though. He for sure got into bar fights that were like 60% his fault

He’s a terrible liar and if put in a situation where he has to lie to someone he cares about, he’ll just hide in his hood to avoid it

When he falls in love, he falls hard. Even during the crush phase he’s incredibly whipped and will cancel plans and randomly leave conversations if the person he likes needs his help with something

Gets really bad seasonal depression, and because of it he hates winter

He’s not a morning person

Once Jas called him dad on accident and he had to go into a different room to cry for a bit

Very handy around the house, he likes fixing things and actually doing stuff with his hands. what he fixes may not be perfect but it still works after words

Knows how to cook, just prefers not to because microwaved food is faster

Swears like a sailor, and has given up on censoring in front of Jas because he just can’t censor himself.

However they have a deal that she can’t repeat any of those words or tell Marnie that she knows them till she’s older

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Kid Philip and Kid Caleb go inside a hot topic?

Rot Topic

"Stay close, Philip," Caleb would instruct his "brother" as "they" walked along the sidewalk in present day Gravesfield.

The small blonde still didn't know how he and his little brother ended up there or why everything appeared so strange, but during their walk, they encountered a piece of green currency that had a funny looking man on the front and a '100' labeled on each of its corners lying idly on the ground.

Picking the money up, Caleb decided to slip it into his back trouser pocket.

It may come in handy later.

"We have to find a way back home. Mother and Father are likely feeling a great deal of worry due to our absence."

Caleb glanced down after saying that, but Philip was not there.

Upon stopping, the blonde's eyes widened and he frantically turned his head side to side in the hope of spotting his brother nearby.

Fortunately, when he turned around, he found Philip standing in the middle of the pavement, staring at something with starry eyes, his mouth agape.

Caleb exhaled a sigh of relief and went up to him.

"What are you looking at, Pip?"

The elder asked him, to which Pip directs his pointer finger at said thing, stars still present in his eyes.

"Loook..." The younger responds with astonishment.

As Caleb looks ahead, he sees a large white building with people wearing costumes entering it.

"Gravesfield Shopping Mall?" Caleb read the sign on the building to himself as he looked at Philip. "What's a... shopping mall?"

"I don't know!" Philip beamed excitedly before running towards the large building. "But I want to find out!"

"Philip, wait!" Caleb called out, running behind his brother.

...

Upon entering, the boys were captivated by the new setting they were now in.

The mall's interior was huge.

No, MASSIVE.

There were numerous shops and stores in every direction.

Crowds of people wearing costumes were bustling above and below the floors while spooky music was blaring over the speakers.

It was the peak of the Halloween season.

The boys' 1600's outfits made them blend in perfectly.

"Wow, I've never seen a place like this before. Where should we go first, Pip?"

"Ooo, ooo, Caleb, Caleb! I want to go up there!" Pip pointed upwards to the second floor.

Caleb gazed up. "I would like that too, but how can we get up there?"

How did those people get up there?

"Oh, Caleb," Philip grinned, tugging at his brother's shirt while directing his finger at a set of stairs that appeared to be moving by themselves.

"Look!" Caleb did exactly that.

Two mall visitors stepped on the electrical staircase and were immediately transported to the second floor.

The small blonde smiled. "Good eye, Pip!"

He gave his little brother a small pat on the head as they proceeded to the stairs.

...

"We're here! Where should we go next?" Caleb asked Philip.

"Hmm..." Blue eyes began to examine the various stores in the vicinity.

The one close by caught Philip's attention the most.

"How about that one?" The store Philip was pointing to was colored black and had the words "ROT TOPIC" displayed in red neon letters.

Philip smiled innocently at his brother. "I want to go there!"

"But Caleb!" Philip protested with a whine, "I want to go there! It looks like a lot of fun!"

The store in question caught Caleb's eye and caused him to appear hesitant. "I don't know, Pip, that store looks..." He gulps.

"Spooky." Caleb shivers.

"But Philip--"

"Pleaaase?" He pleaded.

"Philip--"

The younger presents his largest set of puppy dog eyes.

Caleb sighs, giving in. "Okay, fine. But if things gets too spooky, we're leaving. "

"Yay, adventure!" Philip giddily skips in.

Caleb remains jittery about entering the store, staring at the frightening sign, but despite his fear, he takes a deep breath and follows Pip inside.

Being the oldest, he was required to remain courageous and guard Philip against any evil spirits that may attempt to attack them while they were in the store.

[angelsarewatching]

Day 10 of Flufftober and Whumptober. Our own very challenge for October, which is incorporating Fluff and Whump prompts together in a bizarre fanfic. It’s spooky season, gays! Here is Mirasol “Soleil” Corazón and Simon “Ghost” Corazón being the lovely married couple like they are.

nightmares & love language

Ah yes, the newly wedded couple, the Corazońes. Tommy had been crying the entire duration of the wedding, and the happy couple had gotten married off in a stunning beach in Puerto Rico, and they did plenty of snorkeling and free diving with a few of their close friends and Mirasol’s eccentric relatives. The wedding was small but was extraordinarily beautiful, with the wedding aisle flooded with hydrangeas, orchids and marigolds. What really set it off was the large, mammoth sized sunflowers spread all around, alongside the captivating, bold floral centerpieces donned with beeswax candles upon the linen-draped tables. As Mirasol went down the aisle hand in hand with his mother, Isabella Corazón, Simon was at the end with his best man, his brother Benjamin, because Tommy was crying the entire procession and couldn’t do it. During the exchange of vows, Simon spectacularly outshone Mirasol with his own being the most heart wrenching Sylvia Plath-esque poems ever, which successfully brought both their families and friends to tears.

Then, there was the five feet tall carrot cake with buttercream flowers all around handmade by Sylvia Weinstock, and there were cheesecakes handed out to guests at the end of the heartwarming ceremony, (which Tia Christina immediately devoured in the car) fitted inside a box with a shiny red ribbon.

Their honeymoon was spent with passionate lovemaking, namely cyber bullying right wing politicians online, interacting with their moots on social media why they went IA for a day, screaming because they got an email that their favorite AO3 fanfic just updated, and sex.

Beautiful October, the start of Autumn. The crisp, auburn and honey gold leaves floating along the breeze, warm knitted sweaters, fluffy red foxes skittering about, and mugs of hot chocolate. It was Simon’s favorite season, because it was the only season when he could wear t-shirts outside with questionable prints on them without being given odd looks. It was also the time when his husband, Soleil, would have to internally prepare himself for the overload of deliveries in their front door with parcels full of Halloween-themed commodities.

(Not that he was complaining.)

October, like always, was chock-full of tasks, and his husband had a handy bullet journal with everything planned beforehand. Mirasol suspected that October was the month that Simon looked forward to the most. (No surprise there.) It was perhaps, the only thing that kept the other moving forward in life, all to see another year where he could admire the skeleton decor sprawled on their neighbor’s lawn. The list of things they absolutely had to do consisted of visiting a corn maze, play horror games on the big screen TV, exchange scary stories, bake spooky cookies and other baked delights, apple bobbing, make a jack-o-lantern, visit the haunted house attractions, summon a demon, scary movie marathon, house decorating, and murder.

After a staggering eight month deployment, Mirasol and Simon could finally relax, under the bright blue skies of October, the woody smoke of expensive Padrón cigars melting into Simon’s teeth. Mirasol snuggled closer to Simon, who was underneath him, as they relaxed in each other’s embrace, their trusty hammock never failing them. The complexity of developing strategies for missions, the stress of the world being put on your shoulders, all those worries finally seemed to grow timid and quiet, for a while. While Simon didn’t have a home to come back to in England, he found a home with welcoming solace in Mirasol’s arms.

Mirasol felt his eyelids grow tired, so he let them flutter shut. After a few moments, Simon quirked an eyebrow to see if his husband was asleep. (He was.) Chuckling lightly, he tucked a stray strand of red hair behind Mira’s cheek, and kissed his forehead before continuing to rock the hammock back and forth again. Simon gazed at Mirasol, how his beloved would sleep so soundly and peacefully--whilst he was cursed with horrors that never seemed to loosen their grasp upon his shoulder.

Nightmares plagued Simon incessantly, and though he tried his best to make it as if everything was fine, Mirasol saw through the broken cracks of his poignant facade, the furrowed eyebrows, the wrinkled seams trying to hold himself together. Mirasol didn’t know half of what haunted his lover, and it pained him to see the other one holding back tears almost every night. As Mirasol woke up from dreams of pure bliss, in the corner of his eye, he would see Simon, clutching at the bedsheets, sweat dripping down his forehead, face crumpled in never-ending agony. The relentless, rocky waves of despair and hopelessness always seemed to swamp Simon, and Mirasol dreaded the fate looming closer: that one day, Simon won’t be able to take it anymore.

A distant memory, thin and frail like incense smoke, but familiar all the same, approaches closer. He looks up, and sees a boy, fresh faced with pink cheeks, wonderful hazel-gold eyes that frame his delicate features into a much gentler, lighter tone. His skin is pale like buttercream, his lips soft and sugary. His hands are uncertain--he reaches out to cup your face, but hesitates.

A harsher, more vivid memory surges deep from the bellows of his mind, blonde hair, like flaxseed; coarse and greasy. A calloused hand reaches out from the shadows and pulls harshly at it. Unfeeling, the blonde haired man smiles, wicked and cruel, flashing sharpened canines. His voice is grating to hear, and his laugh was deafening. Behind him, is the boy from before, lying crumpled on the ground like a broken doll.

Mirasol hears the shadow speak before the blonde haired man has the final laugh.

(pt. 2 will be up soon.)

[bizmagicsworld]

Top Picks from Target's Dollar Spot

Top Picks from Target's Dollar Spot

Target's Dollar Spot is a treasure trove for savvy shoppers. It's full of items priced at just $1 to $5. This section is popular for finding great deals on a variety of products. Shoppers can expect to find everything from cute home decor to handy office supplies. Let’s dive into some of the best finds that can turn your shopping trip into a win.

First, there are fantastic seasonal decorations. For holidays like Halloween or Christmas, Target’s Dollar Spot offers items like small wreaths, festive table runners, and themed candles. For instance, during Halloween, you might find spooky banners and pumpkin-shaped bowls. These items add fun and flair to your celebrations without breaking the bank. You can also score adorable gift wrap and tags that make presents look extra special.

Next, check out the selection of practical home goods. You can find items like mini storage bins, kitchen gadgets, and cleaning supplies. Many shoppers rave about the small planters and succulents available here. They make great gifts or charming additions to any room. For example, a small planter with a cute design can brighten up a desk or a windowsill. These budget-friendly finds often offer a mix of style and function that enhances your home life.

Finally, Target’s Dollar Spot has unique office supplies. From colorful notebooks to quirky pens, these items can make working or studying more enjoyable. Many people enjoy the selection of planners and sticky notes. They come in fun patterns and vibrant colors that can help you stay organized. A well-designed planner from this spot might just inspire you to keep track of your goals and tasks more effectively.

Shopping at Target’s Dollar Spot is a great way to get quality items for less. Keep an eye on this section during your next visit to see what new finds you can discover. Whether you're looking for decor, practical goods, or office supplies, there’s likely something to catch your eye. Happy shopping!

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[bittenwritten]

Could you do little headcannons for Bane or Scarecrow with a s/o who loves the Halloween season and likes to do things like get the Halloween decorations out early or go out and shop for spooky things? It’s almost September and I’m already thinking about Halloween :>

Bane with a s/o who’s really excited for Halloween:

Although he thinks it’s a bit early to be celebrating, it makes you happy so he has no problem helping you out.

He really enjoys Halloween, especially now that he’s got you to celebrate with.

Need some help reaching a high up place? No problem! He'll lift you up while you add the decorations.

Loves helping you out with the Halloween shopping, he likes looking at all the decorations. 

His favourite thing to do during the Halloween season is going on walks in the park and admiring the scenery.

Scarecrow with a s/o who’s really excited for Halloween:

He’s just as excited as you are! He already looked forward to it each year but ever since you’ve started dating that was amped up x10.

Helps you decorate the house, his height definitely comes in handy when it comes to hard to reach spots.

When it comes to buying candy, Jonathan is the type to buy the full sized candy bars.

If he had to pick a favourite Halloween-related activity, it’d have to be pumpkin carving.

He’s happy to finally have someone as enthusiastic about Halloween as he is.

[tsarbomba567]

Got a spooky Ninjago au idea.

So basically, before the First Serpentine War, the Serpentine practiced magic. Of these magicians, there was Anacondrai whom was powerful wizard. While this fact was known by most of the Serpentine, he was harbouring a secret: He was also a necromancer. He kept this knowledge only to himself, since he knew that necromancers - both human and Serpentine - have been either exiled or executed for performing this dark magic. However, he was willing to take the risk, since he believed that it would one day come in handy. Fortunately for him, that day would arrive.

After the Serpentine defeat at the hands of the Elemental Alliance, the wizard slipped away from the human's grasp and joined his tribesmen in the the Anacondrai Tomb. Once they were sealed in, he secretly cast a spell on himself, where if he was to die, he would be reanimated; the spell, though, would only go into effect five minutes after the tomb has been opened. Unfortunately for him and the rest of the Anacondrai, they began to cannibalize each other, until Pythor was the last snake standing. Decades later, Lloyd opens the Tomb and is greeted by Pythor. As the two about to leave, Pythor sudden gets chills and looks back into the Tomb; Pythor then dismisses it, thinking he thought he saw something, before exiting the tomb along with Lloyd.

Five minutes after the Tomb was opened, the spell goes into effect. The wizard's skeleton is put back together, before his eyes light up. The wizard sees his reanimated body and is at first horrified. He proceeds to calm down, as it's possible that the Anacondrai were so hungry that they picked all the meat off of their brethren's bones. Getting up, he then uses the same spell on the rest of the skeletons in the tomb. He watches as their skeletons are put back together, before their souls are put back in their respective bodies, reanimating them. The reawakened Anacondrai are horrified at what has become of their bodies; for them, they were peacefully in the afterlife, before an invisible force grabbed them and dragged them out, sending them back to the mortal realm. (These reanimated souls are lucky that the wizard gave them back their free will, as he is not one for controlling mindless zombies.)

After calming his Serpentine tribesmen, he takes command, imploring them that they need to leave immediately before they are found out and are put underground for good. Listening, his fellow undead tribesmen agree, and they all clandestinely leave the tomb, going into the Ninjagian wilderness to get as far away from civilisation as possible. For Pythor and Lloyd, they return to the tomb with their stolen goods (candy), only to see it entirely empty. A now paranoid Pythor suggests that they find somewhere else to enjoy their sweets in peace. A scared Lloyd agrees, not wanting to linger here any longer.

As night falls, the wizard and the undead Anacondrai settle down and build camp in a heavily forested region. A fellow tribesman ask the wizard as what they should do next, he replies that he wants to go to sites of battle from the First Serpentine War and reanimated the bodies of the fallen Serpentine, now buried underneath decades of dirt. He notes, however, that they need to be careful, as both human and Serpentine will be terrified if they're seen, and will probably destroy them on site. Therefore, they can only do these small expeditions at the dead of night. As for those who do spot them, they must be silenced through intimidation. As for recon, some undead Anacondrai are given the task of stalking the living Serpentine and humans and report back on their actions, though for some of these living beings, they start to develop paranoia over the belief that they're being watched (which is true).

Over the events of seasons 1-3, the undead Serpentine - in the dead of night - secretly go around Ninjago to reanimate Serpentine who were killed in battle during the First Serpentine War. The undead Serpentine's numbers slowly rise over the days. By the time of the start of season 4, their numbers are in the tens - possibly hundreds - of thousands, to the point where they had to expand outwards and make several more forested settlements, and the undead now include Serpentine from all tribes. There are now calls from within this little undead hermit kingdom to avenge the Serpentine defeat during the First Serpentine War and march on Ninjago City. However, the wizard refuses, saying that they've worked so hard to get to this point, and knows that they'll be destroyed should the invasion goes through. Furthermore, he vows to not listen to the demands of these militarists, as they were the one that led to the Serpentine suffer a civil war that was only ended by their defeat at the hand of the Elemental Alliance.

As the undead Serpentine expanded and modernized, there was an increase in "unwelcome visitors." After some thought though, he realizes that they could be useful. You see, an undead Anacondrai can only go so far until their caught, as they'll be extremely out of place; whereas a regular living human or Serpentine would be completely normal. So he uses this to his advantage and makes some of these unwelcome quests informants for him. This eventually becomes in very handy when they unknowingly make one of Chen's cultists an informant. This cultist informant then indulges the undead Serpentine with Chen's plan, as well as telling them how Chen manipulated both the Elemental Alliance and the Serpentine during the First Serpentine War. This rightly enrages the undead Serpentine, whom now see that the Elemental Alliance was also manipulated alongside them into killing each other; furthermore, they now want Chen and Clouse's heads on pikes, as well as wanting to slaughter the cultists. So when the Second Serpentine War commences, the wizard and his undead followers are already ready for battle.

They proceed to march out of their villages and go to meet the pretender Anacondrai in battle. Among the Ninjagian populous, there are rumors of an army of Serpentine skeletons marching across Ninjago, but the Elemental Alliance dismisses them, as they view it as both fear mongering and a distraction for the coming battles. The undead army proceeds to butcher any cultist stragglers who dare cross them. By the time the Battle of the Corridor of Elders has commenced, the wizard and his army were on Chen's tail. The rear ranks of the cultist lines, seeing the undead army, flee in terror as the undead army attacks from behind. It's probably time to mention that the cultist the undead "recruited" as their informant was forced to join the cult against his will. This is evident by the fact that after a rear-flank cultist tells Chen and Clouse of the undead Serpentine army slaughtering them from behind, our cultist decides to stab Clouse in the back with his knife, severing Clouse's spine and paralyzing him from the waist down; he proceeds to join the Elemental Alliance's ranks, as well as those cultists fleeing from the wizard's army.

After Garmadon sacrifices himself to release the Anacondrai generals from the Cursed Realm, the Arcturus and his fellow generals proceeded to cast Chen, Clouse, and the majority of the cultists into the Cursed Realm. As for those cultists whom either fled in terror or joined the Elemental Alliance, they were turned back human, on account of turning their backs on the manipulative traitor. After returning Pythor back to normal size, the Anacondrai generals and the Elemental Alliance turned their combined attention towards the wizard and the undead Serpentine. For one, they were do busy fighting the cultists that they didn't notice the undead horde, and now they are seeing them for the first time. The Anacondrai generals tell the wizard and the undead Serpentine that while they could cast the cultists into the Cursed Realm, they're not so sure about their ability to bring them back in the flesh and blood. Just when they were about to go free, the Anacondrai wizard offered Arcturus and his generals an offer: They can join him and help him with finding a way to bring them back in the flesh. Arcturus and the Anacondrai generals contemplate the offer, and after some time, they accept.

The undead Serpentine then leave to go back to their forested settlements along with the wizard and Anacondrai generals. From here, they begin the hunt for the means of becoming truly alive again.

[lions-arch-chronicle]

Issue 14! Special thank you to everyone who came to our impromptu meet up for a photo!

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Title: EXCLUSIVE! Interview with the Mad King Thorn

Story: Courica: First of all I’d like to thank you for taking the time out of your very busy fall schedule to speak with us King Thorn.

King Thorn: Well of course, what better way to let all of my wonderful subjects know that their beloved king has returned than an utterly exclusive interview.

Courica: Now, I don’t know that you’ve heard but in your year of absence you have gained a new form of popularity thanks to a certain well known author.

King Thorn: Oh really? Do tell.

Courica: You and your romantic past have become the subject of a new novel by the critically acclaimed and critically panned author Snargle Goldclaw.

King Thorn: Romance? Hardly interesting wouldn’t you think? A history on my glorious and permanent reign would have been more fitting? (laughs)

Courica: We have a copy on hand here if you’d like to take a look?

King Thorn: Ohhh don’t BIND if I do. Get it? Bind? Laugh or this interview is over and I’ll feed you to the spiders.

Courica: (extremely nervous laughter)

King Thorn: “The viscount purred.” He Purred? That bastard has never informed me that he’s capable of purring... Rotten corn cob has been holding out on me.

Courica: Wait are you confirming there are accuracies within this story and that it’s not entirely fictional? 

King Thorn: Aw now where’s the fun in spoiling the end of the story, now if you excuse me I believe it’s about time to acquire a new charr rug.

Title:  Kuritata’s fashion reviews: SCARY SHINY?!

Story: Oh oh oh, it’s time for the friends to wear the spooky outfits! This one comes with shinies! The shiny gloves look like they should be hot and would burn skritt if she touched them. Do they hurt? Is the shiny worth the ouchies from the gloves? Very grabby grabby looking  must come in handy for grabing onto shinies. Friend also has big scarf! Skritt is proud that friend is wearing weather appropriate clothing since it’s getting cold out. Very functional and it has spooky colors too! You look like a very soft and friendly looking pumpkin to  skritt. Speaking of pumpkin friend has pumpkin face! Sharp teeth and shiny glowy eyes! Skritt thinks that she could look into your shiny eyes for days . Skritt would also like to request, to borrow, your weapon, forever. It is very shiny and would be good to hold and appreciate for its shinyness. Overall a very soft looking shiny spooky holiday friend 13/10 but only if skritt can keep your sword.

Want to have your outfit reviewed?Submit your fashion photos to us! https://lions-arch-chronicle.tumblr.com/submit

Title: You have all this candy corn now what?

Story: We were originally going to provide our beloved readers with some various recipes and helpful guides on what to do with the excess amounts of candy corn obtained over the holiday season but in our research, we realized that candy corn can barely be considered food and advising any sort of consumption of it or the use of it as an ingredient would not be in the best interests of our readers. Rather we have decided to recommend a simple yet effective solution to all excess candy corn.

1. Prepare a double boiler pot of your choice and bring the water inside up to boiling temperatures.

2. Insert leftover candy corn and let it melt until it becomes soft and malleable.

3. Remove the candy corn from the heat and begin to shape into your weapon of choice.

4. Let cool and enjoy your free candy corn-based weapon.

Title: The Boasting Hall: Quaggan wants to make a new afterlife for quaggan.

Story: Coo Quaggan has something to ask of the people of Lion’s Arch. Quaggan thinks that he should be given another chance for a good afterlife. Now, foo on quaggan’s previous mistakes from his lifetime. Quaggan only needs a few more pieces of candy corn to start a good life. Consider finding me in Lion’s Arch during the festival and donating at least 100 candy corn to a poor ghostly quaggan in need ooooo. Yoooou won’t regret helping quaggan. Quaggan has made a series of questionable afterlife choices but would like to make up for it by offering my wares as well to kind people who would like to shop from quaggan. I only have the finest Prickly Spider Legs and Globs of Globby Gloop available, but later. Quaggan will need to restock so gifts of candy corn will do for now coo.

Title:  How to fully commit to your costume this year 

Story: If you’re anything like me, you might be struggling to find a costume that feels right for this year’s festivities. After all, how is one to improve on perfection? When you look this good year round, it can be hard to find something that looks better than what you wear everyday! Halloween is a time to go above and beyond, even if all you do is kick your feet up and read the paper. We all know the classics, devils, jesters, witches, royals, assassins, all that jazz. But have those tried and true options really achieved true perfection? Of course not, I say! If you’re looking for a costume, take something that’s been done before, and do it to the MAXIMUM! Jester? Learn to juggle! Learn to juggle KNIVES! Why not? Have you ever tried? Royalty? Go all out. Start writing flirtatious letters to members of the monarch’s line. Marry into a noble family. Wait a couple years. No one can tell you you’re not really a princess NOW, can they? We’ve all tried our hand at magic once or twice, but do you really need it to be a witch? NO! Move to the swamp! Say ominous and dreadful things to strangers! Eat strange grasses! Wear rags and scowl! I, personally, am going as a Charr, and while the Blood Legion sent my resume back unopened, I am still waiting to hear from Ash. This is the season to be whatever you want, but why must that only be a month? Become what you wish to be! Who’s going to stop you?

[softbiker]

Steve Rogers Oneshot

Warnings: mentions of character death, cursing, haunting, spooky stuff, angst

Word count: 7.1k

Summary: Steve Rogers is a man out of time. He knows more ghosts than people. One of his ghosts has come home. 

A/N: This is waaaay longer than I normally write, but I just wanted to do it justice. This is my submission for @barnesrogersvstheworld​ AYAOTD writing challenge! Sort of an Endgame AU, also features an appearance from a rather obscure Marvel comics character. The prompt I had was “Don’t look behind you.” - it’s highlighted in bold. This is also really sad. I’m sorry for that...but please let me know what you think! 

His tastes have changed.

Most people wouldn’t have known that - wouldn’t have seen anything abnormal about a 100+ year old man reaching for minute oatmeal and Folgers at the grocery store. There had been a few articles, before, in health or men’s interest magazines, about the ‘Super Soldier Diet’. They were much more colorful than this - full of sugary cereals and peanut butter and seasonal frappuccinos. The articles always ended with reminders that a normal human should reach for more nutritious foods.

Steve pulls his oats - plain, made with water, no sweetener - from the microwave, and stirs just a little. Not thick enough; he replaces the bowl and adds another 30 seconds to the microwave timer. On the counter, the Mr. Coffee drips away, slowly filling the pot.

He eats quietly, perched on a stool at the island; he never uses the table anymore. A few news highlights appear in the notifications on his phone, and he scrolls through them, eyes scanning as he spoons his tasteless breakfast into his mouth.

New York Nears Completion of Relocation Program he reads, letting his thumb swipe down to read more of the article.

“Almost three years after the globally devastating event in which Earth’s population was reduced by half, the people of New York City are finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel in their relocation efforts for residents whose homes were damaged or destroyed in the aftermath of the Decimation. The project, one of the last proposals by Tony Stark before his retirement from the Department of Damage Control, is expected to end-”

He closes his phone.

**********

There are three support group meetings that he attends each week - two as a leader, one as a participant.

“You should come, Nat.” He’s a broken record, but he just keeps spinning. Like the planet, like the solar system. If he falls out of orbit- “Just once. You might be surprised…”

“Some of us still have jobs, Steve.” She raises a still perfect eyebrow, now back to its natural red. He finds a little comfort in that.

“They’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Maybe not. But don’t wait up for me.”

The Tuesday meeting is the hardest, though it was the first one he ever lead. It caters to a specific group, a group that looks to him because...well, because he lost what they lost. He wonders if they know, if they realize, that it’s all his fault.

“Jackie was...she was my rock, you know?” The new woman, Elsie, sniffs as she continues. “We went through a lot together, and I remember thinking all that time ‘God, what would I do without her?’ And now I know the answer - spiral and-and become an alcoholic.”

“You can’t blame yourself for all of that.” Steve shakes his head. “There was so much more going on - the world was practically in flames, and you were trying to cope. What matters is that you’re here now, trying to get better.”

Elsie is nodding, accepting a tissue from the man sitting next to her. She gives a shaky little smile and settles back in her chair, done sharing for now. Steve glances around the circle, waiting for someone else to speak up.

It was such an odd reversal for him, especially at first. When he first wandered into one of Sam’s support group meetings, he had felt out of place and alone - and that feeling was exactly why he belonged in a place like that. Sam could see it. It was one of his gifts; he was better at reading people than anyone Steve knew, except maybe Natasha. Even when Bucky came along, and Sam played the tough act, he could see all of that fear and pain, and knew exactly what to do with it. Over the years they were in hiding, Sam would secretly reach out to Bucky - during their visits in Wakanda, Steve found the two of them sitting at the lake behind Bucky’s hut and talking, low and intense.

“You know, sometimes-” It’s a man on the opposite side of the circle, dark-skinned with a greying beard. “I don’t know about all of you, but sometimes...I wonder if they can see us. If they know what we’re doing. Does that make any sense?”

He gets a few nods and murmurs from the group, so he goes on.

“I mean, after my old man died, my mom used to say he was watching over me.” He swallows thickly. “She was on her own, tucking a 9-year-old boy in at night, and telling me that Daddy could see me from heaven, that he was looking out for me. And I just think....well, I wanna know - where are they? Are they in heaven? Is that even possible?”

He turns to Steve, several of the people in the circle do. It’s always like this - whenever the sessions turn to specific questions or musings about what happened, they look to him. Because shouldn’t he know? He had lead them, he failed them, he was there when their lives went up in dust.

“Well, I don’t think I’m qualified to offer religious advice,” he starts with a rueful smile. “And, from everything I’ve seen, I don’t think we even know what’s possible. All I know is, we can’t live in the past...even if they see us, wherever they are, we have to accept that they’re really...gone.” He crossed his arms. “They’re not here with us anymore.”

The group has gone quiet, reflective. Most are staring at their hands rather than him, each lost in their own haze of memory and ashes. He wishes he could offer them more, but he knows grief like this, and Steve Rogers is honest to a fault - he won’t lie, even for the sake of comfort.

“We’re on our own now.”

**********

He goes for runs alone now.

No Bucky to keep up with him, pushing the pace and trying to trip him. No Sam to complain about his hamstrings and insist on coffee afterwards. Not even music on those weird tiny headphones she had gotten him. Just his sneakers and pavement and the sound of his own breath. Sometimes he hated that - how he never got winded anymore, never sounded hurt and tired, the way he would wheeze through his asthma attacks with Bucky holding him up and reminding him how to pull in air. The machine of his body was too efficient for that.

In his apartment, he takes short showers, cold and fast, like in the Army. The soap is blue, with a generic smell that is clean and reminds him of nothing. He turns and tilts his head back under the spray, allowing a few more seconds to rinse and-

He nearly jumps when a burst of heat runs down his back.

The water has suddenly turned hot, a steamy, balmy, sultry hot that turns his soft Irish skin pink. He had never had this problem with his showers before - never run out of cold water certainly. Maybe something was wrong with the…

When he turned around, he saw the hot water knob turning slowly clockwise, centimeter by centimeter, untouched.

He shut off the water and got out.

**********

“I’m gonna have to call a plumber sometime.”

“Oh yeah? I thought all you old guys were handymen.”

“Ha ha.” He watches Nat scoop some spaghetti into bowls for the two of them. “I was the artist type. Not really handy around the house.”

“Guess that means Barnes was wearing the pants?” She’s smirking, and he feels like he’s seeing the real Nat again, so he goes along with the joke.

“How could he not? Who’s gonna let a 90-pound asthmatic wear the pants?”

“So what’s wrong with your plumbing?” Nat peeks over the fridge door as she grabs some parmesan and a bottle of wine. Steve, under strict orders not to help, is watching from the kitchen table.

“It’s my shower, something happened the other day. The water turned hot while I was in the middle of showering, even though I had it turned cold.”

“Hm. Weird.”

Steve comes out here at least once a month, or as often as he can. He sees the way that Natasha would rather slip into her work, lose herself in the business of holding the pieces of the world together, let go of her own life. The pantry, open and visible from where he’s sitting, is stocked with the bare minimum dry goods and canned foods; the fridge isn’t much better. He’s seen her on missions, seen her at home in her mismatched socks; he knows that she’d barely feed herself, surviving on a sandwich a day, if the thought or the hunger struck her. So he comes and threatens to cook and she saves the compound from being burned down by making a meal for the two of them.

It’s a far cry from normal. From pizza nights with Sam and Wanda at the compound, the two of them taking turns introducing Steve to movies he missed - all the “classics” he hadn’t heard of. They were missing their monthly family dinners, too; Tony always made room in his schedule to attend, dragging Pepper along from the office, and Steve sat at the head of their long dining table watching this strange, funny little family he had share and eat and laugh with each other.

Now he sits across from Natasha at a table otherwise occupied by her scattered files and reports, a pair of pointe shoes laying in the chair next to her. He didn’t come often enough to expect her to clean for him. She had enough on her plate.

“You know, I was talking to Carol last week,” Nat says, twirling her pasta around her fork. “And she said she might make it to visit us next month. It’ll depend on that trafficking case she was working in the Pegasus galaxy.” She shrugs a little.

“That’s good.” Steve chews, sips his wine. “It would be nice to see her.”

They don’t talk much throughout their meal; there isn’t much new to share. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows along the wall of the compound, Steve watches the early sunset fall over the grounds, shadows reaching and reaching, as quiet as it was empty.

**********

Sometimes, sometimes, when he’s feeling more stupid than usual, he opens the drawer.

That drawer. The lower one in his bedside table. With her box inside.

The box isn’t really anything special - just plain black, with her name written on the top. He got it at the suggestion of the team’s - his - therapist, Dr. Rajan. She recommended that putting some things away, rather than leaving them around his room, might help him move on, realize that his life had changed. He thought about putting the compass in the box, too, but it felt wrong. She wouldn’t want that in there. Somehow it mostly ends up in his pocket, and he stares at it from time to time, at the picture inside, thinking about words like should have and what if.

He’s staring at the drawer now, remembering the night before, when he thought about getting the box after he shuffled in from support group. When he was halfway through his flask of that Asgardian shit he kept under the bed. Steve had shuffled out of his clothes and fallen asleep in his underwear instead, flask still clutched in his hand, just sober enough to turn down the bad idea.

So why was the drawer open?

**********

“Have you thought about getting back out there? Dating again?”

His laugh is humorless.

“Doc, come on. I think we both know I’m not the type.”

“All we know is that you’re a serial monogamist.” She smiles. “And a very eligible one.”

“Sure, but…” Steve pauses, rubbing his palms against his jeans. He looks around the office, trying to find something to focus on. “I feel lucky...really lucky, to have had the kind of love I got. I mean, I never really expected to have it, not after I woke up in this century. And then, with her, it just sort of happened so naturally...well, lightning never strikes twice, as the saying goes.”

“It seems like, for you at least, it did,” Dr. Rajan raises her brows. “Two great loves in one lifetime? More rare than lightning.”

He runs a hand through his hair, still long on the top.

“I-I guess so. But it won’t strike a third time.”

“Because you’re not going to give it a chance?”

“You know me too well, doc.” His smile is apologetic, kind.

**********

At night, he sweats through dreams of her. His legs tangle in sheets where they used to twist and curl around her. The pillows smell only of him, his blue generic soap, but in his mind, locked somewhere far and sweet, her scent fills the air. Fills him up until he tastes it.

He tastes her, too, in dreams; under him, around him, pressed close in that intimate haze only lovers can know. Her lips chase his and smile into his mouth, following the curve of his jaw as he tucks his own face into her neck. It’s in his veins now, her smell and taste, ripe and alive on his tongue and oh, he’s swimming in it. She sighs, blissful, and sinks her teeth into that spot at the base of his throat-

Bedsheets fly off him as he bolts upright in bed, chest heaving, the sweat rolling in little beads down his temple. The smell is fading, drifting away from the room even as he tries to hold on to it; she was here, right here, and it had all felt so real, having her in his arms again. But now he’s wading back to consciousness, unwillingly, the tide of his dream pulling away from the shore and tugging at his ankles, carrying her with it. He wants to drift out to sea on it, drown in it, never resurface in this half-empty world.

Always so dramatic, Rogers.

Something nags at the corner of his eye, and he turns to the bedside table. In the pre-dawn light of the window, he can see the second drawer open. Her box is pulled forward to the front of the drawer with its lid propped up, asking, begging to be seen. He feels himself almost chasing the tide, diving back in as he leans over the side of his bed…

He slams the drawer shut.

Steve blows a harsh breath past his lips and swings his legs out of bed, tugging the sheet from between his thighs. His bare feet brush the cold wood and he arches up on his toes, tight muscles protesting the stretch. Palms scrub at his heavy eyes, brushing away what he can of his sleep. He has no plans to go back to bed, not now. He’ll just get an early start on his run. Maybe put in a few extra miles. He runs a hand through his hair, fingernails scratching absently at his scalp.

Stumbling into the bathroom, he turns the cold water tap in the sink and splashes his face a few times, feeling the two-day stubble on his cheeks. The shave can wait until after his run, he thinks. He stands straighter and reaches for the towel next to the sink, patting his face dry - he leaves his eyes closed, buried in the cotton for a moment before meeting his own gaze in the mirror. Immediately his eyes are drawn down to - what the hell is that?

At the base of his neck, just where it meets his shoulder, is a small red mark. A love bite. He presses it with a finger and hisses at the tenderness of the skin. Unbidden, the wave of his dream crashes over him, rolling him under, and he can almost feel her lips again…

The hair on the back of his neck and arms is standing straight up, his body gone cold all over. He thinks, maybe, he should go back to bed after all. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he hears his own name. What if...what if she’s waiting for me? He almost turns around, almost looks at the rumpled bed, almost expects her to be in it, rolling over in that tangled mess and smiling past the curve of her shoulder…

He yanks on a hoodie and running pants, toeing into his sneakers without socks, and leaves the apartment unlocked. Hardly knowing it, he clocks 50 miles, the sun high overhead before he can force his legs to stop, even his enhanced muscles starting to twitch. His sweat is still cold.

**********

There’s a memorial. Lots of them, actually.

All the major cities have at least one, and New York has built theirs, unsurprisingly, in Memorial Park. It’s huge, a sprawling garden of sculpture installations covered overhead by a soft white canopy. A retaining wall, approximately 3 feet high, lines the garden beds and holds in the dark rubber mulch, its outer white brick etched with the names of the lost. Even Steve could admit that it was beautiful, and so different from the solemn obelisks and walls of names he had expected when the memorial was announced.

The city had commissioned a team of artists, led by the famous Chihuly, to create blown glass sculptures using...well, as much of the collected ashes of decimated people as they could. “Cremation glass” it was called. The concept was morbid; though symbolically beautiful, most hadn’t imagined a stunning art gallery, more suited to the Met than this mass grave of the unknown.

Steve was there when it was dedicated, as was Tony. He was asked to say a few words, and he did; he has no idea, now, what he read from those cards handed to him by the administrative team. A black suit stretched around his shoulders, no shield in sight, his tie more like a noose as he watched the somber faces of the attendees. Loved ones and friends of people he had failed. A living memorial. Tony stood next to him, year-old wedding band still shining as he crossed his hands in front of him and declined to speak.

There are a few locations he has memorized around the park, the Lost Garden, as it has been named. A blooming blue hydrangea bush, sculpted white flowers and leaves pressed between the green, with the name “James B. Barnes” carved a few inches below. Across from it, red and yellow globes hang from a white tree, the round shadows falling over “Samuel Wilson”. Two rows over, an exploding tower of tangled green and blue spirals, surrounded by bushes, guards the name “Wanda Maximoff”.

Hers is carved neatly - block letters, plain font - into the white brick near the entrance of the memorial. Above it, a cherry blossom tree blooms sweetly, the pink flowers joined by purple and pink glass stems sprouting up from the ground around the trunk of the tree. Soft green bushes hem in the sculpture, as though keeping the glass from growing too far. It’s whimsical, charming. Elegant.

He fucking hates it.

He hates how this is meant to honor her - the vibrancy of her memory, the slyness of her smile, the passion of her love, the ferocity of her anger. She was more solid and real and hard than the delicate stems of glass that stood for her now. It wasn’t even her ashes in there anyway - he knows that for certain. He knows because he felt her drift through his hands under a hot Wakandan sun. He had watched the dust float and settle and knew that all the parts of her he kissed and held were under his feet and in his mouth and Jesus God it made him want to scream.

He doesn’t know whose ashes are here, in the glass above her name. But he wants to smash it. Put a fist through it. Hear that tinkling glass shatter on the ground the way she did. It would only be right.

As he stands there, staring at the falling cherry blossoms scattered around the sculpture, he feels the air go cold around him. His whole body breaks out in goosebumps and the little hairs on the back of his neck start prickling. He shudders, looking around, but no one else is nearby. It’s a late spring day, warm and getting warmer, with the sun beaming through scattered clouds. He shouldn’t be shivering.

The wind picks up, light breeze growing stronger, and the long stalks of glass begin to vibrate. A low hum builds as the wind carves its way between the sculptures, a plaintive, lonely noise that he feels low in his belly.

Steve…

He whips his head around, looking up and down the row, but he’s alone - no one else is here. That whisper, his name, it was so close…

Steeeeve

He’s turning a full circle, looking for a microphone or a drone or something tiny like Scott’s suit.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

Stevie …

A cloud of cherry blossoms billows into his face, making him jump back. The chill sinks through his skin, slips down his spine bone by bone with each breath. His heart is hammering hard and fast. That name, that voice - it’s been three years. They’re gone. It’s not possible. He closes his eyes as he feels a presence close beside him, right at his shoulder, and he knows, he knows if he turns his head she’ll be-

“Captain Rogers? You alright?”

He jumps again, startled, and looks over to see a policeman watching him, eyes wary and concerned. The officer was young, like all of them now - mass recruiting in public services has been going on for a couple of years, with things nearly falling into chaos after...everything. The military, the police, trying to swell their numbers enough with what was left of the population to keep the world in check. Not like the Avengers were doing a very good job.

“Captain?” The young officer asks again, inching a half-step towards Steve. His hand, unconsciously, twitches towards his radio.

“I’m fine - really,” Steve shakes his head and offers a smile. “Everything’s fine. Just...remembering someone.”

The kid nods; Steve wonders if he himself ever looked so young in a uniform.

“I understand.” He’s tugging at his uniform jacket. “My, uh, parents - they’re over there.” He points at a patch of lilies, not far from Wanda. “And my brother.”

“I’m so sorry.”

That’s all he ever says these days. I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Everyone pretends that it’s enough.

He walks the kid - the officer - back to his patrol car, shakes his hand; the boy has to crane his head back to look up at him, and he stares up at Steve like there’s still hope in this world. Steve doesn’t have the heart to tell him.

**********

The chill follows him into the summer. Even with the sun high and New York sweltering with heat, Steve shivers in his apartment, cold biting at him until he aches with it. He cranks the heat on his thermostat, yet still finds a harsh breeze blowing through his apartment somehow. He allows the shower faucet to continue turning hot - blistering hot, the way she liked it - now that this chill won’t let him go.

Despite that, he finds himself staying in more than ever. He was never exactly a social butterfly - Bucky could testify to that. It tumbles him into memory: Bucky, slicked-back hair and spit-shined shoes, a rose tucked into the lapel of his jacket; Bucky, chin thrown back and ready to laugh at the world, an arm around Steve’s shoulders as he drags them on yet another double date. “Ya gotta get out more, Rogers,” he’d say, cigarette tucked behind his ear. “I’m a piss-poor excuse for real company.”

The only people he sees now are Dr. Rajan and the members of his support groups. Occasionally Nat, but she’s been traveling more lately, following the crumbs of Clint’s trail. Their emails are few and far between, containing only the bare bones.

It’s a Friday night - or maybe it’s Saturday, Sunday. He sits on the edge of his bed, turning the little thing over in his hands. The compass stays in his pocket most days. He flips it open, stares at the portrait inside, the one he’s had memorized since ‘43. He could draw it with his eyes closed, probably.

Suddenly, the compass snaps shut, unbidden, in his hand. It shakes, the mechanisms inside rattling violently, and grows hot to the touch. He yelps and it falls from his palm, dropping to the floor between his feet. The skin of his hands is red, scalded, and he flexes his fingers, watching the trinket warily. It lies on the floor, perfectly still.

Behind him, he hears the second drawer of his dresser roll open.

**********

More dreams come to him, sweet ones, and he sinks into them without protest. He falls into his bed at night happily, searching for the smell of her somewhere behind his eyes. She’s always there, always smiling for him, reaching and pulling him further down into their own special hiding place. She’s there in her uniform, in her sweatpants, in his t-shirt, in nothing at all.

“C’mere, Stevie baby,” she nuzzles his nose, and he’s close to tears but he doesn’t know why. Then she’s tugging at his own clothes and he’s not thinking about it at all.

The ache in his throat returns when he wakes empty-handed and alone. Beneath his jaw, a line of hickeys leads down his neck and across his shoulder. His breath puffs in small clouds as he pants and tries not to cry.

**********

“You don’t look so good, Steve.” Nat’s tone is worried, her voice tight. She watches him stare at the wall with a cup of coffee in his massive hands. “Have you been sleeping?”

He nearly chuckles at that.

“A little too much, I think.” He goes quiet then, mouth turning back down, carved sadness in that larger-than-life face.

“I think...God, Nat,” Steve slumps forward, elbows on his knees. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Join the club.” She sits down next to him, sliding a soft hand across his back. Her voice is just above a whisper. “We’re all still struggling. You know that. You’ve seen it. Sometimes it feels...it feels like...you’re just holding on by a thread.”

He’s shaking his head before she finishes.

“Have you - do you dream about them? Ever?”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean…” Steve rubs his eyes. “I mean...do the dreams feel...when you wake up, does it feel like it really happened.”

Nat frowns.

“I’m not following you, Steve.”

He sighs, heavy and resigned.

“No, I know. I’m not making any sense.” He leans into her embrace a little. He likes the contact of it. Hasn’t had that in a long time.

“Listen, Nat. I know S.H.I.E.L.D. used to keep a lot of records of...enhanced individuals…”

“Sure. Everyone that pinged on their radar,” she nods. “So, pretty much anyone with abilities.”

“I need to have a look at them.”

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yes. But if I told you, you’d have me committed.”

“Yeah, that really makes me want to help you.” She leans her head against his shoulder, fingers squeezing his bicep. Her voice still soft and low. “Tell me what you need.”

**********

They meet in a public place. It’s not hard now, with the world half-dead, to go about their business as though they are two men with nothing to hide. A bright, hot July sun beats on their heads, and Steve adjusts his sunglasses as a bead of sweat slides down his neck. On the street, traffic grumbles along, bikers and street vendors and tourists darting between. The hard metal chair of the café presses into the soft underside of his knees, leaving little dents in his skin.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Captain,” the man across from him smiles. The white symbol on his forehead stands out starkly against his dark skin. “I understand we move in different circles.”

They’re sitting outside a small restaurant in Port-au-Prince, only coffee on the table in front of them. The heat is sweltering, oppressive, different from the New York heat that Steve knows. Part of him wishes they were near the beach, with the wind coming off the ocean. She would have begged him to go to the beach.

“That we do,” Steve raises his eyebrows. “Even with everything that’s happened, aliens, Thanos...things like magic are still...hard to believe.”

“Hm.” Jericho Drumm leans back in his chair, steeples his fingers. “I think you are here because...it’s not so hard anymore, yes?”

He grits his teeth. There are fingernail scratches on his back and they chafe against the sweaty cotton of his shirt.

“You’re a smart man, Jericho,” he sighs. “And I think you might be the only person who can help me.”

Jericho Drumm nods.

“Yes, I think so, too.”

According to the S.H.I.E.L.D. files Steve spent all his free time digging through, there were only a few enhanced individuals with supernatural abilities. And now half of them were gone. Some, like the sorcerer Tony told him about, had managed to stay under the radar for thousands of years. With precious little to go on besides an alias, Steve commandeered a quinjet and packed a bag for Haiti.

“What you are asking me...communication with the spirits…” Jericho shakes his head. “It’s not what you think. Or what it looks like in the movies.”

“Then tell me,” Steve presses, leaning his elbows on the table. His coffee is half full. He can see his reflection in the oily surface of it.

“I’ve served as a houngan for many years; I’ve served as Sorcerer Supreme. In fact, with Stephen Strange gone, they may ask me to serve again. But inviting spirits into this world is a dangerous practice - not white magic.”

“But it can be done?”

Jericho narrows his eyes. The white streak in his hair is bright in the noonday sun.

“When Thanos tore a rift in this world, in this universe,” he speaks slowly, choosing his words with careful consideration. “He tore through the other side as well. The things he’s done affect us all, the living and the dead. It is possible, the things you describe, are caused by this. A ripple effect, if you will. A door not closed.”

“A ripple.”

“Yes. However,” Drumm raises a finger, leaning forward to speak in a low voice. “I will say something else. I may have years of experience with the supernatural, but I studied psychology as well. My time in America was mostly in a university, studying the human mind, how it works…” He pauses for a moment, giving Steve a look that is on the suspicious side of apologetic. “Our minds are powerful. When a person wishes for things, even terrible things, the mind can give them what they seek.”

Steve closes his eyes, jaw tightening.

“Believe me, I know how I sound,” he sighs. “I know. My therapist says the same thing. But if anyone’s going to believe me, it’s you. This is not in my mind.” His fingers are shaking and he curls them into fists. “This is real. She’s...it’s real. It’s her.” Haunting me.

Dr. Drumm nods, sympathetic and quiet. He watches this captain, this legend, the age showing in his young man’s body. With the sunglasses propped up on his head, the dark circles beneath Steve’s puffy eyes are on full display. His shoulders curl in, posture defensive, small. His knee bounces under the table, and his jaw ticks every so often, teeth clicking in his mouth. There is a bruise visible at the base of his neck where the collar of his shirt has shifted to one side.

“Very well, Captain. I will do my best to help you.”

**********

He sits cross-legged on the tile floor of the bathroom, surveying the items in front of him. According to Dr. Drumm, he would need only a few candles, items that belonged to her, a circle of salt to protect himself. Incense, too, burning in the corner, the smell of sage and smoke floating around him. The lights are off, only the flickering candles illuminating the room.

He feels a little silly, setting all of this up. When he was a boy, vampires and werewolves and ghosts were all just stories - hiding under the covers with Bucky and scaring themselves silly. No real monsters hid under his bed. All of that came later.

Under his shirt, the amulet rests against his chest, growing warm with his own body heat.

“If you must do this alone as you insist,” Jericho had said, shaking his head. “Then wear this. Bene gris-gris. It is the best I can do to protect you from dark magic.” His steel grip closed around Steve’s arm. “And this may be a dark thing, Captain. Her coming back to you. It doesn’t feel like white magic.”

Steve had only nodded, his hand closing around the amulet. He was beyond light and dark now, beyond counting costs. He had chased ghosts for so long after he woke up. It’s only right for him to chase her, too.

Here, in the bathroom, toes pressed to cold tile, he digs two more items out of his pockets. Dr. Drumm said to bring something that would ground him to himself, something special. He turns the compass over in his hand, flicks it open, and sets it on the edge of the circle. From the other pocket, he fishes a black velvet box. His fingers twitch, feeling the soft fabric; he doesn’t want to open it. He hasn’t opened it, since he took the ring off their nightstand in Wakanda and put it back in the box. She hadn’t worn it - didn’t like wearing it on missions or in fights. Afraid of scratching it. She had wiggled it off her finger, smiling at him, leaving a kiss on his bearded jaw-

He leaves the box closed for now, and places it in the center next to the other tokens - a photo of her, a necklace with a small silver pendant she used to wear whenever they went on dinner dates, a little jar of seashells from a beach vacation she took in college. All the little things he had packed away in that nightstand drawer. Memories he had put into storage.

Safe inside his little circle, he reaches in his shirt and grabs the amulet tight in his fist. He closes his eyes. Breathes deep the incense and soft curling smoke from his candles.

He says her name softly in the dark.

In his mind, he shifts his awareness down the plane of his body, piece by piece. He learned meditation techniques during his therapy sessions; now he has another use for them. He says her name again.

“I want to speak to you.” He says, voice low, a lover’s intimacy. “I call on your spirit.”

Her name. Her name. Her name.

He’s not sure how long he stays there, curled on the floor, but the chant of her name lulls him into a trance. His eyes are half-open, the candles wavering in front of him, casting long shadows on the walls. He licks his lips, calls her name again.

One by one, the candles snuff out.

He goes quiet. Smoke curls up to his nose, but he can’t see - the only light is coming from underneath the bathroom door. That familiar chill trickles down the back of his neck, raising the hairs. His flesh is covered in goosebumps; his muscles tense up, coiled tight, ready to spring. His tongue lies dry and thick against his teeth.

“Hello?”

Steve?

He sighs her name. “Sweetheart, is that you?”

A cold breeze passes over his face, rumpling his shirt.

“Are you there?”

The compass flies up and smashes against the wall.

Steve…

Her voice is harsher. Sadder.

“Baby, please,” he’s begging now. He can feel how close she is, she’s in the room, he knows it like he knows his own body. Like he knew hers.

For the first 25 years of his life, he lived with asthma - any little trigger could set him aching for air, his lungs betraying their purpose and seizing up on him, his whole body trembling in relief when he managed to pull in oxygen. He feels that ache for her now - acute and sharp as it was the day he first lost her, a physical pain and its cure so close, so close, if she would only let him - let him breathe-

Oh, Steve.

“Honey, I’m here, I’m right here.” He stands in his little circle, spinning around, though he still sees nothing in the darkened bathroom. He feels the tip of his nose go numb in the frigid air, his body shivering slightly.

I’m here, too, Stevie.

“Where, baby? Where are you?” He’s desperate, so desperate. He’s going to cry if she doesn’t-

I’m here. Look.

He feels, thinks he feels, cold fingers brush down his cheek, and he turns. The mirror above the sink is frosted over, he can see it now that his eyes are adjusting to the pale dark, and he stumbles towards it. Pulls a sleeve down over his hand and wipes at the fog, the remains of his body heat melting it away in streaks.

“Oh...oh god.” He grips the edges of the sink.

Hi, baby.

There she is. There she is. Standing right behind him, over his shoulder. His eyes sweep over her face in the mirror, scanning the details he never forgot, not for a moment. Her lips quirk a sad little smile, tilting her head.

You don’t look so good, Rogers.

His laugh comes out as a sob, and he nods. Fingers curl tighter over the edge of the sink because it’s all that’s holding him up right now. In the reflection, he sees her take a step closer to him - feels her presence, her smell is right behind him and if he can just turn and take her in his arms then everything will be alright again…

NO DON’T!

The force of it is loud in his mind, sends him reeling forward against the sink. Her lips are trembling in a soft frown.

Don’t look behind you.

It sounds so soft. So sad. And he knows, knows in the marrow of his bones, that this is it, this is all they can have. This halfway, this inbetween, this ships in the night barely seen as they pass - it’s all he gets. All he has left.

He presses his hand to the cold glass of the mirror, tips of his fingers stroking the image of her face. His chin feels weak, jaw slack, his hip leaning against the sink. She’s crying, too, tears shining against her soft cheeks.

“Where are you? Do you know what’s happening?” He manages to ask. It’s the question, the question everyone would ask of their ghosts. She shakes her head a little.

I...I don’t really know. But I know I’m not with you.

He nods, tries to swallow around the thick lump in his throat.

Wherever I am, I’m not with you. And I miss you, Steve.

“I miss you - God, honey, I miss you so bad-” his breath hitches, and he wonders in the back of his mind if he’s going to have another asthma attack, his first in 70 years. “I-I need you, sweetheart. Jesus Christ, I miss you. I don’t know what I’m doing without you and-and-”

He’s hyperventilating, breaths stuttering in his chest. The hand that’s pressed to the mirror has gone numb with cold but he won’t move it, not if it’s the closest he comes to touching her face. He watches her come closer to him, behind him - her smell fills the room, no smoke, no incense, only her. His teeth are clattering in his mouth even as he tries to grit them together, lungs stuttering and he’s so so cold but he only half feels it; the muscles in his back jump and twitch as he feels her, really feels her, right behind him. And then-

I know, baby. I know.

Her forehead presses between his shaking shoulder blades. Icy hands creep up beneath his shirt, pressing right over his heart. Her arms lock around his ribs and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze - as if she could brand herself there. In the glass, Steve’s lips are blue and his sobbing breaths come out as little frozen clouds. The mirror is starting to frost over again; the goosebumps on his body won’t lie down. His eyes slip closed, tears chilling in their tracks on his cheeks, and he presses his hand over hers at his heart.

I’m right here.

The ache in his chest sharpens, then dulls, slow and familiar. Something he always carries. His breaths are slowing now, the trembling in his muscles calms a little. She traces a frozen circle over his heart.

I’m right here.

He sighs her name before he blacks out.

**********

Natasha watches Steve in his kitchen, her green eyes sharp and narrow. She hasn’t been to his apartment in a long time, but three days of no answered phone calls, texts, or emails and the Black Widow will investigate. He seems...fine. As fine as Steve has been since it all happened, when he went clean-shaven and cropped his hair, like girls do after a break-up. He smiles over his shoulder while stirring the pot in front of him.

“It’s the one thing my ma made sure I knew how to make for myself,” he says. “She knew I’d need this soup every time I got sick.”

“That’s sweet,” she says. And it is, though she’s never heard him mention it before.

They eat on barstools at the island, sharing little bits of conversation, small talk, mission updates. Sound bites of friendship. Still no explanation for his radio silence.

“Can I use your bathroom?” She sighs as he scoots back his stool, scooping up their bowls to take to the sink.

“Of course - you don’t have to ask, Nat.”

She slips down the hall. Doesn’t go to the bathroom - turns right instead.

On the floor of his bedroom, she sees the candles. The circle. The pictures. A little jar of seashells on his nightstand. While they were eating, she had seen something new - a little chain around his neck, the shape of something underneath, suspiciously like a ring.

Natasha leaves without saying a word, maybe hugs him a little tighter at the door.

She won’t begrudge him this.

[lilibetts]

The Wicked Forest Awaits You...

For Tricks and Treats of Riverdale, Theme 3: Seasonal Celebrations (Haunted House)

Rated E(xplicit) for some wicked fun!

Darkness falls across the land The midnight hour is close at hand Creatures crawl in search of blood To terrorize y'all's neighborhood And whosoever shall be found Without the soul for getting down Must stand and face the hounds of hell And rot inside a corpse's shell

I'm gonna thrill ya tonight I'm gonna thrill ya tonight Ooh, babe I'm gonna thrill ya tonight

The Wicked Forest was reportedly “the most un-hinged haunted attraction in Riverdale”. 

Betty had shown up as soon as the sun went down, and she still spent an hour waiting in line. Alone, of course. Every one of her friends would rather spend Halloween getting drunk at an off-campus party than indulging in the spooky atmosphere. Granted, she hadn’t actually told anyone where she would be going tonight, because the Wicked Forest was firmly in the Southside and as much as some people in the Northside liked to brag or bluster, very few had the guts to actually cross the boundary lines.

That she had gave Betty an illicit thrill.

This year, she’d dressed up as a zombie schoolgirl: hair spray painted gray in a side ponytail to match her torn, bloody white blouse and desaturated gray plaid miniskirt. The face makeup was the most fun to apply, all those Youtube tutorials coming in handy. Gray foundation to give herself a deathly pallor on all expanses of exposed skin, black raccoon eyes, fleshy red ‘gouges’ on the side of her face, and dark red lipstick. 

She wondered what her friends would think if they knew she was actually dressing sexy for once. They probably wouldn’t believe it. 

A haunted house on Halloween was hardly the place to pick up a date, but for Betty, who had been gradually building up her confidence to sign up for Tinder, wearing knee-high white socks and no underwear made her feel like a bold, sexy woman.

“Betty?” a familiar baritone called out from behind her. She turned around and a guy she didn’t immediately recognize waved at her. “Hey.”

Squinting, she took in the mop of black hair and the slim body in a black-and-white skeleton shirt, leather jacket, black jeans and boots, and the skeleton face paint. “Jughead? Is that you? You look amazing!”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Jughead Jones had shared a few classes with her over the past two years. At first, Betty had found him and his voice annoying. She couldn’t be sure at what point over the past two years her feelings had evolved into a massive, uncontrollable crush. Naturally, in true Betty Cooper fashion, she didn’t have the guts to try and make a move and would rather throw herself into the vicissitudes of online hookups. 

Jughead ran a hand covered in fingerless gloves through his hair. “Do you want to go through together?”

“Sure!” She could’ve kicked herself for her bobblehead impersonation then. “So have you gone through this one before?”

“Twice as a guest, but I’ve worked it several times as well.”

“Really? What kind of characters did you play?”

“I did mostly forest work—a Jason Vorhees/Leatherface composite type with a hockey mask and chainsaw. One year I got to be a werewolf.” Jughead sounded more bashful than proud when he admitted that.

“I bet it was fun...I prefer to be on the receiving end of scares, though.”

“Unless it’s one of Chipping’s essay prompts,” he quipped.

Betty groaned and smacked his arm. “Don’t remind me. The last one was so stupid, wasn’t it? ‘Write your own ending to prove there’s no single way to tell a story...but’—”

“—’but I’m still going to pick a winner in the end!’” they both chorused, laughing at their shared derision.

After that they were quickly engrossed in a debate about the best Halloween movies to watch during the buildup to the holiday. Jughead’s preferences ran more towards the older classics and Hitchcock, Betty’s more towards relatively recent films like Hocus Pocus, The Addams Family, and Practical Magic.

Oddly enough, she discovered they both loved the cult hit Ginger Snaps. 

By the time they were at the head of the line, Betty was sure her blush was showing through the heavy makeup.

The general order of the Wicked Forest went like this: haunted house, a maze that led to the shed, a bridge over the creek, then the forest proper.

The baseboards creaked as they crossed into the dilapidated house; maniacal laughter and screams could be heard faintly in the distance. A ghostly apparition dressed like a long-dead bride lit up in the corner of the living room, moaning as its arm raised, pointing a finger at them. Betty gasped and hugged the wall as she moved into the kitchen, Jughead following close by. 

Smoky fog covered the floor, pouring from cauldrons. Made from dry ice, probably, and lit up by green lights. A witch cackled as she stirred her brew. In the corners, cages descended from the ceiling, people in them reaching out and begging for help.

She shared a wide smile with Jughead.

In the bathroom, they found a bloated dead body with red hair, dressed in all white, floating in the tub. “Disturbingly realistic,” Betty muttered to herself. In the dining room, a young woman was suspended up on the wall with long knives sticking out of her body. ‘All those who escaped me before will die’ was scrawled in blood around her body.

“I think she was in our English class last year,” Jughead whispered to Betty, her stomach queasy from the excitement.

They were herded into the basement, where they discovered that in order to get to the other side, they would have to go through a gauntlet of secret society members in dark hooded robes. A red carpet highlighted their path. After they’d taken a few steps past the first hooded figures, they all stepped forward, giving Betty and Jughead less space to escape. As if reading each other’s minds they moved faster, only for the hooded figures to step closer and closer.

One jumped into their path, exposing a Scream mask. Betty was not at all mortified by her little yelp of fright. Not at all.

From there, they were in a cool cellar with a dimly lit tunnel rising up to ground level outside. Cobwebs covered the top and sides and as soon as she spotted the giant spider on top, she had a feeling she knew what was coming. Sure enough, as soon as they passed underneath, the spider dropped onto their heads. Betty shrieked and ran the rest of the way through. 

“Oh my god, oh my god!”

Jughead was clearly laughing at her expense as they emerged outside. “What, are you scared of spiders, Cooper?” he teased her.

“Shut it, Jones.” She snapped back without heat. “Why are you even going through the attraction if it bores you?”

“Oh, it’s never boring. Maybe I’m just enjoying it more with you.”

She felt like she was back in sixth grade again. Should she pass him a note asking ‘do you like-like me? Circle y/n’?

Betty was grateful for the absurdly long lead time in between guests. It meant she wasn’t running into the group ahead or the group behind, like in most other haunted attractions she’d attended over the years.

As they entered the shed, the walls and floor tilted, disorienting her. Then Jughead was there, hand slipping into hers as he helped guide her to more even ground. Even after the floorboards started vibrating underneath them, neither let go of the other. Betty laughed with delight as they pushed through the heavy plastic curtains into an open space occupied by a scene out of a medical horror: a conscious, moaning woman was strapped down on a gurney while a man in a bloody doctor’s mask and lab coat performed what looked like a lobotomy on her, bits of brain matter leaking outside her head. Her chest was held open by a spreader, the bloody mass of her internal organs on display.

“Ew, ew, ew!” Betty stomped her feet and pushed Jughead onwards faster. “Too real!”

The trees pressed in on them more as the manmade pathway guided them to the small bridge that would take them across the creek and into the thick of the forest. Part of the way across, a small golden light came on in the distance, drawing her attention to the side. A hulking body unfolded itself before howling at the night sky above.

Betty didn’t realize Jughead was right behind her until her back was pressed into his front and his hands gripped her hips. She turned her head without taking her eyes off the werewolf. “Your old job?”

“Yeah, me and Fangs used to partner during this bit.”

“Partner?”

A dark shape darted in between the bridge railings, grabbing at her ankles. Jughead’s giggles were almost as loud next to her ear as her startled shrieks before she took off to the other side. She had to remind herself to breathe deeply and calm herself down while they moved on.

Maybe it was the near pitch black of the forest that made her brave, but Betty reached out and slid her hand back in Jughead’s. They shared shy smiles that made hope bloom inside her. 

There was a decrepit school bus sitting right there in the middle of the trees. Not sinister at all. Jughead made a gallant ‘after you’ motion, sweeping low with his bow. Betty fanned herself and simpered, “such a gentleman!”

“Nonsense! I’m merely ensuing you die first, my dear.” His upper crust British accent was atrocious.

“You sounded like Niles Crane from Frasier.”

She forced herself to stop snickering as she stepped up into the bus. At first glance, all the people in the seats were dead or otherwise inanimate. Carefully, she made her way down the narrow aisle, hugging her arms to herself in anticipation of the movement she knew must be com—

“AH! FUCK!” 

Betty twisted around and saw Jughead pressed up against seats opposite a softly hooting ghoul still reaching out for him with gnarled fingers. 

At the front, a burly man wearing a black balaclava stood up suddenly, facing them with an enormous, shiny knife. The momentary relief on Jughead’s face morphed to fear and Betty didn’t have to be told twice as they booked it out of the bus, one more monstrous figure trying to impede their progress.

“So much for the unflappable Jughead Jones,” she started after they caught their breath and made sure the man in the black hood wasn’t following them any longer.

“Har har, I am humbled.”

After that point, the path became increasingly bumpy and overgrown and Betty couldn’t see well enough to stop herself from lurching to and fro. Jughead was right there by her side, using his arm around her waist to keep her from face-planting in the dirt. Given that she was wearing low block heels, she had no idea how some of the other guests were doing this in three inch stilettos.

Maybe it was their surroundings, maybe it was Jughead’s touch that was responsible for her heart continuing to pound wildly. Branches closed in on them before they exited into a small clearing. A fire roared in a pit, the sudden brightness making her eyes hurt and eclipsing what was happening along the treeline. 

“Whoa,” Jughead murmured, alarmed, causing her to squint harder.

People had stepped into the firelight, wearing dark hooded sweatshirts and gray gargoyle masks. Growling could be heard behind them and when Betty and Jughead turned, an inhumanely tall figure stepped around the bushes, with a long robe, some kind of blooded animal skull mask with horns, branches for wings, and a necklace of bones.

The minions stepped closer, closing ranks menacingly. This time, it was Jughead who grabbed her hand and tugged her past the leader and the wooden placard that proclaimed that the creature was the Gargoyle King, and back into the dark forest.

They stumbled along for another minute before Jughead muttered something to himself that sounded vaguely like “ah, fuck it”. 

He led her over to the rope boundary that made up the path and stepped over it.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh! I know this place like the back of my hand. It’s just the lame clown shit ahead. Do you trust me?”

Betty didn’t know about trust, but she was totally down for whatever they might get up to out there. Alone. “Hmm-mm,” she nodded and stepped carefully over the rope too. Together they made their way down a slope and around a cluster of bushes.

She found herself pressed back against a thick tree trunk, warm lips on hers, and the sounds of excited screams nearby reminding her that they weren’t alone. Betty raised up onto her tiptoes and pulled Jughead closer as she kissed him all the more eagerly. 

The heat of his hands could be felt through her shirt while he cupped her breasts, making her tilt her head back to moan.

“Shhh,” he whispered softly this time before dotting soft kisses along her neck.

Their face makeup must be horribly messed up by now but Betty didn’t care. She wanted to take him back to her dorm room, or go to his, and do all the wicked things she’d been fantasizing about.

A little exhibitionism was fun, though.

By the time Jughead slipped his hands underneath her skirt and discovered her little secret, she was incredibly wet. Wet enough for him to let out a quiet expletive and a shuddering sigh as his fingers glided along her inner lips. He quickly removed his glove and slid two up into her, stroking slowly before rubbing steady circles over her clit. Back and forth he went, until she was groaning and bucking her hips against his hand as she came embarrassingly fast.

Apparently haunted houses make for excellent foreplay.

Reaching for the button of his jeans,Betty ignored his protests of “you don’t have to”. It was her turn to shush him as she lowered herself onto her knees and took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head of his shaft to get him nice and wet. Jughead did his best to not thrust into her mouth and his panting breaths were harsh in the relative silence of the night. He lost control towards the end, she could feel him shaking as his hips canted forward and salty wetness burst onto her tongue. 

Veronica was definitely not going to believe her when she told her what she’d done tonight.

They held hands and grinned broadly as they rejoined the path behind another group. When a tall, demented clown caught sight of them in the intense blue light, he groaned and ripped off his mask. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Jones? Were you two fucking off-path? Fucking seriously?”

Jughead only offered his friend a careless shrug. “Hey Sweets, how’s tricks?”

Betty, however, pressed closer against his side and smiled serenely up at the taller man. “Because I’ve already gotten the treat.”

‘Sweets’ groaned at the pun and waved them on. “Just get out of my forest, you freaks.”

They snickered as they made it to the end where a flatbed full of bales of hay was hooked up to a tractor, waiting to take them back around to the entrance. Jughead glanced over at her then, and Betty had to bite back another laugh. His makeup pretty much announced to everyone what they’d been up to, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Orgasms and finally hooking up with your crush would do that.

“So, would it be too weird for me to ask if you wanted to go out to lunch with me this weekend?”

(His answer was an immediate and resounding yes.)

[telesthisia]

HANDY DANDY RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET FOR PRINCESS ZELDA (A Link to the Past)!

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

mun name: Amber!!  ooc contact: My DMs are always open for mutuals and non-mutuals alike (I think at least, if not don’t be afraid to send in asks either I try my best to get to them ;v;)! I do have a personal blog but weeps.... me no longer active on there. And a twitter but weeps once again, it’s an oc twitter despite my yellings of off topic things. MY DISCORD TOO!! Though my activity is very inconsistent somedays I’ll be on others not so much! Don’t be afraid to ask for that uvu 

who the heck is my muse anyway?

HOHO!!! For those who never touched The Legend of Zelda in their lives, I’m sure it’s pretty dang confusing to see more than one design of both Zelda and Link, I’ll try my best to explain this! The series follows a very, very convoluted timeline filled with plotholes, as such the Links and Zeldas we see throughout different titles of the game are actually reincarnations who are destined to seal away whatever darkness may threaten the lands known as Hyrule.

The Zelda I play as is the princess of Hyrule during a point in the timeline known as “Downfall Era” where the Hero of Time in OOT lost against Ganondorf in the final battle; Ocarina of Time is the reason for why there’s multiple timelines with each having their unique era depending on the choices in that game. The Downfall Era is known for having games known as A Link to The Past, Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Time, Link’s Awakening, A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes, The OG Legend of Zelda, Annnnd Adventure of Link! The Zelda I play as comes from A Link to The Past as well as the Oracle series and I guess Link’s Awakening despite having no appearance. The events of A Link to The Past and Oracle Series has deeply affected my Zellie in that she suffers from unspoken traumas as well depression. See, before the events of ALTTP there was a war known as the Imprisoning War, that war ended where the seven sages seal away Ganon. Peace reigned for a while until a series of plagues and droughts struck which affected the kingdom. It wasn’t until the antagonist of the game, a wizard by the name of Agahnim, would put an end to the misfortunate blighting Hyrule with his magic, gaining favor with the king. He was able to worm his way into court and from there act on his plans in breaking the seal to the sacred realm where the triforce and Ganon rest. Doing so, he must capture the seven maidens who are descendants of the seven sages and sacrifice them in order to break the seal and well, guess which princess happens to be one of those seven maidens? Suffice to say, he was successful in breaking the seal with Zelda being the final sacrifice. Here we find out that he’s actual the alter ego of Ganon (don’t question it too hard) and we also find out she’s not dead! Hooray! But she is trapped in a plane known as The Dark World, once the sacred realm corrupted by Ganon’s greed. So as all LOZ stories goes, Link saves the day. Happily ever after, right? Well... no, see unlike in the game where the ending is happy and everyone who died is alive I follow both the 90s comics and Himekawa manga where those who died in the games did not come back to life. This includes Zelda’s father, Link’s uncle and some of the maidens. It’s very bittersweet in that, the day is saved and Ganon is gone forever but at the cost of loved ones no longer coming back. 

Well... Ganon comes back! In the oracle series! Two years after ALTTP, Twinrova tries to resurrect him by using the blood and body of Princess Zelda, meaning she can actually die this time around. But Link saves the day once again. Which leads us today, the main verse of the blog which is a year after Oracles and three years after ALTTP! NOTE: That my smash verse more or less follows this timeline I have in place for this blog. 

things you should know

I sound like a broken record but. She’s a glass canon of sorts. Where she’s very powerful thanks to blood of the seven sages, the light force, and having hylia’s blood in her veins. As such, she’s very powerful and her magic super potent which is why so many people wanna sacrifice for dark rituals... BUT!! She has super power health issues that affects her magical stamina and body as such she can’t even use half her powerful magic and this upsets her greatly. It’s a small headcanon of mine because in the games and manga, she doesn’t really do much despite being a powerful magical princess. Keep in mind that ALTTP came out before the retcon that is Skyward Sword and before they decided to add more to Zelda’s abilities throughout the course of the series... so my brain went to: she’s powerful but can’t use magic too much due to poor health. It worked!! Before smash came along but I swear I’m not at all salty. To be fair, it was my fault for assuming things but imagine: glass canon Zelda. It sounded super cool at the time! 

She represses a lot if only for the sake of her nation and to appear as a good leader for her people. As such, she’s almost always calm and has a gentle smile on her face despite radio static sounds resounding in her thoughts. Give her time, she’ll open up and show you her playful side! 

She’s been surrounded by death considering before ALTTP, during ALTTP and kinda with Oracles if you count Twinrova, as well as having a connection with the spirit realm due to freaky PSI powers. So, she doesn’t really have a negative view on death and has actually gained that edgy romanticist view as the result of her life experiences. She’s very much someone who likes to live life to her fullest as the result... and well, it doesn’t help that she’s aware of her short life span thanks to her future vision. Something she won’t reveal to anyone more than likely as to not worry them. She’s more or less accepted her fate... speaking of which

She hates fate/destiny/etc but accepts whatever happens because again clairvoyance has proven that there’s no changing what’s been planned. So, she doesn’t bother fighting against it. But, what impresses her are those who manage to overcome destiny, something that Link does sometimes which is why she looks up to him. He’s that variable that the future can’t keep track of due to how ever changing he is. 

 She loves exploring creepy places, ruins, caves, and dungeons that are scattered throughout her kingdom, for both history and the spooky aesthetics of it! So if you see her outside the castle she’s more than likely getting ready to explore some spooky place. She’s almost always wearing her cloak but there are rare moments where she’s not either ;v; she’ll always go by the name Elle... worth mention she doesn’t bother hiding the mark of the triforce on her right hand.

Speaking of which, only people from the capital known as Castle Town and even some from Kakariko village as well know of the princess’ appearance. Various small towns throughout the land of Hyrule however, only remember her appearance from ALTTP where her hair was a more golden blonde rather than the platinum color that it’s taken from the various fear and stresses from her life. And also, she’s more freckly due to not wearing coverup when outside the castle. Ok well,,,,, here’s the best side by side comparison I have...

If you ask her what the light arrows are, she’ll look at you funny. She comes from a time where silver arrows are a thing :’) the few things that can defeat Ganon

Closet romantic, as in she loves love and wishes for a romance of her own but when it comes to her own feelings she’s an idiot due to repressing feelings.

what she’s been up to:

main verse: Which is during the events of Skyward Sword, as such she’s no longer in Skyloft nor does she have the full knowledge that she’s Hylia but Zelda is suspecting that there’s a connection there. She does not know how to wield her magic as it comes and goes in spurts. She’s seen throughout the Surface so she can be anywhere! Even in other timelines due to using the Gate of Time, we can just say that something screwed up causing for her to end up in another time period or even verse! LOZ series is pretty flexible in time travel.

where to find her:

Graveyard + Sanctuary: It’s a soothing place to visit and also to pay respects to the fallen in ALTTP. 

One of the three provinces (my rendition of Hyrule is a little bigger than the in game map so don’t be afraid to add places that aren’t in ALTTP but in other titles, I know I tend to do): aka anywhere in the fields, she’s a woman plagued with wanderlust and doesn’t like being confined to one place

Kakariko: the villagers who know her true identity are hella nice to pretend that it’s not the princess but Elle! Guards tend to be here after a certain time though, so to avoid them she always avoids going to the village when it’s nearly sundown

Ruins, catacombs, abandon shrines etc: again she likes creepy or historical places or both! 

Haunted Grove: Well... it’s haunted! So :’)

Castle: it’s possible to meet her here too! Whether as princess or someone sneaking either out of the castle or back into it. 

current plans:

Lead her kingdom to the Golden Age, something her father tried to do before his demise. While wishing to see Link once more. 

desired interactions:

I would love the usual adventure threads!!! 

FRIENDSHIP!! She needs friends, pls!! 

ENEMIES!! It’d be fun to write a more angry Zel who doesn’t get along with someone! 

ROMANCE!! I’m a sucker for cuteness ;v; and slow burn ;v; 

HORROR AU!! HORROR AU!!! 

Creepy gothic threads of Zelda running into a creepy cryptid in a gothic castle on a stormy night.... this is very specific but listen, cries... 

Comfort thread ;v; 

things that bother me:

People who know she’s the princess right off the bat ticks me off ngl. A-ok if you muse is unaware of her otherwise! 

PEOPLE WHO KNOW THAT SHE’S FROM A BLOODLINE OF A GODDESS AND SAGES DHSJAKJADB no one really knows that the royal family actually did descend from gods, unless your muse is an immortal and is aware of the events that goes on they shouldn’t know this fact. The only thing the public is aware of is how the royal family have mystical powers different from the population. 

uhhhh that’s about it? Mostly metagaming pft, not too much bothers me now that I think about. 

tagged by: i pirated it ;v; from myself! 

tagging: whomst ever! i recommend doing this since it’ll help a ton with those who still are unsure with your muse but feel too nervous to ask questions.