#it's also just occured to me that i might make a halloween special one of these cuz. that would be hilarious

[cj-the-random-artist]

Okie I wanna make another one of those Medieval Fantasy AU comics cuz it's been a bit but idk what to do for the next one so. Taking advantage of the polls I'm letting y'all decide (since my intragram followers picked the last one)

We've got a few options, pick the one you'd like to see most imminently:

For Impulse Gets Cursed by Faes, there's a short post about this that stems from an ask from @harley-the-pancake (didn't know if you'd want to be tagged but wanted to give you credit for the conversation that spawned this idea in the first place, if you want to be untagged lmk), which is quite hilarious actually. This one would probably be somewhere between 10 and 15 pages

For Traveling adventurers sell Jimmy a cursed item, it gets a little bit into Jimmy's past and the state of the neighboring fae kingdom. Also it's an excuse for me to actually get Tango in this AU. This would probably be like 10-15, maybe more pages

For The Story of Kevin Bubbles, and enchanted dog Skizz found in the forest, this would be a short drabble about the previously unmentioned Kevin Bubbles, a magical AU version of Skizz's actual dog (I came up with this late last night cuz I thought it would be funny). This would probably be like 6 or 7 pages, maybe up to 10 but probably not more unless I get really carried away with it

Take ur picks and when the poll is done I'll get going on the next one of these. Enjoy :D

[unproduciblesmackdown]

love the remark from joe about the christmas extravaganza wherein like thee main inspiration here is that it is essentially an actual christmas special that purports to be a christmas special which is about christmas specials, and his talking about like yeah the talk about commercialization(tm) of christmas and yet this is about such artifacts of [so there's Anything & there's capitalism:] but about the actual heart there & there's actually one here too, even while at no point do things pull back or become "serious" in the way that seriousness has to refer to a Tone of somberness sobriety drama & gravitas etc etc....illuminating when also only now do i know that much about the show as a whole and when also i'm not That familiar with christmas specials, though already certainly enough to like, generally Get It even without having seen the specific ones joe cites for example lol

thinking about like [there was never a Christmass held as an occasion of particular significance that didn't absorb preexisting nonchristian traditions, for instance, partying & treats] and [then a christmas carol revival and reinvention of more modern Cultural Significance, from the context of industrializing 19th century goings on & going like i don't know that the impoverishment & child labor seems great] and then like of course in a [see: that context] sense like you have Anything? in capitalism? of course like how to commodify things & fit anything that people can possibly do or desire or value into an act of consumerism, all the potential of life itself is contained in a way you can give this one company money. but at the same time here we are where just supposing there might be something "pure" of being associated with this system, you know, means what? that there, no i'm pushing through i'm making this post too lmao, that there isn't [insert Valued concept, like artistry, good intention, any genuine meaning to possibly be found] in a tv series, despite this not generally being considered the realm of High Art (which is, what, as a concept within what framework, with what examples and what reasoning) and yknow pick your true/valuable/high art, & how "pure" from any interactions w/commerce was that in its creation, or in it Now

smash cut to remembering a quote recently from someone's like first closest viewing of a Christmas(tm) happening, i think from a like roundtable article of people with varying opinions on the whole occasion from jewish currents magazine but don't quote me & i can't directly quote them but the person talking about how christmas despite all its hype seeming mostly a demanding time to perform this Event that would also invariably be a disappointment. and that had it occurring to me how like, also after the christmas carol cultural shift like the way traditions shifted / were shuffled around & absorbed & re/invented, like it wasn't really something so contained to The Home, it wasn't so centered around like whether it was amazing for small children (or there wasn't so much a concept that anything about being a small child was extra special or precious. for example the children yearn for the mines) but prior like, on The 25th what might happen is like outside homes, between Families, like the poor going out for alms, not exactly so familiar with mumming and wassailling and [it's the christmas chaos figure give it treats] as is somewhat present in halloween here modernly, hooray halloween lmao like yes Yes outside the house outside the family nighttime antics performing etc treats....anyways. also the christmas tree as like "ugh that germanic pagan ritual??" but then i think some royal xmas english or french had an xmas tree so it was like oh alright & adopted as "normal" now....but Anyways like even now reflecting like yeah lovely if Thee 25th is a genuinely nice time for people in the [nothing's open b/c why aren't you at home (or church)] nuclear family household time fr, as it's lovely if that's a generally nice context/situation/time for them in general, but it's like no the fun stuff is the more purportedly to de facto actually secular shit Outside the home & family & the 25th lmao, which is the shit that indeed seems more fun & hypey & then perhaps you encounter [actual 25th is demanding & stressful & perhaps overmuch, inevitably falling short of a pageant of perfection much less an ostensibly spontaneously genuine manifestation of perfection, etc]

certainly my own experience being like, church every week christian household so we did christmas & as a young kid it was indeed like ooh ahh i love the kind of mysterious special occasion that to me is like this chill Nighttime deal with the intriguing decorations & dim cozy Lights element like yeah love the depths of an xmas tree with the interspersed lights. then inevitably as per the nature of [you're stuck with your nuclear family in your family house, "ideally"] like the The 25th Day aspect which was never really the highlight vs the more general Xmas Zone was more an ordeal more dreaded thus eclipsing the other stuff. plus when it's like "ohh christmas can't be secular it also shouldn't even be Fun: go to church, stand around in somber wonder perhaps, the classic guilt if you want i dunno. trying to remember the annoying advent or christmas day homilies sermons Lectures like oh so you think this is a joyful time and you like the fun stuff? Wrong. not much of a conclusion beyond that now we sit around for 24 min slogging along eucharistically. ignore the more fun banger xmas singing though or we're bringing back monastic chants"

(sidebar lol a highlight of Later Christmasses Stuck With [it is a curse] was doing it monastic with nuns like yeah i'll be a tenor doing the harmony in your choir knocking out nighttime mass wahoooo....the fun of being theatrical gays like fuck yeah i'll take the reserved seating and enjoy harmonizing singing while i gotta do the church stuff anyways. and i enjoy well enough interacting w/the nuns who were nice & helping w/yknow practical shit yippee)

anyways and back to like knowing more about what's even in the full christmas extravaganza show and the illumination like oh right yeah having this Language of the heartwarming & perhaps chaotic on purpose or not Christmas Special, established / pervasive enough that even in like yeah not being very familiar w/these specific examples or even so many others, i have a grasp on the context & that language lol. as people for whom xmas is not a religious requirement thing or a casual religiousish thing or more like reverse engineering a yule out of the fun celebratory revelrous aspects & traditions lol like a secular party, or less / no direct specific interaction/relationship to the occasion: you sure still Know Of shit / have any familiarity all the same. where perhaps the stuff Surrounding xmas is like all this hype but then you participate more proximately in some [on The 25th deal] & be like isn't this just disappointing...? like so true the Secular shit is what's Fun, the [not the 25th! not dutiful church attendance!] shit is like, out of the home, interacting outside the family. it of course has the [formally businesses can only respond like uhh something something christmas is truly contained in our product] which is year round always with anything but ramped up with the [buying things] increase for xmas which is indeed a Tradition of like hey this can be expensive & stressful. and an opportunity to go "materialism....go to church" like making you think huh But. hardly necessarily Lacking anything genuine or meaningful or valuable outside [go to church] and people can be finding & creating that from what is happening in their lives anyways, & of course it doesn't have to be about Anything someone considers like ""objectively"" "significant" at all, religious or [this is anything besides a funny little occasion anyways. love to sing songs & have feasts] or like an installment of tv or like a whirlwind of like 20th century's second act secular (and decidedly heretical & technically blasphemous i'm sure combo re: the "and christianity etc etc yeah yeah" elements, if one would care about anything like that. no papal bull of approval, but ft. the tongue in cheek acknowledgment of the whole element like "it's fine to celebrate Other holidays of course. but you Gotta celebrate christmas with meeee.mp3") (separate note but shoutout to the "it's Not fine to celebrate other holidays ugh!" faction who don't Really want the idea of "we'll just be over here having a joyous occasion while you have to sit it out, unhappily unbaptized" to result in universal conversion, they just want Being Christian to confer authority, hey no you Can't be also having fun having food celebrating observing etc etc >:( and i certainly Can't be Forced at p.c. gunpoint to acknowledge Your goings on exist like You absolutely should have to Mine)

anyways it's like hell yeah fun to muse on like yeah the flipside of [strangling diminishing forces always trying to find new ways to encroach & be like how can this benefit me. like capitalism e.g.] being the creative expansive enriching forces like many people who care about the world they are in and about what actually makes life better and less strangled and diminished, which also will spontaneously find ways to grow and can't be truly extinguished or contained by the inherent stifling & limiting & extracting approach. like oh yeah of course like not just the secular out of the house outside the family shit that can be fun fr but now also the modern media, after [nothing to me b/c xmas soured & then was not much relevant & yeah i'm not exactly dying to "replace" the The 25th aspect anyways even if i supposed there was some opportunity right there but it's not much relevant] like ooh yeah fuck the joe iconis christmas extravaganza huh lmao i hear that i get that. krampusnacht's beautiful reinvention (even though afaik currently krampusnacht is also mostly about out of the house out of the family partying & antics like a lil scamp. to me it's about fucking the krampus now, alternatively, beautifully) i love it i am enthused it is a light in my heart & i'm not unserious about that, the way i could even go [!!!] just over what could be found in traces online for extravaganzas of yore back in dec 2022 when one was not currently going on. like oh yeah lol i could be on a sidewalk and go like "it's (ah) be (ah)" with corresponding choreography & the implied [—ginning to look a lot. like. chris. miss] i love strings of lights i recall the joy to the world harmony years later the nutcracker slaps always i have the media i Have encountered & do enjoy etc etc etc. and shoutout to the haters and the people who do go to church about it even possibly

[newgenog]

Gotham Horror Picture Show

Wildmoore Week Day 2 - Holidays

Halloween's a holiday, too, right? What are holidays, anyway? AO3 still hasn't sent my invite, so we'll keep hanging out together here, for now. In case it needs stating, I'm only writing oneshots for this special occasion.

It's Halloween night, and Batwing has given Batwoman the night off, per the request (or bartering) of Sophie. She wants to stay-in, watching slasher flicks, which Ryan thinks are even more ridiculous now that they’ve seen and conquered all that they have in Gotham.

Ryan is sitting on the couch with Sophie's head in her lap, watching her girlfriend react as Drew Barrymore runs from door to door, trying to keep her taunters outside. Drew's character has a kitchen knife as a weapon.

S: See, this is what happens when you bring a knife to a gun party. 

R: It's not a gun party, Soph. They have knives, too.

S: It'd be a gun party if they were coming after me.

Ryan rolls her eyes, entertained. Nothing besides Batwoman makes Sophie feel safer than her Glock, which is also never too far away. Her amusement is interrupted by a memory of three men chasing after and attempting to rob Ryan two Halloweens ago, one of them aiming a gun at her when she had nothing to offer them. She wasn't Batwoman then. Her predecessor had come to her rescue, beating the nearby Crows vehicle to the scene by several minutes. If the former Batwoman hadn't showed up when she did, they might have found Ryan Wilder the statistic instead of a few unconscious and disarmed thieves.

Sophie looks up, ready to fuss at Ryan for watching her instead of the movie but loses the comment in her throat when she sees the distant look on Ryan's face. 

S: What'cha thinkin' about? 

R: Halloween. 

Sophie offers the soft smile she gives Ryan when she's being patient with the snark she gets in response to displays of support. 

R: A lot has changed since two Halloweens ago. 

S: Ah…That’s a memory. 

Sophie recalls hearing about how The Crows would have been too late to save the woman she now can't bear to lose and is still torn about whether she wishes it was her doing the rounds that night, all the while knowing everything probably worked out exactly how it should have. Sophie also recalls feeling torn when she'd encountered Ryan, back then. Sophie had wanted more for her than the instances occurring when they'd had run-ins. Ryan was a smart-ass firecracker with curves for days, and even her sarcastic smile would challenge Sophie’s ability to maintain her decorum. Yet, Ryan had been losing more and more time for Angelique - a woman who wouldn't or couldn't change. Sophie recognized that her energy was different when she had to question Ryan for one thing or another: it wasn’t just about getting answers; it was an opportunity to find out how Ryan was doing, and Sophie had never stopped hoping that Ryan would give her some indication that her path was shifting into a different direction. 

Even as a pieced-together memory, two years later, the urge to protect Ryan is still so strong - especially the Ryan that didn't walk around covered in Kevlar at night, with a belt full of gadgets. At the time, Sophie believed it was her responsibility to keep people safe by getting criminals off the streets. She knew now, though, that her perception of who the criminals were and the role The Crows played in crime wasn't all she'd believed it to be. 

S: Want to talk about it?

R: I’m good.

Ryan comes back to the present, and her expression returns to its prior state of gratitude for the woman she gets to freely hold and gaze at. Seldom does she offer a transparent answer to this question when Sophie asks it, unless she’s boiling over and it literally spills out, but that never stops Sophie from asking. With persistence, she has succeeded in getting Ryan to let Sophie inside of her head. 

S: You sure? I understand why you might want to be out there tonight. 

R: I'm where I want to be. Luke can deal with the spooks for a change. He’s always conveniently behind a desk when there are monsters involved.

Sophie raises a brow, knowingly. When they'd first started dating, Sophie asked if Batwoman ever took a night off. Honestly, the answer was: rarely. Sophie embraced that; it meant more quality time in the Batmobile and carving out moments in between (or hell, amidst) battles. They weren't 9 to 5 civilians with a set dinner and sleep schedule, but the time and space they saved for each other carried more weight. Ryan receives Sophie’s eyebrow memo and takes the opportunity to continue practicing using her big girl words. 

R: I mean, it does feel sort of like an anniversary. That night was the first time I’d ever held a batarang and used it to protect someone. Sure, looking back, the suit actually would have protected her, but it was like my instincts kicked in, and maybe it was my first step towards becoming a hero or whatever. 

Ryan had gone from needing saving, to becoming Gotham’s protector. Sophie smiled, proudly.

S: Well then, happy anniversary, babe.

R: Who knew I’d go from that to fighting more than bag snatchers one day, though?

S: I guess you have had more than your fair share of creepy fights. 

R: Seriously. If I never have to climb the back of an oversized crocodile again, that’ll be just fine with me. 

S: Flesh eating Zombies, too, huh? 

R: And toxic bats! 

Sophie remembers the first time she saw her Batwoman, the suit being the only thing she had in common with the prior one. Ryan was just in time to save her from being bitten by one of Alice’s elaborate distractions, which had put all of Gotham into yet another state of crisis. Even then, with literal chaos swarming around them, Sophie was stopped in her tracks, needing to know more about this woman. 

S: That was the first time you saved me. All 5 foot 4 of sass and might, tossing that batarang around like a natural.

While so many things had changed, they’d been working together in their own way - saving each other, ever since that night. Ryan leans down and places what is meant to be a quick, confirming peck on Sophie's lips; but Sophie pushes forward, not letting Ryan break away, both thanking whatever spiritually or mystically had been at work to get each of them to this place and point in time, and acknowledging that Ryan is choosing them over the city tonight, reinforcing their mutual priorities. Drew Barrymore screams bloody murder, and Ryan smiles against Sophie's lips.

R: Are we going to watch your girl get sliced and diced, or what?

S: We? Like you've been watching the movie. I haven't seen you look at the screen once. Don’t tell me this is what scares you.

Watching Sophie scrutinize and critique a movie she chose and supposedly loves is far more fun for Ryan than watching a blonde woman run upstairs to get away from her violent pursuer. And they both know what really scares Ryan... 

R: Me, scared? Who's laying in whose lap right now? Looks like you're the one who wants to feel safe and warm. 

S: Don't deflect, Ryan. You know I can protect you.

Before Sophie knows what’s happening, Ryan has flipped her around until her back is sunken into the couch and Ryan is hovering above her with a villainously mischievous look. 

R: I'm more threatening than anything you planned for us to watch tonight. 

S: Prove it. 

With barely any effort at all, Ryan tears Sophie's half buttoned pajama top open, exposing her bare chest, and attacks her neck. Vampires are more Ryan's style, anyway.

[randomrosewrites]

An eternity more

AO3

A special Alastor x reader fic just in time for Halloween!

Word count: 2000

Warnings: Mild language

Summary: Alastor and his partner celebrate Halloween. 

In Hell, there was one day a year in which the usual brutality and gore that occurred was not only just commonplace, but treated as a festivity. 

Halloween. Sometimes referred to as Hallow’s eve, or Samhain. 

Every circle always had some type of event going on. Violence had fighting matches all throughout the day. Gluttony had haunted house walks and tours in their suicide forests. Even unpopular circles like Limbo got into the Halloween spirit by having small carvals pop up here and there. 

For the denizens of Hell, Halloween was a day where every sicko, nutjob, and crazy could find something that tickled their fancy. 

On a night of such horrors, many people expected that of the Radio Demon to be doing something horribly violent; Engaged in some form of terrorism or inspiring fear into the masses via one of his broadcast. 

Instead, though-

“Darling! Look over here, they’ve got handmade masks!” Alastor says to you, excitedly dragging you along the streets of Pentagram city. 

-he’s quite the opposite 

While Alastor was more than happy to spend his nights prowling the streets and seeing the fear ignite in people’s eyes, he enjoyed other things besides that. He wasn’t entirely diabolical. Why go around causing chaos like some petty ruffian when there were other superior activities to engage in?  

Tonight, as you walk the streets alongside him, the city is busier than ever. The night sky is stained a dark garnet and the cold air makes you snuggle closer into your coat. Pedestrians pack together in the streets, a huge mass of limbs and bodies. 

Vendors and shops have their doors wide open, showing off their merchandise or advertising for one thing or another. There’s food stalls, costume shops, drug vending machines, antique stores, and the like. Alastor zig zags from stall to stall, checking out every and anything that catches his eye. 

His own usual outfit is changed for the event, instead of the normal red he’s changed into a dark burgundy, so dark it almost looks brown. One of his red-gloved hands holds yours, dragging you along with him. You have to nearly run to keep up with his long strides. 

He comes to a stop, the action so sudden you bump into him.

“Ow - why’d you stop-”

You look at the building you’ve stopped in front of. A bright neon sign reads ‘The House of Haunted Horrors’

A bloody haunted house. 

Alastor looks at you, excitement shining in his eyes. “Shall we go in?” 

“Al, you know I get scared easily-”

“Great!” he says before you can finish, dragging you through along with him into the entrance. 

“No, wait! - Oh my god no Alastor, Alastor!” you protest to no avail. 

After a brief talk with the receptionist, (who’s eyes nearly bulged out of their skull when they saw him) you’re ushered into another room where the attraction begins. 

The employee tells you the backstory for the situation. You’re a scientist trapped in an underground laboratory where demons were experimented on. After a sudden outbreak has cut off all power and communication, you’ve got to find the exit before the creatures in the dark can get to you first. 

You’re utterly horrified. Alastor’s delighted.  

She hands you each a flashlight and wishes you good luck before closing the door and leaving you to begin. 

“Well, let’s get going, shall we?” Alastor takes your hand (Which you cling onto tightly), flicking on his flashlight and starting down the hallway. 

The hallway is dark and grimy. The flashlight can’t shine very far so you can only see whats a few feet ahead of you at a time. Your footsteps echo through the eerily quiet corridor. The only sound is of your tense breathing and your heartbeat in your ears.  

“I hate this, I hate this-” you groan, latching yourself onto Alastor’s side and burying your face in his coat. 

“Don’t worry darling, it’ll be fun!” he reassures you, patting you on the back. It’s at that moment that a hollow groan rings through the hallway, making your entire body tense. 

“Oh fuck - I hate this, I hate this-” you hiss.

“What about this do you hate?” Alastor asks, keeping one arm around you and one on the flashlight. “The dark? The feeling of not knowing what lies ahead? The weight of-”

“Al,” you snap. “Not. Helping.” 

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Apologies. I couldn’t help myself. Fear is a wonderful emotion on you, dear.”

Though for as much as he teases you, you can by the way he keeps a firm grip on you and the whispered assurances he utters periodically that he does care about you. You also know he wouldn’t hesitate to get you out of there if you truly were terrified. 

The two of you explore different hallways and rooms, slowly making your way through the attraction. You pass by corpses (that you hope are just fake) covered in blood, scratch marks on the walls ripping up the wallpaper, dismembered limbs, empty cages and cells, and other grotesque, creepy sights.

In one room, you open the door to see a stuffed bear sitting on a chair in the far corner. When you enter and explore the room, you look back to find that the beat has moved towards you.

Yeah, no. 

“Fuck this, fuck this, fuck this-” You run out of there as fast as possible, slamming the door behind you. Alastor laughs at your reaction, jogging to catch up to you. 

You continue further into the attraction. Occasionally a gust of wind or a nearby whisper will make you whip around and press closer to Alastor, heart hammering in your chest, but you’ve seen no actors yet. Are there any? Or have they all been scared into immobilization? 

You’ve just about let your guard down when you open the door to the next room and are met with a looming, black figure standing in the corridor. 

They’re tall, much taller than you, with long black limbs and two glowing eyes. You’re so surprised at the creature’s sudden appearance that you don’t even think to scream. From the mass of black, a cavern opens up - its mouth - emitting a hisss sound. When the figure reaches out towards you, your mind goes blank with terror. 

Behind you, you can feel Alastor’s form shift. 

One note about Alasotr’s demon form - you’d seen it hundreds of times before. You’d seen his pupils go black, seen him stretch until he was a tall, lanky stick figure with teeth that took up half of his face more times than you can count. 

A lot of things might scare you, but Alastor doesn’t. 

But it definitely scares the worker. He drops his act, taking off into the darkness like his life depended on it. 

When you look at Alastor again, he’s returned to normal. He has the same smile on his face, but he seems slightly disappointed. 

“How pitiable.” he murmurs, before saying to you in a much lighter tone. “Shall we continue?”

There’s little else to the haunted house. A few more creepy sounds and flashes of moving figures from the corner of your eyes, but nothing else quite like the cryptid in the doorway. 

When you finally do exit into the noisy streets of the city, you breathe and sigh of relief. 

“That was quite charming, yes it was!” Alastor chirps. “It could have been more frightening but all-in-all, it was quite entertaining. Don’t you think so too, dear?”

You clutch his suit under your bloodless knuckles. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Alastor gives a  hearty laugh, giving you a reassuring rub of his arm. “You did very well.” 

As you leave, you spot some of the employees from the haunted house. Their costumes are half-off and they’re hugging the wall of the building, warily regarding the Radio Demon, looking utterly terrified - even more scared than you ever were. 

And for a second, you agree with Alastor - fear is a wonderful emotion. 

---

By the time you return home to your quiet home outside of the city, it’s almost midnight. Alastor makes the two of you supper and you eat it by the fireplace, the bright flames casting off every shadow in the room. 

“Did you enjoy yourself today, darling?” He asks after a few minutes into the conversation. He’s changed into a casual sweater and vest. It isn’t anything groundbreaking, but the outfit is so fitting and looks so good on him that you can’t help but stare. 

“I did,” you say, then with a bit of salt- “Even though you forced me to go into that haunted house.” 

“Yes, but it was fun, was it not?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” you admit. “But that’s probably because you were there with me.”

“Wonderful! I felt as though the actors could have been more adequate. Back in my day, even the worst of performers could do a better job than those buffoons.” 

You take a bite of your food, hiding a smile. “I think you’re the reason they were so scared, Al. After you shifted into your true demon form and scared them, no one else dared to try and piss you off.”

“But I wasn’t trying to frighten them off entirely!” he whines. “What kind of a person goes around scaring people for their occupation but can’t handle a little intimidation?” 

“People are scared of you, love.”

His nose wrinkles. “That I am more than aware of,” his expression softens. “But you aren’t.”

“No,” you reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’m not.” 

The conversations steers elsewhere and the two of you finish dinner. After the dishes are done, you coax Alastor into joining you on the couch. You lay on top of him, pressing your ear to his chest. Your fingers rub against the soft cotton of Alastor’s sweater, drawing patterns on the material. 

“Do you like my clothes?” He asks. Not accusatory or demanding, simply curious. 

“Yes,” you slide your fingers up to play with the collar of his shirt. “Very much so.” 

“Then by all means, play to your heart's content.” His hands go to your waist, sliding his thumb underneath your shirt to rub at your hip. 

You hiss. “Your fingers are cold.”

“Apologies,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “I can’t help it.”

He always ran a cooler temperature, no matter what. He was like a cold-blooded lizard, always leaching off of your warmth whenever he could. His favourite thing to do was to slip his cold hands along your neck when you weren’t expecting it, just to hear the noise that would come out of you. 

Your hand trails up, along his neck, over his jaw, and rubbing against his lip. He carefully nibbles on one of your fingertips, staring at you intensely. His teeth clamp down not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough so that you feel the pressure from them. 

“Beautiful…” you breathe. His hand slides up your back, running along your spine. 

Your free hand travels further upwards, nesting in his hair. The tips of your fingers stroke against the firm cartilage of his ear and he inhales sharply, ears folding to his skull. 

You hesitate. The ears slowly rise again.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask.

“No…” he whispers, releasing your finger from his mouth.“You can keep going. Just unused to it…”

Carefully, gently, you rub his ears. They’re quite soft, but also quite delicate so you’re careful not to overwhelm him. A hum emerges from Alastor’s throat, vibrating through your body. He’s tense at first, taught like a bow string, but over time he relaxes, melting into the couch. 

His hands seek out the small crevices in your body as well, your sides, your shoulders, your neck. A few times he has to seek the solace of your neck, whining and nipping kisses underneath your ear.  

Touching each other, exploring the way you each react to touches, giving soft affections - It doesn’t go farther past that, but none of you are seeking anything else from it. Every touch is for no greater reason other than it simply feels good. 

You let the time pass. It’s impossible to tell how long exactly, but it’s a while before you’re both satisfied. You wrap your arms around his torso and press your face into his shirt. He smells like rich wood and strong spices. Most of all, he smells fresh. There’s simply no other way to describe it.

“I wish we could stay like this every night,” you sigh, “Tonight...and the next night..”

Alastor kisses the top of your head.  “And then the next night...and the next...and the one after that, too…”

You lift your head to kiss him on the lips. “And for an eternity more.” His eyes flutter wide open, blinking just like a dazed dear. You want to giggle with how cute it is.

His expression melts into one of pure bliss, red eyes hazily gazing into yours. He chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose.  “And for an eternity more.” 

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 61: Rescue

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Sixty-One: Rescue

Note: I hope I didn't scare any of you off with any of the recent changes I've made! How have you been? Do you like how things have been going recently? And if so, I'd love to hear your predictions!

(-~-)

The salty coastal air kissed the rocks alongside the water’s edge, the ebb and flow of the shoreline a familiar sight by now considering the fact that they had grown up here. From the window of their home, they had a rather nice view of the water, even if they had no ability to step out onto a balcony or patio to actually take it in. Still, property with a view was expensive in most places, so neither of them was going to complain about the fact that there had to be a piece of glass between them and such a wonderful view. It was one of the better things about the house, all things considered.

Nero had arrived in short order, just in time for dinner and for a good telling off from Nico for having been gone so long. His explanation as to why and what was going on made perfect sense on paper, but when he tried to elaborate further into the details, It had devolved into a situation that required more than a little explaining, especially when it came to matters pertaining to his brother, Morgan, her brother, and literally everything else that was going on. It was a sort of conversation that drew captivated but clearly confused gazes from those who listened to it before they nodded in the barest of understanding and returned to their previous tasks, still wondering what had just been said to them, but unwilling to ask at the risk of sounding foolish.

Dinner had gone well enough, even though it served to be a wake-up call of sorts for him. Little Kyle and Carlo were doing well, and Julio was starting to become more proficient with the concept of using utensils. It seemed like he'd only been gone a few days, and yet the children had seemingly changed to a noticeable degree. He truly desired to spend more time with them once everything was over with and he had no pressing matters to attend to. What was going on in their lives did actually mean a great deal to him. Maybe he could even bring them over to see their uncle sometime? He could see it now, the look of trepidation and horrified anguish on V's face as he attempted to find a polite way to explain that he was on the brink of a nervous breakdown at the very thought of allowing children to run amok inside of his generally well-kept home. Oh, that would be a comedy masterpiece. He had to schedule an uninvited visit sometime in the future.

But one thing did occur to him as he chatted with the children that night and generally spent time with them after his return: when they got older, would they go down the same path that two generations of his own family had gone down? Three generations if he counted his grandfather, though he'd never met him to really ask if it went back any further than that. He wouldn't be surprised to find out that the urge to do battle ran even further back than that, but one thing that did concern him was the idea of his entirely human and not exactly magically inclined children doing battle against demons. While it was totally true that there were plenty of demon hunters who were human, the idea that they could be in such danger was worrisome to him, especially since he himself had not exactly gone unharmed in his own career. He liked to think that some of the work he did was in service of a safer world for them, one where they would not have to do battle against demons in order to keep the forces of darkness at bay. 

They deserved something that he couldn't have: A normal life. But they also deserve the choice to choose something else. He wouldn't think much more about it for now, but he couldn't say that he thought it would be right to dissuade or try to stop them, either. He had been allowed to take his own path, and he couldn't take that from anyone else, even if he tried. He just hoped it would never come to that.

As he glanced at the window across the water towards the mainland, he peaked back over his shoulder at Kyrie. She had just returned from the bathroom, completely and utterly ready to go to sleep. He would need to turn the light out. There was no need to keep her awake while he thought about these sorts of things to himself. And in all honesty, talking to her about it was probably the best thing he could do. But that could wait until morning, or perhaps even later than that. These were long-off problems, and he would not perturb or disrupt what could otherwise be a more than earned night’s rest just so that he could inquire as to her thoughts about the topic. There would be plenty of time for that. It was one thing that he promised himself. 

He refused to not be there for them for any reason. The cycle couldn't be allowed to continue.

"Nero, do you mind closing the window before you head to bed, please? I've heard it's going to be especially cold tonight, so it's probably a good idea," Kyrie asked politely as she practically burrowed her way into the covers, the only indicator that she was actually in the bed being the small lump that formed under them and a tuft of her red hair sticking out the very top. She had put extra blankets on the bed recently, and as such, it was especially plush and warm. A welcome sight and supremely comfortable. It was almost enough to make him snicker.

He took a moment to clear his mind before turning in her direction, hoping that his momentary pause didn't set her down a path of worry. She was unfortunately very good at reading him, and it seemed that she always knew when something was on his mind that either shouldn't be, or that was weighing heavily on him. Still, he would be lying if he said that he wasn't glad that someone understood. He didn't want that burden to fall onto her, but it was always good to know that there was at least one person who absolutely did understand everything that he was going through, and was always willing to talk. Well, now he had more than one person like that in his life, but there was always going to be something special about the rapport between himself and the love of his life. It was essential and welcome in their relationship, and he knew that should he ever need to be there for her, he would try his very best. She seemed to be able to internalize whatever was on her mind and solve those sorts of internal dilemmas herself for the most part, but he would never leave her hanging. Not in a million years.

"Yeah, sure thing Kyrie. I'll be right over. Let me take care of that for you."

True to his word he pulled the window shut from the top, locking the latch. He then pulled the heavy curtains shut, realizing for the first time that she had seemingly put up the shear set they kept up in the room during the summer. It seemed that she was trying her best to keep the cool air out, and the cozy heat inside. A smart move. They were not heavy, so they probably wouldn't do much, but it was better than nothing.

She giggled, gesturing towards the bedside table. Sitting there was a small but familiar mug, whipped cream topping it and an inviting aroma accompanying it. Steam seemed to bellow from the top, indicating that whatever was in the drink that he had been given was warm and probably should be drunk sooner rather than later. He would have asked her what it was if not for the fact that he knew that she was going to tell him regardless. He could see the excitement all over her face. How precious.

"Great, because I made hot chocolate! I thought you might like some, so I put your cup on the bedside table." She patted the covers invitingly, a large grin on her face as she seemed to excitedly wait for him to join her. He could only guess that she was waiting to drink her own drink in order to see if he liked what she made for him. It was the most Kyrie thing he could think of, and it was genuinely endearing. "Come drink it before it gets cold, silly! Your whipped cream is going to melt into a sad puddle if you don't and make a mess."

Nero could practically hear the joy in her voice as she spoke those words. Kyrie loved this time of year. Pumpkin spice, apple spice, cinnamon spice, you name it. He was probably forgetting a few. Everything had to be spiced within reason, and anything that wasn't had to be in the form of hot chocolate, peppermint, or even eggnog. She was very into seasonal drinks for the holidays, and with Halloween fast approaching, she was going to have ample opportunity. He just smiled and headed over to sit with her, setting aside the strange sensation of disturbance that he felt in the pit of his stomach. More than likely it was just the events of the day getting to him. They all had a lot on their mind right now. 

He knew that if he was truly needed, he would know it, but until then he would enjoy this quiet time with Kyrie and the children and wait for them to enact their plan. Sometimes the best thing you could do was simply wait for the person with the plan to tell you what they needed you to do, and as much as he didn't like sitting there and waiting to be ordered around, the simple matter of the fact was that he couldn't actually intervene even if he wanted to, and he definitely did. But without access to Yamato, he wasn't going anywhere to do anything. So for now, the hot chocolate was going to have to be enough for him. And anything that Kyrie did always was.

"Be right there. I'm sure it's gonna be great."

(-~-)

Picking up the pace as he hurried along, V and his companions were all too aware of the fact that they could still possibly be the prey rather than the predators in this arrangement. By the time that they had made it to the roof, the fight had been over, and it was safe to say that the red-haired man who he'd come to be quite fond of had seen better days. The wound that he'd taken to the chest didn't seem to be the primary issue, however. V had missed the fight, so he couldn't be sure as to how the wound had been inflicted or if it had actually done any lasting damage, but the one thing he could be sure of was that something was just off about this particular injury. There was a nagging sensation that was building in the pit of his stomach demanding that he seek someone with more teeth than himself to make sure that Sirrus survived. 

There was something more going on with him. He just knew it.

Looking up the street as he ran, he wasn't surprised to see that there was basically no one out right now. The inclement weather had seen to that. And yet, for the first time and perhaps an entire life, he wanted someone, anyone else to be out there. It wasn't because they could keep him safe. Far from it, actually, if the train station was anything to go by. No, he just needed quick access to a phone, and while asking to borrow one from a stranger while allowing his familiars to carry Sirrus up the street on the back of a demonic panther was a good way to set someone off, he didn't have very many options. 

Shadow and Griffon were doing their level best to keep from dragging the fiery-haired adjudicator down the street on the ground as they attempted to keep up with their master. Scraping all of the skin off his body wasn't going to do him any favors, and he didn't want to hear what he would probably say when he came to if that happened. It would just be a bad time for everyone involved, physically, emotionally, and mentally. No, it was best to just be as careful as possible to try and make sure that he was all right. They had all been through more than enough that night.

But then that brought them back to the matter at hand. He knew precisely who he needed to contact, and he knew exactly how to contact them, but for the life of him, he couldn't find a payphone anywhere. And that was atrocious because depending on the part of town you were in, there were probably more of them than there were family pets in this neighborhood. The fact that he couldn't find even a single one of those booths now that he actually needed one was as astonishing as it was asinine. For a moment he considered the possibility he might be in another of Belial's illusions before rushing along down the road, shaking his head. No, they were just nowhere to be found.

"Do you need to stop?" V asked as he looked around the neighborhood, somewhat sure that he recognized where they were a bit better now. He'd seen this neighborhood before at the very least, so that was an improvement. And now that he had some idea as to where they were, he could navigate to the nearest phone booth a bit easier. For a moment, he considered the fact that if his adversary were actually watching, this might be very educational to him. His extreme levels of confusion in regards to the topography of the area he was a dead giveaway to the fact that he didn't live over here. The more familiar someone was with their surroundings, the more obvious it was, and the easier it was to figure out how close they were to actually being home. He'd learned that himself first hand, as a kid. He'd gotten lost and left behind quite a few times.

"Can't say that we do, buddy. No need to worry about us back here. Just hurry up and make the call before something else bad happens. We've got our hands a little full over here." Griffon was attempting to help hold Sirrus up in a more upright position, making it slightly less obvious that he was actually completely unconscious. It was more for the benefit of anyone who happened to pass by than it was anything else, but either way, they had to get out of here quickly.

"Very well, then. I think I might have found one. Let's hope that it works." The Young summoner pointed in the direction of what seemed to be the outline of one of the booths just a short distance up ahead towards a plaza, a plaza that he silently hoped would have more people in it. That way the possibility of politely asking to borrow someone's phone was available to him in case the payphone didn't work. He just hoped that nobody noticed that his friend was unconscious, or he might get more than he'd bargained for out of the deal. He needed assistance, not attention.

Making his way over towards the phone booth in as quick a manner as he possibly could manage, the summoner rushed inside, checking the phone before he made any commitment towards actually using it. The buttons were a little wonky, and it was all in all somewhat dirty as was to be expected since it was outside, but when he picked up the receiver, he was pleased to find that it did, in fact, actually work. It seemed that he'd gotten lucky for the first time tonight. Well, that wasn't quite true. Depending on your definition of lucky, he'd been nothing but the entire evening. But this was the first time he'd actually gotten lucky in a way that he wanted to be.

"So... Does it work? Or are we going to need to look for another one?"

V looked over his shoulder at his avian companion, nodding in confirmation. The iridescent blue bird seemed to be relieved to hear this news, sighing as he fluttered downward and allowed Sirrus to rest against the edge of the phone booth. Carrying an entire person for long periods of time could be exhausting for him, as their previous exploits had shown. But the last thing that he was going to do was just leave him lying there. He'd continue to carry him. Shadow curled up at the foot of the booth, more hidden in the darkness than Griffon. She needed to rest, too. V patted her gently, grateful for their combined efforts.

A cursory examination of the younger adjudicator showed that he was still breathing, and that the bleeding had seemingly stopped, but that he was still unconscious. He seemed to stir slightly for a moment, his breathing patterns changing ever so slightly as though he'd been disturbed by something, but he did quickly drift back off to sleep, unable to maintain anything even remotely similar to consciousness for the time being. At least he was still somewhat cognizant. As far as V was concerned, that was a huge plus. He could work with that. And even if he wasn't, well... It wasn't like he was going to just leave him out here, was it?

Dialing the phone as quickly as he can manage, V attempted to work with the wonky controls of the old phone booth as best as he could, hoping that the fact that it had a dial tone wasn't its only functionality. He subconsciously held his breath for a moment as he waited to hear the phone actually ring, aware that he didn't have that much change on him to keep trying. It was late. Maybe he could still find a business that was open? He was running out of options, and he couldn't travel a very far distance with an injured person in tow, not to mention that he wanted to be in the best condition himself. But he also refused to leave him. It would be a very bad idea to do that.

But to his relief, seconds later the phone rang and he waited with bated breath as he hoped that someone would actually pick up. He was somewhat sure that he had the right number but less sure that they would actually pick up the phone this time of night. It wasn't that he didn't think anyone would be awake. No, that was a given considering how many people were actually living there. But it wasn't very common for people to just pick up a phone and answer it from an unknown number, and if they had caller ID, then they probably could see that this was just that.

Fortunately, it seemed that the universe was willing to continue to humor him that night as seconds later the phone was picked up off the receiver. A somewhat familiar cheerful voice answered the phone, and it took him several moments of thankful, overwhelmed confusion to realize that he was talking to Hydrangea. Thank goodness, someone that knew him by name.

"You've reached the Ludwig residence. State your name and reason for calling, and I can see if I can get you to the right person."

Slumping over against the wall tiredly, V let out a relieved, exhausted sigh. He'd actually managed to get someone on the phone. Part of him couldn't believe that. "Hydrangea, it's me. V. Please, I think I need your help. Or your mother's help? Regardless, It's Sirrus. And it's not good."

(-~-)

Well, it's good to see that he managed to actually find help! As soon as everyone else gets back, they're going to have quite the situation on their hands. It's time to take the fight to their enemies. No more running and hiding. I'm going to have a blast writing this segment! Well, I've had a blast writing all of it, but you know what I mean!

Let me know what you think in the comments, and I'll see you all next week! Hope everything's been going well for you this week! And thanks for reading! Bye-bye for now! Also, before I go, I wanted to know your opinion on something: would you prefer that I upload chapters for you during the holiday season (Christmas week through to New Year's), Or are you going to be too busy to read during that time? Because if so, I could start squirreling away chapters for you so that you can have something to read, and I don't have to worry about working on them during the hectic holidays! I don't mind, either way, I just want to know what works best for you! See you all on Wednesday!

[backslashdelta]

@mostgeckcellent thank you so much for the tag! This is such a fun tag game! I'm making a new post because this is long and so the post you tagged me in was fairly long as well lol

how many works do you have on AO3?

I have 42 works on AO3 across 2 pseuds! That being said, one of my pseuds is for podfics only (all but one of which are podfics of my own works); the number of works on my main account where I keep all of the written versions of my fics is 33.

what’s your total AO3 word count?

250 307 words :) and I am very proud of all most of them lol

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Only one, and it's Glee. I may or may not branch out in the future, only time will tell ;)

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

It Was Only a Kiss (582 kudos). I think this absolutely deserves to be my top fic, in my opinion. It's my longest work, and it's the piece I worked on the longest, and poured the most of my love into. I'm very very proud of this one. Though, fair warning, it is an anti-Blaine Kurtbastian fic, so to my Klaine followers: you probably don't want to read it. But that's okay. Because lots of other people already have lmao

I Want the World to See You'll Be With Me (116 kudos). A sweet Kurtbastian one-shot I wrote as a Christmas present to @unhappyending last year. I'm surprised to see it so high, because I'm not really a fluff writer and this is unmistakably fluff, but... I guess the Kurtbastian fans love them some fluff!

Notes of an Old Mistake (96 kudos). It's Kurtbastian, it's angst, it's porn with plot! I feel like this fic is one of the most me things I've ever posted, which is interested since it was a gift to @pouralittlewater and very much based on what she wanted written. Guess we have similar tastes!

A Rush of Blood to the Head (76 kudos). The first pwp I ever posted, a Kurtbastian vampire!Sebastian halloween one-shot. Iconic of that to be this far up the list honestly.

The Hazards of Love 1 (68 kudos). This fic is what really got me in to writing. It's ~50k words, my second-longest fic to date, and it means a lot to me. There are some things in it that I'm iffy about, but also some scenes that I really, really love, and are very dear to my heart. When I started posting it, I didn't think anyway would read it because of the premise. Apparently I was wrong.

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes. I always respond to the first comment someone leaves on any of my fics, or any chapter of one of my fics, if it's a main comment. Sometimes people will reply to my reply, or reply to another commentor, and in those cases I don't always respond, but otherwise I do; if someone binged one of my multichaps and left a comment on every chapter, I will respond to every single one.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

This is an easy tie between He Forgets Me, He Forgets Me Not and Never Ask For Anyone But You (a birthday gift for @unhappyending), both of which end with the death of one of the main characters; in the first, the final scene is a funeral where it's revealed that the character has died, and in the second, the actual scene where the death occurs is described (though it could be left up to interpretation whether the character actually does pass away).

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not, but I have an idea for one that I might eventually write...

have you ever received hate on a fic?

I received a hateful review on FFN once, but it was clearly spam. Other than that, the closest I've gotten to hate has been someone asking me to go a different direction with a fic after I had already made my intentions clear; if that's the worst I have to deal with, I am very happy. Especially since there are a lot of things I write about that some people may have a problem with lol

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Girl yes. I've already linked 3 explicit fics in this post lmao who am I if not a smut writer?

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't! I'd love to translate my own fics into French though. I think that would be cool. My French is not good enough unfortunately, but maybe someday if I ever make an effort to improve it.

have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have! Last Christmas @unhappyending and I (KC you're getting tagged A LOT in this post lol sorry) co-wrote the Kurtbastian 2020 Advent Calendar. We posted one chapter per day starting on December first and leading all the way up to Christmas Day (inclusive). It was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun! I also recorded the podfic :)

what’s your all time favourite ship?

Kurtbastian. I'm a huge multi-shipper, as we all know, but Kurtbastian is where my heart truly lies.

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow. This was originally a one-shot for @blangstydays, and then I decided to write another chapter, and now it's sitting there as a WIP on AO3 and I never think about it and will probably never finish it. Oops, sorry.

what are your writing strengths?

I think my biggest strengths are a) dialogue, and b) describing a character's internal thoughts/logic/whatever. These are kind of tied together; essentially, I just think I'm good at getting into the character's head and really being able to put into words what they would think and say in a way that feels authentic to them.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Right now my biggest weakness is having the motivation to write. But when I do have the motivation, my biggest weakness is probably transitioning between scenes, or scenes that don't feature much dialogue. I'm just... not the best at describing things, imo. I also don't think I'm great at scenes with a lot of people; I don't know what to do with all of them, and even if I do, I can have a hard time getting into the heads of that many different people for the same scene.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think I've written maybe a few words in French, but only because I know a little bit of the language. I wouldn't write anything substantial in another language unless I had someone who knew that language and was willing to proof-read it for me. In general, I don't think I have an issue with it. I'd have to translate it if I was reading it in a fic. I don't know, it's not something I've given much thought to.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Glee. The first and only <3

what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

The answer to this is easily It Was Only a Kiss. I have some other one-shots that have a special place in my heart, by IWOAK will forever and always be my baby, and I am so glad she gets the love she deserves in the form of hits/kudos/comments <3

Time to tag some of my writer friends! @unhappyending (figured I should tag you in this post one more time lol), @esperantoauthor, @20xbetterthanu, @awkwardcaterpillar, @useless-fanfictions, @blangstydays, and anyone else who wants to do this please feel free to do so and tag me, I'd love to read your answers!

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober Thirty-One

On Halloween night, at a costume party on the edge of town, you find a Lost Boy to keep you company.

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, vampire Mirio, drinking, mentions of smoking, blood, vampirism, deception, a little bit of mindfuckery and manipulation.

Notes: This is it, folks! Day thirty-one of Kinktober is here and with it, a very special little Halloween fic. Today’s prompt was “Dressed Up,” which I sort of did but also sorta didn’t.

This one is a little bit longer than my usual Kinktober fare, (~3.4k) but hopefully it’ll be worth the ride. It’s also, in the spirit of Halloween, a little on the darker side, so please do heed the warnings and don’t be afraid to skip this one if spooky stuff isn’t your thing.

This hmmmm didn’t show up in the tags when I posted it this aft (even though I couldn’ve sworn it did :C) soooo reuploading! gotta love tumblr

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s a bright, cold, clear Halloween night, and the parties are in full swing.

You’re at the only decent bar in town. Just like every other joint within a hundred-mile radius, tonight they’re throwing a costume party. Originally, you showed up with a friend, but she’s long gone now- drifted off with some punk sporting a chintzy werewolf costume. Ears covered in plastic fur, limp tail dangling from the back of his coat.

Whatever. At least she managed to find something fun to do.

You’re dressed like an angel, in a delicate white slip with feathered wings spreading from your back. In lieu of a real halo you’re wearing a dainty silver circlet. You’re sipping punch- pumpkin punch, says the chalkboard signs pinned up all over the bar- but to you, it tastes like vodka and orange-dyed sugar.

At least you can confirm it’s alcoholic.

You don’t recognize the song that’s thrumming through the rented, oversized party speakers, but it’s sort of catchy. You’re tapping your foot to the beat- or maybe you’re just jonesing- when there’s a lull in the surge of the crowd and you see him.

He’s a complete stranger to you- a rare commodity, in your isolated little town. He seems to tower above the other patrons, standing a head taller than most of the men on the dance floor. It’s humid and sticky inside the crowded party, but he’s wearing a leather jacket with the collar popped. His hair is a shock of mussed gold, and you almost miss the glint of a dangly earring in his right lobe.

He’s got something red smeared across one corner of his mouth. Fake blood, maybe? You’d like to find out.

His eyes are dark and deep. You know they are, because he’s staring intently at you, right across the party. Like he’s spotted you through the skulls of the crowd that separates you. Your gaze is drawn by his steady eyes. It feels like he’s not even blinking when you share a look.

You glance away. But he’s still looking- you can feel the pull of his gaze like a magnet. You lift your syrupy punch to your lips as you drag your eyes to the opposite side of the room.

No dice. When you look across at him again, he’s still there. Still looking.

The crowd passes between you. And when you find that empty spot on the bar, heavy disappointment settles into your gut. That’s what you get for wanting a little excitement.

“Hey.”

The low, unfamiliar rumble of a voice directly behind you shocks the base of your spine. You whip around with the weight of your wings bobbing against their elastic shoulder straps.

He’s even taller than you realized up close. His eyes still have that dark edge to them, but he’s grinning now. That’s not an expression you might have imagined him capable of, given the solemn way he’d stared across the bar at you.

His teeth are immaculate. He seems entirely flawless. You’re pretty sure you could cut your fingers on the sharp corners of his jaw.

“Vampire,” you quip, homing in on the smudge beneath his lip. “Very original.”

It’s definitely supposed to be fake blood. The leather jacket and dangly earring might not be a dead giveaway to anybody else, but it’s working for you.

He slips one hand into the pocket of his jeans, shooting you a low chuckle and a quiet little smirk. He reaches for you- you flinch, wings giving a telltale twitch as your shoulders bob. He catches the edge of one synthetic feather between his fingers and gives it a little rub.

“Almost as original as you, angel,” he teases. You can’t bring yourself to roll your eyes.

There’s something about him that makes everything feel more sincere than usual. He’s got an easygoing, sunny disposition, but he’s intoxicating to look at. The closer you stand, the headier you feel.

You put your cup down on the bar behind you, having had more than your fair share of vodka-with-orange-Jello-crystals Halloween punch.

“So, angel,” the vampire sighs. Both hands are in his pockets now, forcing you to come to terms with the broadness of his chest. He’s built like a brick wall, but it’s all firm muscle underneath his tight t-shirt.

Your chest goes tight as he digs one palm out of his pocket, extending it to you.

“How ‘bout a dance?”

You can’t turn him down. You can’t say anything, since your voice has died somewhere in the cavity of your chest. All you can do is give a muted little nod and slide your fingers into his.

His palm is devastatingly smooth and brisk to the touch. It’s impossible to picture anything cool at all, stuck under the relentless lights of the bar and crowded among so many sweaty, polyester-clad partygoers.

When he pulls you onto the floor, his body trickles over yours like water.

He holds you so delicately, and yet pulls you so close. Lifts your hands between his palms-massive- and draws you in by the waist.

You’d dare to say he’s graceful, dancing to the uneven beat of The Time Warp and Thriller and a half-dozen other songs that are only catchy through the month of October. His leather jacket is supple and soft beneath your touch, and you’re happy to finger the sleeves, grip the lapels as you sway and swirl.

He doesn’t pull his eyes from you once. Again, you’re overcome by that strange sensation. Like he hasn’t blinked the whole time. You can’t quite bring yourself to be freaked out by it.

“So,” you gasp, breathless and sweating by the time the music dulls enough to warrant conversation. “It’s not every day you meet a guy who can dance like that. You gonna tell me where you picked up your tricks?”

He laughs. It’s a rich, full sound, but musical. Enchanting. You’re spellbound by everything about him.

He seems entirely too good to be true. You’re just waiting to find out how.

“Practice,” he gushes, slipping a hand under your chin. You’re smiling. You’re woozy. He’s drawing you in.

He kisses you, so soft and unassuming you’re surprised he didn’t ask your permission first. His lips are as cool as his hands are, fresh and soft like a smooth mountain lake.

You dive in.

You kiss him back as best you can, twining your arms around his neck and letting him drag you close. The longer he kisses you, the hazier you feel, but there’s a taste of something on his tongue that you can’t quite figure out, and you’re determined to find out what it is.

Your vampire tangles his fingers in your hair and wrenches your mouth to his. He kisses you harder, bruisingly so, sucking and biting at your lower lip and pulling away, garishly wiping the back of his palm across his mouth.

“Come home with me,” he croons. He could have asked anything of you. Your response would have been the same.

You turn a vacant, woozy stare to him with the sound of his voice swimming in your ears. Your eyelashes bat heavily. You smile.

“Okay.”

He takes you to find your jacket, thrown over a stool somewhere. You shrug out of your wings and tuck them tightly against your chest. When you do, he eyes you with a sideways little grin.

“Damn,” he teases. “I thought those were real.”

You duck out of the place with his arm slung around your shoulders like he knows you.

The cold outside does nothing to sober you, but full moon is so bright, the cars in the parking lot cast stark shadows across the gravel. So bright, the light of the stars is drowned by it.

He leads you to a shiny Harley, parked in the last spot next to the grass.

“Whoa.”

Your vampire turns, eyebrow cocked. You realize you said that out loud. You also realize that you’ve never actually been on a motorcycle before.

“That… that’s yours?” You ask dumbly. He smirks, and your stomach goes icy.

“Hop on.”

He produces a glossy black helmet from somewhere along the bike’s gunmetal chassis and passes it to you. You slip it down over your head. The thick padding pushes your circlet painfully against your forehead. You’re sure it won’t be a long ride, though.

He stoops, reaching for your throat. For an instant you flinch, but as his fingertips brush the underside of your chin, you realize what he’s doing. You flush with heat.

He buckles the strap securely beneath your chin, making sure it’s tightened properly. His flaxen lashes give a little flutter as he finds your eyes, and he gives the side of the helmet an affectionate little tap.

You swing one leg over the rear of the bike seat as he climbs on in front of you. The leather presses cold and firm between your bare thighs. You slide a hand self-consciously over your back, making sure your dress gets tucked underneath your pelvis.

All good.

“Hold on tight,” he prompts, kicking the bike off its stand and starting the engine with a noisy rumble. You fall forward against his solid back- stronger than you anticipated- and wrap your arms firmly around his waist.

Your heart beats low and warm against his back, so solid you’re sure he can hear it. He peels out of the parking lot and onto the empty highway, and you close your eyes, warm and dark in the safety of your massive helmet.

There’s something immensely thrilling about the way the wind whips past your legs and through your clothing. It occurs to you just how stupid you are, climbing onto the back of a motorcycle with a man whose name you don’t even know.

Holy shit. You don’t even know his name.

When he pulls into the parking lot of the Day ‘n Night Motel on the edge of the highway, you don’t think to ask.

“This doesn’t look like home,” you brush. You fumble to get the strap of your helmet undone and tug it straight off your head. Your halo comes with it, bouncing across the pavement and rolling to a stop at his feet.

“It’s home for now,” he replies as he stoops. He picks the silver circlet up in both hands and presents it to you like a crown. You take it, self-conscious but not quite unsettled. There’s something about him that doesn’t seem to let you get that far.

He takes you up to the second floor and unlocks a door somewhere along the middle, shouldering it inwards. You feel a strange sort of comfort as you step over the threshold. You glance behind you, like the rest of the world might have been swallowed up as soon as you followed him.

But it’s still there. It even stays when you nudge the door closed behind you.

The curtains are drawn tightly shut, but he leaves you to throw them open now, letting silvery moonlight spill through the dirty glass like mercury.

“Let me have you,” he rasps as he comes back to you. He’s shrugging out of his jacket- his arms are way bigger than you anticipated- and he’s pulling you tightly to him. “Let me have you, let me taste you, let me wreck you, angel.”

“Okay,” you gasp. The only word you seem to manage with him around.

He kisses you just like he did at the bar, tight and urgent and needy and bruising. He walks you toward the bed, laying you down in a stark, gentle contrast to the rough way he’s kissing you.

Your coat’s fallen open and he helps you out of it, letting the fabric spread beneath you like a cloak. He doesn’t waste time at all- kissing his way down the curve of your jaw and pushing his palms under the hem of your dress.

Your skin is chilled from the wind, but it warms quickly beneath his cold fingers. You part your legs and he snags the top of your panties, tugging them harshly down your thighs. He discards them quickly and comes back to you, burying his face into the apex of your thighs.

“Oh!”

His tongue is surprisingly cool as he swipes it along your slit, but he’s gentle and attentive with his mouth, and you tangle your fingers eagerly into his mussed hair. Your pinky brushes over the edge of his pointy little earring as it bobs against his neck, and you let your head fall back against the mattress so you can lose yourself in the pleasure he offers you.

He braces icy palms against your thighs- sending goosebumps racing up your legs- and keeps his head buried beneath your skirt as he eats you out furiously. His tongue swirls coolly around the nub of your clit, then flicks it deftly.

“Stop,” you gasp, toes curling tightly in the blankets. “Please, I-I’ll…” You trail off. You can’t hold out any longer. But he heeds your warning and draws back from your body, licking his lips garishly.

There’s a carnal glint in his navy gaze that sets your nerves alight as he crawls atop your body. At some point, he’s shed his clothes- you didn’t even see him strip- but he’s wearing only a pair of tight black undershorts, and his cock stands prominently against the front of them, hard and heavy across one thigh.

“Angel,” he rasps, bending over your torso. He nuzzles the crook of your neck, nosing at your pulse point as he nibbles your flesh. For the first time he seems to lose himself, blowing a deep huff over your chest and shivering hard as his hips rock forward into yours.

“Let me feel you. Let me fuck you.” He growls. Unbridled and feral.

You tug furiously at the hem of your dress.

“Take it off,” you insist. He wedges his palms beneath the flimsy fabric, tearing a new slit up the side of the skirt in his haste to get it off you. But you’re not paying attention. You’re consumed by him. Drowned by him. In this moment, he is all you’ve ever needed.

He strips out of his shorts and comes back to you bare, palming the base of his thick shaft. He settles between your thighs and draws a thumb up your slit. Your body sings. You gasp.

A dull chill settles over your body as he lines himself up.

He slides home in one easy stroke, composed all over again as you fall to pieces beneath him. As he starts to fuck you- smooth, steady, easy- he gives you nothing more than soft huffs of effort. He’s thick and stretches you well, but his body seems to flow in and out of yours like a river. His touch spreads cool relief through your gut.

“There you go, angel,” he rumbles into your ear. He braces a hand on your belly, rutting into you and letting the gentle slap of your flesh punctuate every thrust.

Beneath him, you’re a mess. The pleasure is more than you’re prepared to handle. With every push of his hips, you feel yourself falling deeper and harder. You don’t even know his name, but with him stroking your side so tenderly, it feels like you could love him.

Somewhere along the way, his rhythm shifts. He becomes wild and brutal and relentless, fucking you deep and hard. You relish in the way the bed creaks beneath you. You cling tightly to him, mewling and howling your overstimulated pleasure into the night. Your nails rake hard over his back as you hit your peak with sobs of tight ecstasy.

Your pussy clamps down hard around his cock and he fucks you through it, pushing you further and further until you come apart, a trembling mess in his arms.

With a feral roar he draws himself back from you suddenly, spilling sticky spurts of cum across your belly and over your chest.

Your eyelashes flutter open. He’s staring down at you, cupping your cheek with that same intense look from the bar. You blink, letting your brain swim back to life.

“Your fangs,” you gasp, noticing the sharp glints as they protrude from the underside of his lip. You chuckle. “You never took them off?”

You reach up, thumbing the edge of his jaw. They align seamlessly with the rest of his teeth. The fact that they didn’t pop out on their own is impressive, if a bit strange.

“They’re good,” you confess. “They look real.”

He purses his lips tightly shut and folds his body over yours. He finds the curve of your jaw and nuzzles it. Finds the bare thrum of your pulse point and tongues it. He grins. You feel the sharp point of them against your skin- strong, surprisingly so.

He snarls.

“They are.”

You’re blinded by pain before another thought can cross you. He sinks his fangs into the flesh of your neck and you scream, clinging and clawing at his back. But he’s strong, inhumanly so, and his grip is iron as he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head. He’s patient, holding you fast.

There’s an ecstatic, heady sort of bliss bleeding about the edges of your suffering. You thrash and struggle, but eventually, you succumb to it. It’s sweet and distant and so, so, serene, and as he pulls his fangs from your neck and licks tenderly at the wound, it lingers.

“That’s it, angel,” he sooths. “That’s it. C’mere.”

He slides a hand under your back and lays you properly against the pillows. He smooths his palm over your forehead, tugging the sheets over your bare body. His face is doubled in your vision, but his lips and chin are stained garishly red. His fangs are even longer than before, but his dark gaze is peaceful.

“Sleep for me, angel,” he croons. He smooths your hair, and you’re too far gone not to listen.

When you come to, the room is empty. There’s a motel-issued glass sitting on the nightstand, filled with a thick liquid like raspberry compote.

It’s still dark out. The pain in your neck and shoulder is immense. You bolt upright, remembering all at once where you are. What you’ve seen.

It can’t have been. Your fingertips scrabble over your neck. The wounds are already starting to scar.

So it was.

You climb cautiously out of bed, grabbing your dress and hugging it tightly to his chest. The bathroom door is open and the lights are out, but you poke your head in anyway. He’s not there.

You tug the dress violently over your head. The fabric is split almost to your hip, but your jacket’ll cover it. With your shoes clutched tightly in your hand, you make for the door while you still can.

The filled glass stares from over your shoulder, halting your hand on the knob. You turn slowly toward it. Your limbs go cold.

You know what it is.

That doesn’t stop you from craving it.

You can smell it from here, sweet, rich, irresistible. You lick your dry lips and press your back hard against the door.

It’s not too late. You can leave. Right now. You can make it home, you can call somebody, you can get out.

You’re not going to.

In two strong steps, you cross the room. You grab the glass so quickly and so firmly that it cracks in your hand, but it does not shatter.

The blood of your vampire is just as sweet as you’d hoped. You take long, desperate gulps, draining the glass in an instant and swiping your palm across your stained mouth.

The door to the room sweeps open behind you. With the empty glass in your hand you whip around to face it, paralyzed and half-caught in desperate bliss.

“Angel,” he purrs. He smooths a hand over his hair and kicks the door shut with a hollow thud. He grins wickedly at you, setting ice and cool, firm desire into the deepest reaches of your heart.

“I’m so glad you decided to join me.”

[emsylcatac]

Oh man, really appreciating the extra French cultural insight on ML, so thank you for all of your elucidating! Have you made any posts covering common school events/milestones, and/or how teens tend to celebrate holidays in Paris? I know exams are different and that proms aren't really a thing, and the show has given us some insight into field trips (not too different), but do you know of anything else fandom tends to miss?

Heya!! :D

Thanks for your feedback & you’re very welcome!!

I haven’t done any post regarding school events or holidays yet, so let’s do that now!

School events/milestones:

First just a quick explanation of the French scholar system:

Maternelle (= Kindergarten): 3 years, from 3-4yo to 5-6yo – Petite section · Moyenne section · Grande section

Primaire (= Primary school): 5 years, from 6-7yo to 10-11yo – CP · CE1 · CE2 · CM1 · CM2

Collège (= Secondary school | Junior high school): 4 years, from 11-12yo to 14-15yo – 6ème (said sixième) · 5ème (cinquième) · 4ème (quatrième) · 3ème (troisième) – school start around 8:30am and ends around 4:30pm, with 1h lunch-break and 15min break in the morning & afternoon. – except on Wednesday ends around 11:30 or 12:30.

Lycée (= High school): 3 years, from 15-16yo to 17-18yo – 2nd (said seconde) · 1ère (première) · Tale (terminale) – Same about breaks & lunch breaks & start of school, but usually ends around 5:30pm. – except on Wednesday ends around 11:30 or 12:30 (or if you’re unlucky like I was the school organises exams on Wednesday afternoon from 2 to 4h straight but most schools have free Wednesdays afternoon)

Currently, Marinette & Adrien are in their finale year of ‘collège’ so in ‘3ème’ (called ‘troisème’).

So about major end-of the year exams:

End of 3ème (around the end of June usually): ‘Brevet’ – it’s a national exam and every student in the whole France have the same examination questions. They have to revise courses they had during the whole year and can be pretty much interrogated on anything they’ve learned. One exam per subject. Writing exam subjects are: French, Mathematics (main ones), History/Geography, Sciences (with Physics/Chemistry and/or Earth&Life Sciences and/or Technology). Added to that, they have an oral exam. It’s about Art History or a project they’ve conducted throughout the year (alone or in groups, however they get an individual score) Side note: this one is pretty ‘easy’ to have and you really need to want to fail to actually fail. It also takes into account the general score you have during the year and allows you to have a few points in advance. For instance, I was a good student and my general score was high enough for me to have enough points to already have the ‘brevet’ before even taking up the exam. It’s usually the case if your general score is equal or above 16/20 I think)

End of Terminale (around mid-June): ‘Baccalauréat’ – it’s again a national exam but much more important. You can’t pursue your studies if you haven’t passed it and will need to repeat the Terminale year. Subjects vary depending the course students chose when they entered their “1ère” year (it’s kind of a lot to explain everything there especially because the system have completely changed this year and teachers & parents are complaining about it, so I’m going to quickly talk about the ‘old’ system where basically you chose between scientific course, economic & social course or arts course; there’s others but those were the main ones). Again, you need to revise everything you’ve learned throughout the year and can be interrogated on anything. There’s writing exams as well as oral exams and practical exams (for sciences).Side note: Contrary to the ‘brevet’ this one is harder to get. I’m not saying it’s super hard, but students with school difficulties can fail even if they worked for it. Only the score you get at this exam is taken into account, not the general score you got during the year so you can’t “have” your Baccalauréat before taking up the exam.

End of 1ère: some exams of the “Baccalauréat” occur in the 1ère year but not a lot as well as a group project.

Proms, holidays & others undercut to avoid long post:

Regarding school proms, we indeed don’t have them as much as people in Canada or the US. It mostly depends of your school: some will organise them at the end of 3ème or Terminale because it’s the end of a ‘cycle’ sort of, but they’re mostly just events with food brought by everyone and music. You rarely have to find a partner to go to a prom with you, except maybe if the school you’re in has decided on that. Some schools don’t organise any.

Other special event that can be organised in your school (and again it depends how strict the director is and all) is carnival. We all come with disguises for the day. My ‘lycée’ was pretty strict about it but we managed to allow it during my finale year and organise a concert during lunch-time. We had to be recognisable though so no full-mask or full-makeup. But the previous years it was forbidden. We didn’t have any carnivals during collège. It again also depends on your school’s policy.

________________

Holidays

We have 4 in-between holidays and one summer holidays:

“Vacances de la Toussaint” (vacances meaning holidays): 2 weeks around end of October & Beginning of November, including the 1st of November. Usually, people tend to stay at home or visit family members that are living far from their home. Some might travel a bit as well but it’s not often. So some teens will visit their friend, maybe celebrate Halloween but Halloween isn’t that big of a thing here and it’s disappearing more and more.

“Vacances de Noël” (= Christmas holidays): 2 weeks including Christmas day and New Year. Mostly spent in family, some might go skiing but it’s rare and there’s less chance to have enough snow for that in the mountains.

“Vacances de Février” (February holidays): 2 weeks in February, sometimes a bit in March; dates change every year because all of the French regions don’t have the same dates for these holidays so teenagers will be in holidays 1st, 2nd or 3rd depending the year & region. Lots of people who can afford it will go skiing in the mountains one week; it’s pretty expensive so not everyone do that but still a lot.

“Vacances de Pâques / vacances de printemps” (Easter holidays / Spring holidays): Again 2 weeks, with dates changing like in February. Mostly around April, sometimes end of March. People tend to stay home or go a bit in the South of France if they can afford it or have enough time where the weather is warmer, some will visit family members, etc.

“Grandes vacances” (= big holidays or as you would say, Summer holidays): Lasts 2 months in July & August. School ends either end of June or beginning of July depending the grade you’re in and the end of the year exams you have, and will start again at the beginning of September. Some teens would go on family holidays somewhere (mostly to the sea or the mountains or abroad), some in summer camps, some would stay at home, some all of those.

Anyway, in all those holidays teens can meet-up and hang-out with their friends, do sleepovers, etc.

________________

School trips

School trips always have a cultural & educational purpose and will depend on the subject they’re being made for. You can visit museums, special cultural or historical places, etc. Most of the time you leave for the day by bus.

In some cases you can do a 3 to 5 days (or more depending your school) trip to another European country like England or Spain or Germany, maybe Italy. Those are opportunities to learn more about the other country’s culture (I know that when we did those trips we stayed in hosting families) learn and speak a bit the language, and learn history of the country depending on the outings of the day.

________________

Anything else fandom tends to miss?

Ok so it could take a lot of time and everything isn’t coming to my mind but one of the main thing I tend to see in fics is “Americanisation” of the French school system if that makes sense. Which is logical because it’s kind of hard to understand how everything works in another country without living in it.

For instance lots of people in fics write things like “they share maths classes together but not French, so Adrien takes Marinette to her class before going to his” and not really: you stay the whole year with the same classmates and share all your courses with them. Only exceptions are if you took some particular options (like someone took Latin and the other took ancient Greek or nothing), or depending the 2nd language you chose to learn (German or Spanish usually but some schools offer more choices). Or if you’re in a practical course, then you class might be split in half but with Marinette & Adrien’s class, they’re already not numerous so I’d say the whole class would share them together.

There’s a lot of other things but they’re not coming to my mind right now or are too long to detail there (for instance what I said above about scientific/economic&social/arts courses), but I’ll make sure to share them if I think about it :)

Thanks for the ask, I hope I answered what you were looking for!! ♥

[digthe60s]

a halloween nightmare, literally

so, as many of you probably saw, on october 28th my account got hacked into the godawful ray-ban shitshow that has been going on on tumblr. i was truly upset because, well, I GOT HACKED, but most of all because this account has a fair share of followers, so i am pretty much certain that at least one person saw the scam posts that were being posted into my account maliciously and obviously without my knowledge - i’m not even kidding, i was literally asleep when all of that was going on, i don’t stay logged in into this account and i don’t always check it like 24/7 - and clicked the link, getting hacked as well. this truly upsets me. those things are a real pain in the ass, and for the first time in my life i experienced this firsthand. 

i contacted @staff as soon as i saw what happened, and i am not joking when i tell you that i cried because of this. i’ve had this blog since 2013, starting when i was 15 years old and going through high school. i fell so deeply in love with the 1960s that i decided i NEEDED to make something to let that show, and also something to call my own. for seven years now, i’ve kept this blog, albeit with periods with inactivity. i had JUST gotten back, after a couple of months of being out of the picture, to creating new content, willing to share with you all. i was especially bummed out because i had planned out a ‘halloween week’ where i would share halloween-themed posts with you guys and we’d just sort of have this little online celebration of our own. obviously that all went ridiculously wrong when i got hacked.

my account got TERMINATED because of the hacking (suspicious activity and all), and i lost all access to it. i was so anxious, sad (i just kept telling everyone who would be willing to listen: “my tumblr got terminated, i don’t know what i’m going to do, i’m so freaking sad”), and scared of losing all my 7 years of blogging, and all of my followers. i genuinely LOVE every single one of you. i’m not even joking or saying this just for saying it or whatever. it literally gave me gut-wrenching anxiety when thinking: what about my followers? they will search for my blog and i’ll just be gone, all of it, gone. 

throughout those seven years, ever since i was just a kid, i’ve been sharing over 14k posts worth of content with all of you, i’ve received your lovely messages, your replies, i’ve heard stories, i’ve been given content for my blogging, i’ve shared things from my very own personal life, i’ve been given support, i’ve been cherished. so many special moments i actually keep in the back of my mind always. i know tumblr has seen brighter days than now but never, once, have i  ever considered deleting this blog. i’ve always thought: i might become inactive, i might stop using it in the long run, but it will ALWAYS, as long as tumblr exists, stay there. 

this blog will ALWAYS remain here for you to browse, look at all the photos/gifs/videos/texts and enjoy them whenever you want. so when i was faced with the possibility of losing all of this, of being ‘gone’ from your screens forever, it literally scared me so much. i was already planning out other things i would have to do to fight this because i was not going down without a fight. this blog is one of my personal projects and something that i honestly feel proud of, of what (even if little) i have somehow managed to accomplish here. 

but above anything else, what has always made me genuinely happy is hearing from you things like “i love your blog” and “your posts make me happy” and “i really enjoy your work here”. EVERY SINGLE TIME, during all of those years, that has made my heart fill with joy and brought a smile to my face, and made me think that i am doing something that, somehow, brought a little joy to someone at a certain point, and that is what always have moved me through it all. 

so this was a super scary situation and occurence for me, and it genuinely made me anxious and scared and sad, because i love this blog and i love all of you and what we have made and shared together for ALMOST a decade now. can you believe it? i don’t think i could ever just accept ‘losing’ all of it and all of you. 

i apologize for what happened, for the inconveniece that it caused, and through it all i was disconcerted and extremely upset, but i am glad that @staff resolved this issue within a day and a half, and i’m so deeply happy that i recuperated my account without further damage. i intend to stay here and to continue to bring content to all of you, who have stayed with me through thick and thin. i love you, and thank you.

[nanamismoonchild]

Result of the Eclipse

Summary: A prophecy that foretold the witches getting the patron of the Moon and her child spurred an uprising between the races of the witches, vampires, and wolves. Jealous rage fueled their fight, and soon the Moon had no choice but to separate the races. 

Pairing: namjoon x reader

Genre et Rating: vampire au, witch au, angst, fluff, mature

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of blood, a really bad spell (i’m sorry) 

A/N: I have not written in a looooong time, so when I started this, I couldn’t stop. I had to force myself to stop so I could work on an important assignment. So this will most definitely have a part 2! This was also part of the halloween event by @heartsforbtsnet​.  

There had been a time where the three races of supernaturals lived together in peace. It was centuries before the crowned prince and goddess met.  Stories were passed down from the old about special gatherings where drunken laughter and the occasional moans resounded through the streets of the town.  

But that was centuries ago and nothing but wild fairy tales to tell the children.  

The fight that ended the harmony between the wolves, the vampires, and the witches was a small but powerful one that would not heal on its own.  

The day the Moon gave herself over to the witches was the day that no one would ever see amity again.  The wolves and the vampires were jealous and jealousy is the ugliest emotion. It can make reckless decisions for oneself. 

“How can the Moon betray us like this? I thought we were her favorite,” the vampires hissed.  

“You? We are born under her light and become even more powerful than we know,” the wolves howled. 

The fighting soon began to become violent between the three races. Witches cast horrible curses to keep themselves safe from the poisonous bite of the vampire and the sharp canines of the wolves.  

The Moon took matters into her own hands and separated the races as sorrowful as it made her. She promised they would be reunited as one again when her princess was born and learned the ways of the witches.  

The vampires and wolves grumpily accepted and built their own cities while the witches prepared for the upcoming Eclipse that would bring them their most powerful goddess. Everything was peaceful.  

But that was centuries ago. 

 Namjoon waddled into his grandmother’s arms and gave her a kiss. He loved hearing the silly stories she told--no matter how sad or frightening they could be.  They were almost always about the old days before he was born. 

Many Eclipses had come and gone through the years he’s been alive, and, yet, no one had announced the new princess. But his grandmother always told him to believe and keep his mind open.  

But he didn’t need her to say that. He knew she was alive and well. And as the five-year-old he was, he just wanted to find her like a game of hiding and seek. He knew he couldn’t leave the cities’ limits though. So he only let himself believe and told no one about his intuition. 

His grandmother sent him to bed and kissed on the cheek. 

“Good night, my little prince. I feel there will be good news for you tomorrow.”

“Well then I need to sleep quickly, so tomorrow can come! Night!”

His grandmother smiled and left the room. Her little one could sleep through the night and even through the morning’s breakfast. There were times he would wake up the very next night and sleep an hour or two later. He was very keen to his vampiric nature even at such a young age. Luckily he had not a thirst for blood as others did.  

 The prince was awake the next morning, as he had promised. The noise level of the castle was more than what he was used to.  The servants were running around with fresh linen and buckets of blood at their side. The rare activity excited the small child at the news his grandmother suggested. 

Bouncing into the dining room for breakfast, he was met with his mother’s and father’s serious faces. Sensing their child, they immediately put smiles on their faces and alerted the kitchen servants. A few minutes later, his plate was piling high with pancakes in the shape of bears and a cup of orange juice.  His parents had tried giving him blood as a supplement to the orange juice, but it disgusted him, and never wanted it again. 

The King and Queen kept smiling at him, their nervous energy unbeknownst to their son. After a few bites, the Queen pushed aside her plate and leaned towards her son. 

“Joonie. We have some big news to tell you!”

Namjoon paused the fork that had a piece of his pancake, and glanced at his mother, “What? Grandmother said it would be good!”

“Well, it is, baby. Good for you..... The Princess has been alive for 6 years! And she is coming to visit us for 2 days.”

“I knew it! So I’ll be able to play with her!”

“You knew?” The King asked.  He peered at his wife, a silent message passing through the both of them. 

“Yes! I’ve also had dreams of her! She’s really pretty!”

“Oh dear. If this means what I think it means…” The Queen trailed off, watching her husband inform the kitchen of the new plan. 

The Princess would not be coming to stay with them. Not now.  

“Another fire, Princess?”

The servant witch stared in shock at the spreading fire you had accidentally started. It was the fourth one today, and, if you were being honest, you thought you were getting better at controlling fire spells.  

“Yes, another one. Will you help me put it out once again before Mother comes?”

The servant nodded and proceeded to recite the spell for you, ending the fire’s spread. Normally, servants were not allowed to use their magic. However, your mother had thought it necessary when emergencies occurred. Emergencies like fires and floods caused by you. 

Sighing deeply, you slumped into your chair, feeling the headache that followed your disasters.  Half of your room was charred and it would take another spell to fix it. Twenty-six years of practicing and you still weren’t able to do the simplest spells without going overboard. 

“Is there anything else you need Princess?”

“I’m fine. Now leave me alone please.”

The servant nodded and left the room, leaving you in complete silence.  

“I bet the other witches don’t have to clean up ashes.”

Your spell book was part of the ash but thankfully you had memorized the spell for cleaning up.

“All right. Not too much and not too little. Just enough,” you recited the spell, closing your eyes not wanting to see the catastrophe that might occur. 

When nothing could be heard, you opened them and let out a happy wheeze. Your room was clean and your possessions were in one piece again. 

“Success! Finally!”

You were definitely getting better. 

A knock on your door interrupted your silent celebration.  

“Come in!” Your mother, the Moon, walked in and took note of your happy form.  “I assume you did not cause another fire?”

“Ah...No. However, I did manage to clean up the mess myself. “

“You’re getting better! The servants told me the fire was spreading on half of your room.”

You smiled at the praise, striding over to her and giving her a warm hug. 

“I missed you.”

“As I missed you. Your father likes to be prepared for Eclipses even though we’ve done them countless times. One of those Eclipses even brought you into the world.” “Mother, I have heard the story before and I do not wish to hear it again. Please save me my innocent ears.”

“Innocent?” Your mother chortled. “Sweetheart, I have seen you ogling the male witches. You may even have a crush on one if I remember correctly. Oh, what is his name?”

“Seokjin! And he is only a friend. I have no romantic feelings towards him. You should know this after you snuck into my artbook!”

“I did not sneak into it. It was lying open and I peeked at it.  Very...detailed,” your mother raised her eyebrows knowingly. 

You shook your head and made your way over to the cursed book in question. It was true. The man you had been drawing since you could dream was etched into your artbook. You had no idea who he might be, but you knew he was a vampire. 

Flipping to a page where you knew his smile was prominent, you noted the details of his dimples and how his fangs were not as sharp as the vampires you had met. 

“Very handsome indeed.” Your mother’s soft voice surprised you causing you to jump and drop the book. 

The page it landed on was of a full body portrait. It was of the unnamed man standing in front of giant double doors with a suit on. His expression was grave, drawing it had made you worry for the man.  

The Moon picked up the book, studying the details. 

“Oh,” she gasped. “ I recognize this crest. It’s of the royal vampires. He must be part of the family.”

“There are royal vampires?”

“Yes. Do you remember when you were six years old? We were preparing for you to spend a couple of days there.” A sad smile formed on your mother’s face.  “However, they cancelled suddenly. And I may have a clue as to why now.” “You think it has something to do with me and my dreams?”

“I know it. Remember the stories I used to tell you.”

You remembered clearly. Your mother was the Moon and had ultimately stopped a war by sending the three major races of supernaturals to separate parts of the kingdom. Only her unborn child, you, could reunite them if you found the one you loved.  How would the vampire royalty figure out their son was your true prince? “Could he be dreaming of me as well?” The thought of the man seeing you as you saw him made a rush of blood warm your cheeks. 

“It’s possible. I would say we visit them as a surprise, but there still may be wounds that have not been cared for yet. They would not like to see me.”

You understood her words. Your mother’s reasoning behind choosing the witches as her patrons was a reasonable one, but the vampires and the wolves would not hear of it.  The vampires were too selfish and the wolves were too prideful.  

“You’re too kind for them anyway. I wouldn’t want a prince who turns his back on my mother,” you took the artbook from her and closed it with a huff.  

Grinning, you poke your spellbook open to the spell you had been practicing for the past few days. 

“Invisibility? What pranks are you trying to pull now?”

“Oh nothing Mother. I just want to show you”

“Well then. Go ahead.” 

Letting out a deep breath, you spoke the words, feeling a rush of wind flow through you.

As you opened your eyes, you looked in the mirror and your shoulders fell. It had not worked again.

Your mother started chuckling, trying to stop herself from laughing uncontrollably. 

Annoyed, you ask, “What is so funny?”

“You recited the wrong spell. I believe the spell you did was the floating one.” She pulled the book towards her and nodded. 

Confused, you looked down and gasped. You were floating. How had you not realized the first couple of times? 

“Fuck.”

“Language,” the Moon called out between breaths of laughter. 

“You aren’t supposed to laugh at me, I put all the effort into this!”

“I think your effort is top tier, my dear. But please, can we go to the right spell?”

After a few hours of practicing several of your weakest spells, you were allowed to venture into the garden. Your favorite place in the entire kingdom.  It was in the middle of the city and grew every single sort of flower anyone could imagine. You treasured the zinnias the most. They represented remembering or thinking of one’s friends or lovers. Ever since you first dreamed of the man, you were always thinking of him. 

You had recognized the crest, and your mother’s affirmation only proved that you needed to do something wild and forbidden. 

Picking a bouquet of the zinnias, along with a few others, you place them into a basket and draw the cloak you had brought along with you over your head. 

Reciting the invisibility spell, you felt the same woosh of wind from earlier. It was an odd feeling spreading through your body. But you knew it had worked when a servant came whistling around the corner and didn’t double take at your appearance. 

The city of the vampires, which you had learned was called Saorsa, was only beyond the limits of your kingdom.  It would be almost an hour’s trip by walking. You didn’t plan on walking as your dainty feet wouldn’t last that long, so you opted for the enjoyable version. 

Seokjin was waiting for you at the beginning of the forest line. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking around every so often for anyone that would think he was suspicious.

“Seokjin, you’re doing this for Y/N. Get it together.” 

He heard the bush rattling, and glanced over to it.  

“Y/N? Princess? Is that you?” “Yes!” You said behind the frightened man.  

Jumping back a few feet, your friend let out a yelp. His handsome face scrunching in fear. 

Laughing, you come out of your invisibility and raise the hood of your cloak. “My friend you are such a scaredy-cat. How will you survive encounters with the vampires?”

“By not interacting with them Princess,” he scolded. He took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. “Now let’s go ahead and get this over with. Remember what we practiced? I do not want to be turned into a rat again.”

“I can do it this time. I’ve even mastered the fire spell you taught me.”

“I heard your room went ablaze again.”

“I call that progress Seokjin.”

Seokjin laughed and stood back. 

You spoke the spell excitedly, watching as your friend transformed from a handsome man into a gorgeous brown horse. 

He neighed, stomping his foot in hurrah at the success of your spell. 

“Yes! Let’s go. Let me hop on!”

Hopping up to the horse’s back was a trial but you managed it by grabbing his mane, a little huff coming from him, and lifting your leg as far as it could go. Clutching onto his mane, you steadied yourself and took at the dense forest. 

Not a soul could stop you from meeting the man that captivated your thoughts.  

“Seokjin, I think we’re almost there! I can see the castle from here!” 

The hour’s walk had turned into a mere thirty minutes with the quickness of Seokjin’s hooves and a little magic.

The home of the vampires was close as the outline of the foreboding outline of the caste. The stark difference of your home and the vampire’s was colour; there seemed to be a lack of colour. Your mother had always told you vampires loved the darkness, which is why they loved her so much.  However, you had never thought it true. Who wouldn’t love to see colours pink, red, and yellow? The grey and black was hideous in your eyes. You could only hope that the man, who you now assumed was a prince, loved colours as much as you did.  

The tree line was slowly leading to a row of houses and you sensed that you would have to cloak soon.  

You had never practiced with two people--let alone a horse--so you could only pray to the Moon that it worked.  

Before you could try, Seokjin abruptly launched you into the air. Landing with an unprincess-like grunt a few feet from him, you make out Seokjin’s broad figure laying unmoving. A figure appeared from the shadows, blood dripping down their neck as they kneeled next to you. 

Whimpering, you tried to move away, but the sting of your broken leg kept you still. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”the figure cursed. 

Your vision was blurring, and you could almost hear your mother say, “Language.”

The moonlight that spilled onto your face was almost blinding. Blinking a few times, you manage to register that you were on a bed with silk sheets draped across your body.  Foreign, yet it was warm and comfortable. 

You had no recollection of being put in bed-let alone being carried to the room. There wasn’t a clock on the stand next to you, but you knew it had to be close to midnight. You weren’t too sure of the day. 

The throbbing in your leg was barely noticeable as you sat up to collect your thoughts and survey the rest of the room.  The only light in the room came from the Moon, giving you a little bit of calmness. Your mother was watching in spirit.  

Seokjin wasn’t in the room with you. You could only hope he was fine. His unmoving body was singed in your mind and the guilt was slowly beginning to take over you. It had been your idea to use him as a horse to travel to the unknown land of the vampires. Unfortunately, it seemed only disaster struck as soon as you reached the city. The figure, that you assumed was a vampire, must have carried you here.  He seemed to be frantic once he realized what he had done.  Maybe Seokjin was here as well being taken care of. 

Wiping away the tears that slipped from your eyes, you stood up testing the weight of your legs. The pain was minimal and manageable. You presumed that it had been broken, perhaps it was only sprained. Opening the door of the room, you peek out into the hall that appeared to only house your room.  

“Hello?” your question echoed through the hall.  

No one answered so you stepped out into the hallway, letting the door close behind you.   

  There were no audible or visual signs that anyone was nearby. Just the soft steps of your feet as you made your way towards the staircase at the end of the hallway.  The stairs were dark, the moonlight not being able to reach it from the windows. There was only one spell you knew that could provide a light for you, but it was the cause for most of the fires in your room. 

“Can’t hurt to try. And if it does go ablaze, perhaps someone would smell it and come!” Your mother had told you optimism was one of your best gifts, and you intended to use it in this strange place.  

“ Light is what I need,

To guide my way through the dark

Just a little to lead.”

 Feeling your palm warming, you opened it, smiling at the little ball of light that hovered in your hand. 

“Finally!”

You let yourself gloat for a second before continuing up the stairs. They wound up several stories to a heavy door.  Pushing it brought you no success, and knocking on it would only hurt. You had no choice but to use your magic to open it--not that you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to practice. 

The heavy door exploded open with your spell; the sound of it slamming against the wall should have been loud enough to alert anyone lurking. When no one seemed to be making their way to you, you continued your self-guided tour of your containment. 

“Where is everyone?”

Your home was always bustling with activity, day and night. From the stories your mother and father told you, you had expected vampires to be awake at night when the Moon was at her highest.  Mayhaps they slept through the night to dishonour her. Your mother did say the wounds had not healed though it was centuries before you were born.  

Perhaps your Prince would want to change that. 

There was another set of stairs that went up for several stories. They had put you in the lowest part of the castle. At least you surmised it was the castle, there was no other possible reason why a house would have two basements. 

At the next door, you could hear the clear, distinct sounds of laughter and clinking glasses greeted you. 

Delighted to finally have a form of contact, you quickly cast the spell to open the heavy door, announcing your presence to the entire kitchen. 

Three servants gasped at your appearance, dropping a few of the goblets and plates. 

“H-hi? I’m from-”

“Witch,” one of the servants hissed. 

Their fangs lengthened as they circled you. 

“Please. I do not come to harm you,” you backed up against the door, arms in front of you as a sign of peace.  “But I will if you come any closer.”

They all laughed at your words--the threat doing nothing to them.  

“The ugly witch threatens us?”

“Where did she even come from?”

“The dungeons perhaps?”

You whimpered, not understanding what you needed to do to escape the wrath of the servants. Magic seemed to be the only wrong answer.  Harming them was not something you wanted to do. 

“I am your future Goddess. My name is Y/N! Daughter of the Moon and the Sun.”

They laughed again. The old wrenches caring only about draining you. 

“We do not care about your mother. She betrayed us long ago.”

“I’m sorry for what she did, but you deserved it. You hurt the witches because of your people’s jealous rage. You’re lucky she didn’t take away your existence completely.” You had no idea where the confidence to say the things that were always hiding in the back of your mind. Your mother had regretted the decision to separate the races for centuries, and there was no reason for her to continue to have a contrite heart any longer. 

The vampires hesitated for a second only to continue their dance towards you.  

“Strong words coming from a witch,” they all hissed. 

“Strong words coming from my guest, servants,” a powerful voice coming from the doorway. 

All four of you glanced, and your heart sped up. 

It was him.  

He stood regal in the doorway, hands hidden in his suit pocket. His brown hair was messy as if he had just woken up. There was a twitch of annoyance in his grey eyes as he made his over to your shaking body.  

Taking your hands into his, he ran a finger across the skin. A touch of warmth spread across your body and instantly calmed you. 

“Breakfast was supposed to be served minutes ago,” he cast a look at the servants who had since backed away from you. “And then I hear the voice of our guest trembling in fear. How do you think that makes me  feel?” “We are sorry, Your Highness.”

“Yes very.”

“Saying sorry isn’t enough sometimes, isn’t it? You should all be aware of this as the Moon herself has said it countless times, and what did your families do?”

You had no idea what was happening between the four of them, but your Prince certainly had leverage.  

The servants bowed in submission to their Prince and scurried away. 

He turned towards you and caressed your cheek; his face turning into one of elation, “I cannot believe you’re actually here.”

“I cannot believe it either. I had a rather unfortunate welcome.”

“I know. And for that I’m sorry. Taehyung thought it was someone coming to attack us. He’s our best soldier and uses his fangs first before thinking. “

Frowning, you asked, “And what of my friend? Seokjin? He was a horse before he was forcefully turned back. The last I saw him...he was not moving and your “best” soldier wore his blood on his face.”

The Prince grimaced, your tone not something he wished to hear again. “He’s safe. Recuperating in the infirmary. He passed out from being forced to turn into a human and from the little nick of blood Taehyung took. He seems to be afraid of his own blood.”

Satisfied with his answer and the safety of  Seokjin, you lean into his chest, wanting to be close to him. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”

You giggled, “All of my dreams of you, and not one of them ever told me your name.”

“Mine did. Welcome to my home, Y/N.” 

[halfgclden]

EPISODE 32: A MAJOR OCCURANCE

The sound of spooky intro music plays and fades out. As the microphone clicks on, faint sounds of water and traffic can be heard in the background.

JADE: Hello cryptwizzlers, cryptrackers, but never cryptormentors because we’re all friends here. Welcome to a very special episode of Cryptwins in which we are not actually researching a cryptid. But! Before you shut this off and call us hacks, we are instead researching the recent disappearance of social media fitness guru; Edison Major.

More spooky music plays. There is also the sound of fingers tapping a rhythm. It's typical Joel, unable to contain his energy as he taps the dashboard in time with their intro music.

JOEL: Weeeeeeeell...Maybe we are hacks. —a pause as he laughs— Nah, just kidding. This is the real deal. I'm not sure you're ready for this. This is some spooky, and excuse my French, spooky shit. Tell us more about this Major disappearance? —another laugh— Get it?

JADE: [A short laugh-sigh is let out at Joel’s joke.] Okay, before we begin, two things. One, get ready for the barrage of major and minor jokes, courtesy of Joel here.

JOEL: Got a whole list, be ready! He lets Jade finish, but listeners can still hear the tapping sound while she speaks.

JADE: Secondly, we’re still on the road here, so if the audio is bad or choppy... deal with it? —another small laugh— Anyyyyway. Spooky is right. This all began in September of last year, when @majored posted a picture of himself in a dark basement wearing a weird costume and then immediately went off the grid. And, you know, I’m all for a social media cleanse, people do it all the time. Buuut, what really brought this to our attention was a month later, on Halloween Eve of all nights, when a video popped up of him getting his ass kicked by someone in a Kakashi Hatake costume.

JOEL: Now, I know y'all are asking yourselves "Isn't he a fitness guru? Why was some weeb kickin' his ass?" And to that I say hey! Some weebs are strong, some are Super Saiyan, and others are Kakashi Hatake, the most talented ninja in Konohagukure.

JADE: lets out a laughing wheeze.

JOEL: We don't endorse fighting here. But I digress —a laugh— back on topic. So this guy just up and disappears out of nowhere? And there's not a peep of him until we see Kakashi givin’ him the business. What does this all mean?

JADE: Okay, so, let’s get the full story. @majored goes off the grid, comes back to get his ass kicked by a Naruto character, disappears again, comes back to spit on someone and call them a see you next Tuesday, and then disappears again. And he hasn’t come back online. So what’s up with that? Well... we did a little digging.

Another spooky noise plays over the sound of Jade organizing a stack of papers.

JOEL: Daaaaaaang. I’d say those are some fightin' words, especially from someone who keeps pulling a vanishing act, don’t ya think?

JADE: They really are! I mean, he is from New Zealand, but even so, I think you don’t use that word unless you want to attract some attention. -She clicks her tongue as she gets back on topic- The video was originally posted the night before Halloween of last year, by @ime.are on Twitter. Obviously they got a lot of hate and questions after posting this, but all of them were left unanswered. The only person in the video that was tagged was Major, but upon further examination, this Ime seems to follow and have pictures with someone who happened to be dressed as Kakashi that same night, which has led many to speculate that these ninjas are the same person.

JOEL: So we all know Halloween's a spooooky season. Perfect for parties and all that jazz. But all those costumes make it a perfect time for disguises. Was that even the real Major? Was the person who spit the real Major? Who is this Ime and how do they fit into the story? And who— a pause for dramatic effect and muffled laughter as he tries to stay serious— is this mystery ninja? Tell us more!

JADE: Alright, alright. So this mystery ninja goes by Abel, or @_kllledbycain on the Gram. At first glance, they look pretty much like every other TikTok e-boy; black and white photos, pet snake, the insinuation that they’re dead, whole nine yards.

JOEL: snorts when Jade announces their handle, and again at her eboy comment, wheezing. It's true, it's true!

JADE: And this stuff is so common right now, so nothing really raises any eyebrows, right? Right? Well, tell me, why would a Tik Tok goth go around beating the crap out of a random influencer? Stay tuned for the theory. First, we’re gonna take a step back and look at the whole situation, because, of course, it doesn’t end there.

JOEL: Ohhhh snap! I'm on the edge of my seat, and I bet our listeners are too.

JADE: [clears her throat] So if we go back to the original poster of the video, @ime.are, and we take a look at their Insta, who is on it but... @devinitely? Okay, so @devinitely is in the same place as @majored, clearly, and, for anyone that doesn’t know, she’s been doing a bunch of collabs with @loganvance. This places not one, not two, but three influencers all together in this place where weebs are running around assaulting people.

JOEL: Okay. Okay, I need to know! Where are they? What's bringing all these influencers together? Are @devinitely and @loganvance part of something much more sinister than it seems? [He makes a funny face at Jade and wiggles his fingers, before dropping his voice to a stage-whisper.] Is it some kind of twisted influencer cult?

JADE: Shhhh, Joel, spoilers.

JOEL: [He laughs.] Sorry, sorry!

JADE: [muffled laughter over the sound of more papers rustling.] So, any skeptics out there might say, oh, well, this Ime Are is just a lucky person who happens to be in the presence of more than one social media personality. However, Devin follows the weeb that may or may not have kicked Major's ass. And, according to a cast photo of Rocky Horror, on her boyfriend's Instagram, both the weeb in question and the hot man that tore the two apart were part of the cast. This would be a great time to mention that a link to the video is in the description, as are all the pictures from social media that I'm referencing.

JOEL: [to Jade but loud enough for the mic to pick it up at regular volume] Oh snap, you got everything together in a link? Like, I could click the link to check it out right now? — A pause as he does just that.— Woah, cryptwizzlers, she's not kidding. Click the link in bio, you won't be disappointed. Okay, Jade...hear me out. Given that it was Halloween, the night of nights. Do you think that...maybe it was all an elaborate event? Was it staged? Is any of this real?

JADE: Oh, my dear brother, always the skeptic. Don’t you think that it’s a bit much for him to stop posting entirely in order to get publicity? And we mustn’t forget the spitting on someone in South Dakota, that’s not exactly his brand. Unless he’s trying out something like Taylor Swift and Reputation but... I digress. No, I don’t think any of this is staged, and I’ll tell you why. Let’s go back to the weird cow print basement post. You know who also happened to post something about some cowboy party? Oh, um, Devin’s boyfriend? A picture of him, Devin, and Logan? Which... puts them and Major in the same place on the night that he disappeared.

JOEL: Not a skeptic! Just trying to get all these questions answered. —A laugh— You're right, that's 180 from the online presence he used to have. All theories aside, —a pause— I'd love to go to a cowboy party. Get me a glow-in-the-dark cowboy hat. You know they make 'em. —He laughs again, mouthing 'what?' to Jade.—

JADE: Oh, def. We're getting matching hats. Check out our merch in a few weeks —she laughs— Glow in the dark mothman themed cowboy hats, talk about a niche.

JOEL: Snap, we have to do that now, 'cause I want one real bad. But okay, back on track. This cowboy party. The origin of this theory, yeah? Oh snap...what were those three doing in the same place as Major? And all in cow print too? That's....majorly suspicious! [He trails off into laughter, his voice doing that wheezy thing when someone's trying to finish their sentence before cracking up. Recovering, he adds the following.] Wait, wait, wait. What about—

JADE: Yes, yes, yes. —she cuts Joel off as though he's finished his sentence, chuckling at his joke— Patience, my dear twin, we will get there. —the smile is evident in her voice—

JOEL: I feel like somehow, I ended up as your Padawan for this episode. — he laughs—

JADE: You heard it here, I'm absolutely schooling Joel this episode. — she laughs— First, we're going to backtrack all the way to the original poster again. You know we snooped their whole page, and they're pretty regularly posting pictures with this person, @rengaaay, who isn't an influencer but she makes some of those sick ass roller skating videos... this isn't sus, just cool, link in the description. —a slight pause as she tries to get back to her train of thought— Anyway, what is sus is that she tags two people in her photos all the time... But no joke guys check out their Insta profiles they look different in like every other picture. Which, uh, could just be editing but also could be something.... more sinister? Hold onto that thought.

JOEL: That's such a good handle, dang! Better than @lumberjoel, honestly. I have to say I'm jelly. We should get branded rollerskates, maybe @rengaaay can advertise for us if we ship them. JK...unless? —more laughter as he waits for Jade to get back on the train and pulls up the profiles in question to take a look for himself— Huh...is it editing? Are they masters of disguise? Makeup professionals? —He starts to say something else but is pretty sure he's figured out where Jade's going with this.— What could be more sinister than human chameleons?

JADE: [The sound of papers shuffling can be heard] Oh, yeah, so, it's weird but I think every time the siblings are in a pic together they look more like each other? I dunno if this really makes sense but seriously dudes check the post with this episode because it has a bunch of photos side by side and... yeah. You pull a photo of them by themself and it's like okay, I know what this dude looks like and then you put them side by side and... I dunno, makeup? Contacts? Cloning, mayhaps? And, just so that I'm not just holding on to one thing too much... check their post from August 12th, linked below. Their brother... doesn't have a shadow. Why would you edit that out of a photo? No way are they going that hard to be memelords.

JOEL: Okay, let me look at this. Wha— That's weird as hell. How much hair dye do these two use? Hm. Could be clones? —snaps his fingers—Definitely clones. —he snorts loudly, laughing before clearing his throat— Ahem, uh. No shadow? That's dedication! I dunno, maybe it's some new challenge for the 'gram. Oh...but wait. I found a video. Look, Jade. No shadow. In a video. What the—

JADE: A video, guys. —A moment of muffled laughter before her mic cuts out, but the sound of it clicking on again is followed almost immediately— This is a big family, guys, and a big weird one because their other brother @sleepyfinch... Okay, wait, he himself is pretty normal, super cute, shout out, but guys, ghouls, you know who he has tagged in a recent post? Yet another influencer. Except this one is from Italy? @gaborealis; essentially, he’s a medium, so if you didn’t believe that the supernatural were at play beforehand... buckle up.

JOEL: Wait, wait, I'm still on the video thing. Who has time to edit a video? —his voice cracks when he says video and he covers his laughter as he focuses—

JADE: [wheezing] Shut up —there is no malice in her voice, and she’s laughing too.—

JOEL: So weird, I love it. Oh snap— the @gaborealis? It's time to get ghosty! —echoes "ghosty" and hums the Cha Cha Slide tune for a couple seconds— Okay, so wait. Does this mean everyone's favorite medium is also in the same place as...three? Three other influencers and this weird family of....maybe shapeshifters? No? Too crazy a theory?

JADE: You know what they say, cryptoddlers; no theory is too crazy. Everything Einstein came up with? Theory.

JOEL: Bringing Einstein into it, huh?

JADE: Oh you know it. —a snort— Anyway, according to Devin’s boyfriend’s Instagram, it doesn’t end there. @spencerkeahi, a youtuber and disability rights advocate who comes from Hawaii is also there with that gaggle. Shout out to @elidrising for tagging people and location. So what are these influencers from all corners of the globe gathering together for? Well, let’s take a look at the original poster again. You go on their Twitter, and a few months back it’s all just videos of people... fighting? In some sort of underground place. Mayhaps... the same creepy basement that Major posted his last photo? —a small gasp, as though she’s surprised by this— No, that must be a coincidence... or is it?

Another spooky sound plays

JOEL: @elidrising is the man, dang! Are you tellin' me there's a...—he lowers his voice to a whisper— secret influencers-only Fight Club? I wouldn't put it past @devinitely TBH. Honestly, I'd join one...even though I guess I've broken the first rule but talking about it, huh? Actually— Jay, do you think we'd even be allowed to join? Are podcasters influencers? Poll in my story right now, let us know what y'all think.

JADE: Right now? Joel, this isn’t going up for another week, at least. —She’s obviously trying to sound less amused than she’s coming off— Once we get the blue check we’re influencers, so we’ve got a few million followers to go, I think.

JOEL: Yeah, right now! They'll hear that when the episode goes up and respond in real ti— Oh, no. You're right. Oops. No poll in my story, y'all. False alarm. Blue check, huh? You heard it here, cryptwizzlers, we're gonna get that blue check. Tell your friends, tell your family. Heck, tell that cute barista at your coffee shop to listen to our podcast! We might just do a giveaway when we get that lil' blue swoosh.

JADE: [clears her throat.] You know what’s a great way to get us that blue check, though?

A different, light sort of spooky music begins playing in the background, meaning that it’s time for the ad break

JOEL: Take it away!

JADE: Checking out a little app called Creature Comforts. Alright guys, not that this show isn’t one hundred percent real as it is, but for real, I love this app. A dating sim that features everyone’s favorite... for lack of a better term, monsters. Did you watch the Shape of Water and go, “Damn, I’d tap that”? Do you want to snuggle with a Sasquatch? Do you just wish you could find yourself a GF with more eyes? Well, have we got the app for you. Creature Comforts lets you do all this and more. A choose-your-own-adventure game where you can smooch beasts, marry Mothman, and ignore the outside world. It’s seriously all I want. And, if you enter the code cryptwins— that’s the name of the podcast you’re listening to, no capital letters, when you download the app, then it’s only 99 cents to play without ads. Which, trust me ghouls, is worth it. I don’t want anything interrupting my cut scene with the most stunning eyes in West Virginia.

JOEL: Don't forget that scuba diving date with Nessie! Or, or...that half-day hike with Bigfoot. —he's laughing again smh— There's a reason Jade does the ad reads and not me. But, I can tell you that Mothman is sure to sweep you off your feet. And it's not just because he can fly.

JADE: It’s the —a pause for finger snapping— alliteration for me. But that’s Creature Comforts, exactly how you think you’d spell it, don’t ask us ‘cause we’re dyslexic, and cryptwins, like the name of this podcast. Tweet us @cryptwins to let us know how far along you are, who you’re pursuing, and what mysteries you unlock about their backstories. Now... I think it’s time for a timeline, just to get us sorted out, what do you think, Joel?

JOEL: Personally, I'm still tryin' to land a date with the Creature from the Black Lagoon. I guess we'll see what happens. Aw heck yeah! Give us a timeline, give us the dirt. — a laugh — Give the people what they want!

JADE: Okay — the shuffling of paper is heard once more — We start in September: @majored goes off the grid after posting a creepy picture of himself in a weird outfit in a spooky basement. This is around the same time that the Scarlet Surfer was in NYC for fashion week, which @majored accompanied him to, meaning that it isn’t entirely out of the question for him to still be in New York. Also on social media at this time is @devinitely and @loganvance also both is cowboy outfits, though the creepy basement is absent from both of them.

JOEL: I guess September isn't too early for weird Halloween stuff to start? What with the spooky basement and everything. Right? And everyone loves a cowboy moment— or have cowboys become the new clown? I heard there was a clown renaissance and people like them now? I don't really know where we stand on the whole clown— what?

JADE: I see our next hot debate. Cowboys: Hot or not? Personally, I liked cow print, but I can see cowboys going out soon. Once they reach killer clown status is when it’ll be ideal for me.

JOEL: Personally, I vote hot. And uhhh, not to kinkshame you Jay, but killer clowns are a no from me.

JADE: [tsks] Kinkshamed, by my own brother no less.

JOEL: [a loud laugh] You know I'm just kidding. No kinkshaking, ya heard? I'd literally let the Jersey Devil step on me so. To each their own.

JADE: [snorting] Um, gross.

JADE: Now to October: There is a production of Rocky Horror, a cast photo is uploaded to @elidrising, the account of @devinitely’s boyfriend. This places not only @devinitely and @loganvance in Montauk, but it also places @crispyboiz and @_kllledbycain in Montauk too. These are two of the people that are suspected to belong in the video by @ime.are, in which (suspected) @_kllledbycain, dressed as Kakashi Hatake attacked @majored, only to be torn apart by good citizen @crispyboiz. This video is the first that we’ve seen of @majored since his last post, and he offers nothing in response to it.

JOEL: Okay. Okay. Now, you know I love a good shadow-cast of Rocky Horror. I've always wanted to play Frank. I would rock that part. Am I wrong? —he laughs— But okay, that's - count 'em - three influencers in one place? If @elidrising is there, we can assume @devinitely is too because she was in the same location as, uh, whatshername? Logan? And that's the same location as @ime.are. Who took the video of  Kakashi kicking @majored's ass. @_kllledbycain— more like killedbyKakashi, eh? Seriously why are all these people together?

JOEL: [as an afterthought] It's gotta be a cult.

JADE: November to December: Nothing happens with @majored, @ime.are also offers nothing except for quote unquote “#teamkakashi”, which is funny because they never tagged Kakashi, but anyways. Upon deeper inspection, there are videos on their Twitter from last May, of people in a fighting ring. And then people fighting on a lake? But the fighting ring looks super dangerous and I dunno, like you said, cult-y? Fight-club-y? Call it what you will. In any case, we are led to believe that this fighting has been going on for some time in the background.

JOEL: Okay, come on. That’s definitely a cult. I’ve seen the movie, can confirm. — he groans— Literally what is an Italian astrologer doing there? Wait, wait, wait. Montauk? You said Montauk. Montauk, as in on Long Island. As in like —he drops his voice to a stage-whisper— the part of Long Island that peeps believe to be the site of a government cover-up involving kidnapping, mind control, and time travel? The part that inspired Stranger Things? That Montauk? Snap. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together sooner. Jade, Jade. What if this is, I don’t know, like, MKUltra 2.0?

JADE: Yes, yes that Montauk, I’m glad you picked up on that. Look, I’m not saying that it’s an influencer’s-only thing, but I am saying that some might be in the area, and maybe involved. At the same time throughout all of this, we have a culmination of more influencers seeming to know this network of people. @gaborealis, an Italian astrologer, is seen in pictures of @sleepyfinch, who was also in the production of Rocky Horror, and has pictures with @crispyboiz and, god, this name is a freaking nightmare, @_kllledbycain. Not to mention this guy has many pictures of weird… family members? Who sometimes look alike? Okay, but seriously, @kodakola and @sonofpeter, how is your hair not straw at this point? Is it wigs? I think my hair would simply fall out. And y’all using Insta filters or what, cause… I’m not gonna get into it, let’s keep going.

JOEL: Maybe they're makeup vloggers or something. Gotta change up the look for views, right? Don't forget to like, comment, subscribe and uhhhh, smash that follow button— or whatever YouTubers say. —he laughs— Okay but seriously, yeah. @sonofpeter, @kodakola, whatever you two are doing to your hair, let me know because I'm trying to bleach my hair and dye it bright purple without it falling out. And since we're doing it at our next stop, well, your advice will probably be too late. But still, what are your secrets? Is it...clones?

JADE: Joel! —she’s laughing again.— Timeline and then theories. —she clears her throat— After that long silence, a Tweet emerges. January 8th. "Can’t believe @majored SPAT on me and called me a C-Blank-Blank-T when he checked into @SDFamilyMotel last night”. This places Major across the country from where we believed him to be, but acting so strangely that one must wonder… was that really him? Or was it someone that just looked like him? Or was it a cry for help? Nothing’s been heard since from @majored, which I guess… leads us to our theories. —a pause— You were saying… clones, Joel?

JOEL: Sheeeeesh, this is not @majored's year. I gotta say, this sounds totally different from the vibe that this guy used to put out on his social media. Obviously Instagram is fake blah blah blah, you know the spiel, but like. Damn. He spit on them? —a pause as he considers what his sibling has said— You know....I think that's a really good point. Was that even the real him? Will the real Ed Major please stand up?

JADE: I know. It just seems out of character, and terrible for a reputation, but it also would make sense if... One, this is a fake @majored, meant to stir up controversy before he goes underground again. And with an action like spitting on someone and calling them a name like that? Who cares what the dude does after that? Unfollowed, cancelled, whatever. And why would this guy want to go underground, well, I'm glad you're so interested. Well, the official Cryptwins theory is that maybe... just maybe, the crazy, government cover-up Montauk that we all know and love isn't that far from truth. We see that they have means of covering up shadows —she lets out a laugh— and people whose faces just change? And who else is there, @spencerkeahi, someone who explains rehabilitation, maybe someone who has experience helping people get used to being a clone? @ime.are, a nurse who enjoys taking videos of people fighting? It all adds up, people!

JOEL: Yeah, seriously. With the real @majored MIA, there would be no one to combat the backlash from this supposed...clone? Imposter? And maybe that’s what they want. Looks like Montauk isn’t the ideal vacation spot anymore, huh? Even if their seaside cabins are super chill and homey. But I digress. Something sinister is going on. Something bigger than we can even imagine. A secret underground facility that’s...cloning influencers? Training them? Your guess is as good as mine. And that’s why we’re on this road trip, isn’t that right Jade? To get some answers?

JADE: Exactly. —it sounds as though she is holding back a laugh or a cough.— Cross country roadtrip in which we explore different topics like this one, and on the way, we'll document our progress and any spooky encounters. Check out our insta, @cryptwins to get all the updates, and consider hitting us up on Patreon if you want us to be able to afford the gas to get all the way to the east coast.

JOEL: I’ll be posting behind the scenes content in the “ROADTRIP” highlight on my Insta throughout the trip so be sure to check my stories. You might get lucky and find some special codes for Creature Comforts but, hey. You didn’t hear it from me. -he laughs and there’s the distinct sound of a bag of chips being opened- What Jade meant to say is gas and snack money. So yeah, go go go! Check out the Patreon! We might even do a giveaway at the end of our trip, get you guys some cool souvenirs we pick up on our travels. Not a bad idea, eh?

JADE: Joel, my ears are literally bleeding right now. Thanks. Anyway, our second theory will also be exclusive to our Patrons, so be sure to get the full video there. Cryptwins... out...

Her voice fades out and the music from the beginning fades in, takes over, and plays until the end of the track.

[thatordinaryoddity]

UPDATE: Once In A Blue Goddamn Moon

a 💗 Jamie & Dani Fanfiction 💗 [The Haunting Of Bly Manor, Netflix 2020]

written by thatordinaryoddity

Rating: K+

Words: ~9,5k

Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Status: Complete (will be uploaded in three chapters + Prologue)

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475423/chapters/67177879

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13742358/2/Once-In-A-Blue-Goddamn-Moon

Summary: Jamie leaves Flora’s weeding more wrapped up in her thoughts than usual. In all those years, there hadn’t been a day without thinking of her deceased lover Dani. But sometimes, once in a blue goddamn moon, events coincide in an exceptional, odd way.

A/N: Hey there darlings! I hope you’re all doing well!

I’ve just managed to upload my fanfiction on AO3 and FF.net *yay*. In short, here’s the new update, have fun! Next chapter will be out tomorrow, same time, same place(s) - until then, stay awesome!

The Garden Above the City

____________________

 Jamie dropped off her luggage and went straight to the kitchen to get herself a cold, clear glass of water. Finally, after what felt like way more than an almost seven hour flight, she was in her usual environment again. To tell from the dawn outside the window, the day had just begun here in England since they had been on a nightplane. A little bit jetlagged, she pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders as she seated herself in the dark-green, cosy vintage loveseat. Like some sort of weird compulsion, she checked the water surface with every sip she took from her glass, hoping to see her reflection – as always, even after all this time, even after all this disappointing time.

In hope of getting some distraction from her train of thoughts, she grabbed the remote control for her radio and switched it on. Restless as the past few days had left her, she shifted around nervously on the seat, unable to find a comfortable way to sit. After a few fidgety minutes, the grey-haired woman gave up on finding any rest and decided to make herself a little something to eat instead. In the background, the music from the radio silenced to make room for the daily news. A female voice started talking:

And now to the weather forecast. This Friday autumn morning will be sunny in all parts of South England. It’s supposed to get cloudy with thunderstorms in the evening. Over the weekend, we expect rain in the greatest parts of Britain. Also, a rare Blue Moon will appear this weekend, coinciding with Halloween for the first time in more than 70 years. The full moon will rise in the east at 4.53 pm in the UK on Saturday, less than 20 minutes after the sun sets.

Jamie wasn’t even really listening. It was more like she heard the voice of the radio lady but couldn’t catch what she was saying. She was just tucked so far away in her own thoughts.

After she had eaten her breakfast and unpacked her suitcase, she decided to visit her favourite place in the world – Teddy’s little rooftop garden – one of the few things left to give her soul some comfort.

~

When Dani left all those years ago, Jamie had been unable to set another foot inside their florist’s shop back in America. Everything was connected to too many memories. There wasn’t a single spot where they hadn’t kissed. Sometimes, Jamie even came across a blonde hair here and there which would leave her as a sobbing wreck for the rest of the day.

She couldn’t even remember what she had been doing all day long during the first few weeks, if she had eaten or not, but she knew she hadn’t been sleeping for more than an hour at a time. She hadn’t even been able to bear collapsing into unconsciousness, because waking up from it to once again face her loss had been torture. She had begun to feel even worse since that one time she had gone to the shop, only to find all their plants dead due to the weeks of unintentional neglect. It hurt so much. All of it felt miserable.

After what had seemed like an eternity, some kind of inner healing had set in. Something inside her had told her she needed to move on. And although no hour had passed without her being reminded of that awful grief, Jamie had managed to move on one day. She had sold the flower shop and also her – their – flat, packed only the indispensables and booked a one way flight back to England. The woman had been aware that she couldn’t stay in America, in that cosy apartment, near the charming florist’s. It had been their dream, their life – and she would have perished had she stayed there.

Fortunately, she’d had some money left over from selling the flower shop and Henry Wingrave’s noble inheritance – he had sold all the antiquities and expensive, century-old furniture in Bly Manor to get rid of “all the old dust”. And since he was one of the only four people to remember what exactly had occurred at Bly Manor, he had decided to split the money between them as some sort of indemnity.

Back in Britain, Jamie had moved into a charming, suburban brick row house on the outskirts of a larger city. She’d been unable to bear living on the landside all alone because her own thoughts seemed too loud in all that silence. Likewise, living in the city centre had not been an option because the rush always unsettled her. Therefore, her current, modest accommodation had been just the right choice in her situation. Yet as the seasons had changed and one year had turned into two, the green-eyed woman had felt that something was missing inside her heart – the presence of a garden, of real flowers and plants. Since her row house didn’t have much more to offer than a few tiny window cills which were far too small to make a suitable home for all of her pot plants, Jamie had decided to search for something else. As luck would have it, she had found just what she had been looking for one day on the empty bus seat next to her while on her way home from grocery shopping. The forgotten newspaper on the seat right next to her had revealed just the right page of small ads:

Retired Gardener needs helping hand with his 40 sqm rooftop garden including a conservatory. All those interested please contact Theodore Campbell under ….

This ad had been more than just written words on the newspaper, it had been the beginning of something great, of something essential for the woman’s soul to find a little comfort and silence after all this time.

The years had gone by and turned her hair a steely gray, and she had gotten used to this new reality. Dani was never gone from her mind, not a single second, but it had become easier to live with all that screaming numbness inside her.

Theodore Campbell – Teddy – who suffered from multiple sclerosis and was confined to his wheelchair, had provided Jamie with so much love and understanding that he had become family to her. Truthful family, unlike those people who were related to her by blood. The elderly woman had shared her story with the old man and he had listened, understood, and remained silent when she had just needed to cry. Thus the little garden above the city had become not only a diversion, a pastime – but instead it had become home to her.

Teddy was 85 years old by now and Jamie visited him at least five days a week. Just as much as she saw him as a father, the old man loved Jamie like his own daughter. His wife had also passed away many, many years ago and the couple never had any children. Somehow, Teddy was a kind of role model for the green-eyed woman, because he himself had been through really hard times and yet, he always had a smile on his lips and another joke to tell every day. When his health began to deteriorate, he became reliant on his wheelchair, unable to attend to his gardening duties all by himself. Unwilling to give up the rooftop garden and sell it to someone who might just turn it into a rooftop terrace, he had place the ad in the newspaper.

Luckily, the pensioner was able to draw from his savings to pay for his treatments and special care, but with that burden and the rather lousy annuity a gardener gets, money was short nonetheless. Despite his financial status, he insisted to pay Jamie for her help, but she had always declined. His company and the garden had always been more than enough compensation for her. That, and the afternoon tea with shortbread biscuits, of course.

~

“It’s fine Teddy, I’ll get it,” the elderly woman put away her gardening gloves as the doorbell rang. The passionate gardener had spent almost the whole day on the rooftop, nurturing the plants and flowers with care and dedication, as she had been away for almost one week. Utterly absorbed in her work, she hadn’t even noticed that the sun was setting.

“Good evening Madam, trick or treat,” three colourfully dressed up children stood outside the door, gleefully grinning and bursting with excitement.

“Oh hi there, I love your costumes, you’re all exceedingly spooky! Let me see what the secret sweets stash has to offer!” Jamie smiled back at them, rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of chocolate bars and handed each kid a few of them.

At the back of her head, she remembered the radio announcement about Halloween and the occurrence of the rare blue moon this night. If the kids hadn’t turned up in their costumes, she wouldn’t even have recalled that tonight was Halloween. She hardly attributed any importance to holidays like this, always assuming them to be a day like any other, but unbeknownst to her, this Halloween would turn out to be a very special one.

Without the sunlight warming her in the chilly autumn breeze, Jamie decided to lay her work on the rooftop garden down for the day and put on some good night tea for Teddy and herself.

“Ah thank you my dear, you are truly an angel!” Teddy said gratefully, as he took the hot tea mug from her. “You care to join me for a while?” The old man had hoped to be able to spend some time with her because he had noticed that something was especially strange since the moment she entered his apartment this day. Since she had returned from her trip to America for the wedding ceremony, Jamie seemed to be more absent-minded than usual.

“Would you mind if I go outside to the garden? The moon is so pretty tonight and I just want to admire it for a little bit on my own.” With a faint smile she placed her hand on the old man’s shoulder, trying to let him know that he needn’t worry. With a soft nod, he accepted her wish.

The sun had set entirely by now and the clear sky was embellished with its shiny stars already. The full moon tinted the rooftop with all the plants in a pale, silvery light. Despite her brown turtleneck pullover, made from very warm and soft linen, the elderly woman slightly shivered in the cold night air. Nevertheless, she sat down on the iron garden bench, wrapping her elegant, slender fingers tighter around the warm mug. With every sip, the warmth of the tea seemed to spread inside her body, stopping her from freezing any longer. The night was so very calm, and soon, her heavy thoughts, too, appeared to fall silent. Before she knew it, sleep somehow overcame her after a day of hard work and all the mental tension over the past week.

Jamie woke up, trying to figure out where she was for a moment. She didn’t know how long she’d been sleeping there, outside, on the cold iron stand of the garden bench. But somehow, her surroundings appeared to be ghostly silent and the cold night suddenly seemed very mild, more like a summer night really. There wasn’t a noise to hear, not even some distant hustle of traffic, not even the wind playing with the leaves of the plants. The green-eyed woman felt uneasy, odd, somehow dizzy. With one last glance upon the sky to the gorgeous moon in all its glory, she went towards the door leading inside. Suddenly, she was interrupted by a voice. A voice, so obviously real and present, that denying it or blaming it on the wind would have been utterly pointless:

“Jamie...”

She was thunderstruck. It was as if all her body cells, every membrane and every fiber froze to ice. A cold sensation rushed through her body from head to toe, leaving every inch of her electrified. This voice – could it be real? Was it another dream? Suddenly, she heard it again, louder this time, but with the same fragile gentleness.

“Jamie...”

The elderly woman didn’t even dare to turn around, she was literally frozen. A sudden gasp escaped her lungs, when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. She squinted her eyes, trying to wake up from what she believed to be a dream, but the touch tightened.

[mysticalparadisetale]

Are Ghosts real? — Scientific evidence for Ghosts

Ghosts are everywhere. We’ve seen them in films, in books, or if you’re too terrified to watch a scary movie (like me) you might at least have heard a few ghost stories.

As far back as we can trace human life, there’s evidence that every culture around the world believed that there’s some non-physical essence to life. It’s because humans are curious and we want to know what’s happening around us. It’s a good thing but what’s not good is rendering something as supernatural when we have no explanation for its mysteriousness.

It can be presented better in the words of Carrie Poppy:

“Of course there are mysteries, but a mystery is a mystery. It’s not a Ghost.”

Psychological reasons for why we believe in ghosts

According to Barry Markovsky, a sociologist at the University of South Carolina, the human mind seeks patterns and tries to make sense of ambiguous things. Ghosts are always seen in ambiguous circumstances like when it is dark or when we’re half-conscious such as when we’re sleeping or waking up.

Missing loved ones

Ghosts, If you’re looking for one you'd likely to find one. Researchers say that Six in 10 grieving people 'see or hear dead loved ones'. Honestly, it’s more agonising to realise that our loved ones are gone forever than accepting a sweet lie.

Pareidolia

One of the reasons why we see faces or figures is Pareidolia. Pareidolia is a situation when we see an image or a pattern in something even where it doesn't exist.

Our brain processes information and it’s always correct. But when we are hallucinating, which of course is an illusion, we still believe it because we’re so used to the accuracy of our senses.

The brain works to make the sense of the world around itself and it’s so good at it that sometimes it finds meaning in meaningless things. That’s why we see faces in scuff marks on a wall or in clouds and of course the spooky figures in the dark.

The Science of Ghosts

Infrasound

Several ghost stories are easily explained through Infrasound. Infrared is a low-frequency sound below our auditory limit (20Hz). It can be produced by certain machines like engines or fans.

It’s a fact that we can’t hear it but it certainly messes with our nerves and can cause visual hallucinations, chills, and the eerie feeling of someone’s presence near you.

Peripheral Vision

It’s common to hear stories of people catching a glimpse of a ghost from the corner of their eye. Peripheral vision is our ability to see objects and movements outside of the direct line of vision. And Here’s how it works:

Our ability to detect motion increases at the edge of our peripheral vision whereas our ability to detect colour drops off considerably. This is because the periphery of our retina has fewer cones (cones are cells that detect colour and shape) and more rods which are better at detecting motion.

Our senses are heightened when we are alert which makes us likely to be frightened by otherwise mundane occurrences.

Sleep Paralysis

Sleep paralysis occurs when the usual rhythm of sleep is disrupted such as when we’re about to fall asleep or wake up from sleep. It’s when our eyes are active under our shut eyelids called REM sleep or Rapid Eye Movement. We are active and alert but the rest of the body is paralysed. It is to prevent us from acting out in our sleep and injuring ourselves.

Sleep paralysis occurs when the body wakes up from REM sleep. That means that we are still dreaming but have opened our eyes.

This is usually a terrifying phenomenon because that’s when the hallucinations occur. People have described seeing demons, intruders, or footsteps walking closer which is one of the primary causes people to report paranormal experiences.

Joe Nickell, a paranormal investigator, after 50 years of his research said:

“Not ever have I found a single case that I thought was proof of a ghost neither has science. Not a single ghost or haunting has been authenticated by science.”

Physics vs Ghosts

Ghosts are considered supernatural because their presence can’t be validated or proved by science. Isn’t it ambiguous that the only proof of them is of oral stories or ambiguous photographs?

The characteristics of ghosts we know defy all scientific laws of nature. They are invisible but some are caught in videos, they can pass through solid objects but can also open/close doors when no one is around.

Theoretical Astrophysicist, Dan Hooper explained that if ghosts are visible and can take any kind of physical form then they must be made up of atoms (like every other thing in the universe).

The electrons around atoms have a very strong repulsive force and that’s why solid objects can’t move through each other and here’s exactly why you can’t pass through a wall. If that’s the case, then ghosts can’t pass through solid objects either.

Therefore, we have to assume that they are made of something more exotic like Neutrinos also called Ghost Particles. Neutrinos have no electric charge—they’re neutral.

Since they have no electric charge, therefore they exert a repulsive force against other matter and can easily pass through solids.

BUT if ghosts were made of neutrinos then they would not emit any electromagnetic radiation or light. Mind you many ghost hunters use EMF meters to detect ghosts and they basically measure the electromagnetic fields that ghosts are assumed to simulate.

Some people believe that the reason why we still don’t have valid proof is that we don’t have the right technology to detect the spirit world but we can also detect them with our senses. That’s certainly not a very clever assumption.

Well, sorry to burst your bubble but so far there aren’t any scientific proofs for the existence of Ghosts.

Story of Carrie Poppy

Carrie Poppy is a journalist and a paranormal investigator. In a TED Talk, Carrie Poppy shared her story of when she thought her house was haunted by a ghost.

Here’s how it goes…

While living in her house in LA (which I’m assuming she had recently moved into), she started to feel as if it was rather haunted. Poppy would constantly feel pressure on her chest, which only got worse. She even started to hear whispers. That’s not all, Poppy said she would sit on her bed and cry all night for no apparent reason.

Poppy was then sure that evil spirits were living in her house. She talked to her friend and as anyone would, her friend suggested a cleansing ritual.

This should’ve been the end of the story. Well not so quick.

The cleansing ritual had no effect and the eerie feeling didn’t go away. After a little search, she stumbled upon a team of ghost hunters, whom she referred to as “Skeptics”. They believed that every ghost case could be explained through science.

That’s exactly what they did. Thanks to those “Skeptics”, Poppy came to realise that there was a gas leak in her house and the ghost that kept haunting her was, in fact, Carbon Monoxide Poisoning. Mind you the common symptoms of CO poisoning are auditory hallucinations, unexplained dread, and chest pain.

Poppy had to call the gas company to fix the leak and one of the members told her that she was lucky because she would’ve died if she hadn’t called them earlier.

Imagine if Poppy hadn’t called the Company, she probably would’ve died. Her house would’ve been added to the unending list of haunted houses.

Poppy is now a paranormal investigator, she claims to have solved 70 cases in her life, and according to her:

“9 times out of 10 science wins, Saves the day, it’s all explained

That’s not true, The truth is

10 times out of 10, science wins, it saves the day”

Swiss Scientists were able to produce a “ghost” in a lab. They created a robot with a mechanical arm. The robot’s arm touches the subject’s back and mimics the movements of the subject’s arm. A slight delay in the movement of its arm creates a ghostly feeling.

This shows how manipulating certain parts of your brain can easily misconstruct reality.

Think about it, If our souls could turn into ghosts after death then there would be more ghosts in this world than the number of people alive. Also, most murder cases could solve easily. Overall, it would be a terrifying world.

Next time if you feel a presence, just think of how many annual deaths are caused by ghosts. EXACTLY!!

Sources

Ghosts: Fact or Fiction? | The Psychology of Extraordinary Beliefs

A scientific approach to the paranormal | Carrie Poppy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LF MuLqZ1z a&t=74s

Halloween Special: Is There Any Scientific Evidence for the Paranormal?

Ghost Particles | National Geographic

Why do people believe in ghosts?

The science of ghosts

6 Possible Scientific Reasons for Ghosts

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghost

[ezraisawitch]

How I like to celebrate the Full Moon!!

Hello, everyone!! It’s been a while, and I’m really sorry about that! With school, work, and my own personal relationship issues; it’s been quite hectic in my life! But, I’m here now; and I’d like to share some ways that I like to celebrate the full moon!!

So, first of all; I’m sure that there’s at least one of us who might not know the significance of the full moon that’s in about two weeks! Let me explain why this moon is super significant: Halloween full moon is a relatively rare occurrence. The next Halloween with a full moon will occur this Halloween/Samhain!! The previous fullones date back to Halloween 2001 and 1955. The entire 21st century will see only six Halloween full moons: 2001, 2020, 2039, 2058, 2077, and 2096. With the non-spiritual facts out of the way; let’s get to the spiritual side of things!

As stated above, October’s second full Moon appears on Saturday, October 31, making Halloween night extra special this year. This full Moon is known as the Hunter’s Moon, as this is the time of year when humans and animals alike are stocking up on food in preparation for the long winter ahead. This is also known as a “Blue Moon.” It is also believed to be the time of year when the veil between the living and deceased is super thin!! So, please be extra careful if you do any form of spirit work/divination; make sure you’re grounded and safe.

MOON FOLKLORE:

Corn planted under a waning Moon grows slower but yields larger ears.

Babies born a day after the full Moon enjoy success and endurance.

A new Moon in your dreams promises increased wealth or a happy marriage.

Here are some ways that I celebrate the full moon!!

1. Observing the moon!

The simplest witchcraft rituals are often the best. Just looking at the moon is a magical act and a divine communication in and of itself.

It doesn’t need to be complicated – just go outside and look! Gaze gently, see every shadow and every line. See how the light diffuses around it. See how it illuminates the world and the night sky. Just watch without expectation or assumption about what might happen. Breath deeply and enjoy!

2. Talking to the Moon!!

Whilst you are outside looking at the moon you might feel drawn to speak to the moon. Don’t hold back – speak what’s in your heart and mind! You can speak out loud (I often use a purposeful whisper) or in your mind. You might like to prepare something in advance if you do not feel confident.

3. Acknowledging the elements!!

A very simple ritual which can be done any time, but is particularly strong at the full moon is to acknowledge the elements where you live. To do this I simply go outside and take some deep breaths, and say something like:

“I breathe of the Earth, of the land which Holds Me

I breathe of the Air, of the breeze which Inspires Me

I breathe of the Water, of the rivers which free Me

I breath of the Fire, of the flame which illuminates Me

I breathe of the Elements. I breathe of Life”

I then spend a few moments just ‘being’.

Remember – the elements exist everywhere and all around us. Whilst some traditions attribute elements to specific directions there is no need to do this, and I do not turn or face a certain direction when I do this greeting.

Thank you very much for reading this!! I hope you all have a wonderful day/night, stay safe, and blessed be!!

[twistednuns]

October 2020

To buttress - increase the strength of or justification for; reinforce / to mollycoddle - to give someone too much care or protection. 

A letter from Nina. One of those weird internet connections. Not my first one, certainly not my last one.

Frank’s DnD backstory reads quite insightful/poetic to me as he has taken so much from his life. He might have done it without intent but it’s quite obvious to me. I’ve agreed to make a character sketch for him. I’m looking forward to the challenge but I’m also afraid of starting the project because obviously I want it to be perfect. Anyway so the other night I sat at his kitchen table and started drawing a facial composite for his goliath. Lots of sketches actually with him giving me some prompts and ideas. I think he loved watching me do my magic. What a peaceful moment.

Applause from some students. Simply for entering the room. They must really hate their English teacher, eh?

I’ve started forming the habit of drawing tarot cards on a full moon and new moon night. It helps me set an intention for the following two weeks. So on the first of October I drew the Queen of Wands to represent me and I’m loving it. It’s the perfect choice.

The fabric dyeing process for the Plot exhibition at Haus der Kunst

Inviting warmth into my life. Wearing appropriately warm clothing. Even hats. Drinking tea all the time. Turning the heating on even though it’s only September. Warm breakfast. Ayurveda inspiration. Hot baths. Thinking about buying an electric heating blanket for my bed.So far I’ve been taking a hot water bottle to bed with me pretty much every night.

Finding one of those Barts woolly animal hats online. This one came with tigers. And the seller sent me a cherry marzipan teabag. I enjoyed it on a cold and rainy Saturday morning.

FAQ: The Status of the Shits Women Have Left to Give

Reading the final scenes of Leigh Bardugo’s Shadow and Bone trilogy. I actually took the wrong bus one evening and ended up in front of one of the Pinakotheken instead of Villa Stuck. I must have been quite immersed. I’m very happy with the ending. I mean, the main character is walking around the house barefoot with the smell of fresh paint following her, her hair loose. What a wonderful image.

The wind blowing through the maple trees outside my living room window. I’m just going to quote a Wikipedia article to explain what happened next: The distinctive fruits are called samaras, “maple keys”, “helicopters”, “whirlybirds” or “polynoses”. These seeds occur in distinctive pairs each containing one seed enclosed in a “nutlet” attached to a flattened wing of fibrous, papery tissue. They are shaped to spin as they fall and to carry the seeds a considerable distance on the wind. People often call them “helicopters” due to the way that they spin as they fall. During World War II, the US Army developed a special airdrop supply carrier that could carry up to 65 pounds (29 kg) of supplies and was based on the maple seed.

Monsieur Wiener - I’ve paid him a visit when I had problems with my analogue Pentax camera!

I don’t know why but one dark Friday evening I slipped into the empty church at Odeonsplatz. I loved the peaceful atmosphere, the specific smell and the red church candles flickering.

I loved meeting Flo. We had such a great time, constantly joking, talking about this and that. Sailor Mercury, Hades, our family. His wink. He said that I had been exactly right but in the end apparently I wasn’t. It stung because he had been one of the rare guys in the last months (years, actually) I actually liked. Oh well. I guess it wasn’t meant to be after all. This is what the Universe had to say about it the other day: There are no accidents. If it’s appeared on your life’s radar, this is why: to teach you that dreams come true; to reveal that you have the power to fix what’s broken and heal what hurts; to catapult you beyond seeing with just your physical senses; and to lift the veils that have kept you from seeing that you’re already the person you dreamed you’d become.

Videos of Marno and Erin together. Also: she is so freakin’ beautiful as a marauder.

A surprise call from Ann-Katrin.

Sweet chai tea with milk.

The bright moonlight making the neighbours’ roof look like fish scales.

Forensic linguistics. I listened to a podcast episode about the Unabomber who was only discovered after his brother had noticed some stylistic irregularities in his manifesto. You can’t eat your cake and have it too.

Autumn leaves. Especially when it’s just the outer leaves turning red or yellow while the rest of the foliage is still green.

Sitting next to my ten-year-old student Ella on the bus on our way home on a Friday afternoon. She’s a very chatty Gemini and even though her self-importance and constant talking can be quite annoying I’ve kinda taken a liking to her.

A bunch of Alstroemeria in my dark green glass vase on the desk. A pretty image.

I still appreciate how beautiful my LuLuLemon thermos bottle is after all this time.

I should probably mention my new hair (extensions). Well, it looks absolutely gorgeous from the front. But I already know that I won’t get them again because you can see the glue in a few places, it’s quite hard, often painful and feels unnatural. And of course it’s much too expensive.

Baby carrots with King hummus.

My lunch dates with Becky.

Making my favourite sour thai curry. With rice noodles. And peanuts and cilantro. Yum.

Starting to work on a big soapstone sculpture. It’s going to be a hand! I love it when I have a group of calm students. It allows me to work on a project with them.

Making delicious pumpkin lasagna.

Visiting Manu’s mum. Making plum dumplings together. A fun afternoon in their kitchen.

A very cosy Sunday. Waking up at 5:30am. Watching Practical Magic in bed. Having a slice of pumpkin lasagna for breakfast. A sudden urge to get out, dressing up to keep out the cold, going out, early, streetlights still on. A walk through the woods. I loved how calm everything was. Being out before all the others had a chance to disturb the stillness with their kids and dogs and bicycles. Making lebkuchen. Lots of pecans. Having a nap. Writing a letter. Drawing weird mushrooms and bugs.

Autumnal smells. The moist smell of the forest ground, mushrooms, the smell of chimneys on a cold Sunday morning. Incense, gingerbread spices. Facial oil with lavender and iris. Roasted pecans.

A crafty day. I made a haunted house, some ghosts, spiders, bats, skulls and pumpkins out of paper.

Schlurp.

Meeting Frank in front of Residenztheater. The whole square was empty, he was the only person there. Waiting for me. Looking up to the opera roof. What an impressive building.

Talking about living life in story mode and action mode. I feel so stuck in action mode at the moment and desperately want to switch to story mode. Fantasy, magic, coincidences and meaning.

Spicy pumpkin recipes in the current issue of Schrot und Korn.

Rice and hazelnut milk as a bedtime treat.

Collecting autumn leaves. Chestnuts, acorns, feathers, beechnuts. Making a little autumnal alter with some crystals.

Thursday mornings. So much time for myself. Lots of tea, warm breakfast.

Treating myself to massages and nice facial creams and serums. Ya Yah is such a gifted person. I love her massages the most. The other day I also got a facial for the first time in many many years. It was nice to be wrapped in an extremely fluffy blanket. When the bright lights were on I could see different colours after closing my eyes and imagined being at a tropical beach. Unintentional ASMR sounds from the rubber gloves. Cosy.

Spicy winter tea in my new thermos bottle. The steam swirling up from my favourite mug (the moon phase mug I bough in Canada).

Buying cheap sparkly stickers, washi tape and stamps. Just because.

Pecan nuts are the BEST. Crazy delicious.

Porridge with coconut milk and mango for breakfast. Persimmons. Candles in the morning.

Gloomy twilight. The dark hour right before sunset/sunrise. Spooky black silhouettes against the ink blue or greyish white sky. Fairy lights. Memories of spending Halloween at Greyfriar’s Kirkyard in Edinburgh.

Finding yet another woolly hat for my collection. This time with pheasants.

Deltavenus’ Instagram feed.

Cutting open a fresh lime.

Happily singing along to my two favourite mantras (Jai Mata Kali / Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha) while making apple galette. Trying to harmonise in different ways.

A very surprising call from Claudia. She ended up in my kitchen, drinking half a bottle of wine.

A lovely Sunday with Sash. A walk through the English garden.   Watching the waterfall, falling leaves, backlit by the afternoon sunlight. Haus der Kunst. Getting in for free (art teacher bonus). I really liked the Michael Armitage exhibition and the enormous dyed curtains in the hall. Franz Erhard Walther’s Dust of Stars autobiography was impressive as well. I just ordered the book online; I’m looking forward to reading it. We also had a drink at Goldene Bar and enjoyed a late lunch at Baoz Bar.

Becky leaving me a lovely note and an English magazine on my desk.

Fink’s Knödelstube with Lena and Sash. We had 13 different kinds of dumplings. Heavenly delicious.

I came to realise that mornings are my favourite time of the day. I love gloomy, dark sunrises and my usual productivity highs.

Writing limericks with the kids.

Getting lost in the woods after dark which might not look like a good think at first glance but I uncovered a little secret - some bee hives I had never seen before!

A mild obsession with The Corrs’ song Old Town. I didn’t even know where it came from. It’s not a song I’ve ever actively listened to.

Learning about sesame plants. Another one of those plants I expected to look completely different.

I can smell mushrooms. On Saturday morning I went to the forest again early in the morning and whenever I would get a whiff of mushrooms and look down there they were.

Dog owners wishing me a good morning on my walk. Interestingly only men, the women tend to ignore me.

Wicked! - Modern Art’s Interest in the Occult. Learning about Leonora Carrington.

James’ chameleons in art class. He drew one representing each of his family members. He was the one licking a bat. Bold.

Buying far too many books. But I found out that Naomi Novik just published a new novel about a school of magic. And within two days I came across the writer Ursula K. Le Guin three times so I took it as a sign and got one of her books as well.

Prepare for the Roaring Twenties - The human desire to socialize will survive the pandemic.

A deep talk session with Jonathan about getting old, having children, self-worth, dating, obeying rules.

Finding my favourite pair of jeans on Kleiderkreisel for a fraction of the original price. And a baseball jacket with a Strange Ladies Society print on the back.

A walk in the forest before work. Something I’ve never done before I think. So good for my nerves, really.

The art of decision-making.

Joy praising me for my authoritative voice (effectively making the fifth-graders do what I want).

Decorating the classroom with the fifth-graders. I love my haunted house on the window pane, their lovely spiders, ghosts and bats. I should probably mention that our class mascot is a cute spider named Crawley so we’re all quite into spooky stuff. On the last day before the holidays we all showed up in costumes, played a Halloween quiz, listened to creepy music and I brought some candy, too. Fun!

Meeting the gang on Halloween. Japanese-inspired dinner and a board game.