#living alone in his castle full of ghosts

[spacecasehobbit]

Once again thinking about how much I love Oliver's ending monologue in Saltburn.

It is the perfect culmination of his character arc, even as Oliver tries to sell it as a shocking reveal of his movie-long character flatline.

The boy who always wanted to please everyone and never felt like he could please anyone until he resorted to lies, left with only himself as his last audience to lie to for their (his) happiness.

And maybe this time it'll work out like he wanted.

Maybe now he can finally be happy, if he can convince himself he means it when he tells himself he is.

[and-so-he-rambled]

The Call

Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters (chapter 0)

Masterlist | Chapter 1

The call came at exactly 7:56 on a Tuesday night. He had been cooking an Italian dish, a tape of Packers highlights playing on the television as he puttered around the kitchen. It was large and empty, decorated to the bare minimum. He’d only just moved in recently to the castle and he hadn’t had time to settle in fully yet. He liked the lack of stuff though, the empty space that was his alone to fill. It smelled dusty and ancient in a way the hospital never did, full of history and echoes of the past.

The shrill ring of the landline startled him, the pan he was holding clattering onto the burner as the handle phased through his hand. He cursed as he turned down the heat and walked briskly towards the phone to see what idiot he had to deal with. Even almost ten years after the accident he still had mishaps, small losses of control that bothered him to no end.

He picked up the phone, slipping into a mask of polite indifference as he prepared for what drivel an investor or cold caller would dump on him.

“Is this Vlad Masters?” The woman on the other end asked.

“Speaking.” He boredly watched flames roll over his knuckles, winding it through his fingers.

“You were an associate of Jack and Madeline Fenton, correct?” The flame flared out of control before dying with a hiss, the plastic of the phone creaking in his hand as he tried to not crush it to dust. Even after escaping their shadows he wasn’t free, haunted by scars and an obsession he couldn’t control.

“Yes.” He bit out, wondering what trouble they would cause in his life now. He had forgiven Maddie in the first few years, she’d realized the error, it was Jack that had stolen his humanity, killed him where he stood and scarred his face.

“I regret to inform you that earlier this week Jack and Maddie Fenton were caught up in a lab accident in their basement and did not survive. According to their wills-“ She kept talking, but it faded out into static. Something in Vlad’s chest pulsed, something deep inside cracking until it shattered with a shockwave that traveled down his arms and legs. He wheezed in pain, bracing himself against the wall as his legs shook and threatened to go out from beneath him.

Pain, that was the only way he could describe it. Pain and grief and loss. Maddie, his dear beloved Maddie, and Jack, a bafoon he had once considered his closest friend and had swore to one day take revenge on. They were gone, dead. Did they have ghosts? Should he go looking? Did he want to?

“Sir?” The staticky voice crackled loudly in his ear. “Did you hear me?”

He forced himself to rein in his powers even as he slid to the floor, cradling the phone to his ear.

“Bad connection.” He grit out as his lungs seized and his heart beat sluggishly before finally giving up and stopping. “What was that?”

“We need to talk regarding the children, Daniel and Jasmine Fenton. They’re currently still in the hospital undergoing treatment, but you’re now their legal guardian. Could you make the trip down to Amity so we can discuss in person?”

He responded on autopilot, making a plan to make the trip down to Amity.

He’d known the Fentons had children. Jack had called him the night Jazz was born, and while he’d ignored every single call since the accident he still listened to each voicemail. It often fueled the hate in his chest, but other times he just liked to close his eyes and pretend they were back in the lab, working on projects no one believed in.

Jack had excitedly told him about his baby Jazz, how she had red hair like her mother and was six pounds, four ounces. He could hear her crying in the background and Maddie’s dulcet voice cooing to her. It sang of other lives he’d never get to live, a life where he’d been a father instead of Jack, or where he’d stayed human and been there for the birth. Jack expressed that he wanted Vlad to meet her.

He taped it onto a cassette to listen to in moments of weakness, but he never reached out. He couldn’t face the product of their love.

He instead threw himself into building a company, relying on petty thievery and lies to build his throne. He tried so hard to make it his obsession, but his core still called out for Maddie, for revenge.

He hadn’t realized a son had been born until he had fed his obsession by viewing the Fentons gaudy website and had seen the portrait of a toddler with Jacks features. Daniel Fenton. Had Jack not called him about this birth? Did he care?

(He did and it drove him insane.)

He resolved to not think about their children, about what would never be his. He cheated and lied and stole, and he definitely didn’t comb through his answering machine until he heard Jack’s grating voice excitedly telling him about his newborn son. Four pounds and eight ounces, stayed in the NICU briefly. “He’s got that Fenton spirit!” Jack loudly proclaimed, Maddie shushing him as he apparently woke the baby. A young Jazz was asking questions loudly in the background, the toddler stumbling over her words. “But not the ghost kind of spirit!” Jack added on just as loudly. “No, that wouldn’t do at all!”

He taped it and put it with the other tapes of shame, knowing it would become background noise to his lowest moments ahead.

He spent the night of the call replaying the tapes over and over, still in unbelievable pain even worse than his death. He cried despite having tried so hard to train himself out of human weaknesses, mourning his love and the past. Did he care that he’d never get his revenge on Jack? Did he miss him anyway? Curse human emotion! Curse death!

The flight to Amity was one spent in a haze, reliving memories like a movie he couldn’t stop. He was a prisoner in his own mind, forced to relive each detail of the past. He caught himself slipping several times, forcing himself to remember how to breathe and force his heart to beat. His grip on his humanity had grown weaker in the wake of his obsession break.

He leaned heavily on his cane as he made his way through the quaint town of amity, the place where Jack and Maddie had chosen to settle down.

Legal talks were boring, laying out what he already had pieces together even if it didn’t make sense. He stared at the will in front of him, reading the statement over and over that he, Vlad Masters, would be entrusted with Danny and Jaz in the event of the parents death.

They brought him to the hospital after that, leading him up to a room and stepping aside.

He opened the door slowly, bracing himself as he met two pairs of eyes.

Jasmine looked just like her mother, a sharp jab of pain shooting though his cracked core. She had the same fiery orange hair, but she had Jack’s piercing blue eyes. She regarded him with open distrust, bag held tightly to her chest.

His eyes shifted over the the boy on the bed, hooked up to machines. Static rippled across the displays as Vlad fought to control his aura as the sight. Daniel was small for his age, tiny against the bed with deathly pale skin and stark black hair. He had the same piercing eyes, but his were round with curiosity.

A case worker stood from her seat in the corner to greet him, but Jazz cut her off.

“So you’re Uncle Vlad?” She sounded unimpressed, eyes narrowed.

“I- Yes, I suppose I am.” Vlad stuttered, entirely caught off guard. He was completely unprepared for this situation, but he was also sure that no amount of preparation would have been enough.

“You’re gonna take us away?” Daniel’s squeaky young voice drew his attention back to the boy. “Now that mom and dad are dead?”

Jazz flinched, pain rolling off her in waves as she kicked the base of the hospital bed.

“Sorry.” The boy apologized, but his eyes were on Vlad still, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, yes. I’ll be taking you two to Wisconsin with me.” It was the first time he’d said it out loud, or really made the decision at all. He hadn’t made up his mind before coming, but he knew the only choice the second his eyes landed on the two children. His core called out for them, needed them safe. They were Jack and Maddie’s, their greatest inventions, he couldn’t spend the rest of his life worrying about them and not knowing if they were safe.

He was wholly unprepared for fatherhood, but he’d always dreamed of meeting Maddie’s children, of caring for them. This was a situation he never could have predicted, but life was unpredictable like that.

The Fenton house was in shambles, both kids left with a garbage bag each of their belongings.

They stayed in the hospital another night as Vlad bought them each suitcases and arranged travel and ironed out legal matters. There was a lot less involved that he thought with taking over custody of two children. His hearing even picked up the case worker lamenting to another about how lucky those children were to have a well off uncle that their parents trusted to take them in.

He picked them up as Daniel was discharged, the doctors still baffled by his recovery from complete organ failure but not questioning whatever higher power they believed responsible. Jazz held her brothers hand as they walked towards Vlad and the open door of the rented car, a worker placing their suitcases in the trunk.

“Jazz dear, you forgot your bear!” One of the nurses ran out holding a brown teddy bear with a white mustache and crazy hair.

“I don’t need it!” Jazz snapped, helping her brother into his car seat. “Those are for babies and I’m not a baby!” She slammed the car door hard in the nurse’s face.

“I’ll take it.” Vlad carefully took the well loved bear. They had warned him that Jazz was trying to shoulder all the responsibility for Daniel and be strong. They’d heavily pushed the idea of putting both children into therapy as soon as possible, which he would take them up on. While he’d never sought therapy for himself, seeing it as a sign of weakness, these children needed any stability he could give them. His parents had died when he was a teenager and he had been a proper mess, these were literal children.

Daniel’s spirit was still bright despite the tragedy, asking questions the whole trip through the airport and staring in amazement out the window of the plane as they settled in first class. Jazz was silent, on edge and watching for danger. She squeaked in alarm as food was placed in front of her mid trip, both children reeling back in their seats and staring at the meat as if it would attack them.

He had the stewardess bring them the vegetarian meals instead, which they hesitantly picked at.

They landed in Wisconsin as the sun was setting, both clearly exhausted children stumbling through the airport as he herded them towards baggage claim.

Vlad stopped walking as Daniel began to tug furiously at his pants. The boy stared at him before throwing his hands up and waving the insistently.

“He wants you to pick him up.” Jazz folded her arms in annoyance, clearly bothered by the action.

“Oh.” Vlad stared at the child, hesitantly placing his hands under his armpits and picking him up, holding him out at arms length.

“You’re not doing it right! Arm around his back, there, put him on your hip.” Jazz coached him until he had Daniel on his hip, legs around his waist and arms wrapped around his chest as he snugged in. Vlad had an arm around his back to hold him and a steadying hand on his leg.

“Good.” Jazz nodded her head, picking her bag back up and marching towards the baggage claim.

“Would either of you like a snack from the kiosk?” He was pretty sure children were supposed to snack frequently. Daniel was dozing on his chest and didn’t respond, but Jazz marched into the small store and began browsing through the shelves of overpriced goods. She picked out two bags of peanuts and a bag of veggie straws, bringing them to the register. Vlad paid for them, weakly returning the cashiers customer service smile and following Jazz as she left.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“I can read!” She snapped, pointing at the sign ahead that said baggage claim.

“My apologies.”

He somehow managed to haul Daniel’s car seat and the luggage to the car while carrying Daniel, Jazz dragging her blue suitcase behind her with determination. It wasn’t until he was pulling and and starting the long drive home that he realized he’d forgot his cane on the plane.

[in-any-universe-ever]

Lucemond prompt - Kissing So Desperately That Their Whole Body Curves Into The Other Person’s 

Aemond spent the better part of the weeks following Storm's End wallowing in the mess he created. Lucerys was dead and the Blacks would plan their revenge, and this pathetic family squabble was an all out war because he didn't know how to keep his rage under control.

Part of his continuous self-loathing after the incident was in response to his punishment. There was real battle in the Riverlands, armies with swords and shields clashing against each other, and he was locked in his chambers alone, unable to participate due to his rash behavior. He'd thought more than once about sneaking out. Once he found Vhagar no one would be able to stop him, but he was guarded at all hours and at all exits, even the one he thought was a secret.

The truth of the matter was this: he did not try to escape and he did not seek forgiveness because Lucerys was dead. Lucerys, who had been a friend before the Incident. Lucerys, who had written him a long apology in High Valyrian when Aemond felt he was the one in the wrong. Lucerys, who walked into the hall of Borros Baratheon as an envoy, kept his head held high, and stayed firm to his promises when he knew it meant he would not sway Borros to his side. Lucerys, who held control of a young dragon when Aemond failed to control his. Lucerys, whose face and eyes haunted Aemond everywhere he looked.

Aemond did not know how to love a dead man, but when Vhagar snapped her jaws and broke Arrax into thirds, Aemond had known without a doubt that he loved Lucerys Velaryon.

So Aemond wallowed, and mourned, and loved a ghost until the day he received his breakfast with a letter sealed with a stamp he did not know. He studied it in the daylight - the wax was red and impressed upon it was a sun split into thirds by lightning strikes. The Karstarks' sigil was a sun, but it was whole. The Martells had a pierced sun, but it wasn't split into thirds.

He did not know it, so he opened the letter, and within seconds his heart was in his throat. He knew it at once, because it was in High Valyrian, although the penmanship had improved over the years:

I know you, Aemond. I forgive you your anger and your hurt and I beg you: see me. Let us speak the truth with no one but us to witness. If I am but a bastard and a traitor then so be it, but if I am to you what you have always been to me, find me at The Whispers.

It took no time at all to overpower the two guards blocking the path in the secret corridor. The length of his inactivity had left them complacent, so he hit both from behind, taking one sword and one dagger before he continued on his way.

Vhagar was asleep in the wood when he found her. She was pleased to see him, as he had not ridden her since his return from Storm's End. He chained himself in and ordered her to fly. No one realized his absence until he was seen in the sky.

It was not yet midday when he reached the Whispers, an ancient castle left in ruin. When he approached he saw no one, which was reassuring because this place was frequently full of looters and scoundrels in hiding. There was no such threat at the moment, and so he landed Vhagar a safe distance away. He did not want her to see Luke.

He wandered the ruins, unsure where his nephew waited, and kept his steps loud to warn Luke of his approach. He was beyond the collapsed towers, the broken statues, stone that was once kitchen or bedroom or banquet hall when he reached a cliffside.

He was there, looking at the water, the wind blowing through his fluffy hair and his intricate cloak. He looks whole and undamaged, but it could not be. That he lived at all was a miracle from the gods, and that he stood unaided was unbelievable.

Aemond stopped. Waited.

Luke turned his head over his shoulder, his brows knit with worry. Aemond had seen this look before. Luke continued to turn, and upon facing Aemond completely, Aemond could feel tears in his eyes. He shook his head in disbelief at the sight in front of him and whispered into the wind, "How?"

Luke shook his head in response, and his expression softened, the worry leaving his brow. "I do not know."

"I was certain you were dead."

Luke shrugged his shoulders and simply said, "I am not."

Perhaps Luke wished to say more, to talk through it all and understand how they went from friends to enemies to this, but Aemond could not bear it a moment longer. He closed the distance between them and pulled Luke in for a desperate kiss. Luke responded immediately, his entire body molding against Aemond's so they were practically one. Aemond kissed and pulled and kissed and pulled, their bodies as close as they could be and yet was still not enough.

"Do not leave me again," Aemond whispered to Luke. "I will not be able to live."

"Nor I," responded Luke, and they kissed again, hands in hair, arms around waists, legs entwined. Aemond could feel Luke's cloak whipping around him in the wind, and Luke could feel Aemond's hair as it kissed his skin as well. There was nothing on the cliffside but them. There was no feeling but each other. There was no sound but the whispers of this place, committing to memory the two who found each other again.

[geraldthellama]

Bowuigi Corpse Bride AU Lore Post

So I said I would probably make this and while I thought about making this into a fanfic and making ya'll read that, I decided that I need to commit to the other three (two and a half?) Mario fanfic ideas I have. So if anyone wants to make a full blown fic or whatever with this AU, feel free (but tag me ofc because I've got to see it).

(This will not be short, just a quick warning that this is a commitment).

This AU is very loosely based off the actual movie. Instead of them being in the underworld, they're just in a haunted house that Boo lost to Bowser in a game of poker, and instead of being a corpse (as the name suggests), Luigi is just a slightly annoying boo. Him and Polterpup are the only ones that inhabit the mansion, and, with the house completely abandoned, it's probably going to stay that way.

In this world, ghosts only stay after some massive traumatic death. Problem is, Luigi has no recollection of how he died, he just knows he hit his head and a little while later awoke, a ghost that's unable to be seen, heard, and is completely alone as a newly-deceased. Aside from the yipping ghost dog at his feet (Luigi has always been afraid of both ghosts and dogs).

As a ghost, Luigi originally spawns (spawns?) into this world with little ghostly abilities. Living beings can't see or hear him and he doesn't have the power to manipulate objects or people in any way. He is essentially a specter, watching the lives of other people for years until, eventually, it's abandoned, and the Peasley family mansion (one of many, that is) is gambled away to King Boo.

But, King Boos already got his own slew of creepy haunted mansions, and, frankly, this one is haunted by a ghost he can't stand. A ghost that hasn't been able to speak to someone for around a decade. A chatty ghost that hasn't been able to speak to someone for over a decade. He's not exactly torn up about parting with it.

Bowser, the poor thing, is on attempt...

Attempt... 2 hundred... something.

(at least 4 proposals a year, for around 20 years... that's...)

Let's just say, Peach does and has not wanted Bowser for a long ass time, and it really doesn't help his self esteem that he's still being thwarted by a plumber that's old enough to be his dad and uses a cane. He really can't understand what Peach sees in him, especially considering she still looks like a youthful 20/30-something into her 60s. Frankly, it's unfair. He's got money, kids (some really awesome ones too), power, looks (he thinks so at least), and isn't 3 pudding cups away from dementia.

What he hasn't got, until right now at least, is an awesome mansion, specially built for human(oid) creatures. Maybe she just didn't like gothic castle architecture? Maybe, as Boo suggests, he just has to get her scared enough to fall into his arms for safety. He's got this all planned out.

Boo did not specify that the "ghostly inhabitants" of this mansion were a hyperactive ghost dog and naive plumber. He didn't think it was important information at the time.

So, when Bowser is plotting and practice-proposes (does he really need more practice?) to the striking blue eyes of a, surprisingly, human painting, the last thing he expects is to be met with a ghoulish grin.

Barely ghoulish, because, god, the thing is bright. The smile and the bio-(bio?)-luminescent energy it's attached to. For a ghost who's wearing bloodied bandages and has been dead for 30 lonely years, he's surprisingly optimistic.

"Really?! And you're not even a boo!" :D

He's very optimistic, in fact, because he's willing to believe that this complete stranger might just be his ticket out of this wall-papered purgatory. He died meeting up with his forbidden love, after all, so it must be a sign. He does not hesitate to shove that ring on his finger, even if his new fiance looks hesitant (he might be naive enough to go with it, but he's not blind). He's convinced the two will make it work.

Luigi is... very tired of looking at the same things everyday. Now, he can attach to his new fiance, who's only slightly hesitant to engage with him, (and is not bad looking at all, in Luigi's opinion). Together, the two can actually have a life together. Luigi was only 25 when he died, and he was far too shy then to do any adventuring. The most rebellious thing the man had ever done was sneak out.

Man, look where that ended him.

For Luigi, this is his opportunity to live the life he wasted was robbed of.

And the guys got kids! How awesome is that?

Bowser is not liking the new pets at his side. One never stops yipping and yapping and one is a dog. Luigi is... fine. From a distance. The problem is that they physically can't get any. As long as Luigi is attached to him, consider them hand cuffed. This stupid, green boo is crimping his style, and any game he had with Peach is virtually ruined when he's got his "fiance" clinging to his side like he's the best thing since breathing air.

At least Luigi appreciates his kids. The ghost obviously has some taste (of course he does, he chose him for pete's sake), and Junior and the rest seem to like the ghoul enough... Even if Junior isn't completely sure that Luigi is a ghoul. Both Luigi and Junior agree that boos are scary.

Maybe, after some hard self-reflection (with Luigi close and present, of course), and some growing emotional intimacy and openness, Bowser begins to kind of, perhaps tolerate Luigi. Just a little. Just enough to find his stupid quirks endearing and just enough to start to think that maybe he's always been too good for Peach, anyway. Maybe he should be with someone who appreciates him and loves his family. It's not like her and Mario had ever had kids in their relationship, and her not wanting kids is kind of a deal breaker.

Bowser's newfound attention on Luigi is driving everyone else nuts, though. Boos barely seen the man since his unfortunate run in with the green leach and no one else at their poker table is any good. At this rate, Boos not even satisfied winning Peasley's riches off him anymore. Occasionally, a guy just wants to lose, y'know? Boo hates only one thing more than Peasley whining about the consequences of his gambling addiction, and that's boredom. He misses when the Koopa King spent all his time plotting against the old-ass plumber. At least then he showed his face at their meetings.

And when Boo finally brings up his grievances, because he deserves to rant, Peasley seems... nervous. Boo loves nervousness.

"There's a... human boo... in the mansion I gave you..?"

"One, you didn't give it to me, you lost, fair and square. Two, yeah, and he's just about the chattiest thing I've ever met. All dressed up in a white suit, the pretentious-"

At that, Peasley turns about as pale as a ghost. Well, if that were possible, considering he's a legume. Suddenly, he's got some important things he has to do somewhere else.

This poker table is looking weak.

When Peasley asks Bowser to meet at the mansion, Bowser warns he can't come alone. It's a stretch to get the green ghost to go back with him, and as much as Bowser wants to tell him "you're coming with me, whether you like it or not", he can't bring himself to say it. Instead, he convinces Luigi that it's a quick stay. Essentially, a welfare visit on the old house and a quick meeting with an old friend. Luigi's narrowly convinced.

Stepping back onto that porch brings back a lot of old memories for the human. Few of them anything good in retrospect.

But he does want to see his painting again. He always did cherish that painting. He's sure Bowser will too, right?

Is that painting a good memory for Bowser? He wonders.

It was all those years ago that a young Peasley gifted him that painting. Like him, he had been optimistic and in love. Even if his rich, snobby parents weren't a fan of the human, they had an entire life ahead of them. Peasley had made him a beautiful painting. It was the one part of the house Luigi felt was his. A good memory.

He never expected to be greeted by the same image he had all those years ago. Peasley, now older, stood in front of the painting. His face now wasn't proud or love-struck or whatever expression he had had then (Luigi can barely remember Peasley's face until just now), he looked somber. It was a rare occasion that Luigi wasn't green, and his teal glow seemed to throw Bowser off.

And divert Peasley's attention away from the miserable painting and over to the ghost, who was nervously twiddling his thumbs with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

It's not long before Bowser realizes that this meeting was never about him, and he feels more awkward than anything else...

Except that Polterpup has been on edge since the moment he saw the bean (now) king. Has he ever seen the dog not wag it's tail at someone?

Immediately, the older man apologizes. Things were never meant to end up how they did. He tried his best to help when he could.

Luigi's not angry, how could he be? Luigi's fall was an accident.

Peasley says he didn't know Luigi had stuck around, and if he had, he thinks he would have done things differently. He would have at least had the place cleaned instead of just letting it rot.

(So Peasley abandon the mansion? The perfectly good mansion for no reason, leaving Luigi alone.)

And, of course, Peasley's sorry for not telling Mario or his parents about what happened to him.

(HUH?)

He insisted that he waited for hours with Luigi, hoping he'd recover with enough gauze. The man told him it was a lost cause. If he could have saved him, he would have.

Hours?

"I was unconscious for hours?"

It came out as barely a whisper.

"I stayed almost the entire night. As long as I could."

Bowser didn't know boos could turn so many colors, especially that quickly. Bowser didn't think Luigi even had it in him to be anything less than smiley, especially completely enraged.

Luigi had never been more angry in his life (death).

Even Peasley's insistence that "You don't understand what they'd have done to me if they'd known I went against their wishes!" fell on deaf ears.

When Luigi's aura finally finished raving, Peasley had backed away from the now red ghost. Again, Luigi recognized the position they were in;

One of them backing up, away from the painting and towards the basement stairs. How could Peasley forget that door never closed all the way? It had only been the exact thing that killed Luigi 30 years ago. The exact thing that, of course, Peasley hadn't fixed.

Luigi swears he didn't push him, even in that state. Bowser believes him, only because the still angry and unaware Luigi yelled angrily down the stairs: "You better not die here, because I'll make your death hell!"

If they both hadn't just watched Peasley fucking die, Bowser would have kinda been into it.

It took Luigi a second to realize that even if his own fall had been an unlucky hit, Peasley wasn't 25 anymore. And he wasn't responding. His red hue didn't last long, especially when Polterpup no longer seems threatened (and Bowser notices that the bean king no longer seems to be breathing).

"What did I do?"

Bowser suggests fleeing the crime scene, which normally isn't his move, but he'd rather not be tied to the murder of a fellow royal. Luigi shakes his head.

This is his fault. And as angry as he still is at Peasley, he can't flee what he's done. Not in a right conscience. Not like what Peasley did to him. Luigi suffered enough sitting in that mansion alone for 30 years, and, as much as revenge tastes sweet, a small part of him still cares. Had he lived, Peasley and him would have had a life after all.

But he hadn't lived, did he.

Bowser can't remember a time ever seeing Luigi's color look quite as dull as it did then.

Playing with his engagement ring, Luigi thinks back on the part of the man he loved. Peasley never did buy him the ring, like he had hoped. Luigi remembers getting himself all excited over the possibility of a scenic proposal as they walked through the flower garden of the mansion. He had gifted him a painting. Which was almost as good.

He couldn't even count how many times he had stood and looked at that painting, thinking:

Was it worth it?

An apprehensive smile comes onto his face. A nostalgic smile. A somber one.

Doesn't really matter, does it? He'd never know if it was worth it in the end. This was how it ended up. Luigi had always believed that fate is what had brought him and Peasley together, considering everything else had lined them up for failure. Fate was what brought him here. What kept him here.

Who is he to drag down others?

He returns Bowser's ring.

"I'm sorry."

Bowser never deserved to have him weigh him down.

"I wasted my life chasing after a family I never got, and then spent my death doing the exact same thing."

Bowser awkwardly matches Luigi's bitter laugh.

"I lived my life, be it a short one, but you deserve to live yours."

Luigi pats the ring on his hand.

"I hope she likes it." He smiles. He means it. Peach sounds wonderful.

Tears prick Bowser's eyes, and all because...

He never did tell Luigi about him and Peach, did he? He can't help but laugh. Tears streaming down his face kinda laugh. The laugh you only get once a year kind of laugh.

"You spent, what? Maybe five non-consecutive years chasing after a family? Try twenty!"

Luigi's eyebrow goes up. This is supposed to be a super emotional goodbye and this goobers laughing? On about his conquest to marry Peach (who, apparently, is already married) and make his picturesque life. Luigi can't help but laugh, because it's so stupid that Bowser's laughing about this right now.

"Her and her stupid, human, mustachioed husband Mario have been kicking my ass for decades. I promise you, boo, you weren't ever getting in the way of anything."

Mario?!

"Mario?" (!)

"You heard of him?"

The excitement in Luigi's eyes (and aura) is obvious.

"My brother's name is Mario!"

With a look of determination, Bowser promises he'll tell Luigi the story of all his and Mario's exploits if he does him two favors.

Leaves this, frankly, ugly and decrepit mansion with him. Because this story needs atmosphere.

Puts the ring back on his finger. Because how else is everybody going to know they're engaged?

Luigi gives a grin.

He looks down the stairs. What about doing his due-diligence?

"I promise you, boo, if fate brought you and Peasley together, and pushed you down those stairs, and brought us together, and then pushed him down the stairs, fate is on your side."

Luigi's lips are still pursed.

"And it's almost sunrise," Bowser points out.

"So?"

"Well, we've waited almost all night, seems like a fair amount of time to me. It's obviously a lost cause."

At that, Luigi begins laughing. Not quite Bowser's guttural, teary laugh, but certainly a cackle. Enough to turn his aura back to a vibrant green, just like before. Enough to make him hunch over and take some (not really) much needed gulps of air.

When the laughing dies down to a hurt giggle, Bowser assures him that:

"You didn't kill him, Weeg."

No. I guess he didn't, did he?

Looking down the stairs one last time, (his death completely bloodless, the lucky bastard), Luigi's brows furrow for a second and he twiddles his thumbs.

If Luigi's learned one thing from being a condemned ghost, it's that you should take every chance you get.

The bottom of the stairs don't look so intimidating now.

"I...

I forgive you."

Maybe that is all Peasley deserves.

Luigi deserves to have another chance. And maybe Peasley does too, maybe he'll find one in the next lucky winner of poker. Someones gotta replace his spot at the table.

Bowser shares that he certainly deserves a mother to his children, and he's already got a quality candidate who's proved he's got what it takes. ("One who cooks, cleans, can't call in sick, die, and is pretty good looking! I hit the jackpot!")

Maybe, at the very least, Luigi deserves to see his brother one last time.

And maybe a few more times after that, for good measure.

Anyways so the original plan was just to have either Luigi and Bowser straight up immediately abandon the crime scene (not really crime scene) or have Luigi sit in the mansion forever and live out a miserable existence.

But I couldn't do that to my boys now could I. (But Peasley still gets abandoned because screw Peasley I hate that little bean man /j).

This wasn't meant to turn out in the format it did but, y'know, it did. Just know this isn't brief but also isn't comprehensive. I might (big emphasis on might) make a shorter headcanon post on this, but we'll see.

I hope you enjoyed. And sorry for the length, I am not known and will never be known for being concise.

[comingyourlugubriousness]

I wrote this a long time ago for Twst SMAU. Some lore on how Ghost King! Idia and Mario!Yume meet! I have a general plot planned, but right now I'm working on Ghost Marriage lore so I'm not sure when I'll get around to it! I have lots of fun with this au though! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

Enjoy! Writing under the cute!

Title: Ghost King Join's the Party!

Length: 6.5k words

“Whe he he!~ It’s finally finished!” Idia giggled, his sinister laughter echoing throughout the dark, cold dungeon. 

“This is gonna be the one for sure, no way he gets out of this one!” He assured himself, and himself alone as there was no other soul in the room with him. His ghostly underlings were all at their posts; awaiting the expected arrival of one, said Yuuta Midori. Idia sighed, his brows furrowing at the thought of his rival. 

During their last encounter Yuuta had “beaten” him…that part wasn’t…really uncommon. Yuuta interrupting his plans was a constant plague on his life to the point where he was genuinely worried about the amount of free time Yuuta had. But, even though Idia never won their encounters in a literary sense he had always gotten what he needed to do.

Sure, Yuuta may have stopped him from summoning an undead army, but he had gotten away with the necromantic book he needed with the spell. So in a way he was the true “winner” in their game. That is until last time….

Absent-mindedly, he touched the top of his head. A place where his family’s crown was supposed to be sitting.

“How annoying…freaking goodie goodie…” He grumbled to himself. Idia got careless with their last encounter. When trying to steal those parts for his machines he ended up losing his crown. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” He groaned aloud, drearily pacing back and forth as he talked to himself. 

“Those Toads wouldn’t sell anything to me! Just because I had some “terrifying and scary Boo's” with me.” He put finger quotes and rolled his eyes as hard as he could. 

“So what if they scared a few people!?” He shrugged. “I needed the parts way more than them!” He pointed at himself indignantly, as if he was having an intense debate with someone.”They weren’t utilizing the parts to their full potential! Just letting them rust away in a corner because they were too STUPID to see its value!” He growled, the long blue flames of his hair blazing a harsh red for a second as he kicked a loose rock on the floor.

 Idia yelped as it actually kinda of hurt his foot…

“But would that wannabe anti-hero with a mom complex hear me out?! Noooooo of course not!~ Cuz I’m just the gross, creepy, shut-in who lives with dead people!!” He complained dramatically, hopping up and down on one foot until the pain subsided. Idia’s voice simply echoed off the empty walls of his family's old castle dungeon. Only the slight jangling of chains in the wind through the cracks in the walls responded back to him…He stood there for a few moments soaking in the lonely silence as his face went passive and expressionless. 

It was fine…he was used to it by now…

Idia sighed, feeling ashamed that he was once again getting himself so worked up in a conversation by himself. How pathetic…

“Well…I guess it doesn’t matter. Once I capture that wannabe hero, I’ll make him give me back my crown.” He grinned widely at the idea, his sharp teeth on full display.

“We just have to-Hm?” He stopped, hearing a notification sound from his tablet. He lifted his cloak, sticking his hand through it to the pocket dimension inside and pulling out of his tablet. Unlocking it to check his security cameras feeds.

“What the-?!” Idia’s brows furrowed and he leaned forward; hunching close to the screen. 

There he saw a chaotic scene; dozens of his Boo subjects all scattering around, panicked expressions on their faces. They all flitted about, desperately finding places to hide and disappearing into old furniture. Through the blurs of barely transparent ghosts he could see the rooms of his family’s castle were a wreck, more so than usual, as if battles had taken place. Remnants of his puzzles and traps that he had so strategically placed were either rendered obsolete or smashed to smithereens. 

Did Yuuta do this?? It usually took him longer to solve Idia’s traps and he NEVER scared any of his subjects like this, usually they did the scaring!

Idia watched as one Boo ran right into one of his security cameras cracking the lens. What was his name…? Herbert? Idia wasn’t sure. He was never good at recognizing all their faces and remembering their names… it was always Ortho who…

His train of thought was interrupted as someone stepped in the camera frame. 

Due to the crack in the camera lens, Idia couldn’t make out any details, but he saw the Boo shriek and scrambled to get away. A blurred motion approaching the camera was the last thing he saw before it was busted. The camera feed going offline. 

Idia winced and sneered in annoyance thinking about how he’d have to replace that camera now. Though he felt himself beginning to sweat as he cycled through the other camera feeds, trying to identify or even catch a glimpse of his intruder. But he never could, they were always just out of sight of the camera angles or moving too fast for him to get a clear picture. Just a red blur? He swallowed hard; he couldn’t help but notice that the cameras he was following were getting closer and closer to his current location.

“Gah, geez what’s with this horror movie atmosphere!” He bemoaned, growling in frustration as another camera was destroyed, just one room away from the dungeon he was currently standing in. A few seconds later he heard a bang from outside the door. 

“Wha-! O-oh forget this!” He said, closing his tablet and stuffing it in his cloak. 

“N-n-nothing w-wrong with a strategic retreat! H-hehe?” he said to himself, laughing, nervously as he hurried to gather his tools and keys.

*THUMP*

He jumped in place and failed to hold back a high pitched shriek, his tools falling around his feet; as the heavy wooden dungeon door entrance was suddenly struck.

“O-Oh! Oh, shit!” Idia looked around frantically. The banging on the door continued relentlessly. It wouldn’t hold forever. 

Usually he would just phase through the walls to escape, but that was impossible here. The dungeon was designed to imprison even ghosts. He could try to take this threat head on, but without his crown his powers were so nerfed he could BARELY use them to fight. He let out a nervous noise, stepping around his trap's trigger, and cramming himself into a corner of one of the dungeon cells, crudely kicking an ancient skeleton aside as he did. 

With one final *thunk* the dungeon door fell off its hinge, a cloud of dust puffing up and a deafening bang reverberated off the old stone walls. Idia cautiously peeked from his hiding spot, looking to see this new enemy…

-

.

“Whoa~!” Yume yelped as they fell through the door. A small ‘oof’ escaping them as they tripped on the door.

“Oww…” They groaned into the hard wood where they face planted. Maybe they used a little too much force on that last swing? They thought, clumsily stumbling to their feet. They gently dusted themselves off, taking extra care to clean their monogrammed hat. Yu went to adjust their glasses only to realize they weren’t on their face.

“Ah, my glasses!” They panicked for a second looking around the dark room until they found them only a few feet away. They sighed in relief, putting them back on and taking stock of their surroundings. 

Yume glanced around the room, which looked to be a dungeon of sorts. A majority of the area was shrouded in shadows; only a bit of light coming from dull torches of blue flames. They could hear the slight jingling of chains as the cold air drifted through the room. Yume grimaced, their knees buckling for a second at the idea of exploring this creepy place. 

Ugh! They should have gotten a flashlight like Yuuta told them. They jogged in place for a moment to calm their nerves.  I’ll be okay, just some dumb little creep, I can take him! His puzzles weren’t even that difficult! Yume took a deep breath to calm down. Their face settling into one of determination.They would be fine, they just had to keep their guard up. 

With that thought in mind they grabbed the handle of their hammer, pulling it from where it was wedged into the door. The old sturdy wood splintered under the head of the iron hammer head and they made a small noise of effort as they lifted the blunt weapon over their shoulder.

“Eek-!” An unknown noise echoed in the chamber.

Yume whipped their head around towards the direction of the noise, but all they could see was darkness. Their first instinct was to call out, but they hesitated for a moment. Was it an enemy? Or…maybe someone who needed help? They bit their lip unsure if they should speak…

“Hellooo? Is someone there?” They called out, their voice echoing across the chamber. They felt slightly silly at how much they sounded like a dumb horror movie victim. But if someone was here then…well…it’s not like they hadn’t heard Yu come in.

Yume waited a few seconds, but got no response. They let out a breath through their nose…guess I have to do this the hard way. With that final thought, Yu tightened their grip on their hammer as they slowly and methodically began searching the room .

-

Idia held his hands over his mouth. Shit that was close!! He hadn’t meant to make that noise! He scolded himself for acting like a dumb protag in horror movies, the very ones he always rolled his eyes at!

 ‘C’mon think, Idia think, you're better than those idiot normie throw away characters!’ He swallowed hard, finding it difficult to focus as he heard the intruder stepping around in and opening doors in the other cells. Each time getting closer and closer to his current location.. He couldn’t run away, the enchantment on the dungeon walls prevented even ghosts from phasing through them and if he tried to run through the open entrance they would definitely see him!

The footsteps came closer.

He could try to fight but without his crown he was severely underleveled! He didn’t know the stats of this intruder yet, but if what he saw on the camera was any indication they were not just some random noob! He could easily get K.O’d if he wasn’t careful!

The creak of the cell door next to his opened.

Gah-! He was running out of time he-! Idia felt himself start to hyperventilate. 

The footsteps were right outside the cell. 

He hated this, why couldn’t people just leave him alone!? Is what he was doing really such a crime?! He just wanted to be left alone! Why couldn’t they leave him alone? He wished he was anywhere else, he wished Ortho was here, he wished he could just disappear from the face of this earth for good! 

Idia heard the door to the cell creak open and he gasped. Blinking away the tears and instinctually cowering and covering his face to hide. His bloodline powers activated automatically, making him invisible where he stood.

He held his breath as the intruder stepped around the cell, he could hear them, walking around towards each corner carefully until they got to his. They were so close, Idia could tell without even seeing them. Cautiously, he peeked through his fingers, trying to see this interloper up close…

Big brown eyes stared directly at him and he almost screamed in shock, but caught himself as he realized they couldn’t actually see him. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment, avoiding eye contact regardless.

He moved his fingers aside just a bit to see them more fully.

Idia wasn’t sure what he expected, maybe a huge monster or a large buff dude but…instead this person was actually rather short…? Glasses resting on their rosy round cheeks, wavy curls framing a soft face, and a small pout their plump lips as they carefully examined the corner he was hiding in. Huh? Who…? His eyes trailed down, catching a familiar attire

Short overalls and a monogrammed hat? Yuuta wore something like this though in a different way…was this person…related to him in some way? Did he send them? Idia thoughts raced, his curiosity starting to overtake his anxiety. 

If that was the case then…it's possible that they weren’t that much stronger than Yuuta… maybe they were even more of a scardy cat then him? At the thought a mischievous sharp tooth grin split on his face as he got an idea. A way to get this nuisance out of his hair AND avoid a fight with some NPC of unknown lvl. He just had to do what Boo’s did best.

As the person turned away from the corner, stepping over something and kneeling down to examine the entrance to the cell, Idia saw his chance. 

Idia released his breath, making himself visible and with all the remaining strength he had left called upon his power to shift into his ghostly form. He felt his figure grow, his wispy cloak merging with his body.  His tongue lolled out of his mouth as his mouth unhinged, displaying his rows of razor sharp teeth, his face twisting and distorting in an unsettling nightmarish visage. He loomed over his capture, now turned victim. Idia took a deep breath as he prepared himself to let out an unholy scream and hopefully scared them to death.

 He took a step forward, getting closer and closer, waiting for just the right moment…

**Click** 

Idia looked down with wide eyes, seeing the trigger of the trap release. Oh n-

Idia couldn’t even finish his thought as the trapped sprung and he yelped as metal sheets on the floor quickly folded up around him, locking him in a metal box. He couldn’t even scream as the small area encased him, forcing him to fold his body like a tetris piece just to fit.

“AHH-! WHAT THE FUCK!” He heard the intruder scream, then a loud metal thunk hit the trap. 

“S-shit!” Idia choked out, finding it hard to breathe. The trap wasn’t made for someone his size in mind. He tried to shift his knees to sit in a better position. 

This was fine, this was completely fine! He just had to get the remote from his pocket to release the trap. With great effort he shimmied his hand to his pocket to find…

…It empty?

“…!”

SHIT! HE MUST HAVE LEFT IT SOMEWHERE ON THE FLOOR! He had thought he would have more time to prepare before Yuuta came!

“No no nononono!” He whined and began hyperventilating again as he tried to kick and pound at the trap. Unfortunately, it was working perfectly as intended, leaving him with no hope of escaping on his own. What was he going to do?! It could be days before one of his subjects found him?!

A few seconds later three hesitant knocks on the container broke him out of his panic. 

-

“Umh…H-hello? I-is someone in there?” Yume asked carefully, their hand on their chest to calm their still racing heart. What the fuck just happened? One second the cell was empty and then they heard a horrible loud noise? And now this metal box was here?? And it was making noises?! Where did it come from?? Did it fall from the ceiling…?

There was no response from the box. So, reluctantly, Yume leaned forward and cautiously knocked again; pressing their ear to the side of the container. A few seconds passed but this time they did manage to get a response.

“H-help…!” A feeble male voice choked out. If Yume wasn’t literally pressed up against the box they definitely wouldn’t be able to hear it. Yume gasped, placing their palm against the box.

“Help?! Who are you?! Are you okay? How can I help?!” They asked in rapid fire, their instinct to aid beginning to take over. Yu automatically grabbed their hammer, thinking maybe they could just smash the trap, but then they noticed. The spot they hit earlier didn’t even have a dent…Even if they pounded away at this thing all day; it might not budge...

“The trap is too sturdy-! I don’t think I can break it!” Yume explained. They squished their cheek up against the box; now able to hear the labored breathing of whoever was inside. Yume frowned, their worry for this person increasing with every second.

“H-Hey, it's okay, it’s okay! We’ll figure this out…!” They said, trying to calm the person. An unsure noise came from inside. 

“I mean it!” They tried to reassure them again. “I heard that this guy always has an out for these kinds of things, there must be a way to free you? A-A key somewhere or-!” They did a quick once over of the cell but found nothing. Then the prisoner piped up.

“R-r-re-remote…!” His voice stuttered. 

A remote? Yume thought, then like a lightbulb they remembered. A remote! Yume reached into their pocket, pulling out the strange device they had found earlier in one of the rooms upstairs. They didn’t know what it was then, but thought it seemed important. Definitely a key item! Maybe the Ghost King had dropped it and misplaced it? HA! What a total idiot!

“Hang on! I’m gonna try something!” They said, taking a few steps back.

“H-hurry…!” The voice pleaded.

Yume held the device out at arms length, leaning slightly away, and pressed their thumb down on the almost comically large red button.

A satisfying *click*, sounded. Something inside the trap whirled and the metal plating shifted rapidly as the coffin-like trap began to unfold itself. The top of the box popped open like a trapped door. A cartoonish spring noise sounded, and the person screamed as they were quickly and forcefully ejected upwards out of the trap.

“Whoa-!” Yume’s eyes followed the motion, holding on to their hat as a blur of blue flew up past them.

-

Idia let out a shriek as he was ejected into the air. After being tumbled around in the trap he was completely disoriented, he couldn’t tell up from down; the whole world was LITERALLY spinning. Were his traps always this messed up? A few moments later he felt a moment of equilibrium, before gravity overtook, sending him plummeting down.

He was falling? Time almost seemed to slow down around him. Since he’d inherited his crown it was a sensation he’d forgotten…Was he going to die?  The thought crossed his mind matter of factly before the panic set in. N-No he couldn’t, he still had so much to do-! He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears as he fell, faster and faster. Idia pinched his eyes shut and tried to brace himself for the cold unforgiving stone floor…

.

.

.

“Gotcha!” Yume grunted, their small arms wrapping around the prisoner. Even as they caught him the force of the fall was a little too much for them and they both fell to the floor. Yume let out a groan as they fell flat on their butt. The person bouncing on their lap as Yu’s own body cushioned most of the fall. It knocked the wind out of Yume so they tried to take a few deep breaths. 

“Ack!” Yume wheezed as they were suddenly squeezed in a tight hold. Long arms wrapped around their waist as the trembling prisoner clinged to them like a lifeline. Wisps of blue overtook their vision as the person buried themselves in Yume’s shoulder. They felt small panicked breaths hitting their neck as the person hyperventilated.

The sudden closeness started Yume and they were a little embarrassed, but they set that aside, their practiced heroic persona taking over. 

“Hey hey, shh… it's okay…” They cooed, gently rubbing the prisoners back. Yume tried to pull them back a bit so he wasn't sitting directly on their lap. But, he  flinched at the contact, letting out a small whimper. He clutched the back of Yume’s hoodie more intensely, bunching up the fabric. 

Yume sighed, but relented, tentatively setting their arms around the person.

“Okay okay, you don’t have to let go.” They murmured softly, it wasn’t the first time they had to comfort a panicking victim, but usually it was only children who clingged to them like this. Though this person was clearly not a child, their tall frame almost completely enveloped Yume. If it wasn’t for how thin they were, Yume might have been knocked flat on the ground. Absent-mindedly they moved their hands around his waist. Actually, they were REALLY THIN! Yume’s brows pinched up in worry.

-

Idia was beside himself, he couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t the first time he had a panic attack like this, but this was one of the worse he’d had in awhile. Ironically, the only thing keeping him together right now was the very person who caused his composure to crumble in the first place. He hadn’t meant to cling to them, sure, it was a natural instinct when falling but… then he felt it…

The warmth of another living person…he had almost forgotten what it was like. Idia shivered as soft warm palms rubbed his back.

“...How long have you been here?” The intruder asked, sounding concerned.

How long? How long had he been here? In this castle; a glorified prison for his cursed family?  He wasn’t thinking straight, a part of him knew that wasn’t what they meant but…

“Forever…” The words just came out.

 “...I-I-’ve-” Idia struggled to speak, cringing at his own voice and giving up the thought halfway, choosing instead to steal more warmth from this person and burying his face in their neck. He caught a whiff of a fruity smell he couldn’t identify, but strangely it calmed him. 

The stranger didn’t seem to mind, in fact they held him closer, a hand soothingly patting his head.

“Shh…it’s alright, I’ll protect you… '' They said the words softly, but with conviction. Even in Idia’s skeptical mind it sounded reassuring. Though, it was the next words that really got to him.

“You're not alone anymore.” The person whispered to him as if it was a promise. 

Idia tensed, the words making him freeze in place. His brain jump started as he suddenly registered EVERYTHING that was happening. Where he was, who he was with, the position he was in. The scenario and sensations overwhelmed him, making him hyper aware of every stimuli in the room.

What the hell was he doing? 

At the thought he pushed the intruder away, scrambling away from them.

They let out a noise of surprise at the sudden shove.

“G-get away-!” Idia choked out, all at once the warmth from before left him, sharpening his focus. Idia crawled away until his back hit the cell bars and he anxiously gripped one. Uncomfortably pushing himself into the cold steel to get as physically far away from this person as possible. NO ONE had ever made him drop his guard like that? Was it some kind of weird power?  In his mind they were even more dangerous now then when they were just some OP freak with a hammer. 

-

The push knocked Yume to the floor. They grunt in pain as they felt their elbows skinned against unforgiving stone. They recovered quickly. 

“Ow! Hey! That hurt!”  They growled, giving into their first instinct to get angry. They were only trying to help this person and this is what they get. Geez! 

“What’s your fucking issue?!” Yume shouted as they sat up to glare at the person, puffing up their cheeks at him. Though their anger dissipated once they set eyes on this person; vaguely registering that this was the first time they could see him clearly. 

Bright golden eyes trembling with fear met Yume’s. A glint of sharp teeth peaked from his mouth, nervously biting thin blue lips. His pale skin seemed to glow in the darkness. The illusion only became more prominent due to the actual flames of long blue hair; cascading wildly around his shoulders and back; framing his mature angular face.  

Yume blinked twice, taking in the appearance of this person, a person who just a few seconds ago was sitting in their lap. Their face heated up now at the idea.

“Oh…You’re…” Yume started to say ‘beautiful’, but caught themselves, as they saw the man’s shoulders hike. Yu trailed off…losing their nerve to say what they wanted. They took a moment to collect themselves, clearing their throat..

“-You're safe.” Yu said, firmly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible; thought still a nervous laugh escaped them. “Y’know what, here let's uhm, start over!” They said kindly, shifting to sit on their knees. They clear their throat again, their nerves suddenly spiking  as they realized they were meeting a stranger.

“ H-hi, I’m Yume Ume! Part Time Hero! ” They tried to smile, voice a little too loud and gungho; as they awkwardly put their hand out for him to shake. He jumped at the loud volume of their voice and tried to lean back even more at the quick movement. Eyes shifting back and forth at Yume’s hand, and expression, skeptically.  He made no move to shake their hand, but raised an eyebrow at their introduction.

-

“Part time Hero”, that was the way Yuuta introduced themselves to people sometimes, too. Idia didn’t say anything but made note of it. A more pressing concern plaguing his mind right now.

“U-Uhmm…” He started speaking, cringing at his own stutter.

 “A-aren’t y-you….g-gonna to attack m-me? O-or s-something” Idia muttered, he knew he should try and put on his villain persona, but his head was pounding. He felt so weak, he must have used too much of his power… 

Yume’s eyebrows hiked up in surprise. 

“Huh?!” They were confused for a second, so he shifted his eyes to their hammer lying in arms reach. They followed his gaze.  “Oh! Oh no! No!” They said quickly, pushing the hammer away. It slid further across the floor, clunking loudly till it hit the wall.

“That’s not for you! That’s only for bad guys!” They said, holding their hands up in a placating gesture. Idia paused, his eyes widening and jaw going slack as he realized…

This person…this Yume…had no idea who he was.

“What’s your name?” They asked, further proving his assumption. 

“O-oh! I..umh…” It’s been a long time since he introduced himself to anyone. Part of him understood, why would anyone want the name of some freak like him. Even the moniker of ‘Ghost King’ was given to him.  Nobody, not even his subjects called him by his real name anymore…no one did, not since Ortho… He shook off the thought, not trying to go down that train of thought.

“M-my n-name-i-ts uh-!” He hesitated, bringing his knees to his chest and fiddling with his fingers. Unsure if he should tell them… In the end he decided it wouldn’t be worth the trouble of keeping up a lie.

“I-Idia j-just…Idia.” He whispered, peeking up at them through his bangs. Yume smiled at him.

“Idia…” They repeated, giving a little nod of approval. “That’s a nice name!” They said so sincerely it made Idia’s stomach churn a bit. Even so his face still heated up at the compliment, he wasn’t used to them. They went on, leaning into him a bit.

“Listen Idia, my brother, Yuuta! He sent me here to stop something the Ghost King was planning, I’ve searched this place to to bottom, but I still can’t find him, I don’t think he’s here so-”

“Wait-! YUUTA IS YOUR BROTHER?!” He asked in disbelief, leaning into them as well. Yume leaned back not expecting him to suddenly raise his voice.

“Yeah…have you met him?” They asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“O-oh n-not I-I’ve just uhh…h-heard of him…! Y-yeah, talk f-from the dungeon g-guards ehehe…” He lied, chuckling nervously, pushing his index finger together to stim.Yume frowned looking at him with sympathetic eyes.

“You… must have been trapped here for a while, huh?” Then their brows furrowed. “No wonder you look so thin and pale! That guy is gonna pay!” Yume said seriously, bawling up their fists till they shook. 

Idia let out a quiet noise as if he had been stabbed; any confidence he had plummeted to the floor and shattered, and he hunched in on himself.

“I c-can’t help how I look…!” He grumbled gloomily. Honestly, he had been called much worse by others, but for some reason the comments from Yume stung extra hard. He didn’t try to dwell on why.

“Ah-! Nono-! I didn’t mean-!” They tried, but Idia interrupted them.

“H-how do you plan on beating the Ghost king anyway!?” He asked,  looking at them curiously. This whole thing was a big epic fail, definitely one for his cringe comp. But maybe he could get some useful information from someone so close to his nemesis.

“O-oh well!” Yume pushed up their glasses. “ Yuuta told me the last time they fought, he managed to steal the Ghost King’s crown. We didn’t know much about it or how it worked. So, I was worried it might be dangerous, y’know?” They gave a small shrug. 

“Like, bro I love you. But you can’t just take freaky villain shit without knowing what it is!” They explained, and gestured their hand out as if it was an obvious conclusion. “Like that thing could be cursed for all we know!” They said, throwing their arms up dramatically. 

Idia’s eyes widened and how close to the mark they were, but he didn’t say anything.

“Anywho,  I took it upon myself to do a little research on the crown so my brother gave it to me and-”

“YOU HAVE MY CROWN!” Idia blurted, forgetting himself for a moment and scrambling closer to them; scanning Yume up and down to find it. Their posture turned a bit sheepish, seeming to be nervous at suddenly having Idia’s full attention.

“Oh no not on me I- '' Yume paused, Idia’s words catching up with them. 

“Your crown?” They repeated, tilting their head and looking at Idia with narrow eyes. Idia let out a noise of shock, only now realizing what he had said as well.

“O-oh! I meant- W-what I meant is um-” He stumbled over his words, bawling his hands to his chest. Unable to come up with a lie to cover it. HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID! He internally screamed at himself. 

“Wait a second…yellow eyes…and blue flames….” Yume said, their eyes carefully scanning over his features, he could practically see the gears turning in their head…

GAH, THIS WAS IT HE WAS SO DONE FOR! GAME, SET, MATCH! Idia’s eyes darted around, back once again in trying to find a way out of this situation. But there was nothing he could do, even if he ran they would definitely catch him.

“You…you're…” Yume continued. And Idia swallowed nervously, pinching his eyes shut and preparing his mental tombstone: “Death by hammer”.

“...A SHROUD!” Yume said confidently with a look of awe on their face.

“Huh?!” Idia said dumbfounded, his body untensing. It wasn’t what he was expecting to hear.

“Yeah..?” Idia nodded.”H-how did you know?” He asked genuinely surprised. His family was considered the stuff of legends. They weren’t recorded in any historic literature; at least not traditionally. Whispers of the Shrouds only came up in myths or sometimes tales of cautions.

Yume gasped, doing an excited little dance at being correct. Then they propped their hands on their hips, looking proud that their prediction was true. 

“I KNEW IT! Well not ‘knew it’, but it all makes sense!” They began speaking passionately.

 “All the books I read about the crown mentioned a family with ghostly powers that passed down the crown from generation to generation! Some books even theorized that the bloodline had ended long ago, but they were all so ambiguous and never had definitive proof! A story that inspired so much mythology couldn’t have been based on a simple fairy tale! Gosh, I can’t believe it!” They rambled on passionately. Idia simply watched them, overwhelmed but…unable to take his eyes off them.

“Um-.” He tried, but Yume went on, speaking quickly and manically.

“And AND, you’ve been imprisoned here all this time! The Ghost King appeared only a few years ago, so that’s when he must have stolen it and learned how to unlock the secrets of your crown! By imprisoning you! AM I RIGHT?” They asked, sitting up on their knees leaning in only an inch from his face.

Idia laughed nervously, blushing at how close they were now. It took him a few seconds to process everything they said. They had really crafted this whole narrative in their head without Idia saying anything. But the scary thing was how almost accurate their theory was. Sure, they were just missing a few crucial details. But…they didn’t need to know that. 

“T-that’s right!” He lied, nodding quickly to agree with them. Yume’s mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape, and for just a second, Idia found himself having to hold back a genuine laugh at their expression. It was the same face he made when his favorite TV show theory got confirmed.

“Oh my gosh…what a conspiracy! Yuuta’s never gonna believe this!” They murmured to themself. “Like, ‘Hey bro, that thing we’re using as a paper weight at home, it's a legendary artifact of darkness from a royal family.  Hey, who would have thought; not me!” Yume said, mocking out the conversation 

“W-what, you just have it at your house-! Wh- A PAPER WEIGHT?!” He spluttered indignantly. “YOUR USING MY FAMILY CROWN AS A PAPERWEIGHT!?” 

“I mean…yeah.” Yume shrugged, tilting their head and sheepishly grinning at him. Idia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity.

“I need it back!” He said desperately, even going as far to reach over and tug a little on their sleeve. 

“A-ah okay okay, we can get it back…” Yume said, placatingly patting his hand. Their faced scrunched up in thought. “Hmm…well actually it's kinda of a long trip there and back…just going home for me is gonna be a journey in itself.” They murmured thinking to themselves for a few seconds, before their eyes widened; a creative sparkle to them.

“Oh I know! Here’s an idea!” They smiled. “You need your crown back and I need more info on the Ghost King! So, If you're willing to, I can escort you out of this place, and you can come back home with me to retrieve it!” They said.

“Hm?!” Idia’s first instinct was to grimace at the idea of leaving his land. Yume noticed his expression.

“Hear me out…!” They said, carefully placing a hand atop Idia’s. Idia noticed it, but decided not to yank his hand away to keep up appearance. The warmth was already spreading through his skin, even with his gloves on. Yume continued.

“This way we both can get what we need and besides I…well…” Yu looked away shyly. 

“I wouldn’t feel right leaving you behind-!” Idia watched their face flush a bit. 

“I mean-! S-someone who's never really been out in the world on their own! It would be hard to fend for yourself!” They flusteredly explained, looking back to him. 

“I have connections back home too, people who can help get you settled back into society…you must have been so scared and lonely…” They trailed off, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, before continuing.

“So…what do you say?” Yume asked, looking up at him through their long eyelashes, they almost looked…nervous? Idia didn’t understand why.

“Uhm…” He looked down, avoiding their gaze as he processed their words. They didn’t seem to mind; not pressuring him for a quick answer. He took a minute, running through all the possible scenarios in his head and came to a conclusion. His gut instinct was to tell them no, thank them for saving him and run off; when the “ghost was clear” pun intended. He could just return back to his castle and fortify his defenses. And apt strategy…however…This might be his best and only chance to get the crown back…and he needed it soon if his plans were ever going to come to fruition. He knew could never get it back with a full frontal attack, not with his debuff status ...but a stealth mission….that could work…he just had to play pretend, he could do that. He did that all the time as a child and even now.

Idia turned to them, doing his best to maintain eye contact. 

“O-okay…I-i'll take you up on the offer…p-please take care of me.” He stuttered, doing his best to give them a warm pleasant smile and not be “positively creepy” and “wonderfully unnerving” as he’d been told it was by his subjects. Gently, he gave the tiniest squeezed in return to Yume's hand.

Either Yume was a big weirdo or he did a halfway decent job, because they beamed at him, looking relieved.

“Great!” And they grinned, as if he had told them the best news in the world. They helped him to his feet as he shakily stood; smiling at him for a few moments longer before they seemed to remember themselves, looking away and chuckling nervously.

“Well then-!” Yume heaved up their hammer. A glint of what Idia recognized as magic sparkled for just a moment as they wound up a big swing towards a crack on the wall.

*BOOM*

 Idia jumped and let out a noise of surprise as a large section of the castle dungeon wall crumbled.

The dawn of the morning sun shone on the horizon and the birds chirped, signaling the start of a new day. It was so bright Idia had to shield his eyes and instinctively tried to take a step back into the shadows. Through the cracks of his fingers he saw Yume holding out their hand. The rays of light from the sun enveloping them and glinting off their glasses, making their warm olive skin almost seem to glow. 

Yume smiled at him with a kindness he’d never seen from a stranger…

“Let’s go!” They said cheerfully, flexing their hands for Idia to take. 

Their words broke him out of his stupor of awe and he stumbled towards them, nearly tripping over the debris, but at the last second Yu caught him, lacing their hands together to stabilize him. Idia blushed as they locked eyes, seeing nothing but pure sincerely on their face. How could they be like that with someone they just met, weren’t they embarrassed? Idia looked away, but couldn’t help but notice that somehow Yume’s palm felt warmer than the burning sun on his face. 

As they began climbing carefully down the hill of the crumbling rocks, Idia couldn’t help but wonder what kind of mess he was getting himself into.

It was fine…he just had to stick to the plan. 

No mess, no strings attached, just play pretend…that's all.

-

UI: IDIA HAS RELUCTANTLY JOINED THE PARTY!

[gabessquishytum]

Thief Hob hears about some abandoned old castle that has some riches but it’s apparently cursed or something. No one wants to go near it, but they say it’s full of treasure. The royal family once lived there. There are rumors. The queen took her son and fled from the king. Some say the king killed his queen and son in a fit of rage. Others say they all perished due to an enemy plot. Either way, it’s empty and likely full of ghosts.

Hob doesn’t believe in that shit so he sneaks into the dilapidated old ruin one night in search of enough coin that he won’t ever work again. He walks through these empty dusty rooms and all that he disturbs are ravens that shoot up and out the broken windows. He thinks he is alone.

But he isn’t.

Hob comes to a stop in front of what looks like a bedroom and there is an abandoned jewelry box on a lady’s vanity stuffed full of gems and precious metals. Hob starts to open it—

Shadows creep off the walls and catch his hands against the vanity, pinning him down. Cold breath tickles the back of his neck. “You dare steal from me?”

More shadows twine around his waist and ankles. He feels a lean form towering over him, pressing close against his back, and he gasped at the sight of a beautiful, terrifying bone-pale face in the mirror behind him.

Dream has been bereft, alone for so long since his wife and child died. Grief has warped him into something other than human. It has been so long since he met another person. He usually kills trespassers there is something about this thief that compels him.

Up to you what happens next…

Ohhhhh yes. Very very good.

Hob has a quick tongue, fortunately, and he quickly begins to weave excuses. He was just curious, he explains. He didn't mean to steal, only to see for himself what riches might be left in this abandoned place. He's always liked pretty things, and how could he resist finding out what might be waiting for him here?

Dream knows he's lying, but it's been a long time since anyone wove a story just for him. He asks Hob is he likes what he found here. Does he find it beautiful? And Hob squirms against the shadows holding him, blushing and averting his eyes... he explains that none of the pretty objects in the castle are as beautiful as Dream himself.

It's been a very long time since anyone called Dream beautiful, and he decides there and then that he won't kill Hob... but he won't let him go, either. He pins Hob to the marble floor with bindings made of shadow and looms over him with a thin, wolfish smile.

"You will be my companion." He commands. "And you will serve me as I see fit. You thought you could steal from me, now I will steal from you."

And Hob has never been the most sensible man. So he just grins and spreads his legs. "Take what you please, my stranger. All that I am is yours for the taking."

[tantive404]

Leia Organa as the Gothic Heroine

“Through a dream landscape, . . . a girl flees in terror and alone amid crumbling castles, antique dungeons, and ghosts who are never really ghosts.

She nearly escapes her terrible persecutors, who seek her out of lust and greed, but is caught; escapes again and is caught; escapes once more and is caught . . . [and] finally breaks free altogether, and is married to the virtuous lover who has all along worked (and suffered equally with her) to save her."

-Leslie A. Fledler, Love and Death in the American Novel

The gothic novel is a genre of literature that has grown increasingly compelling to me. Defined by its mixture of romanticism and horror— or “wonder and terror”, with a “loose literary aesthetic of fear and haunting”— these stories are known for their forbidden castles, ghostly mysteries, and, most centrally, their heroines, fleeing terrified into the night in a flowing white gown…

Over the years the gothic has become a genre dominated by the feminine and by women writers. And even though the first example of gothic literature, Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto, was written by a man, the story is largely focused on its heroines. The central plot thread sees a corrupt tyrant prince pursuing a much younger princess for the sake of marriage and her desperate attempts to escape him, as she flees through his castle, through twisted corridors, trap doors, and all manner of danger.

I began to think of the relation between the archetype of gothic heroine and Star Wars’s female lead, Princess Leia Organa. After all, she is typically clad all in white and on the run from a dastardly Imperial villain of some sort. And it would not be so difficult for the Death Star to serve as an old manor, filled with secrets and danger… trap doors (garbage chutes), gaping chasms, masked phantoms (Sith Lords) and terrible, power-hungry old men.

The gothic heroine is a young woman often characterized by her virtue, innocence and beauty. She may be born into a position of high social status, with a wealthy or aristocratic family, or even be full-fledged royalty. Some time early in the story, however, she loses her privilege and power… orphaned, imprisoned, or otherwise inconvenienced. In Ann Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho, for instance, our protagonist Emily St. Aubert lives an idyllic life with her well-to-do parents, only for both to die and her fortune to be lost in the first act, where she is then given into the power of her aunt and eventually her villainous uncle-by-marriage, Montoni. Leia, too, was a happy and beloved child as the Crown Princess of Alderaan, even with the shadow of the Empire looming overhead… but is captured on a fateful mission for the Rebellion and sees her planet destroyed for her troubles.

And while a gothic heroine may be physically frail she has the mental fortitude and agency to be the one who drives the plot forward. Leia, too, subverts being placed the box of “damsel in distress” with her strong will and her active fierce participation in the rebel cause.

The consistent pattern of “escaping and being caught” is another that Leia follows quite clearly throughout the original trilogy… when we first meet her, she is fleeing from her Imperial pursuers, only to be overpowered and captured. She’s taken aboard the Death Star, endures torture, and gets rescued… only for the next movie to involve yet another game of pursuit between her and Vader where she’s eventually caught yet again at Bespin. After another escape, she opens the subsequent film with an attempt to rescue her (not-so) “virtuous lover” from his prison… and she is made a slave. She escapes with her own ingenuity to rejoin the Rebellion, is nearly defeated in the perilous final battle at Endor, but with the help of her allies, wins the day and all is made right. A typical fairy tale ending.

And then there are her villainous persecutors, of which there are primarily three— Vader, Tarkin, and Jabba.

The gothic heroine is often menaced by a powerful man,?usually bearing misogynistic or patronizing sentiments. He is dark and threatening, yet can also be alluring… and the heroine strives to escape his oppressive power. So too with Leia, as representative of the Rebellion, seeking to destroy the oppression of the Empire.

In short, Star Wars is a very melodramatic, archetypal tale, and Leia’s journey both illuminates and subverts that.

[super-mario-somethings]

twilight house fic ch. 1

[A/N: hello! i just wanted to put my writing out into the tumblr world and hopefully reach other fanfic writers!! plz enjoy this first chapter of my ongoing super mario fic, which is currently untitled, but there's ghosts, intrigue, cultist stuff, the works!!!]

It was just a house in the woods.

Unlike the haunted mansion he’d recently cleansed and fixed up, Luigi had known of the Twilight House since before he’d lived in the Mushroom Kingdom. Back in Brooklyn, New York, the Twilight House was the thing of children’s storybooks—not unlike the Mushroom Kingdom itself. But Luigi had seen the Kingdom, knew the castle’s corridors like the veins in his pale hands—and now, towering above him, stood the Twilight House. Most of the windows were shattered and vines twisted through its wooden frame. Various mosses grew along the foundation.

“Ready?” a delicate voice asked him from his side.

“Jesus—” Luigi jumped, already feeling spooked by the House’s atmosphere. The woman beside him chuckled and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. Dressed in leggings and a baggy T-shirt, she didn’t look like the Princess, but rather she looked like Sapphire—like her true self. Luigi felt soothed by her touch and her presence and allowed his shoulders to relax.

“Sorry,” he said. “Y-yeah, I think I’m ready.”

“Ready as we’ll ever be, right?” Sapphire winked at him, a smile on her lips. 

Every conceivable terrifying assumption about what was in the house flooded Luigi’s mind. 

“Right,” he said, doing his best to return Sapphire’s smile.

Luigi and Sapphire both grabbed their flashlights from their utility belts and clicked them on. They exchanged a glance tinged with nerves.

“All right,” Sapphire said, stepping ahead of Luigi onto the first porch step. It groaned under her weight—Luigi wondered when the last time was that anyone had stepped there. 

Sapphire reached the porch and motioned for Luigi to follow her; he quickly ascended the steps and crept closely behind her, his head on a swivel.

The porch had once wrapped around the entire house, Luigi could tell, but termites or some other critters had eaten away most of it, so that the other part of the porch was inaccessible from both sides. Luigi supposed they were lucky the front door wasn’t blocked, somehow, though he felt rather the opposite of lucky in that moment. The hand holding the flashlight trembled; Luigi fought to keep it to a minimum. 

In front of him, Sapphire took in a breath. 

“Okay,” she said through the exhale, and nudged the front door with her shoulder. The rusty hinges clattered to the ground in pieces and the door fell to the ground with a thud! 

Luigi caught Sapphire’s arm just in time to save her from falling inside with the door. 

“Are you okay?” he asked her, his voice unsteady.

Sapphire grunted and squared her shoulders, wincing.

“Yeah, but the arm you caught is gonna be sore tomorrow, I bet,” she said. “But I’d rather that than a face full of splinters from the damn door.”

Luigi chuckled softly, unable to hide the lump of fear in his throat.

Sapphire turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lu, you really don’t have to come with me—I mean, I still wouldn’t go alone, but I could ask Mario or—”

Luigi thought of losing his brother again, let alone in another spooky house, and his spine straightened.

“No,” he said. “No, I…really need to do this.”

Sapphire hummed sympathetically, then let go of his shoulder.

“Just say the word, though, and we can leave. Promise.”

Luigi nodded, and she smiled. She turned back to the doorframe, peering into the blackness of the Twilight House.

“Right, then,” Sapphire said, aiming her flashlight inside. “Let’s get going.”

🍄

Luigi frowned as he inspected the bookshelf before him, holding his breath as he dusted off the spines with his gloved fingers. Each book appeared to be leather-bound, the words on each spine inked in a script Luigi didn’t recognize.

“Saph?” Luigi called over his shoulder. He didn’t move his gaze from the shelf; a floor-to-ceiling piece, each shelf filled to bursting with knowledge.

Sapphire appeared beside him within seconds, eyes sparkling. “Oh! Books? Hell yes! What language?”

“Not sure.” Luigi pulled one volume out from the shelf at his eye level and handed it to her. “What do you think?”

“Hmm.” Sapphire took the book and shone her flashlight on it, carefully turning it over in her grasp to catch different angles in the light. 

“Something about this seems familiar,” she murmured. “Do you think I could open it if I’m careful?”

Luigi shook his head. “Remember, we’re here to collect. We’ll analyze what we collect when we get back to the lab.”

Sapphire huffed. “You’re right,” she said, kneeling to place the volume in her backpack. “Damn you and your overactive left brain…”

Luigi chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. Exploring and collecting with Sapphire always felt like something akin to coming home. 

Sapphire had just stood up when she furrowed her brow. “It’s…brighter in here.” 

Luigi looked around the room—sure enough, he could see parts of it that he wasn’t shining his flashlight on. “What…”

“Look!” Sapphire whispered.

Luigi followed her finger’s direction until his gaze landed on…

“The bookshelf?” Luigi said, perplexed. Either he had lost his mind, or there was a soft glow emitting from the old wood, from the aged books. He’d been staring at it for a long moment when he noticed it was getting tough to look at without squinting—was it getting brighter?

“Lu, shield your eyes!” Sapphire confirmed his fear with her command.

Luigi closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Was this the end, somehow? Was this bookshelf going to bury them both in light so bright it became thick and tangible, like gelatin in the oxygen, to be choked and gagged on until they just…died? Luigi’s throat tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

“Okay.” Sapphire’s calm tone directly juxtaposed Luigi’s own internal dialogue. “Okay. You can open your eyes.”

“What?” Luigi asked. He didn’t move.

“I’m serious, open your eyes.”

Luigi reluctantly removed his arm from his face and obliged, expecting to see Sapphire and reeling at what he saw instead.

A ghost. More specifically, a Boo—and not just any. A being Luigi believed to be King Boo hovered before him, its glowing gaze cast downward at him. A crown forged from dark metal floated above the King, a large purple gemstone seated in its center.

Before he could react, Luigi felt a cold sensation creep up behind him, and when he tried to whirl around, his entire body was stuck in place. A wave of exhaustion hit Luigi like a punch in the stomach. He felt his body relax; he still couldn’t move, but instead of being stuck upright, he fell to the ground in a heap. Luigi didn’t register that he’d hit his head on the way down; everything just went black, all at once.

[beevean]

This scene was supremely uncomfortable to write.

~

A certain vampire hunter named Belmont had stepped foot into Wallachia. Hector had never heard of such a clan, but Lord Dracula hissed the name with hefty wariness, and every creature in the room knew that he was no trifling meat to mince: this Belmont could be a genuine danger to the castle. Isaac had noticed him, apparently, and eagerly reported the news to their Lord like a dog bringing a stick and expecting a treat in return.

In that moment, Hector knew. He had to prove himself.

It was not hard for him to enter back in Lord Dracula’s good graces. A few apologies that meant nothing, a couple of languid smiles that cracked his lips, and it was as if their last “conversation” had never happened. He kept his promise. Hector had always been special to his Lord, after all.

As his chewed, dried out remains laid there, cast away as he had fulfilled his purpose, the one thing that pushed him on his feet and dragged him through the vast hallways was the mirage of the forest stretched for miles.

He wanted to die so much.

No. One step further. He had to live for a little longer. Death would not take his soul so long as Lord Dracula held his leash; Hector would not allow it. After he had broken his leash, anything could happen to him. He would die soon, that much was certain; at his Lord’s hands, under the jaws of his loyal hound, or because eventually his body would give up on him. But as long as his grave could be a shallow hole in the forest, far from the enormous castle that used to be his home, he could take another step.

(I’m yours, he had sworn. He did not feel guilty for lying to his Lord, for leaving the kiss of Judah on his blood-caked hand. I can handle the Belmont myself, he had promised. He did not feel guilty for going behind Isaac’s back and taking away the one chance for him to prove himself. He was the lowest kind of sinner: it was what he was born for. He, too, could devour them to the bone. They would both be proud of him.)

« Don’t you look at me like that, » seethed Isaac. Hector started: when did he get back to his room? He didn’t notice himself applying healing oil on his neck. « I asked you a question. »

Hector wasn’t even looking at him, really. He just happened to be in the way of his gaze.

« I wasn’t listening, » he mumbled, hoping that Isaac would leave him alone and knowing he wouldn’t. And right as expected, everything fell into place: Isaac’s cutting glare, the tensing of his shoulders, the smell of a storm approaching. Hector had played the script one too many times.

« Of course you weren’t. Why would you? »

« Don’t start, Isaac. »

« Or what? Are you going to cry to Lord Dracula that I upset you? »

« I’m not being the child here. »

« Excuse me? » Isaac bristled. « Who gave you the right to speak to me this way? »

« According to your logic, Lord Dracula. »

At that, Isaac lunged at him; Hector flinched, body ready to receive a slap, but when he opened his eyes, he saw that Isaac had stopped in an awkward position, with his arm half-raised and teeth bared in a snarl.

Hector was less than grateful for Lord Dracula’s distant protection on his body. He wanted that slap, now. Not to make Isaac happy in his misery, but because it would break one of the many walls between them.

The man’s attention was caught by the fresh bites on Hector’s throat; he had a knack for spotting them, unless Hector buttoned his collar so tight that it clasped on his neck. Now, slick with ointment, they were in full display, the ghost of Lord Dracula hovering between the two of them.

Perhaps, the more he bit them, the more part of himself he infused in their bloodstream. Perhaps that was the reason Isaac passed a thumb on Hector’s scars, with an ugly mixture of scorn and fascination.

(What did that make of Hector?)

« I’m surprised you haven’t dropped dead yet, with how often our Lord feeds from you, » Isaac commented with the impression of aloofness.

« Why do you care? » One last chance.

« What does your blood have that mine doesn’t? »

Hector pursed his lips.

Interpreting his silence the Lord knew how, Isaac replied to it by jamming a long nail in a particularly sore bruise; Hector hissed, and his hand slapped Isaac’s away before he could think of doing so.

And the fuse went off.

« Stop looking at me like that! » Isaac’s face went as red as his hair. « Like I’m not worth a damn! Just because you’re the Lord’s favorite it doesn’t make me inferior to you! »

Hector had planned to leave quietly, without rousing suspicion. He was ready to leave Isaac behind without thinking twice about what he had planned to do; he couldn’t delve too deeply into the consequences. He could still walk past Isaac and ignore him, slam the door shut, leave him out.

The words rose from his throat before he could recognize them for what they were.

« Then perhaps you should do more to be worth something. »

« What…? »

« What are you doing, Isaac? Slacking behind and stubbornly beating your head over the wall instead of listening to me. Crying that Lord Dracula won’t praise you and taking it out on me. Pushing me aside except when you need a warm body. Why should I feel sorry for you, when you treat me like dirt under your heel? »

Hector’s own voice sounded distorted to his own ears, jagged and unpleasant. As unpleasant was the visceral pleasure that seized him at vomiting the thoughts he had buried deep for far too long, at the sight of Isaac’s eyes growing wide and him stepping backwards, away from him.

He should apologize. He would never apologize. Isaac deserved to hear that.

But his surprise lasted for far too little, and he counterattacked:

« You… You would be food for the zombies were it not for me! You threw me away the moment I was no longer useful to you! The only reason Lord Dracula is even sparing a glance towards you is because I felt sorry for you first! I was ecstatic when you came here to study the dark arts with me, I thought you’d be… » A crack where weakness should have been. « How could have I imagined that you would have ruined everything? You are standing on my shoulders and basking in all the glory, and have the gall to pity me! That’s all you care for, selfish bastard! »

Oh, if Isaac thought Hector would fold like he would have in the past, he had no idea of how utterly sick of it all he was.

« I don’t want the glory! I don’t want any of this! » How could ever be happy to be a toy, to be coated in his Lord’s sick touch and sicker lies and expected to be grateful for it?

« Our Lord adores you more than anyone here, more than His own son. What more could you possibly want? What else does the universe owe Saint Hector, for him to finally be happy? »

Why couldn’t he have asked sincerely? Why couldn’t Hector trust whom he thought was his closest companion? He did want, and he wanted too much for him to burden alone: he wanted more of that sorry excuse of an existence, he wanted to cleanse himself, he wanted to live, he wanted out!

He wanted a friend.

« I’m tired, Isaac, and you never noticed, because all you can think about is Lord Dracula. » He would not wipe any tear. Not in front of that man who would devour him at the first sign of fragility. « If I spoke, would you listen to me? Have I ever mattered to you? »

« What you want doesn’t matter. You don’t matter more than Lord Dracula. Don’t you even insinuate that. »

The lack of an answer burdened in Hector’s chest. He wished he could be furious at it.

« I would never. Your world begins and ends with Lord Dracula. »

« And that is how it should be! For being Lord Dracula’s favorite General, you are obnoxiously dense! » Isaac spread his arms like a proselyte. « We were born and made to be His tools to wield. I am honored to be used by Him! I do not need a reward, unlike you: it’s about loyalty! It is the bare minimum of gratitude I can show towards the only person who has ever cared about me. »

Hector took the jab in silence. He would not try to defend himself.

« Do you think he does? »

Isaac stammered. « More than you! »

Is that so.

« You are the worst kind of liar and hypocrite. » Hector dug his nails into his palms, and willed his arms to stop shaking, even though he wanted to hit Isaac so hard. « You say that you’re loyal, but are you really? Because if you were, you’d stop crying and accept how things are! You would accept that Lord Dracula doesn’t give a shit about you! »

« Shut your mouth! How dare you speak in contempt of our Lord?! »

« I don’t care! I am talking about you! » Hector yelled with more force than intended. « If you were a weapon like you claim, you would not be here with tears in your eyes because I’m trying to make you reason. Why do you refuse to see reality? »

« Oh, do you now? Are you speakings from the heavens now? » In the light of the candle, Isaac’s tired eyes flashed a sickly yellow; with his gritted teeth and bulging veins in his neck, he looked less and less human the more he spoke, unrecognizable.

« You make me puke, Hector. Look at you, with that disgusting veneer of superiority, even placing yourself above Lord Dracula… You dare talking about reality? Well, the reality is that you are nothing more than a selfish little boy with an inflated ego, spitting in the plate he’s been eating, expecting to be worshipped because you gift us with the air you breathe on us. » He jabbed a finger on his chest as if to bore it: his hand, too, was trembling. « Never forget that when we met, you wouldn’t even talk, you were that afraid of me. You are here, looking down on me like I am your damn scullery boy, because Lord Dracula tasked me with making something worthwhile out of you. And right now, I am so close to breaking your nose to teach you the lesson you deserve, and then we’ll see how perfect you are. »

Hector let Isaac talk without interrupting.

He should have been offended, he knew it. He should have sworn that he never thought Isaac was inferior to him, he did it all by himself. Somehow, Isaac’s words reached him like a vision through a foggy glass: he had a vague inkling of what they could be, but they didn’t leave an impact.

He, on the other hand, yearned to leave an impact, for once.

« But you won’t do it. Because you are terrified of Lord Dracula not loving you. »

Why wasn’t he furious? He wished he could shout like Isaac, have his heart hammering in his chest, be completely engulfed by rage like flames devour a house. The man in front of him no longer stirred his heart.

What grew louder inside him, instead, were the echoes of his demon friends, always within him as they had never abandoned him – no, he had allowed himself to become them, and just like back then, just like when his mother dared to hurt him… Isaac deserved a lesson.

« I used to be afraid of the world around me, yes. But you are, right now. You are so, so scared of ending up alone and unwanted that you do everything in your power to make sure no one wants you and loves you first! You will drag everyone down in your misery, because it’s easier than clawing your way out! Forget about me – why do you think Lord Dracula would ever love a thing like you? »

And Hector kept talking, and talking, his words a river in flood; he couldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop, his voice spilled out of him like it was edging at the rim and it couldn’t wait to get out:

« You are a doll to Lord Dracula. You’re a cute toy to play with before putting it on its shelf, once he gets bored of you. You will never be anything more than a thing! And it’s all because of you. You chose to be a thing to be used and thrown away, because, because… because you truly believe you don’t deserve better, I suppose, and when I tried to convince you that it was not the case, you rejected me, because it scared you. You broke yourself into pieces for him, and it was for nothing, and now you’re angry, and you don’t want to admit it, so you thought you could break me with you. »

Isaac recoiled at every word like they were physical blows, and the more he acted like that, the more Hector felt the desire to twist the knife even further, because Isaac only roused desire in him when his eyes shone with bitter tears: he looked like the human he refused to be.

« You are nothing more than a pathetic, miserable thing, and you could have been so much more! I had always admired your passion, your wit, your knowledge! I thought myself so lucky to call you my friend! But there’s none of that in you anymore. You call yourself a weapon, but no, you’re a puppet. Who loves a puppet? Lord Dracula doesn’t need it. I don’t need it. »

And who cared if Hector no longer believed in that axiom, that the both of them had to earn their Lord’s love somehow? Hector had grown past that, but Isaac didn’t, still a child clinging onto the breeches of his father, and Hector felt vile and so satiated in plunging his fangs in Isaac’s heart to tear it to pieces, he would see how it felt, to be weak and powerless and despised! If he wanted to experience Lord Dracula’s love, then by all means, Hector would be all too happy to oblige!

« S-shut up… »

« Don’t you believe me? Why do you think that Lord Dracula refuses to give you all the love that you crave, but he’s forcing it on me? Whose fault is that, Isaac? What did I do, other than exist? »

« Exactly that, » Isaac snarled, and the sobs did not soften the spikes in his words. « Do me a favor, and go die in the next mission. Filth like you should have never been born in the first place! »

The air froze.

No one spoke. Isaac was panting, but Hector could not understand what he was thinking, he could not recognize his face. His head hurt as if Isaac struck a blow and his vision wobbled. It was not a moment too soon that Isaac spun on his heels and fled, and Hector let that stranger march out of his room.

The same mouth he had used to rip Isaac to shreds was covered in ashes. With numb fingers, he touched Lord Dracula’s marks on his throat, where he had ruined him. He decided it was time to go to bed. No map could have taken his mind off the flames dancing behind his eyes.

That night, Isaac left Hector alone, as he wanted.

He tossed and turned around in a freezing bed until the crows cawed and all of his focus had to go on the most important mission of his life.

There was no turning back.

[ferahntics]

Spectra’s Origins

So I wanted to wait until I had the motivation to do a full comic about this, but at this rate it won’t happen anytime soon, so!! Instead, will do it in this format where I throw in some images here and there ;v;

This is going to be a long post under the cut, but! Let’s get down to talking about Spectra, cause she’s probably my favorite character to work on origin-wise.

I’ve stated before that Spectra is an anomaly of sorts. She is a fusion between her real and Mirror self, meshing into this weird unstable mess that can flip between sweet and graceful, to violent and sadistic in a second.

But I never really went into detail HOW she became an anomaly to start with. So let’s knock out her old, real world self.

Spectra was seen as a matriarch, so to speak, to a group of Babut that were seeking refuge and cover from the ongoing war between the GSA and Nightmare’s monsters - and to avoid any and all contact with Dark Matter creatures. They really just wanted to find a peaceful location where they can live with as few worries as possible and away from any battles. Spectra was seen as a very gentle lady that didn’t discriminate, she took in whoever and welcomed them with open arms.

Eventually, after years of traversing, they managed to find an abandoned castle-like area, imbedded within a cliff, the caverns serving as tunnels and rooms - very welcome for a group consisting of bats that preferred darkness. It seemed to have been abandoned for a very long time, with no real trace of anything within aside from dust... and a shattered mirror.

Upon closer inspection, a being made itself present in the broken object - a spitting image of Spectra, with grey marks as opposed to her usual brown. The Mirror counterpart claims to have been chased away and forcefully locked within an alternate world, unable to escape and live freely. Naively, the real Spectra decided to keep her counterpart company and befriend her.

A decision that would prove disastrous in the long-run.

Over time, she helped a badly injured Star Warrior that had been shot out of the sky during a fight and landed near their home. She helped him recover, and trusted him to keep their whereabouts a secret, for their sakes. The warrior complied, thanking Spectra before setting off, his injuries mended, aside some leftover scars.

This prompted her Mirror self to question her naive and trusting nature - could the warrior truly be trusted? Was he going to stay true to his word? Or did he merely pretend to be truthful and would eventually come back with his own troop and attack her and the Babut. She manages to plant a seed of doubt in her real self’s mind.

And it piles on. The real Spectra begins to worry about being ratted out by the Star Warrior, starts to think she might’ve been taken advantage of. When a group of young Babut pull a harmless prank, her reflection would question if it was really as innocent as she thought - or if there was something worse under the surface.

Another concern.

And it only added up over time. One concern evolved into another, and it kept multiplying.

Eventually, her calm demeanor had diminished, and she became wary - gradually evolving into paranoia, flinching and getting defensive at the slightest and most frivolous things and reading far too much into it. She became accusatory, and with her reflection’s influence, ended up pushing everyone away. Little by little, the Babut left, thinking their once graceful matriarch had succumbed to a form of madness.

This left her alone. Vulnerable. Exposed.

And so, the one being Spectra started to think she could trust and no one else - would prove to be the true mastermind behind it all. Her Mirror self lunged at her through the Dimension Mirror when it was repaired straight at her - and attempted to use her Ghost ability to possess her. She thought that if there were only one of them - she could remain concealed, and eliminate a potential threat who could thwart her.

To counter and in a blind panic, the real Spectra uses her Mirror abilities to defend herself from the possession. And this combination of abilities ended up clashing together, causing a bizarre and intense reaction - merging the two into one unstable creature. Destructive. Unpredictable. Creative.

And no one would know how to deal with her. Or what was unleashed.

[vampire-chokehold]

read on AO3 DRAMATIS PERSONAE (in order of appearance)

PATRINA        archmage, lover, returned KASIMIR        brother and murderer of Patrina CHORUS       of vampire spawns STRAHD       the Devil of Barovia RAHADIN     loyal dog, traitor to the dusk elves

SETTING: The play is set in Castle Ravenloft’s catacombs, in Barovia. Patrina has been dead for more than four hundread years. It is the middle of the night. Kasimir has succumbed to the guilt and has broght back his sister from the undead.

PATRINA All men of Barovia are deserving of death.

Don’t look at me like that. You brought me back to life,  but your hands are stained with the same blood that runs through your veins. Dare you believe that forgiveness bears your name? That by a good deed your sins will be pardoned? Are you not, too, my brother, my murderer? Are you not he who put an end to my days by throwing the first stone that buried me, that stole my last breath from my lips?

You couldn’t stomach that I was better than you,  that your sister, a woman, was exceptional. Anger consumed you,  envy made a home between your ribs and, under my shadow, you planned my death. Over my body, you shed tears— but not for me, but because you had lost everything. Tell me, you treacherous rat, was it worth it? Do not answer me— no! I will never again believe in your words for they are as hollow as my sunken chest.

Brother, you were never on my side. When I was born, your eyes burned guilt into my skin. How could I, a baby, be so unworthy when I couldn't even utter a word, let alone lie or sin? Not even once did you hold me in your arms, not even once did you speak to me with love! Brother, what did I ever do to you? Was it being born a woman? Between my legs, the original sin— my breasts and mouth, temptation. And on my shoulders? The weight of an accursed race to redeem.

It was a spring night, the first time I learnt that one could see with other eyes; that love is written with fingertips on tingling skin; that lips can conjure the most powerful of spells and shoot with their kisses the sharpest of arrows; that hunger is not only hushed with food, nor thirst with the water from the rivers.

You didn't waste time hating him as much as you hated me. As soon as he uttered his name, I saw, written all over your face,  the desire to end him— as if you weren't a coward, as if you were born for something more than living under my wing. If only you had accepted your fate.

In the fire of your future, neither bravery nor excellence burned, and glory only crossed your path when you ended me. My death was your greatest sin, but also your finest work. And now, I too want to taste salvation. With the edge of this knife, brother, I will cut your throat, spill your blood, avenge my death and that of all my sisters.

KASIMIR Patrina, my sister! You have returned to me like swallows to spring, bringing with you memories of a life full of regret. Patrina, ghost of my nights, ceaseless hiss! You tormented me in life as well as in death, your voice an echo in my gut every time darkness embraced me. You asked me to bring you back to this land that never wanted us, that made us slaves to a monster whom you thought deserving of your love. For what? To seek revenge? When the metal sinks into my flesh, do you believe you'll find rest then? When my blood stains your hands, do you think it will end the agony of your existence?

Your death only brought misery to this sullen land. Now I know, the evil I awakened when the stones rained down upon your body. Your corpse, still warm under a river of blood— the blood of all your sisters. He killed them! That monster you called love! He killed them all— mothers and daughters, and suddenly, a silence fell in which I could only hear your screams.

Don't be mistaken, sister. Your heart holds the mercy I never knew. Forgive me, forgive me! Can't you see me, on my knees, repentant? Your knife at my throat, and this sorrowful plea on my lips. I have paid dearly for my transgressions, my flesh is not untouched by punishment. Can't you see me, on my knees, repentant?

PATRINA You speak of mercy with the lightness befitting a man. I wish you had felt the same when our gazes met in that clearing! Didn't you hear my pleas? Didn't you see my lips moving, tears overflowing in my eyes? Didn't you even feel pity for your sister?

Tell me, my brother: Why should I save you? Do you believe you deserve to live, even breathe the same breath as I?

You look at me like the lamb looks at the wolf and you think I can't see through those eyes. That you are wicked, that you always have been. And if I weren't your sister, would you have flayed my flesh? Would you have made me an example of dishonour?

KASIMIR If only you weren't my sister! I wish you hadn't been my sister. Then I wouldn't have wanted to protect you. I would have let that monster take you, make you his forever. PATRINA Protect me? You confuse violence for love, brother. And you speak of me as a puppet trapped by fate. But I loved that man whom you call a monster. KASIMIR Loved?  Will you kill him too?

PATRINA All men of Barovia are deserving of death.

KASIMIR Where is the love then?

PATRINA Where was the love when you murdered me?

KASIMIR Your death was an act of love.

PATRINA I will grant you your last words, brother. You can ask for my forgiveness, though to you I’ll never give it.

KASIMIR Patrina, you are both serpent and apple! If I'm to die by your hands, let it be with pride.

PATRINA So be it.

[Enter the CHORUS. ]

CHORUS Patrina! What have you done, child?

PATRINA I have killed my brother.

CHORUS And for what?

PATRINA All men of Barovia are deserving of death.

CHORUS Are you worthy of plunging the blade into their flesh? Are you, child, the embodiment of justice? How different are you from him when you've avenged the deaths of your sisters with the blood of your own blood?

PATRINA I am not like my brother.

CHORUS No, you are worse.

PATRINA Is vengeance a greater sin than it is silence? Should I have consumed myself in my agony, forever crying out for love?

CHORUS You speak of love, Patrina, as if you've ever known it. As if this crusade is in its name.

[Enter RAHADIN and STRAHD.]

STRAHD Patrina, is it really you? Is this mirage reality?

PATRINA The Devil Strahd, once again before me.

RAHADIN Do not listen to her, my Lord, she will ensnare you with her siren's whisper.

STRAHD Kasimir, you weak man, you couldn't bear the burden of guilt on your shoulders. I knew this day would come, when your sister would return and with this knife, kill you.

Patrina, old love, have you come for me too? Does the same fate await me as your foolish brother?

PATRINA Do not even speak my name— those lips are stained with the blood of my sisters! Empty promises and an insatiable hunger between your sharp teeth, nothing more.

I have engraved in my memory the recollection of my past life, as crystalline as the waters of this land. Do not try to deceive me again with your velvet words. I know who you truly are, Strahd von Zarovich!

You placed glory in my hands and snatched it away with the same cruelty which deemed you eternal king of this land.

On your lips, I read words I had never heard before. On my skin, you painted a future so bright that it blinded the rest of my days with poisoned hope. You didn't kill me, but your silence has always made you an accomplice.

Did you weep for me when your wolves my desecrated body— more of the dirt than mine— to your castle they took?

RAHADIN Dare you speak of betrayal, wench? I should have killed your brother too, his body rotting next to yours, so you couldn't return from the dead like a plague amongst the living: venomous and deadly.

STRAHD Didn't I love you, Patrina, with all my heart?

On your skin, I traced constellations. On your heart, I placed my darkest secrets. On your lips, I shed tears for my bitter existence.

And you say I didn't love you? That I deceived you? Am I not the one who lived in the lie of your love?

You have forgotten who you are, Patrina. You never loved me.

PATRINA I can't believe you. I don't want to believe you! You let my brother stone me— each lash coloring my skin purple and vermillion. You let your dog kill my sisters— they, who were not guilty of my foolish and naive innocence!

Why? Oh why?

You made me a prisoner in your castle, abandoned me to my fate, condemned forever to yearn for revenge. If you loved me so much, oh why, Strahd— why didn't you save me from myself?

STRAHD I would have given you eternal life if that night hadn't been your end. If only I had reached you sooner!

PATRINA You're trying to deceive me.

STRAHD That spring, Patrina, not only roses bloomed in my garden, but also hope in my heart. I had not yet known love— forever craving the warmth of another body, of other lips. War had made a cruel man out of me, I know. My calloused hands were unworthy of the softness I longed for. if death bore my name, could I be deserving of love, of forgiveness?

Then I saw you. Your hair flowing freely, and your skin gleaming dark like a secret yet to be discovered. A strand fell over your eyes, and I wanted to push it away like a desperate child. Capricious, an imposing curiosity. You looked at me as if I were a question for which only you had the answer. You turned around, and I followed you, enchanted. I walked behind you, chacing the trail of your perfume.

Oh how beautiful you were! How beautiful you still are.

You led me to your tent, and at the entrance, you looked back at me. With an invitation on your lips, you let me in— my heart, for the first time racing trapped in my throat.

You were never a woman of time. Always two steps ahead, you waited for no one. What you wanted, you took. And in that moment, I thought that you wanted me because you held my face in your hands— without even knowing my name, and you kissed me with the fervent passion of a sword piercing flesh.

From that moment on, I only dreamed of your breath on my skin. And while I wanted to devour you, your lips murmured spells and words of magic that— oh how I wished, had been words of love for me!

Your love was a window to the abyss. It was like gazing into a void so vast that you felt it would swallow you whole. Everything I gave you disappeared into your darkness. In your eyes, I could only see my reflection and on the other side, the hunger for power consuming you.

Patrina, don't you know? You and I are the same.

PATRINA We were not,  and will never be.

STRAHD Oh but that’s where you’re wrong. Patrina, don’t you remember? We walked for days. Sometimes in utter silence, you ruminating and me, as always, waiting. At the top of the mountain, the amber was a sun in the clearest of skies. The snow embraced the temple with its icy arms, and our footsteps drew an uncertain future behind us. You took my hand in yours, we ran breathlessly. I had never seen your eyes so lively and hungry. How I loathed that hunger was not for me.

That temple hid the most obscure of secrets, even darker than mine. The voices, oh the voices! They whispered into my heart, Patrina, but I didn’t want to listen to them because they spoke of you, of the truth behind your love.

PATRINA And what truth might that be?

STRAHD That is of no importance now, old love. You’ve come back and now nothing is standing in our way.

PATRINA Do you think me a fool? Could I ever trust that mouth which only knows how to lie? Do you really think I came back for you? You speak of treason as if your loyalty doesn’t bear a price, as if your love for me  was ever unconditional. It never was, I know!

You longed for greatness as much as I— don’t fool yourself. You do not fool me! Under the bright orange of the amber, there I saw in your eyes the same desperation that haunted my very being.

And when I died? Tell me, Strahd— did you weep for me? DID YOU WEEP?

RAHADIN Do not come any closer, viper! No one remembers your name— after four hundred years trapped in the darkness of this castle,  no one even knows who you are.

PATRINA And you, who are you? Loyal dog of yet to be honed teeth. If I kill you here and now— do you think your master will even lament your loss? I can hear the screams of my sisters— they yet linger to your skin. Still you smell of warm blood. Tell me, traitor— how does it feel to slaughter the sheep of your flock? Do you feel more wolf— less of a treacherous dog?        None of this is yours.

RAHADIN Gladly I massacred the dusk elves and cursed their future with my scimitar. Oh the sweet stench of their guts and the metal together in the most macabre poem ever to be written in this land! The only thing I do regret is not making a coat out of your skin, wench.

Loyal dog you call me? That I am— you wouldn’t know what loyalty is, the sense of duty, the most purest submission one has to offer with their own life.

Patrina. From the lowest of scum, one can never make a queen.

PATRINA Rahadin! I curse your sole existence! May the Gods damn you forever to roam in the shadows. May the Gods grant you no rest,  neither in this life nor in the next. Die, Rahadin! Die by my hands,  as my brother did! I will savour your death as the hungry the rotten fruit.

RAHADIN [To STRAHD. ] Will you let her kill me?

STRAHD Are you not deserving of a pardon?

RAHADIN Will you let her kill me? Ah!—

CHORUS In silence, I’ve watched closely. Is vengeance the way, child? Two men have been killed— same knife, different wounds. The blood— alike.

Oh Patrina! What have you done?

PATRINA Don’t you see? I said: All men of Barovia are deserving of death. And I always keep my word. I will carve my rage into their flesh and my name on their lips will forever remain until the end of time. Forget me, you say? I am Patrina, cursed daughter!

[To STRAHD. ] When I end you, will you speak my name one last time? I’ve always loved how it sounded on your tongue.

CHORUS Child, you don’t know what you’re saying. Only men die by the blade. But he’s no ordinary man, no— he is something else.

PATRINA Oh but I know. The heart still, the lungs hollow in the chest— eternity as an unbreakable thread! The promise of immortality, the biggest of lies ever said.

STRAHD Oh Patrina, enchantress of my nights, I would have given you all if only your brother— Kasimir, you poor excuse of a man— if only you wouldn’t have taken her from me!

PATRINA I hold your face in my hands and I remember the first time I tasted your lips,  the first time I felt your warmth under my fingertips. Was happiness not written for us in our wretched destiny? How I loved you, Strahd— but how I loved the life that was taken from me!

Oh the pain and sorrow that caves my chest in!

STRAHD But we can finish what we started. Perhaps kindness can blossom amongst the mist.

PATRINA Kindness is a choice we make. One I don't want to take. I will only find solace when you turn to dust; when this stake, driven into your chest, puts an end to your days.

STRAHD Do you believe you can kill me? Bury the stake, right here. Let's do it together, Patrina.

PATRINA Let me go. Don't touch me! You won't deceive me again.

STRAHD Kill me, Patrina, infernal punishment! Do you think I won't return? Do you think my torment will end with you?

CHORUS Listen to him, child. The curse cannot be broken.

PATRINA Even if you return, I will know. Even if you return, I will have consumed my revenge. Nothing matters anymore, for I am alone and cursed.

Any last words?

STRAHD I loved you. I still love you.

PATRINA Your love is not honest enough to save you. Now, close your eyes.

STRAHD Patrina!—

CHORUS He is not dead, child. He will return.

PATRINA But I won't be here, no—

CHORUS Patrina!

Cursed child, dead. What have you done?

[Three bodies lay on the cold stone floor of Castle Raveloft, their blood a river of red. Of the other, only dust remains.]

[bridenore]

Harry / Draco recs : personal favourites 2015-2019

Here are 15 of my favourites drarry fics written between 2015 and 2019. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered [153k]

Harry gets de-aged.  Malfoy has to help him.

Embers by @shiftylinguini [41k]

Werewolf Alphas aren’t meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice.

Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

Freedom to be by @quicksilvermaid [169k]

Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived.

12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends.

Only nothing feels perfect.

Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre [122k]

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

Kiss Me (Under the Light of a Thousand Stars) by @sophiefrench77 [114k]

Harry rescues Draco Malfoy from Azkaban, where he has been imprisoned for three years after the war. Draco is not as Harry remembers, as Azkaban leaves its mark on even the strongest of wizards. With no memory of who he was or how he came to be in Harry’s care, Draco needs Harry’s help if he is to have any hope of making a full recovery. But Harry has his own demons to fight and together with saving Draco, Harry must also discover a way to find himself.

Lumos by birdsofshore [41k]

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

The Nightmare Club by Elle Gray [85k]

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn’t. Harry hasn’t decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he’s responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don’t worry, there’s tea!

Ocean of Storms by Bounding-Heart [113k]

The war is over and Harry has returned to help rebuild Hogwarts. He longs to move forwards, but the past refuses to let him go. The castle is full of ghosts: haunting nightmares, the deaths he couldn't prevent, and the age-old rivalry that Draco Malfoy seems determined to maintain.

Of Wands and Trees by Omi_Ohmy [45k]

All Draco wants to do is be a wandmaker, but to do so he needs to understand the soul of trees. Of course, the only man who might be able to help him is the one man who is more of a mystery to him than any tree.

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k]

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory.

Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.

Malfoy felt inevitable.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena [128k]

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Harry. Hiding out with Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Things Worth Knowing by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [164k]

After the Battle, Harry thinks he’s left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco’s just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He’s hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems. And that’s not even addressing the fact that Potter’s got serious issues of his own, which Draco realises as he’s forced to share an Eighth Year dormitory room and several classes with the Gryffindor Git. If only they can make it through the year without killing each other, it should be all right, shouldn’t it?

Turn From Stone by @harryromper [45k]

Something happened in the hours after the final battle, after the evacuation of the living and the dead. As the last of the survivors left the castle, and as the castle itself turned its wounded back on them all. The loss of Hogwarts has been felt by their entire community. And it’s something that needs to be put right.  

Harry knows there’s nothing he can do to stop Hermione (war hero, historian, author of the reissued “Hogwarts: A History”) once she sets her mind to something. Even an extremely risky last-ditch effort to restore the ancient castle and lay its newest ghosts to rest. What he wasn’t counting on was her insistence that Draco Malfoy be part of the plan.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way To Burn) by @femmequixotic [22k]

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop [113k]

Harry doesn’t mind that so many Slytherins from his year have returned to finish their NEWTs, really he doesn’t. It’s just – do they have to be so friendly? He’s not prejudiced, really he’s not. It’s just – they’ve got to be up to something, right? Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

When he’s hit by an illegal love-spell though, Harry finds he has more to worry about than whether or not Blaise Zabini actually wants to be his friend. For if everyone affected has been blessed – or cursed, by the look on Malfoy’s face – with a magical tattoo revealing the name of their soulmate, what does it mean that Harry’s skin remains completely bare?

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!  

[and-so-he-rambled]

An accident claims the lives of Maddie and Jack Fenton, orphaning their six and four year old children, due to Jacks will, Vlad is given full custody.

He wants to hate them, to see the mistakes their father made in their eyes, but instead he just sees the past. He sees Maddie’s spark and Jack’s big heart, and the thought of losing the last pieces of the past is too much.

He has no idea what he’s doing, two kids in his castle. Jazz is bottling things up and trying to keep Danny happy, who doesn’t fully understand anything that happened. He doesn’t want to let Maddie down, doesn’t want to lose himself to the obsessive need to look for her ghost, he needs to take care of what they left him, trusted him with.

How does it go from there? No idea. Does the accident still happen? Probably, but by then Vlad isn’t a fruit loop and Danny isn’t alone, he actually teaches him about what he is and feels bad his portal killed Danny the way Jack’s killed him. Jazz sees Vlad as an uncle, Danny sees him more as a dad. If Dani ever happens I like to imagine Vlad just really wanted another kid.

Dad Vlad, that’s it.

Had this ever been written? If so for the love of god send it my way.

[goalieprotectionsquad]

✧･ﾟ: * July 2022 Harringrove Starter Pack PART TWO! *:･ﾟ✧

I’m BACK. with starter pack part 2. don’t cream your pants. I still haven’t finished my paper and I definitely haven’t gotten any work tasks done today. 

this list features only one fic per author so we can celebrate even more creators  ♡ ♡ ♡ (thank you @hecatescrossroads for the idea!!)

◢ Billy Hargrove Needs a Nap - lilpeas [74,312; E]

It’s one thing to be a light sleeper in this shitty town that won’t shut up at night, but it’s another thing entirely to fall asleep on Steve Harrington’s shoulder during last period English.

◢ break (like waves) - @witchsickness [93,187; E]

‘We’re good together,’ Harrington says to the darkness above. Not a question. Matter of fact. He turns to Billy, a smile sweet enough to make Billy want to do something reckless. Something stupid. ‘I’m telling you, heartbreaker. We’re gonna be unstoppable.’

Billy wants to ask. If he means tomorrow. If he means just for the game.

Wants to ask if he means forever.

He’s never wanted anyone to mean forever before.

or; falling (in love), the hard way

◢ break up with your girlfriend (’cause i’m bored) - @the-copperkid [15,604; E]

@umissedconnections: Bambi eyes. m4m. i was rippin cigs in the sae p-lot. u made urself puke 2 make room 4 more beer. incredible? ur my hero PLS say ur into guys

* Steve finds he has a secret admirer who's continuously hitting on him via his university's Missed Connections Twitter account. // Tommy and Billy are the worst roommates ever.

◢ Cabbage Patch Kids - @callieb [15,026; NR]

Billy doesn't eat vegetables. He doesn't eat the limp disgusting cabbage they hand out in the school cafeteria, won't touch the merest hint of green in Susan's cooking even when his dad is glaring at him across the table. He won't eat vegetables to keep himself healthy, in spite of all the warnings they give him in health class.

He won't even eat vegetables when Steve Harrington cooks him dinner. Right?

◢ cherry pie - @brawlite and @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger [133,828; E]

Billy Hargrove lives for summer. Endless sunshine, heavily chlorinated pools, roaming ice cream trucks, and unencumbered freedom? There’s nothing better.

Even being stuck in Hawkins can’t ruin the summer for him. He eats it up, devouring every day whole.

◢ dried up, half full - @lymricks [60,016; E]

Steve’s been coming out here searching for a monster in the woods. He’s finally found one.

“What do you want, Hargrove?”

◢ falling for you in hawkins, indi-fucking-ana (series) - @lazybakerart [294,822+; E]

Billy gets his shit together. Steve figures some stuff out. They fall in love.

◢ i hear the secrets that you keep (when you’re talking in your sleep)  - @oepheliawrites​ [45,095; M]

Billy’s there the way that he’s a lot of places nowadays, sort of absent-mindedly, like he’s not sure how it happened or why and is going somewhere else in his mind anyway.

Steve watches him more than ever now, and Billy rarely watches back.

(or five times billy really needed some sleep, and one time he needed something else entirely)

◢ Incident at Castle Byers - @flippyspoon [3,639; G]

Will learns something about Billy Hargrove and feels a little less alone.

◢ if i fall asleep with my hands held tight - @elysiumwaits [28,796; M]

Billy keeps sneaking in Steve's window as the months go on: a story in ten parts.

◢ lover with a radar phone (series) - @bewires [86,717; E]

Steve is sure Billy won’t be back for more after the first time. Why would he? Steve’s pretty aware, at this point, that beyond his epic babysitting game and his hair, he has fairly little to offer in life. Billy’s gorgeous, and he’s smart, and he’s got better things to do than nail Nancy Wheeler’s dumbass ex-boyfriend.

(Spoilers: Billy absolutely does not.)

◢ Take Me Home Tonight - @heckinahandbasket​ [81,998; E]

The ghost of Billy Hargrove leaned in the open window of Steve’s car with that trademark smirk and, honestly, Steve was kind of impressed by how detailed his own hallucination could be. “Wanna fuc-What the shit? HARRINGTON?” They blinked at one another for about ten seconds before Steve’s brain finally managed to fire off a thought. “You’re real?” Steve couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of his mouth, his own stupidity a constant echo in his empty head. Billy’s face reflected his thoughts as he yanked on the door handle until Steve reached over to hit the lock with shock-numb fingers. “Real fucking freezing. Let me in, pencil dick.”

Or: The Pretty Woman AU literally nobody asked for.

◢ Under the Covers - @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger [87,788; M]

Steve is (maybe) a little bit still in love with Nancy Wheeler and (maybe) trying to figure himself out-- between the night terrors and the babysitting and the general weirdness that is Hawkins, Indiana-- before he graduates.

Billy Hargrove fits in there somewhere (probably).

◢ when the bones are good - @un-buttoned [28,411; E]

‘So,’ Tommy says around a mouthful of fries, ‘what the fuck is the deal with you and Hargrove?’

And that’s really the goddamn question, isn’t it?

He wants to know Billy. Wants to know why he is the way he is. Wants to be able to figure out what the fuck he’s thinking when he looks at Steve like that, when he touches him like it doesn’t mean shit and like it means everything all at once. Wants to know why he talks so much shit, why he needs to fight, where all that fire comes from. Why he’s so volatile, why he’s such an asshole, how he can be so fucking mean and so fucking sweet in the span of seconds, at the same time, even.

◢ you’re cold (and i burn) - @keroujack [55,919; E]

Move on. Let it heal.

Maybe that’s why Steve said yes when Max asked him to help move boxes out of Billy’s room after the dust settled. He could hear her voice. Too many. Too heavy.

Just like his wounds. His grief. Too many. Too heavy.

(Or, Steve steals the glass ashtray from Billy's bedside table and things start to go bump in the night.)

◢ Yourself or Someone Like You (series) - halfempty [792,802; E]

Maxine looked happy as they parted from Steve and walked down Main Street away from the theater. She slid into the passenger seat of Billy’s car. 'That was really fun,' she said. She looked at him like a gremlin and then smiled real cutesy. 'Did you and Steve hold hands in the popcorn?'

'I hope you had a real good time, I’m going to kill you in your sleep tonight,' Billy told her.

[charmsandtealeaves]

@jilymicrofics | February Prompt List| No.13: promise

Words: 624 Read on AO3

They walked across the grounds under the invisibility cloak. James leading the way towards the whomping willow, which was dimly illuminated by crescent moon. Why he had been so insistent they traipse so far from the castle in order for her to her to learn some sort of secret Lily hadn’t the foggiest. There were plenty of secluded spots known to her boyfriend where they could have spoken freely.

Worry crept into her thoughts as they got closer and closer to the willow. Trees didn’t have eyes but the cloak surely couldn’t hide their presence from the merciless branches. It had to sense them somehow, walking over its very roots.

“Stay close now. This is the tricky bit. We have to move quickly,” James warned, pulling Lily flush against his back.

They made a mad dash for the willow’s trunk and James tapped a small knot near the base. The tree’s limbs froze.

“Down here.”

Lily followed James through an underground tunnel. It was dark and felt damp. Unlike other secret passages he had shown her, this one felt ominous.

“Where does this go James?” Lily asked.

“Hogsmeade, the Shrieking shack. Not far to go now.” James voice sounded shaky.

Their arrival in the shack was clearly anticipated, Remus, Sirius and Peter were all waiting for them as they entered the main room.

“Alright you guys are actually scaring me now. What’s going on?” Lily scanned their faces.

Lupin’s brow was sweaty, Peter would not meet her eye and Sirius was looking directly at Remus.

“There’s been something I’ve been keeping secret from you. But it’s not mine alone to share as it involves all of us. We figured it was best we did it together.” James said, waking to join his friends.

“I don’t see why we had to be here… even the ghosts don’t come here.”

“Because of me. It’s my screams the villagers hear once a month.” Remus said calmly.

“This is where you transform… so you’re away from the school.” Lily murmured. Remus nodded.

“But… why couldn’t you just tell me back at the castle?”

“Too many portraits. There’s not many private places for all of us to go with enough space. The castle is too risky. We could easily be caught.” Sirius supplied.

“Alright. Out with it.”

“It’s best we show you.” James said.

Remus moved away from the other three and came to stand beside Lily. She watched as the three remaining boys lined themselves up side by side. James gave Sirius and Peter a brief nod before shifting.

Where James once stood was now an elegant stag. Sirius changed to become a shaggy black dog, and Peter was one second a boy, the next a rat. Lily’s mouth unashamedly hung open. They were animagi.

“How the fu-”

“A lot of patience and practice,” Remus didn’t even let her finish her sentence. “The wolf can’t turn them as animals. I do less damage to myself with them there. The wolf is more tame.”

“So what the lot of you galavant in here every full moon? Are the lot of you mad?!”

The boys shifted back to their original state.

“Really Evans… you’re asking the Black if he’s mad.” Sirius grinned wickedly.

“I mean I knew you were mad. But this mad? You’re unregistered I take it? You do realise that could mean Azkaban?”

“That’s your issue? Azkaban?” Peter laughed.

“Well if the wolf can’t turn you Azkaban is the major concern isn’t it?” Lily argued.

“Only if we get caught. Or someone sells us out.” James said, looking pointedly at Lily. “It was getting harder to explain our absences.”

“Because you two live in each others pockets these days.” Sirius teased.

“I promise, I won’t say a word.”

[silverryu25]

Fairytales day 4 + ghost

Noonie I love you for sending in this ask but why did you have to hurt me with such a dark combo!! QAQ Hope you like it ;w;

DAY 4 - Fairy tales: Bluebeard + Ghost

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Red closed his sockets and took a deep breath as he stood at the top of the stairs leading down down down, into a darkness so deep it almost seemed to be reaching out towards him. Trying to drag him down into eternal nothingness.

Despite all that, he had to go down there.

He had to know.

Red had been in this castle for a few weeks now, freshly married and left alone with nothing to do. His new husband left him to care for the castle while he tended to some important business he didn't care to explain to his newest bride. And that's exactly what Red was, the newest in a long line of brides his current husband married over the last few years. Brides that had disappeared in mysterious circumstances.

Yet Red couldn't connect his seemingly gentle and jovial husband with the horrific rumors circling around the local villages and towns. Gossip of beautiful brides being killed and buried, thrown in lakes or eaten. Or worse, forced to haunt the castle eternally.

His marriage was done out of a need to protect his only family, his brother. To give him a life he deserves. But it now the nagging curiosity was driving him insane, each night spent in the seemingly empty (the servants went home to the nearby village each night) and haunted castle making it harder and harder to keep away.

Away from the only place he was forbidden entry.

The basement.

Red gripped the key in his hand firmer as he scowled down into the darkness.

He wouldn't let a little dark intimidate him. He'd seen worse. Lived through worse. Used darkness as cover before. And even though this darkness didn't feel like it was going to protect him from the horrors that were chasing him, he wouldn't let it stop him.

He went down.

And down.

And down.

The darkness swallowing him whole, making it impossible to see the steps until, suddenly, a torch lit up the space in front of him.

And a door.

The door was heavy, made from thick wood and reinforced with steel and iron. It would be impossible to open it without a key. The key he held in his trembling hand.

He gripped it even tighter as he raised it to the door. Despite it looking ancient and worn, the key slid into the keyhole without any resistance. Almost like it was regularly used, lovingly well kept to make sure it wouldn't make noise when opened.

Red turned the key, the silence of the lock and the lack of any creak as he pulled the door open making his magic stand on end. If he had skin it would have been crawling with goosebumps.

The room that opened before him was dark, no torches lighting his way to make out what was in there. He grabbed the torch that stood next to the door, took a deep breath and stepped in.

It was... red.

There were shelves and tables, chairs and stools. And all were covered in red. Jars and jars full of red red red!

Red stood frozen, completely lost on what he was looking at. Sockets empty of any light as his gaze roamed the rows and rows of the space in front of him.

Was that... bloo-

Before he could finish that thought, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and Red flinched, hard. But the movement didn't help him dislodge the vice grip from his shoulder, it only made it tighten up.

Red couldn't make himself look up. His body trembled as the hand kept him in place, mind completely blank as he panicked over being caught in the act. Breaking the only rule the castle's owner imposed on him. Sealing his fate.

"i didn't wanna have you see this," his husband said, a heavy sigh escaping him, making Red tremble a little harder. "why did you do it?"

The voice almost sounded regretful, but Red couldn't really focus on it, all he could do was try and make his brain work on a solution. An escape plan. Something. Anything. The slightest hope that he could run and see his brother again.

But fate was cruel, and it seems his husband was even more so.

The hand on his shoulder pushed him forward, leading him towards one of the nearby shelves. Red could only dread what will happen next. Would his husband take one of the jars and stuff Red in there as he dusted him? Would he paint his dust red to match the hue of his other victims. Would he do it quickly so Red didn't feel any pain?

Amongst the horrifying possibilities, the tiniest thought of regret flashed through his skull. If only he hadn't let his stupid curiosity take over, he might have even come to like his kind and jovial husband eventually.

Red flinched as a second hand reached over his other shoulder, boxing him between the two and making escape impossible. But instead of grabbing an empty jar as he expected, the hand grabbed one of the jars full of the red substance.

'wha-' he didn't have time to finish that question as the jar was forcefully put into his hands.

"open it." It was an order he couldn't deny.

Hands shaking, his bones softly clacking on the glass and metal of the jar, he slowly, desperately trying to postpone his imminent demise, twisted the lid open.

One soulbeat. He stood frozen. Another soulbeat. The hand on his shoulder tightened. Another soulbeat. He opened the jar.

His senses were flooded by the rotting smell of....... tomatoes???

Sockets snapping open (when did he close them?) he looked down at the contents of the jar. He couldn't believe his eyelights. His skull completely empty as he tried to piece together what the hell was going on. In the jar, it wasn't blood or body parts.

It was ketchup...

He could see tomato seeds swimming in the sweet and sour smelling concoction, but his mind refused to believe what his senses were telling him. Then, just as suddenly as he's done everything, his husband grabbed another jar of ketchup from the shelf, broke it open and chugged it, the sound of his big gulps impossible to mistake for anything else. Red's sockets grew even wider, he almost thought they would pop from the strain until, mercifully, the other spoke.

"i didn't want you to see this." This time, the sigh that followed those words sounded almost... self-conscious. "It is a vice no one would understand a noble like me to partake. Fine wines or liquor is respectable, but this? What will the people think of a master that indulges in a nonsensical vice as this."

The hand holding him in place finally relaxed. Red stared at the jar a few moments longer until his damned curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to risk it one more time. Slowly, gingerly, he turned around.

His husband, his noble husband, Sans Bluebeard Skeleton, was blushing.

A soft blue glow spread on his bony cheeks, as he looked away, his expression looking... defeated?

"i suppose you will want to leave as well." Red could only stare, uncomprehending, at what he was hearing. "of course you do, they all do. i will pay you to keep quiet about this, and help you find a place to live far from my lands. all i ask is that you do not tell about this to anyone."

With that, Sans turned to leave. But before he could take a few more steps forward, a small hand snapped forward and grabbed one of his sleeves. Stunned, Sans quickly turned around and looked at his (soon to be former) wife. But instead of the usual scorn or disgust he was used to he was met with two red hear-shaped eyelights.

A few soulbeats of silence passed as they both held their breath, equally surprised by Red's action.

"do you know about mustard? it's better than ketchup!" Red blurted out before Sans had a chance to inquire about his actions, and a flash of surprised fondness made his tired soul skip.

Maybe this one would last~

-----------

>:D Did you think I wouldn't be able to twist this into something silly? HA! Silly is my winning game noonie! >:3

I tried to keep this short! I really did! But it got away from me a bit, it's more a short fic than a drabble >.>

But I really wanted to try and make the setting seem super dark and end it on a silly note! And heck if Sans having a dumb ketchup addiction and somehow snagging a mustard addicted wife isn't silly, nothing is! XD They are both gonna have a wonderful condiment filled life together UwU

Not sure how clear it was, but Sans wasn't killing his wives, they found out about his secret addiction to ketchup (it was a test they all failed) and were so scandalized they wanted to leave so Sans made sure they had enough money to go to a different noble's land, far enough away that his secret wouldn't get leaked :3