#maybe to have a dance party in the abandoned haunted house

[zarameraki]

˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 bj 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 4.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: ok look, i was ovulating and i had to write this for some reason. i even wrote a nanami one (but he's your step-uncle). my mind was in the gutter and i wanted to challenge myself to something super taboo. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

Here you were, standing on a worn-out welcome mat, staring at the door of your ex-stepfather’s house.

It’s surreal.

A month ago, when your mom dropped the bomb about their divorce, you felt like your world was crumbling. Part of you felt relieved, like you could finally breathe without suffocating under their constant tension. And the other part? Well, it felt like a piece of you was being ripped away.

Last week, when the papers were finalized, making it official that they were done, you locked yourself in your room. The silence was deafening, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling of missing him. Missing Toji. It’s ridiculous, right? He’s not your step dad anymore. He’s just some guy now. Too old, too wrong, too different.

You should just turn around and leave, forget about all this.

But you couldn’t.

Not today.

Not when you’re clutching your hard-earned bachelor’s degree, wearing a stupid graduation gown that felt like a costume. He didn’t bother showing up for your biggest achievement, just like your mother. She was always occupied with her own life to care about you. You were just an accident, a spill on her pile of kitchen table bills. 

Toji, though, he was different. He actually paid attention, listened to you, cared about what you had to say. Maybe you’re being stupid for wanting to talk to him, to pour out everything that’s been eating you up for months. But you needed to do this, for yourself, even if it meant facing the reality that he’s not part of your life anymore.

So, you’d driven straight to his residence building, skipping the after parties with your friends. You were twenty-two for fuck’s sake. If you wanted to spend the night celebrating with your step-dad, then that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

Enough was enough. 

Your trembling finger hovered over the doorbell, each second feeling like an eternity. The sharp pricks of anxiety danced on your palms, and the weight on your shoulders threatened to crush you. But you couldn’t turn back now.

The ache in your chest demanded resolution, an answer to the haunting question that had plagued you since your mother first brought him into your life: Do I want to fuck my step-dad? 

Yes. Yes, you very much did. 

The clicks of the lock rattled and the door knob twisted clockwise. 

Toji stood in the doorway, his presence dominating the space as if he had devoured the entire door frame. His twelve abdomen muscles rippled, stark against his skin. Jet-black hair clung wetly to his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. With sweatpants slung low on his hips, a tantalizing trail of hair led downward, drawing attention to the area you often found yourself fantasizing about.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, realization dawning. “It was today, wasn’t it?”

“You’re such an ass,” you spat out, your body trembling with a mix of emotions—his forgetfulness, his proximity to you, the sheer presence of him. But at this moment, all your focus was on the pain of him abandoning you after promising he’d be there. “I was completely alone, Toji. Do you even understand how embarrassing it was to stand there by myself while everyone else had their families?”

“Sweetheart—”

“No. No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t—You made me a promise, Toji. You swore you’d be there for me.”

“I know,” he murmured, running his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, kid. Come here.” He grasped your wrist and drew you towards him, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His strong arms wrapped around your body, reminiscent of the times he used to challenge you by having you sit on his back during push-ups to prove you wrong about being too heavy for him. “Better?”

“No,” you grumbled, resting your cheek against his chest. He had the scent of spruce and cigarettes that you found strangely comforting. What you wouldn’t do to sleep on his chest for hours, days and weeks. “Toji, I . . . I want to talk to you about something.” 

“What is it?” he asked, stepping back. 

“Can we sit down first?” 

He grinned. “Of course, baby.” 

With a shy smile of your own, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he led you towards the plush couch at the center of the room. Memories of previous visits with your mother flashed briefly in your mind, but they were quickly replaced by the present moment.

The apartment’s decor was simple yet masculine, with red-brick walls lending a rustic charm. A mounted television, a large couch, and a hanging boxing bag added character to the space. The kitchen, though small, was designed in an L-shape, showcasing Toji’s dedication to fitness with his assortment of protein powders and supplements neatly arranged.

As you both settled onto the couch, Toji relaxed back, spreading out his legs and placing his arms on the backrest. His gaze lingered on you as you gracefully removed your graduation gown and placed your degree on his coffee table. 

“Your mother allowed you to wear that?” His thumb traced the curve of his lower lip as his gaze roamed shamelessly over you.

The gown you had on was a sleek, satin creation with a daring thigh-high slit. Its fabric was delicate, featuring thin straps and a plunging cleavage that barely contained your breasts. It was no secret that you had chosen it with Toji in mind, especially since your mother had been “too busy” to accompany you on your shopping trip.

“She doesn’t control my wardrobe,” you replied, your voice laced with confidence as you settled beside him. One leg tucked beneath you, the other languidly extended, the slit in your dress showcasing the smoothness of your skin. Toji’s gaze followed the line of exposed flesh before meeting your eyes. “Besides, you shouldn’t be the one to talk.” 

His smirk widened when you pointed out his lack of a shirt. “My house, my rules.”

You changed the subject. “Care to explain why you missed my graduation?”

“Work,” he replied shortly.

“Is that so?”

“I got a last-minute call for a match. The prize money was going to cover the next three months’ rent.” Toji was a professional MMA fighter. You had once attended one of his matches for ten minutes before almost passing out from witnessing how brutally he defeated his opponent. His persona in the ring was a juxtaposition to the sarcastic yet caring man he was at home with you.

“Did you win?” you asked, absently twirling the bracelet he had given you for your twenty-first birthday.

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “I won.”

“Good.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, only to find his eyes fixed on you. “Do you miss home?”

“I am home.”

“You know what I mean.”

He took a deep breath, gazing at the blank television screen. Tilting his head back towards you, he wore a lopsided grin. “I miss you. Does that count?”

Your insides turned to jelly at his words, but you refused to let yourself falter, refusing to become the shy, sweet girl you once were, despite the depraved and forbidden reel playing in your mind. 

You missed watching television with your head on his lap. You missed cooking together. You missed doing the dishes afterward. You missed joining him on walks and runs just to spend a little extra time together. You missed dragging him to malls with you and trying on clothes, posing as sexily as you could, but obviously, he didn’t understand the signals. He never did. Even if you’d spend more time with him than your own mother. 

Silence ensued around you, only the subtle sounds of your choppy breaths and his composed ones were heard. 

“Why are you here, kid?” Toji’s gruff voice cut through the air.

“To see you.” 

“Why are you here?” 

You held your breath tightly in your chest. “I wanted to talk.” 

“About?” He was quick with the question, as if he knew what you were about to say, but wanted to hear it from your lips. Lips that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from. “Talk to me.” 

“I—” You felt a knot form in your throat. “I wanted to check up—”

“Bullshit.” 

Yeah, bullshit. 

What were you scared of? This was the man who cut up fruits for you when you were mentally deprived from crunching for your exams. This was the man who put a blanket on you if you fell asleep reading, even giving a kiss to your crown. This was the man who treated you like you were his own daughter, when in reality, you never were. And he never outwardly called you his daughter, either. You didn’t know why you never saw him as a father figure, but rather, you called him a friend. A really good friend. A friend you’d fallen stupidly in love with over the course of six months. 

Toji snapped his fingers in front of your face. You blinked out of the whirlpool of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?” 

“To you.” 

He lifted a brow. “To me?” 

Now or never, Y/N. Now or fucking never. 

You knelt down and moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. His eyes widened momentarily at your boldness. “Toji, I like you. Hell, I love you. I love every version of the man you’ve been in my life. I know—I know you love me, too. Probably not in the way I want you to, but a girl can hope.” Your words were directed at the dog tag hanging from his neck as you gently placed your hands on his chest. “I did come here to scold you for not attending my graduation, but I also wanted to . . . I wanted to be with you. In more ways than one.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talk—”

“I do,” you stated firmly. Your lashes lifted and found his narrowed scrutiny. Unconsciously, his hands rested on your waist, molding to your curves. “I’ve known for a while now. It didn’t click in until you moved out. I swear Toji, it was like I couldn’t breathe without you.” 

“Baby . . . ” 

“I want you,” you confessed in a hushed tone, your fingers tracing the lines of his broad shoulders, then up to the sturdy column of his neck where his pulsing veins hinted at his emotions. “I know I seem desperate, but I don’t care. You’re not hers anymore. You were never hers.” 

“Y/N—”

“Please, Toji. Please, just touch me.” You tilted your head to plant a tender kiss on the sharp angle of his jawline. His faint stubble grazed against your lips as you continued to pepper kisses, stopping just short of his mouth. “Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, they say.”

Toji tightly shut his eyes and took slow breaths through his nose, his inner turmoil evident in the way his head moved back and forth. Your lips traced gentle paths around his face, savoring the closeness and the rush of emotions it brought. Even if he rejected you, you would find solace in knowing you had expressed your love for the man who was once your stepfather. This night might mark the end of your time together, but it also freed you from the burden of hiding your feelings.. 

“Baby,” Toji whispered, gently caressing your cheek as he drew you closer. “You sure you want this?” 

“Yes.” 

“You know how risky this is, kid. We can’t just ignore the consequences.” 

“I know, Toji.” You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his. “But I can’t ignore how I feel about you either. I want this. I want you. I want all of you. You can do whatever you want to me. I promise I can take it.” 

Toji licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Okay. Your mom—”

“She won’t know. I’m planning on moving out soon.” You dragged your hand up and down his soft, bare chest. “I should’ve moved out with you.” 

Toji took your hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm. “I don’t think I have any condoms on me.” 

“I’m on the pill.” 

His eyes narrowed on you. “You’ve been fucking around? Does your mom know?” 

“Hey, I had to have a little fun. Gain a little experience for this inevitable night.” Your infectious smile rubbed off on him and he enveloped you in his arms. 

“I fuck hard.” 

“Good.” 

“Last chance.” 

“Nope.” 

Toji rose on his feet, supporting your bottom with his hands as he took you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, the soft mattress absorbing the weight with a slight bounce. “Fucking knew you had a little crush on me.” He clambered onto your body and held your jaw with his hand. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you touch yourself thinking of me?” 

“Every single night. Whether it’s in the shower or my bedroom,” you replied, feigning a pout and raising your hand. “I’m starting to think I’ve developed carpal tunnel from all of it.”

Toji laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face with his calloused fingers. But as his laughter faded into a knowing smirk, his next words sent a jolt through you, leaving your legs weak and your heart racing. “Yeah. Me, too.” 

“Really?” 

He answered by colliding his lips against yours. It was a brutal kiss. Pain and pleasure mingled together in a heated embrace. His tongue shoved deep into your mouth, exploring the source of your daring words. 

Pulling away momentarily, he squeezed your cheeks and sucked on your tongue like it was a delicious treat. “Gonna spit in your mouth.” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

Toji’s cheeks sucked in as he gathered his spit and spat it right onto your tongue. “Swallow.” 

You did, moaning as his warm saliva traveled down your throat. “You taste minty.”

“I was just about to crash before your demanding ass showed up,” he teased.

“Well, you should thank me then.” You planted a quick kiss on his nose.

Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, tugging on your bottom lip and trailing his moist lips down to your neck. “You smell so good, baby.” 

“I’m wearing the perfume you bought me.” 

“You better fucking be. Do you know how much I get off on spoiling you?” His teeth bit your delicate flesh and pulled, making you whimper from the stinging pain. He sucked and bit on different areas of your neck, marking you with his love bites. He then helped you out of the dress and pressed you back on the mattress. “Knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” 

“No,” you said sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” he said, missing the teasing in your voice, “your nipples were in my face when we were talking.” He rounded his tongue around your areola. Gathering your breasts in both hands, Toji switched between suckling at your nipples, biting the sensitive bud that sent jerks in your body, and licking the burning pain. “I saw you undressing once. You know that?” 

You lifted a brow. “Uh, when?” And why didn't he do anything about it?

“You left your bedroom a bit open. I came to call you for dinner and instead feasted on the sight of your perky ass and these sexy tits.” He left your nipples numb and discolored from his teeth’s abuse. “You think you’re the only one who got off in that house? No, baby. Not at all. I was in the room right next to you, jerking off to your voice, or your smell.” This time, he kissed you gently and then each of your shoulders. “I had it worse. I had it so much worse.” 

“Toji . . . ”

“But you’re here now, and so am I. I’m not fucking leaving. You got that? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” 

“Yours,” you whispered. “God, Toji, I’m yours. I’m yours.” 

Toji removed his sweatpants and boxers, giving you a glorious display of his long, thick cock, corded with veins, sprouted up and proud. You had him like that, and so you gave yourself a mental pat on the back. “Like what you see?” 

“Yes,” you said, chuckling in disbelief at the anatomy of him. A surge of confidence washed over you. You slipped off your panties and spread out your legs, shaking your hair back from your face. “Like what you see?” 

Toji gleamed at the wetness pooled between your legs, soaking his sheets underneath, sticky and hot. Something feral rattled inside him. He gripped your knees and pried them farther apart, sinking in between. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck! Toji—ah!” Your back arched in ecstasy, fingers gripping his scalp as he ruthlessly ate you out. His large palm held your hips in place, nibbling and sucking at your quivering, swollen clit. “Toji, yes, yes, fuck. Right there. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

You grinded against him with full power, pushing your pussy closer to his mouth. He drank your leaking juices, drove his skilled tongue into your tight entrance, and discovered the sweet, cry-worthy spots inside you.

Soon, he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging them deep inside you with a rough and unrelenting pace that sent shivers down your spine. His deep growls were the icing on top. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the bed creaked beneath you. He was exorcising your damn soul out of your body with his holy tongue and his blessed fingers.

“Ah!” You came down like a fucking waterfall and Toji stood with an open mouth, drinking in your essence, lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, cleaning you as best as he could. 

You gasped for air, clutching your chest as you coughed or laughed or wheezed—hard to tell which. You felt weightless, incredibly sore, teetering on the edge of passing out.

“Toji . . . am I dead?”

His laughter echoed nearby, then drew nearer until his face came into focus through your haze. “Your pussy tastes just as delicious as your mouth, baby.” 

He kissed you and gave you a hint of your release. Toji was a moaner—a loud one—as he sucked on your tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he spit onto your tongue again, and ran his own coarse one over your palette.

You closed your mouth and pushed him back by his shoulders. “Let me touch you.” 

“Yeah? You want to suck me off, too?” 

“Yes, fuck. Please, Toji. Please let me suck your cock.” Your begging made him grunt as he got up on his knees. He moved closer, placing them firmly beside your hips. You sat up against the headboard, gripping his warm, aroused cock, while he entwined your hair around his hand, gaining control over your movements.

You looked up at his smirk and kissed his moist tip, savoring the salty taste. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the idea of taking him deeper into your mouth. It would definitely challenge your gag reflex, but if this was going to be a regular thing, you needed to practice.

“Part your lips for me, kid. Nice and wide. That’s it.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You winked at Toji’s alarmed expression. Oh, how you loved catching him off-guard by acting out of character. “You got a daddy kink, Toji?” You brushed your lips from the base to the head, swirling your tongue around the rim. “Since you love calling me kid, maybe I should start calling you daddy. Isn’t that what you were?” 

“You got a dirty mouth on you, kid.” 

“Learned it from my daddy.”  

Toji hissed through his teeth as you nibbled his tip. “Not dirty enough.” He gripped his length and forced it past your lips. Your nails plunged into his hips, gagging and shaking as he sunk past your uvula. “About time I fucked your smartass mouth with my cock, baby. Be a good girl and don’t tap out until I’ve come down your throat.” 

You closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve before meeting his gaze again with a playful glint. You weren’t entirely sure where this was going, but you were determined not to back down now. So, with a mischievous wink, you silently accepted the challenge.

Toji thrusted his hips back and forth, shoving his girth in and out without giving you space to breathe.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck, you’re so good at sucking your daddy’s cock,” he groaned, his hands gently gripping your hair or caressing your cheek in a way that contrasted sharply with his dominant actions.

“My pretty whore.”

Thrust.

“My gorgeous girl.” 

Thrust.

“You belong to me, baby.” 

Thrust, thrust, thrust. 

He was a complete monster with you. 

Your face pressed against his pelvis, the brush of his happy trail tickling your nose. You knew from experience that most men came quicker if you fondled their balls. You squeezed his heavy, swollen sacs, making him hiss and violate your throat.

Toji couldn’t hold back. His release came with a roar, numbing your scalp from how tightly he was pulling on it. The thin ropes of his release and your saliva formed as he pulled out. You swallowed whatever was left around your mouth. To please him further, as if assaulting your throat wasn’t enough, you lapped at his tip like a devoted kitten. “You’re so good to me, baby.” 

That’s all you wanted to hear. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, and without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. “What a sight.” His hand glided over your left ass cheek tenderly before delivering a firm smack that made you jolt forward. Toji mirrored the action on your right cheek, preparing you while coating the tip of his cock with slickness from your own arousal. “Gonna put it in now, sweetheart.” 

“Finally, Jesus.” 

Toji spanked your ass which only elicited a giggle out of you. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing soon, baby.” 

He pushed into you in one-quick go. 

You cried out and grabbed the top of the headboard with your sweaty palms. He pulled out just to the hilt then drove back in. The air smelled like your sweat and perfume and sex. Every nerve in your body was alive, your heart pounding fiercely as if trying to escape your chest. Your face flushed with heat, your blood singing with desire.

You moaned and cried and screamed his name, driving him to complete madness with the word “Daddy.” You begged him to go faster, push harder, to have you sore for weeks so you didn’t have to get out of his bed, out of his arms, out of his home. You wanted this to be your home. 

Toji spanked your ass repeatedly, skin slapping against skin, palming the back of your head so that your face was crushed on his pillow. It smelled like firewood. Smelled like him. You wanted to steal it, take it home, sleep with it, ride it while whispering his name. 

You both came together. 

Toji’s hot seed filled your stretched hole. He withdrew slowly, a teasing sensation that left you craving more. With deft fingers, he ensured not a drop was wasted. 

You collapsed onto your stomach, catching your breath before summoning the strength to turn and face him.

He exhaled heavily, laying beside you “Fuck, that was . . .” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Best yeah.” You draped yourself onto his chest and kissed his chin. He massaged his fingers through your throbbing scalp, the other hand caressing your numb, bruised ass. 

Toji twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Does this make-up for missing your graduation?” 

You flicked his forehead. “I haven’t forgiven you for that.” 

“Maybe I should miss more of your events if this is the reward I’m gonna get.” 

You scowled. “I dare you to repeat that again.” 

Toji ironed out your scowl with his thumb. You kissed the pad of his rough finger, twice. “My cards are on the table for you, sweetheart.” 

Your lips met his, whispering, “I folded a while ago, Daddy.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed out. With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Round two, kid.” 

[lockwoodandcoff]

Lockwood and Co Flash Fiction Challenge 1 Wrap Up

Yall put together some awesome fics! Here they all are!

where the air is deathly still As darkness began to fall and the veil between the living and the dead grew thin, three figures made their way down the road, not stopping until they reached the manor. It had been ages since the manor had received any additional callers, and the grounds seemed to hold a breath it didn’t have. 

Slow Dancing in the Dark When Lockwood & Co. gets hired by a client to stand guard at an overnight party, it might just be the worst night of Lucy's life. Or maybe it's not. Because of Lockwood and a bit of slow dancing.

i think your house is haunted (you should come live with me) An abandoned house sits on the outskirts of Lucy's town. Local legend says it's haunted, but no one really believes it. No one except for Lucy, who has seen the ghost that lives there.

To Be Haunted Lockwood and Co. teams up with Fittes to try their hand at a lock-in so many rich Londoners are always doing. As could be guessed, it doesn't go as planned.

half-hour drive George stands at the threshold of the property, kit-bag slung over his shoulder. He is silhouetted by the green-glow of the streetlight behind him, and even in the darkness Lucy can make out the tug of a tired smile pulling at his mouth when he spots her. (With their latest case concluded, George and Lucy go home.)

i could hammer in that nail The night was foggy, icy, and biting. Lockwood and Co stood in the yard of a grand mansion, burying a fresh corpse. Inside, a raging party drowned even the rowdiest of teens in its rambunctious grasp. Everything was according to plan. or: lockwood and co have a side gig as contract killers. lucy ruminates on how they got here.

Mysterious Love Lucy and Lockwood make out after a job. That's mostly it, really.

The Aldham case It was a normal looking House in Aldham and the scene playing out in front of Lucy and George was normal as well, except that it wasn't. A tale in which a second case presents itself.

ghost!lockwood snippet

untitled poem

Deep Breath

[writtenonreceipts]

Happy October!! 🎃 Very excited for spooktober, how about some Elorcan sass:

“We only have to make it until sunrise, which is… 7 hours away.”

Happy October nonny! thanks for sending this in!

My sick-adled brain wanted to keep drawing this out into further nonsense but nyquil finally had her say and we're backing away real carefully in the hopes that this is somewhat good...

warnings: none? ~4k words

...

Hauntings and Happenstance

Leaves skittered across the ground as the wind picked its way through the trees.  Huge cedar trees towered overhead and blocked out the inky black sky.  The past few days of rain and fog dominated the weather patterns, and that night was no different.  The clouds barely broke enough to offer a window to the deep crescent of the moon.  Pale silver light attempted to illuminate the forest, but the heavy bulk of the clouds ate whatever light they could.

The subtle scrape of the leaves and cool glow of light were soothing to Elide.  She’d always loved autumn with its changing colors and weather.  Especially when she had an active excuse to continue drinking hot apple cider or hot chocolate all day every day.  Now, however, her hands were empty except for her flashlight.  The stiff chill dug into her fingers making Elide plow one hand into her pocket and the other gripped the light.  It really was a cool night, with the covered sky and promise of more rain.  

Elide walked through the old Terrasen cemetery, she had a giant backpack on one shoulder and an even bigger duffel bag on the other.  A girl needed her snacks and blankets if she were going to stay in a haunted house this close to Halloween.

She’d long had a fascination with the cemetery and had quite honestly jumped at the opportunity to explore it further.  It had been abandoned back in 1856 on account of accidental double burials.  Which had then amounted to a resurgence of omen watching for any and every bad deed.  It also didn’t help that Terrasen had been known for a serial killer too—who supposedly was the caretaker of the cemetery back in ‘56.

Terrasen had far too many skeletons in its closet.

The flashlight she held did a poor job at lighting the narrow trail that curved along the back of the cemetery.  Late autumn fog began to condense before her and shape into the shrubbery that was trying to take over any space it could find.  Elide sipped her cider, which was growing cold.  Maybe she should have brought another blanket.  But her backpack had already been growing full and she thought snacks might be more important than—

The snap of a twig behind her had Elide spinning around.  The beam of her flashlight intercepted a hulking shape coming towards her.  A shape she instantly recognized.

“You asshat!” Elide yelled. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

In two long strides Lorcan Salvaterre leveled up with her, a smirk dancing on his mouth.  He easily took her duffel bag from her despite her glares.

“Isn’t that the idea of this plan?” he asked. “Which by the way has to be the stupidest thing you’ve done.”

She scowled at him and turned around, doing her best to walk quickly.  Lorcan of course kept stride.

“If you think it’s so stupid, why are you here?” she retorted. “Doesn’t Maeve have that party tonight?”

“You think I’d let you do this alone?” Lorcan brushed an errant branch out of his face.  He was so tall that even the recently beaten back shrubs still got in his way.  

She cut him a sharp smile. “Didn’t know you cared so much, Salvaterre.”

The night was quiet around them, save for a few skittering animals in the fallen leaves and other debris on the forest floor.  The silence, of course, made it easier for her mind to wander.  Because first and foremost, Lorcan was here.  She hadn’t even realized he’d known what she was doing tonight.

Her crush was stupid, she knew.  Lorcan was older with a brooding sort of attitude.  He was the type of guy who didn’t care what others thought of him and made certain they knew it too.  

Somehow over the last year and a half, Elide and Lorcan had formed a little friendship separate from everyone else.  He’d been held back in high school for skipping so often that Elide had managed to, somehow, get to know him better than anyone else. 

“I’m not going to let you get yourself killed, Elide,” Lorcan said.

Another twig snapped beneath their feet.  Though, it was nearly drowned out by the low growl of thunder overhead.  Hell.  Hopefully that was just a little threat and not a promise of something to come.

“You do realize the house isn’t actually haunted, right?” she asked. “I’m just doing this for extra credit in my cultural anthropology course.”

According to local legend, the old caretaker house had fallen to shambles after a series of mysterious murders swept through the down.  Murders that had been committed by the caretaker himself.  Now, the old house and cemetery were left alone, to disappear into both memory and the once vibrant forest.  For her class, Elide was going to write a paper on how the legend had been mixed and convoluted through the years.

“I know it’s not haunted,” Lorcan scoffed, “but there’s probably some dumbass who thinks it’s funny to play pranks on people like you—”

“Like me?”

“Who walk into situations they don’t belong in.”  Lorcan cast her a dark look at that, only emphasized from the shadows of the night.

Elide let out a laugh and bumped his shoulder.  Her heart thumped just a little faster, which she ignored.

“Are you worried about me now?” she teased. “It’s just a haunted house, Lorcan.”

“You’re impossible,” was all Lorcan said.

“I am impossibly delightful,” she corrected, waving her flashlight in his face.

And then to punctuate her words—it started to rain.  Big, fat drops fells from the sky and startled her out of whatever bit of teasing he’d been about to embark on.  Blinking rapidly, Elide looked up to the sky.  The canopy of trees blocked most of the heavy onslaught of rain, but it would only be a matter of time before they got soaked.

“Son of a—” Lorcan muttered.  He glanced at her, trails of rain already slipping down his face. “Seriously, Lochan?”

Elide grinned. “Scared of a little rain, Salvaterre?”

She adjusted the strap of her backpack and picked up her pace.

In a matter of minutes, they came to a small cobbled path that led through overgrown blackberry bushes and ferns.  The house was slumped to one side, the roof curved with some unknown weight.  Though, Elide imagined that in the light of day she would see heavy strings of moss hanging from the eaves of the house and the molded cross-beams sagging in age.

The porch, missing several sections of wood, wound around the perimeter of the house.  Ivy curled around the railing until it nearly consumed any bit of wood left over.  The rain only added to the ambiance of an abandoned home.

Elide picked her way to the front door, careful of any rotted-out pieces in the flooring.  The front door had been replaced on more than one occasion, as was evidenced by the shiny new padlock and set of chains strapped to the framework.

Shrugging, Elide held her flashlight out to Lorcan who approached from behind.  Despite his large form, he barely disturbed the porch.

“Hold this,” she said.

Lorcan took the light. “You got the key to this place?”

“Uh,” she said, digging around in her backpack.  Elide pulled out the lock and pick Manon had given her for her birthday last year. “Not exactly.”

“Dammit, Lochan,” Lorcan said, “did you get permission to come out here?”

“Where would the fun in that be?”  

Lorcan continued to mutter oaths under his breath, though he kept the flashlight trained on the padlock.  Elide worked in that steady stream of light, sticking the pick and hook in the lock and finding the tumblers.  The police department really needed to up their game if they wanted to keep trespassers out of the old home.  In a matter of minutes, the lock popped open and the chains fell to the floor.

The door creaked open and a puff of stale air saturated with moss and age greeted them.  Elide grinned triumphant.  And Aelin had said she wouldn’t even make it in the front door.

 Ha!

Elide grabbed the flashlight from Lorcan and stepped into the house.  Immediately, the rain ceased and it felt a fraction drier.

Cobwebs draped from the ceiling in thick billows.  Dust hung in the light lazily, only disturbed when Elide walked past.  She swung the light around to every corner noting everything.  The small chandelier overhead hardly seemed like enough to light the house.  Sconces were set up along the walls, though they were long empty of any candlewick.  One doorway led off into a tiny kitchen that held only a wood stove.  The other room was full of old furniture and smelled like mice had taken over.

Elide spun in a slow circle around the living space.  Outside there was the subtle thrum of rain pattering on the roof.  It wasn’t as big a storm as they usually saw this time of year.  As she moved around the cabin, her steps creaked beneath her and an owl gave a hoot from its perch in the trees.

“Is that it?” Lorcan asked.  He hovered near the door. “Can we go now?”

“Are you scared?” Elide raised a brow. “The great Lorcan Salvaterre taken down by a haunted house?”

He rolled his eyes at her, unamused.

In the last two years of knowing him—Elide had become very aware of who Lorcan was.  She’d gotten to know him in detention, because even if he had been held back to repeat senior year, he still preferred getting into trouble.  And then during football games, parties, and random sneak outs—he’d always been there. Somehow, they’d become friends.  And somehow, she’d let her little crush take root in her chest.

All of this was very unhelpful, because they were friends.  At least, she considered him one.  He’d been the only one to express real interest in this plan of hers to explore the old caretaker's house.  They were friends and he didn’t see anything beyond that.

Elide cleared her throat and kept talking.

“Legend says, I have to stay the night if I’m going to have any chance of meeting a spirit,” Elide said.  She gestured to the duffel bag he’d taken from her. “Hence the blankets and snacks.”

Sighing, Lorcan finally entered the house and wedged the door shut behind him.  Without the padlock and chains to keep it in place, the door slanted open near the top.  Lorcan frowned up at it.

Elide blinked at him.  “Whatcha doing?”

“I’m not leaving you in the middle of nowhere alone, Lochan,” he said. “I already said that.  Now, please tell me you have something other than a Ouija board to keep us occupied tonight.”

“You’re impossible,” she said.  She dropped down and pulled her down sleeping bag from the backpack along with a few sealed Tupperware of veggies.  The duffel had the chocolate.

Lorcan scoffed. “I’m not the one who decided to have a slumber party on death row.”

He cast another dark look around the room, stooping to avoid running into a bean that ran across the cabin.  He came to sit beside her in the middle of the floor and offered the duffel up for her.

“Its research thank-you very much,” she replied. “Go ahead and unload that, it’s just got more blankets and water.  Don’t touch my chocolate stash.”

Lorcan did as he was told, pulling out two blankets and the giant two-gallon jug of water.  He stared between her and the contents.

“How did you carry all this up here?”

“What just because I’m a woman?”

“You’re five-foot nothing with even less meat on your bones than a rabbit.”

Elide stared at him. “I’m going to choose not to take offense to that as long as you hand over the chocolate now.”

“I’m just saying,” Lorcan began, holding the grocery sack of candy out, “I wouldn’t have expected you to handle all that.”

“Yeah right,” Elide muttered.  She was grateful for the shadows cast by the flashlight and that hopefully the flush rising in her cheeks was unnoticeable.  She tore into one of the chocolate bars and tossed him the veggies. “There, you can be the healthy one.”

And if she wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn there was a flash of a smile on his lips.

They sat in silence for a few minutes with only the flashlight to illuminate the room.  The poor light was hardly helpful however and against her will, Elide found herself glancing off to the far corners of the cabin.  She knew it was silly.  The house wasn’t drafty and it seemed well enough intact that there shouldn’t be anything sneaking in.  Hopefully.

“What kind of extra credit assignment calls for all this?” Lorcan asked.  He nibbled on a carrot slice un-enthusiastically as he looked around the cabin.

“Anthro exists on a whole other plain,” Elide said. “The professor doesn’t really care what we do as long as we don’t give him any grief.  And no one else seemed interested in this, so I figured why not.”

“Why not indeed,” Lorcan mused. “You just choose chaos at any chance you get.”

Elide threw her half-eaten candy bar at him, which Lorcan caught with ease.  Damn him.  He only grinned and took a bite of the chocolate before leaning back on an elbow to stare up at the darkened ceiling.

“Y’know,” he began, but a soft snuffling cut him off followed by a series of creaks and groans from the porch outside.

Elide sat up straighter and went for her phone.  She’d planned on getting a few recordings or pictures to show for her efforts.  And she knew, of course, that it was probably an animal out there but--

“Let’s go see,” she said.  

“What?” Lorcan snatched out a hand and snagged her wrist. “We are not going to do that.”

“Oh come on,” Elide insisted.  She tried shaking him off, but his grip was tight. “It’s probably a mouse or something.”

The snuffling got louder and the aged wood outside squeaked with the distinct hint of splinters.  Perhaps it was not a mouse.  By now the rain had lightened up a bit, so it wouldn’t be surprising if there were other animals coming out of their hovels.  But she wanted to make this little adventure worthwhile and just catching images of Lorcan—no matter how satisfying—wouldn’t really help her in her search for extra credit.

“Or it could be something not so friendly,” Lorcan said.  He didn’t loosen his hold on her, but his voice was softer than it usually ever was.

Elide scowled. “I could be missing my chance to catch footage of a ghost, you know.”

“Or missing the chance to get rabies.”

Lorcan held her gaze for long enough that the noise outside faded.  Huffing, Elide settled back down and finally managed to pull her arm away from him.

“You never did answer my question,” she said.  She pulled a deck of playing cards from the backpack and began shuffling the deck.  She’d been content to play a one woman round of solitaire, but if he was going to insist on staying they could play poker.  It had been a while since she’d kicked his ass at it.

“What question?” he asked, tucking the now empty candy wrapper in the duffle bag.

“Why you’re here,” Elide said.  “You didn’t have to come.  I just texted the group so you’d stop bothering me about going to Maeve’s party.”

Maeve had been a miserable part of Elide’s life ever since starting college that September.  The older girl was relentlessly inserting herself into situations and inviting Lorcan out on “study dates.”  She used to have her claws latched onto Aelin, until the blonde nearly bit Maeve's head off a few weeks ago.  Unfortunately, the girl did know how to throw a party and given how midterms had sucked the life out of everyone it had seemed like a good idea to go.

But Elide still clung to one thread of sanity to know that being anywhere near Maeve while harboring a crush against Lorcan was the stupidest thing she could do.

“I didn’t want to go to Maeve’s party either,” Lorcan said.  He was leaning back on his elbows again and the shadows cast from the flashlight illuminated angles of his face she’d never noticed before. 

“You didn’t want to go to Maeve’s party?” Elide asked in disbelief. “Her family owns the country club and has enough fancy booze to keep the entire city sated.  She may be a bitch, but she knows how to have a good time.”

Lorcan barked out a laugh. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly, Lochan.”

Ignoring the blush that rose to her cheeks, Elide kept shuffling the cards.  She couldn’t bring herself to deal them out and invite him to play another little game with her.

Games with the likes of Lorcan were easy enough—don’t back down, keep a sharp tongue, and never apologize.  But it was moments like this when she kept making eye contact and kept fighting a blush that she had trouble remembering those little rules.  She wasn’t going to survive the night.

Lorcan held her gaze now, though, firm and steady.  

“I don’t like Maeve,” Elide finally said.  “She’s never bothered to talk to me, so why should I seek out her approval?”

That got her another smile.  

“Makes sense,” he replied, “why waste time on something that’s not worth it in the end?”

“Exactly.”

Outside, a gust of wind howled and rain slanted against the side of the cabin.  Something heavy thudded against the far wall sending a shudder through each of the beams and floor.  

Elide couldn’t help but shudder.  She wasn’t scared, of course, but sometimes she didn’t do too well during storms.

“Did the caretaker murder men or women?” Lorcan asked as dust spun in the glow of the flashlight. “Just so I know if I need to start running yet.”

“There’s no ghost,” Elide told him.

“You’re shaking,” he pointed out.

Indeed, she was.  Elide ignored it and began dealing out the cards to distract herself.  

“Seven card draw,” she said, “jokers are wild.”

“Weird way to play go-fish,” Lorcan muttered as he arranged his card.

“We’re playing poker,” she corrected.

Lorcan stared at her over his card. “Hell no, I’m not stupid enough to play poker against you.  And don’t give me that innocent I don’t know what you’re talking about look, it won’t work.”

He’d pitched his voice an octave in clear mockery of her.  Elide threw another candy bar at him. “I don’t sound like that!”

Lorcan only laughed, letting the candy bar bounce off his chest.

The wind continued.  And with the way Elide and Lorcan played—ruthless with no holding back—go-fish turned into a near bloody battle.  They ultimately called a truce after six rounds, three each.

“Tie-breaker!” Elide ordered, gathering the cards back up.

Lorcan groaned and fell on his back. “You said that last time.  How long are we staying here?”

“We only have to make it until sunrise,” she said and glanced at her watch, “which is seven hours away.”

“Seriously, woman?” Lorcan sat up enough to glare at her and Elide only smirked.

“Worried about missing your beauty sleep?”

“No, I’m worried about what this floor will do to my back.”  He sat up if only to glare at the offending matter.

“C’mon,” she said, “let's spread the blankets out.”

In a matter of seconds, they had the first two blankets spread out as a mat.  It would be a little better than laying on the bare floor.  Another gust of wind from outside, this one managing to ease through the nooks and crannies of the cabin.

Elide shivered. “I forgot how cold it gets out here.”

“You take the sleeping bag,” Lorcan said.

“I’m not letting you freeze to death.”

“Do you suggest we snuggle then?”

“Are you that touch starved that even the thought of snuggling has you sneering?”

They glared at each other from across the stretch of blankets.  Elide broke first and began to fully unzip the sleeping bag so it spread out completely. 

“You get one side, I get the other,” she said, “and remember, you’re the one who decided to join me out here.”

Lorcan rolled his eyes, toeing off his boots. “The ghost killed men and you’re just biding your time, aren’t you?”

“Please, if I wanted to get rid of you, I would have by now.”  The words were out before she could really process them herself, but Lorcan, it seemed, missed the implication hidden behind them.  Good.  She wouldn’t make it through the rest of the night if he started teasing her.

They settled down beneath the sleeping back with a good six inches between them.  There was a draft on Elide’s outer side, but she didn’t want to risk snuggling into Lorcan.  So she kept ramrod straight and clicked off the flashlight.

It was perfectly silent now.  Not even the little gusts of wind outside seemed to register anything in Elide.  She could hear the wood of the cabin settling and the occasional scuttle of a mouse off in one corner.  She tried not to think about that too closely.  Everything had settled into a lull that she almost thought Lorcan had fallen asleep beside her.

“I don’t like Maeve either,” he said into the darkness. “Don’t like that party scene, too.  It’s what got me into a mess in High School and I just managed to get all that behind me.”

Elide knew--mostly--what his high school years had been like.  Too many parties, not enough studying.  He would either flunk tests for not knowing the material or flunk because he was suspended.  For a while, Elide had thought there was nothing more to Lorcan Salvaterre than drunken nights and wasted DNA.

And boy, how she was wrong.

“So coming out to a haunted house behind a cemetery is how you decide to change your ways?” she turned toward him, just enough to catch the shake of his head.

“Well I’d like to think I helped prevent you from doing anything stupid,” he said.

“You failed on that when you let me pick the lock to the front door.”

Lorcan shifted closer to her and Elide could just make out the glint in his eyes.

“You are full of surprises, you know?”

Elide shrugged, finally feeling herself relax a little. “It’s what keeps things interesting.”

“Menace,” Lorcan muttered.

Elide reached out beneath the blanket to poke his side, earning a curse.

…

Somewhere along the way of their scattered conversations—they fell asleep.  Elide would never be able to explain how—considering the wind outside, the surety of mice and spiders crawling on the floor, and the guarantee of haunting of some sort happening—but sleep did fall over them.

And when she woke up to the pale streams of dawn, Elide found that she wasn’t freezing or covered in rodent bites.  Rather, she was tucked against Lorcan’s side, snug against his chest.  One of his arms fell around her waist, the other stretched over head.  She was nestled in so close that she could smell his cologne mingling with his natural scent.  She might have only gotten six hours of sleep, but it was the best damn rest she’d had in a long time.

Not good.  Not good. Not even remotely good.  Elide shifted, ready to roll back to her side of the makeshift bed.  Lorcan’s arm tightened around her keeping her firmly in place.  Which, sure wasn’t the worst thing in the world.  But this was also Lorcan.

She paused for a minute thinking about how her extra credit assignment was going to go if she admitted to a night of snuggling up beside one of her closest friends. 

Oh hell.  Her friend who she had a crush on.

Elide squinted up at Lorcan, his usually harsh face softening in his sleep.  How different he looked like this, more open and relaxed.  Closing her eyes, she let herself drift back off to sleep.  She would let her self worry about the ramifications of this later.

...

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[crownshattered]

|| So I’ve mentioned this stuff before in previous posts, but I thought that having an actual headcanon post with all the information in one place would be a good idea~ My NRC ocs (Kira, Lia, Kristian) all have their own event SSRs. They don’t have made up events but I decided to put them each in one event and have them be showcased, thus getting an SSR in that event. So below I will say what event they have an SSR card in, why they’re so important to the event, what the vignette is like, and kind of what the card looks like~

Keep in mind these are just their event SSRs. I’m sure they have SR and R cards in other events, but they’re only featured in one each~

Kira: Glorious Masquerade

If you know about Kira’s backstory, it’s kind of obvious just why she’s so important to the Glorious Masquerade event–it takes place in the City of Flowers, where she lived for almost half of her life.

She doesn’t contribute much to the actual storyline of the event. Unlike the other SSRs, she doesn’t reach the top of the belltower. Instead, she stops with Silver and Sebek to hold back the flowers. The most she contributes is when everyone is looking around at the town (by default, she’s in Malleus’ group, but this can change depending on the interaction). Since she’s actually from this town, she gives a bit of information and explains some things when Rollo doesn’t. She also does a lot to calm Malleus down when he gets so angry. I think I’d have her sing at the end as well…

What’s most important is her vignette. I haven’t determined much about it yet, but I know the premise is her talking about her past. I think Malleus will be with her for most of the vignette (unless we plot otherwise in an interaction). This isn’t necessarily a shippy thing either–if they aren’t being shipped together, they are simply friends. Depending on the interaction, someone can be put in Malleus’ place (like if she’s being shipped with Riddle, maybe Riddle is with her instead).

This takes place the night after the meeting (the day after the whole fire flower thing). She can’t sleep, so she walks around the town at night. Maybe someone sees her leaving and follows her (if so, it’s the person she does the vignette with, most likely Malleus). At some point she realizes she isn’t alone and addresses the other person. After realizing who it is, she explains that she couldn’t sleep so she wanted to walk around and see how the city has changed.

She goes into more detail about how she used to live here (since she didn’t really mention the circumstances of her living here during the event) and how her memories are far from good. She mentions that, even though years has gone by, the ghost of this city still haunts her. That’s when her partner (if there is one) suggests her go to her old house to face the demons and move on.

The last part of the vignette takes place at her old house. It’s an abandoned manor, and it doesn’t look like it’s been inhabited since she left. They go inside and wander the halls before she takes her partner up to the attic where she lived. Her old makeshift bed is there, as well as a long-dead flower she picked years ago. She touches a bit more on how she was treated in the past (not fully explaining just how bad it was, just that it was bad). But then she talks about how much her life has improved since she left. She says she has overcome this place and those who looked down on her. The vignette ends with her wiping the wetness of her eyes away and thanking her partner for convincing her to come here. She says that she feels better now and can finally put this place to rest.

Her card features her in her dress (I need to find the picture I have of the dress…) standing profile to the camera with her back to a wall. In her hands is a bright red rose as she looks up at the sky, which is mostly orange.

Her groovified card, like the others, is of her dancing at the party. She’s shown smiling and looking up at the camera as if she is actively dancing with someone taller than her.

Lia: The Phantom Bride

Given Lia’s job of having to take care of Idia, it isn’t very surprising why she’s important to this event. I haven’t gotten the chance to fully watch this event (I know, I write Idia, I need to watch it but I’m so busy…..) so I can’t give the specifics of what she does, but I have a general idea.

Like everyone else, Lia tries to woo Eliza to get her to leave Idia alone. Lia isn’t part of the “main group” because she isn’t immediately eliminated. Actually, she almost doesn’t get eliminated. The whole purpose of her in this event is that she is exactly what Eliza wants. She is above 180 cm (just barely, but still), definitely has an air of nonchalance (she doesn’t seem to care about anything), healthy (well, deathly pale but so is Idia’s) and lustrous skin, lidded eyes, a very charming smile (if you can get her to smile), beautiful hair (not sparkling, but with her strand of white it’s very unique and special), and with perfect lips. She’s Eliza’s perfect dark prince.

So, Lia ends up dressing as a man to woo Eliza. And she almost succeeds (since Lia actually fits the description even better than Idia does.!!). However, Eliza eventually realizes that she’s a woman and rejects her with a slap.

Maybe that ending will change once I watch the ending of the actual event, but you get the gist. Lia crossdresses and almost ends up getting married instead XDD

I don’t really know what her vignette would be ngl… I’ve only seen a tiny bit of Idia’s, after all. But I’m pretty sure it will be her getting prepared to “woo” Eliza (which is basically someone, likely Vil, dressing her up and making her look like a man).

Her card is for all the lesbians out there KJSDHJDSHKJDSHKJSDSDS It has the exact same vibe as Idia’s: dark suit, dark makeup, nonchalant expression while staring directly at the camera. Thinking that she’s running a hand through her hair too. The thing is, even though she’s dressed up like a man, if you know her, you can easily tell that she’s a woman–she isn’t wearing any cosmetics that makes her look like a guy. So she ends up just looking like this badass goth girlfriend in a suit XDD honestly, her card is just eye-candy for those out there who like a goth gf in a suit KJSDHJDSHKJSDHKJDS

I’m not exactly sure what I want her groovified card to look like… It might be her introducing herself to Eliza. So you can see Eliza kinda swooning as Lia has on a dark yet charming smile, holding one of her hand’s up to her lips. It’s all SUPER fake, of course, but she has to do her job so…yup XDD

Kristian: ???

......i have no idea just yet, so if anyone has any ideas for an event to throw him in, please let me know XDD

[crownshattered-arch]

|| So I've mentioned this stuff before in previous posts, but I thought that having an actual headcanon post with all the information in one place would be a good idea~ My NRC ocs (Kira, Lia, Kristian) all have their own event SSRs. They don't have made up events but I decided to put them each in one event and have them be showcased, thus getting an SSR in that event. So below I will say what event they have an SSR card in, why they're so important to the event, what the vignette is like, and kind of what the card looks like~

Keep in mind these are just their event SSRs. I'm sure they have SR and R cards in other events, but they're only featured in one each~

Kira: Glorious Masquerade

If you know about Kira's backstory, it's kind of obvious just why she's so important to the Glorious Masquerade event--it takes place in the City of Flowers, where she lived for almost half of her life.

She doesn't contribute much to the actual storyline of the event. Unlike the other SSRs, she doesn't reach the top of the belltower. Instead, she stops with Silver and Sebek to hold back the flowers. The most she contributes is when everyone is looking around at the town (by default, she's in Malleus' group, but this can change depending on the interaction). Since she's actually from this town, she gives a bit of information and explains some things when Rollo doesn't. She also does a lot to calm Malleus down when he gets so angry. I think I'd have her sing at the end as well...

What's most important is her vignette. I haven't determined much about it yet, but I know the premise is her talking about her past. I think Malleus will be with her for most of the vignette (unless we plot otherwise in an interaction). This isn't necessarily a shippy thing either--if they aren't being shipped together, they are simply friends. Depending on the interaction, someone can be put in Malleus' place (like if she's being shipped with Riddle, maybe Riddle is with her instead).

This takes place the night after the meeting (the day after the whole fire flower thing). She can't sleep, so she walks around the town at night. Maybe someone sees her leaving and follows her (if so, it's the person she does the vignette with, most likely Malleus). At some point she realizes she isn't alone and addresses the other person. After realizing who it is, she explains that she couldn't sleep so she wanted to walk around and see how the city has changed.

She goes into more detail about how she used to live here (since she didn't really mention the circumstances of her living here during the event) and how her memories are far from good. She mentions that, even though years has gone by, the ghost of this city still haunts her. That's when her partner (if there is one) suggests her go to her old house to face the demons and move on.

The last part of the vignette takes place at her old house. It's an abandoned manor, and it doesn't look like it's been inhabited since she left. They go inside and wander the halls before she takes her partner up to the attic where she lived. Her old makeshift bed is there, as well as a long-dead flower she picked years ago. She touches a bit more on how she was treated in the past (not fully explaining just how bad it was, just that it was bad). But then she talks about how much her life has improved since she left. She says she has overcome this place and those who looked down on her. The vignette ends with her wiping the wetness of her eyes away and thanking her partner for convincing her to come here. She says that she feels better now and can finally put this place to rest.

Her card features her in her dress (I need to find the picture I have of the dress...) standing profile to the camera with her back to a wall. In her hands is a bright red rose as she looks up at the sky, which is mostly orange.

Her groovified card, like the others, is of her dancing at the party. She's shown smiling and looking up at the camera as if she is actively dancing with someone taller than her.

Lia: The Phantom Bride

Given Lia's job of having to take care of Idia, it isn't very surprising why she's important to this event. I haven't gotten the chance to fully watch this event (I know, I write Idia, I need to watch it but I'm so busy.....) so I can't give the specifics of what she does, but I have a general idea.

Like everyone else, Lia tries to woo Eliza to get her to leave Idia alone. Lia isn't part of the "main group" because she isn't immediately eliminated. Actually, she almost doesn't get eliminated. The whole purpose of her in this event is that she is exactly what Eliza wants. She is above 180 cm (just barely, but still), definitely has an air of nonchalance (she doesn't seem to care about anything), healthy (well, deathly pale but so is Idia's) and lustrous skin, lidded eyes, a very charming smile (if you can get her to smile), beautiful hair (not sparkling, but with her strand of white it's very unique and special), and with perfect lips. She's Eliza's perfect dark prince.

So, Lia ends up dressing as a man to woo Eliza. And she almost succeeds (since Lia actually fits the description even better than Idia does.!!). However, Eliza eventually realizes that she's a woman and rejects her with a slap.

Maybe that ending will change once I watch the ending of the actual event, but you get the gist. Lia crossdresses and almost ends up getting married instead XDD

I don't really know what her vignette would be ngl... I've only seen a tiny bit of Idia's, after all. But I'm pretty sure it will be her getting prepared to "woo" Eliza (which is basically someone, likely Vil, dressing her up and making her look like a man).

Her card is for all the lesbians out there KJSDHJDSHKJDSHKJSDSDS It has the exact same vibe as Idia's: dark suit, dark makeup, nonchalant expression while staring directly at the camera. Thinking that she's running a hand through her hair too. The thing is, even though she's dressed up like a man, if you know her, you can easily tell that she's a woman--she isn't wearing any cosmetics that makes her look like a guy. So she ends up just looking like this badass goth girlfriend in a suit XDD honestly, her card is just eye-candy for those out there who like a goth gf in a suit KJSDHJDSHKJSDHKJDS

I'm not exactly sure what I want her groovified card to look like... It might be her introducing herself to Eliza. So you can see Eliza kinda swooning as Lia has on a dark yet charming smile, holding one of her hand's up to her lips. It's all SUPER fake, of course, but she has to do her job so...yup XDD

Kristian: Fairy Gala: Operation Steal The Show

I know a good amount about the ghost marriage event from hearing things about it, but I really don't know anything but the basics about this event. I know a lot about the second one, but Kristian is in the first fairy gala event. All I know is that they're trying to sneakily trick the fairies......I think.

So, naturally, I can't tell you what Kristian does to contribute to this event. I will revise this post once I do the event in the next few weeks. But until then, I decided Kristian has an SSR in this event because he's perfect for this kind of thing. If this event is anything like the second one, the basic goal of the main group is to be beautiful and elegant, which is very hard to do if you have fragile masculinity.

However, Kristian doesn't. He has already mastered the art of being beautiful and handsome at the same time. He's already created this "prince charming" persona about him, so he's ready for this.

Again, I will fill this out more once I do the event. I have no idea what he will do in the event, what is cards will look like, nor what his vignette will be. But I'll add it to this post once I do know!!

[innytoes]

there are so many good options to choose from but I think “okay…this looks bad” most fully encompasses the chaos that would be a lukebobby bachelor party

A sequel to the 'you’d marry me if I asked right?' fic.

"Okay, this looks bad," Bobby said the second Carrie came into the little holding area of the police station. From the look on her face, he wasn't sure if she'd already posted bail, was still trying to decide if she was going to bail them out, or had decided not to and was only coming back here to gloat.

All three were about equally likely, but he would be damned if he woke up Lola at three in the morning to come bail them out.

Reggie had already used up his phone call. If this didn't work, Willie was next, and if that didn't work, they were going to have to go with their last resort.

None of them wanted to call Emily Patterson, so owing Carrie a massive favour and getting eternally dragged for this it was.

"I'll say," his cousin said, crossing her arms. "I thought Alex' bachelor party was supposed to be the tame one."

"Excuse me?" came the offended question from the back of the cell, and Luke immediately jumped in to soothe Alex' wounded ego. Willie started cackling, which wasn't helping matters at all.

"Yeah, that's what we thought, too," Bobby said. Alex was supposed to be the planner, the anxious one, the trustworthy one. Sure, Reggie's party had been wild, with silly costumes, and paintball, and lots of junk food, and yes, maybe some strippers. But the worst that had happened was a bit of a hangover and not being able to get the body glitter off.

Alex' party had managed to end with them in jail for trespassing, Reggie pressing an ice-pack against his nose, Bobby without his pants, and Willie missing one shoe.

Also, they would probably be hung over in the morning. Just to make it extra special.

"Who knew that abandoned theme park that shut down two years ago still had security and guard dogs, huh?" Luke said cheerfully, popping up behind Bobby and wrapping his arms around him, chin propped on his shoulder. "Hi Carrie!"

He sounded remarkably cheerful for someone who had been clinging to a tree branch shrieking a couple of hours ago. It did probably help that when the security guard called off the dogs and made them help get Luke out of the tree, he'd fallen right on top of Alex, breaking his fall. (Alex had been less chipper about it.)

"Luke," Carrie said. "Is this going to be a regular occurrence once you join the family?"

"God I hope not," Luke said, but he looked absolutely giddy at the way she phrased that. Bobby couldn't help but agree. Luke was gonna marry him. Him. Luke was in love with him and said yes to marrying him for reasons other than pulling one over on his super rich, super judgemental grandmother.

"Yeah, next time we'll bring steaks to distract the guard dogs," Willie said, before being elbowed in his side by Alex.

"Fine, I'll bail you lot out," she said. "But first..." And then she turned around, grabbing her phone and raising it high. She smiled as she took the selfie, managing to catch Bobby mid-grimace. Luke was beaming and giving him bunny ears, Reggie was waving, and Alex had his face in his hands, Willie draped over him happily.

And if maybe they had that picture on the mantle of the house they bought with the money from the trust fund, well, it was a good thing Carrie didn't visit often, so she couldn't gloat about it.

[captainsy-cookiemonster]

Campfire

Summary: You meet up with some other students for beer and ghost stories around the campfire

Pairing: Mikey (hellraiser) x reader (2nd person POV)

Warnings: horror stories (talks of blood and murder), alcohol, probably implied drunk driving (DON’T FUCKING DO THAT!!!), cute fluff, cuddling, hoodie sharing, maybe implied smut and nudity? Just to be safe?

A/N: another story that was inspired by a conversation with my amazing wifey @emyearns when we were talking about sharing a hoodie and campfired with Mike.

Word count: 1,040

Title: Campfire

Enjoy💗 writers live off validation so if you liked it, please comment and reblog💖 Thank you💕💕💕

You wonder why you had agreed to come along with him. But the alternative would have been sitting alone in your little apartment, waiting for Mikey to come home. So going with Mike was the better option.

Still it filled you with dread as you arrived at the site. Mikey parked his car at the side of the road. You grab your stuff, a blanket and some booze and make your way up the small hill. Out of sight of the road, people were already standing around a campfire. And…  You didn’t know a single person!

It was a small get-together, consisting of a few students from one of Mikey’s seminars. Which one, you had no idea, but you didn’t really care either. The thought of not knowing anyone besides Mike gave you anxiety. Hopefully it’s not more than a bottle of beer couldn’t fix.

While Mikey goes to greet everyone, cheerful as ever, you cling to him like a lost puppy. After a quick ‘hi’ directed at everyone, you sit down on the blanket, pressing yourself into Mike’s side while he happily chats away.

Beer bottles are being handed out, just like bags of marshmallows and you start to feel more comfortable, the alcohol making its way into your bloodstream, amplified by the sticky sweet s’mores. The conversation soon shifts from topics like the art projects so far over to possible new ones to ghost stories and urban legends. You know, the usual campfire stuff.

At some, you roll your eyes. They were so obviously made up that they weren’t even scary. Others made you jump, causing your boyfriend to chuckle and wrap his arm tighter around you.

When the last girl ends her story, a shiver runs through you.

“Come on, sweetcheeks, that wasn’t scary,” Mikey whispers into your ear as you tremble against him.

“N-no… puppy, I’m cold.” You pout and tear your eyes from the dancing flames to blink at your boyfriend.

“I told you to wear that other jacket, but did you listen? No,” he provokes, rolling his eyes, then grins. “C’mere.” Mike spreads his legs so you could sit between them and unzips his hoodie. “C’mon, get in here,” he tells you. Once you’re settled against his chest, he zips the hoodie back up and holds you tightly in his arms, enveloping you in his warmth and his scent. Like a cocoon, he’s wrapped around you.

“Thank you, puppy,” you whisper, and lean your head back to give him a kiss where you can reach – his jaw.

“‘s okay, sweetcheeks,” he mumbles, dipping his head down to rest on your shoulder and quickly pecks your cheek.

You startle when a yell meets your ears. “Hey, lovebirds! You guys know a story? Mike?” One guy shouts at you.

“Oh yeah! I’ve got a good one!” Mikey shouts over the fire, his voice way louder than it needs to be. Damn, he has no volume control! Like none!

Mike starts telling his story, some horror story about an abandoned house a town over. They say it’s haunted. Couple after couple who moved in died the same way. Their throats had been cut. Every time it was in the living room. All the doors and windows were locked and no one ever found the knife. Neighbors would swear they had seen the silhouettes of the couples dancing in the windows before the lights suddenly went out. They’d hear a piercing scream and when the lights would go back on, there’d be no one in the window. They’d never see anyone entering or leaving.

You had heard the same story a few times before, at parties in high school. You’ve also heard that after the last couple died, the owner sold the house to the town. It’s most likely nothing more than a pile of rubble now, if not gone completely, to make room for a new house.

You only half listen to Mikey, leaning against him. He’s warm and cozy and you’re starting to get tired with the amount of alcohol in your blood.

Well, that’s until –

“Haahh!! He’ll get you!” He yells and jolts forwards slightly, seemingly having forgotten about you for just a moment.

You shriek at his loud voice and the sudden movement that so rudely tore you from your nap. And what does your asshole boyfriend do? He laughs his ass off; with his arms tightly around you, he’s shaking both of you with laughter.

When no one could come up with a story anymore, the conversation died for a moment, until a guitar appeared, practically out of nowhere. But the girl who brought it couldn’t play for shit – most likely because she was too drunk. While everybody is telling her to pass the instrument along to someone who can play, you pout at your boyfriend, silently begging him to speak up. He only sighs.

“Fine,” he whispers, “Gimme! I can play a little!” he calls and is promptly handed the old acoustic guitar. With you still zipped up in his hoodie with him, he positions the guitar in your lad and gives it a strum. Totally out of tune. Under the gaze of the other students, he quickly tunes the instrument as good as he can.

“Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.” He snorts and starts to play. While everyone starts singing along drunkenly, Mike only hums, whispering the lyrics into your ear from time to time.

The remainder of the night disappears in a blur. You don’t even bother listening to the conversations, only startle a little when Mike talks – still way too loud – but soon doze off while staring into the dancing flames of the slowly dying campfire.

You have no idea how you made it home, but somehow you did. Obviously. While Mikey is fumbling with the keys, you’re plastered against his back, arms tightly wrapped around his torso. And once the door slams shut behind you, his lips are on yours. He pushes you against the door and hastily tears off your jacket. Clumsily making out, you shed each other of your clothes, stumbling through your apartment. But once in the bedroom, the two of you just collapse on the mattress, fast asleep as soon as your face hits the pillow.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Hey does nie huisang's mother ever come back? I really liked the part where she doted and bonded with mingjue. I think even though she's not human she'd be even more delighted with him and more or less adopt him all over again after seeing how he cared so fiercely for huisang (also I don't think she'd care that guangyao has given up. Try to touch either of her kids and your a dead man... or maybe just mingjue? Since he's human and a LOT younger than her maybe she just goes around killing the people that have the capacity and wish to kill him)

spontaneous sequel to this morning’s fic (ao3 link here)

-

Huli jing were pretty rare, as spiritual beasts went, and that was generally considered to be a good thing - when they were bad, they were very very bad - but Nie Mingjue faithfully followed up on every possible lead regardless, putting it out among the other cultivation sects that he had a special interest and would appreciate - with monetary remuneration, even - a heads up should one ever show itself.

Mostly this meant following up on a lot of false leads, including, in one somewhat embarrassing case, an actual fox that had stolen the local farmer’s prize goose.

Still: family was family, and so he kept it up.

He had to stop during the war, naturally, and in the period immediately following it when his health had gotten very bad for a while, although luckily the dragon managed to fix it back up, and he’d been doing very well ever since. Lan Xichen had wondered if it was Clarity and Jin Guangyao had refused to talk to him for a month for some reason, but that wasn’t that important.

He was feeling better now, so he started following up on leads again. Nie Huaisang was coming up on his first quarter-century very soon, and that was supposed to be a big event - his first tail! - and books were all well and good but someone, anyone, with experience was better.

Ironically enough, he found what he was looking for on a scheduled hunt that wasn’t anything anyone had identified as a huli jing, but rather what appeared to be rather a great deal of nu gui appearing all at once near Lanling, enough to make a notorious womanizer like Jin Guangshan start to sweat. They’d all been making the rounds, all the various Great Sects together - even Jiang Cheng had joined in, as well as Lan Wangji, recently emerged from seclusion with a scowl firmly on his face.

“Why do you think they’re aiming at the Jin sect?” Lan Xichen wondered aloud as they walked around the edges of an abandoned village very close to Lanling - one of the trouble spots. “It’d be one thing if it were one of them, but so many...?”

“My theory is that someone is murdering all of Sect Leader Jin’s outside women so that they’ll go after him,” Jiang Cheng said, then glanced at Jin Guangyao. “No offense meant, of course.”

Jin Guangyao waved a hand dismissively. He’d started loosening up in the time since he met the dragon, revealing a bit more of his sharper and nastier side in a way that made Nie Mingjue respect him more than all of his fake softness had, and for some reason that had made Jiang Cheng warm right up to him. All for the good, in Nie Mingjue’s opinion, since they were all but co-raising that nephew of theirs...

“Who would do that, though?” he asked. “It’s as if they bear him a grudge, but it seems like a roundabout way of going about -”

“Dumpling!”

Nie Mingjue stopped moving.

There was a woman standing in the door to one of the village houses. Like a nu gui she was dressed all in red, but her flesh was ruddy and her complexion vibrant; her luxurious hair looped in a widow’s braids but her figure just as gorgeous as it had ever been.

She held out her hands towards Nie Mingjue, smiling. “Oh, cabbage bun, meat pie, my darling! How have you been?”

“...did she just...”

“Right to Chifeng-zun‘s face?”

Nie Mingjue put Baxia away.

“Mingjue-xiong?” Lan Xichen asked, frowning. “You should be careful; we had heard that this village was abandoned of all human life.”

“No one who calls Chifeng-zun a cabbage bun could be human,” Jiang Cheng mumbled under his breath. 

“Second mother?” Nie Mingjue called tentatively as he approached, and ignored how the cultivators around him all abruptly went silent and slack-jawed. “Is that you?”

“Naturally,” she said. “You don’t think I’d miss my baby’s birthday, do you? After you did such a good job taking care of him, too! Oh, my little carp, I’m sorry it took so long. I had to cut one off to escape, you understand, and once you do that you’re really rather stuck until you gather enough power to get back to full strength...would’ve been a touch awkward, wouldn’t you say?”

She certainly talked about as much as Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue reflected.

“He’ll be happy to see you,” he said. If this was the wrong huli jing - and he wouldn’t be shocked if it was, what with the way they changed faces - and a trick was being played, it wouldn’t work on Nie Huaisang. “Were you planning on staying long? Just the birthday, or...?”

He wasn’t giving up Nie Huaisang to anyone at all, not even his birth mother.

“I hadn’t quite decided,” she said, nodding in a way that meant that she understood his meaning and didn’t intend to dispute it; he relaxed at the sight of her agreement. “I got a little distracted, actually. Don’t think I didn’t hear about what that nasty man tried to do to you!”

“Nasty man?” Nie Mingjue asked, puzzled. “Do you mean Wen Ruohan? That was ages ago.”

“Not him, my gooey little egg! That nasty Jin sect leader, all sly and underhanded tricks - not that I mind sly and underhanded tricks, of course, least of all murderous ones - but I mean, really. The gall of that man, thinking he could snap up my little morsel before I could!”

“...does she like Chifeng-zun or want to eat him?” Jiang Cheng whispered.

“Unknown,” Lan Wangji murmured back.

“Shhh,” Lan Xichen said. “A-Yao, are you all right? You’ve gone terribly pale...”

“Anyway, chicken wing, I decided to bring back all of his nightmares to haunt him,” she chattered on cheerfully, throwing her head haughtily, the eyes of all the men and women irresistibly followed the graceful lines of her neck and shoulders, though most of them were able to pull their eyes away a moment later. That was her mercy, rather than their strength; she was a strong enough huli jing to entrap a sect leader, and Nie Mingjue’s father had been no slouch, even if he had bad taste in bed partners. “It’s been ever so much fun.”

Nie Mingjue sighed. “Second mother,” he said. “I thought I asked you not to kill people? As a special birthday favor to me?”

“Oh, pork chop, I know! I haven’t forgotten - no killing people around you, I remember, I remember. I haven’t killed anyone...well, in connection with this, anyway. I just had a little chat with some of my underworld friends and brought the ones who’d already died back.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes shot straight to a - by now - even more pale Jin Guangyao. “Uh,” he said. “By chance, second mother, did you happen to pass by Yunping...?”

“Such a sweet little tanghulu you are! I could pop you right into my mouth and never frown.” He was only a few steps away from her now, and she danced forward to pat him on the cheek. “Don’t worry! I know how much you care for your friends. I made sure not to send A-Shi anywhere those mean old cultivators could get her.”

“A-Yao! Oh, someone help me, I think he’s stopped breathing - come, sit down -”

“You really need to stop bringing back nu gui,” Nie Mingjue decided to say instead of dealing with...that. “They’re not getting past Jinlin Tower’s defenses anyway, and we’re worried about collateral damage.”

His second mother heaved a sigh. “I know, I know,” she said. “I had the same thought as you, meatball, about the defenses. You caught me just as I finished upgrading.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t like the sound of that.

“Of course, it isn’t working out right,” she added, pouting. “You’d think someone who got accused of being a demon so often wouldn’t be so picky about who he’s being asked to murder.”

“I already told you that I’m not a vicious ghost!” a surprisingly familiar voice retorted from inside the house. “I refuse to go around killing people!”

“Oh no - now Jiang Cheng’s fallen down, too! Wangji, could you - Wangji? Wangji!”

Nie Mingjue covered his face with his hand. “You brought back Wei Wuxian.”

“I brought back Wei Wuxian,” his second mother agreed. “I thought it’d be poetic justice - the wronged man come back for revenge. But he’s being persnickety about it, so I have half a mind to just let him go.”

“Good idea,” Nie Mingjue said, deciding to just - let it go. Someone else could deal with it. Possibly Lan Xichen, since it sounded like everyone else had fainted. “Anyway, you’re far too busy to pursue vengeance right now.”

“I am?”

“I know how much you like to throw parties. Don’t you want to help me plan Huaisang’s twenty fifth?”

“Oh!” She clapped her hands. “Absolutely! We can invite positively everyone that tried to get in your way and show off how good a job raising him you did!”

Nie Mingjue thought back over all the creatures he’d ever encountered.

“We’re going to need a bigger venue.”

[buzzin-rp-memes]

Spooky Scary Sentence Starters

Some Halloween starters! Feel free to edit how you see fit!

Trick or Treat

“Trick or treat!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?”

“I’m never too old for candy.”

“FREE CANDY!”

“Why a pear...?”

“They’re nutritious teats!”

“Even the dentist gave us candy.”

“When the sign said one I think they meant the candy... not the whole bowl.”

“I’m going to eat all of this candy tonight!”

“Wait! We missed this neighborhood!”

“No one dares to trick or treat at that house...”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to go this way.”

“Why are all my starbursts YELLOW?!”

“More candy, please?”

“Wait! I have extra candy!”

“Is it just me or were those people a little creepy?”

“Two yellow starbursts? Now that’s terrifying.”

Haunted House

“GHOST GHOST GHOST”

“What, are you scared?”

“Woah, hey it’s okay. It’s not real, _. I’m sorry I didn’t know this would freak you out this much.”

“I don’t understand how you enjoy these places.”

"Why did we have to go to a REAL haunted house?! Why couldn’t we just go to the ones where you just pay actors to scare you?!”

“Oh, we scared them real good.”

“What do you think of these special effects for the haunted house?”

"Lamest haunted house ever.”

“I’m scared.”

 “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Yeah, we’re dead.”

“We shouldn’t have come here!”

“This house is abandoned for a reason.”

“Don’t worry, the ghosts here are friendly.”

“You can talk to ghosts?”

“If you want to come to a haunted house, just come to mine.”

“I’m not scared of anything!”

“Let’s get some booze up in this place so we can party with the ghosts!”

“I don’t think ghosts can drink alcohol.”

“Getting drunk/high in a haunted house doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“Stop taunting the ghosts!”

“Fuck this shit, I’m outta here.”

“Don’t worry, they’re harmless.”

“Being actors for a haunted house is pretty fun.”

Halloween Dates/Flirty

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from all the monsters.”

“Let’s stay home and watch a bunch of horror movies.”

“Your costume is cute.”

“Gosh, you look so hot in that.”

“The candy is going on sale the day after! We can go buy it all!”

“Wanna be my date to the costume party?”

“Oh these couple costumes are so much fun!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cuddle you during all the scary parts.”

“Let’s carve pumpkins together!”

“Look I carved my pumpkin to look like you- or well I tried.”

“You’re the only treat I need.”

“How about we go on a walk.”

“Kissing under the full moon on a Halloween night is rather romantic.”

“Let’s go on the hayride!”

“I got you all of your favorite treats.”

“Cmon, let’s go to the fall festival!”

“Come help me with the Halloween decorations~”

“Sorry, love, but you just can’t scare me. You’re too cute.”

“Hold my hand, you seem scared.”

“Let’s dance to some spooky tunes!”

“You’re my boo~”

“I made us some caramel apples.”

“Are you scared or do you just want to hold my hand?”

“Woah, these stories are pretty scary.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you that badly!”

“We need ALL the spooky decorations.”

“Is that a ring in the jack-o-lantern?”

“Maybe a date in a creepy forest on Halloween was a bad idea...”

“Well be the cutest couple on Halloween!”

“I’d still love you even if you were a monster.”

Other

“Halloween gives me the creeps.”

“No way I’m leaving the house today.”

“You’re a vampire/werewolf/monster/etc?!”

“Nothing scares me.”

“Weird things keep happening.”

“I’m beginning to think I’m cursed.”

“Why do you always decorate with those creepy dolls for Halloween?!”

“We’re fucked.”

“You’re definitely that guy who’s always first to die in a horror movie.”

“Oh I love those decorations!”

“BOO! I totally scared you!”

“I’m going to be sick...”

“IT’S SPOOKY TIME BITCHES!”

“Candy corn is disgusting.”

“Candy corn is the true Halloween candy!”

“You’ve heard of pineapple pizza, now brace yourselves for CANDY CORN PIZZA!”

“Halloween is the best holiday.”

[whaleofatjme1920]

Hi hi! May I request a romantic matchup for SCP Foundation from your ongoing event? Thank you so much!! And congratulations for reaching 1K followers!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

×××

I go by the name Prince or Jun, and my pronouns are : He/They. I'm an INFP and a 4'11" Pisces.

I'm a total introvert who would not leave the house unless necessary, and I tend to avoid large crowds and people since I have social anxiety. I'm quite distant, cold and awkward when I first meet people but I get really weird ( ahem, shameless.) and outgoing once I warm up to someone. I'm a worrywart and prone to have pessimistic/intrusive thoughts. My humor is dark and inappropriate and very sexual. Although, I'm panromantic asexual. My love language are physical affection ( back hugs, cuddles, face peppering, playing with your hands, hand holding, & arm over the shoulder. ), and cheesy/corny flirts. I'm also a psychology student, an artist, a cosplayer, and a creative makeup artist. I enjoy horror films and historical novels. I like playing pranks on others, listening to all kinds of music, and dancing. I dream to be a full-time cosplayer or a psychologist. I like to travel the world as well, take photos, and, of course, watch anime and read manga! I like hanging out in a dimly lit bedroom, watching movies, or at an abandoned area ( parking lot, building, etc. ) I enjoy solitude and the dark. Oh! I'm scared of butterflies and allergic to dust.

I tend to be impulsive at times ( mainly concerning money ), and I exhibit extreme mood swings. I'm very affectionate though, and always willing to lend a shoulder or an ear. I also care too much. Apart from that, I'm very sarcastic and a swearing sailor ( I cuss a lot with people I'm comfortable with. ) Playful, bad memory ( sometimes ), bad at picking up jokes most of the times, and has a tendency to suddenly disappear for a few weeks before returning like nothing happened. I need to recharge to be able to socialize again.

I'm a total sap and an affectionate person to the person I love. I'm the type to wake up every morning and message them, "Good morning, hun!" and I also check up on them if they're feeling well.

I have two ideal dates.

One : Just casually lounging at either one's bedroom. The lights are dim, the windows are closed along with the curtains while we cuddle on the bed, binge watching movie series or an animated series. We'd have snacks and drinks as we stay up late till 3 AM. Maybe we'd take short, funny videos and post them on our stories. Turn up the music and have small dance party. Do each other's hair and makeup. Have a small fashion show. A sleepover date, to be precise.

Two : Going on an exploring date to an abandoned building or a forest. Just the two of us. No other people around. Taking photos or videos, or just hanging out as we have small talk. It'll be even better if it's a haunted area and we do it at night, scaring each other just for shits and giggles.

Apart from that, I also like someone who can be submissive towards me. I find them to be cute and it makes me wanna bully them more for being so adorable :") ( Will spoil them to bits after ). I may be short but I do not enjoy being the little spoon/submissive partner.

I have wavy, black hair that ends above my shoulders, it's shaved on the left side. I have dark brown eyes and a slightly tanned skin tone. I have scars all over my legs and arms due to skin asthma. My ears are pierced.

I usually wear comfortable clothing such as hoodies, jackets, sweaters, long-sleeves, tank tops, jogging pants, shorts and oversized shirts. However, when I want to look presentable, I wear button up shirts, skinny jeans, cargo shorts, high heels, oversized sweaters, boots and a dress ( rarely ). As you can see, my fashion sense is a mixture of both feminine and masculine clothing. I love androgyny.

Your matchup is... Dr. Bright!

[Disclaimer, if you're coming from the tags, this is part of a special event I am holding from November 17th to the 21st where I am accepting matchups from all fandoms I currently write for. Feel free to check out my 1K celebration masterlist here for rules during the window this event is open! If it's past the 21st midnight USA central time, do NOT send me a matchup. I will have to politely turn you down. Sorry </3]

In General

I almost wanted to put you with Kondraki but I decided that Jack was better. Let's get into that.

Things He Likes About You

I feel he really likes your sense of humor because it's on par with his. Jack also gets along well with Pisces people tbh. And you're interested in cosplay?? I think Jack LOVES cosplay the two of you need to cosplay together PLEASE. Your date ideas seem to really resonate with him as well, and that's kinda why I put you with Jack over Kondraki. I think Kondraki is... tired. Let that man rest. Jack has energy. While I don't think he's super hyper funny man, he's definitely up for fun things like adventuring with you. I'll come back to this though. Jack loves that you're a little spitfire too, makes him smile and he finds it hot tbh. Your sense of style is really nice too, and he may lend you his coats and jackets from time to time. Your hair is super gorgeous to him, and he loves that it's shaved. Literally you physically match up so well with him.

You Two as a Couple

Alright here's the section I really like going off the rails in!! Jack actually doesn't mind large crowds or being around a lot of different people, but as an introvert he needs his time alone. He'll definitely spend days with you where it's silent and just the two of you so you both can replenish your energy. He knows about your social anxiety and will comfort you - Jack is pretty good on mental health matters for literally everyone but himself smh. He's protective, but you can probably bend him into submission pretty easily tbh. He's always in charge, let him let go once and a while. Will absolutely shoot back your humor with his. It's super fun. Loves your art and will doodle with you from time to time. I actually think Jack doesn't really listen to music but instead likes podcasts? But he'd never say no to dancing with you. I feel the two of you would get into small prank wars. Very cute. As he's a higher up at the Foundation, he's going to leverage that so the two of you can actually travel and see places. Doesn't matter where, he just wants to fill up a polaroid wall with you. He'll handle the butterflies, don't worry at all. Jack can and will act as a sense of reason when it comes to money matters. He'll keep you in check. LOVES that you are affectionate because I think he's just emotionally starved lmfao. He's pretty affectionate towards you in ways you probably wouldn't expect tbh. So, both of your date ideas line up with him pretty well. The first one definitely, I feel those happen a lot. Jack isn't entirely into makeup?? But he'd try it and probably grow a fondness for it whenever you do it for him. Do his nails though, he'd really like that. I feel he calls you "The Little Prince" as a joke -. The exploring date speaks for itself like, that's just guaranteed. Polaroid wall. Again, Jack can be pretty submissive at times just - like it works out lmfao. Jack is also a your rock whenever things feel like they're too much. You can confide in him wholly, and he'll love you even more taking proper care and consideration.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things

Hi love bug, thank you so much! Hope you enjoyed this match up. <3

[serodev]

Hello! Hello! May I request a SFW matchup for your 500 followers event, please? Thank you so much in advance and congratulations reaching that many followers! 🎉🎉

Both humans & demons. I'm fine with either.

I hope this wasn't too long HAHAHA!

×××

I go by the name Prince or Jun, and my pronouns are : He/They and I'm proudly 4'11" HAHAHA! I'm 18 years old.

I'm a total introvert who would not leave the house unless necessary, and I tend to avoid large crowds and people since I have social anxiety. I'm quite distant, cold and awkward when I first meet people but I get really weird ( ahem, shameless. ) and outgoing once I warm up to someone. I'm a worrywart and prone to have pessimistic/intrusive thoughts. My humor is dark and inappropriate and very sexual. Although, I'm panromantic asexual ( poly, as well ). My love language are physical affection ( back hugs, cuddles, face peppering, playing with your hands, hand holding, & arm over the shoulder. ), and cheesy/corny flirts. I enjoy horror films and historical novels. I like playing pranks on others, listening to all kinds of music, and dancing. I like to travel the world as well as take photos! I like hanging out in a dimly lit bedroom, watching movies, or at an abandoned area ( parking lot, building, etc. ) I enjoy solitude and the dark. Oh! I'm scared of butterflies and allergic to dust.

I tend to be impulsive at times ( mainly concerning money ), and I exhibit extreme mood swings. I'm very affectionate though, and always willing to lend a shoulder or an ear. I also care too much. Apart from that, I'm very sarcastic and a swearing sailor ( I cuss a lot with people I'm comfortable with. ) Playful, bad memory ( sometimes ), bad at picking up jokes most of the times, and has a tendency to suddenly disappear for a few weeks before returning like nothing happened. I need to recharge to be able to socialize again.

I'm a total sap and an affectionate person to the person I love. I'm the type to wake up every morning and message them, "Good morning, hun!" and I also check up on them if they're feeling well.

I have two ideal dates.

One : Just casually lounging at either one's bedroom. The lights are dim, the windows are closed along with the curtains while we cuddle on the bed, binge watching movie series or an animated series. We'd have snacks and drinks as we stay up late till 3 AM. Maybe we'd take short, funny videos and post them on our stories. Turn up the music and have small dance party. Do each other's hair and makeup. Have a small fashion show. A sleepover date, to be precise.

Two : Going on an exploring date to an abandoned building or a forest. Just the two of us. No other people around. Taking photos or videos, or just hanging out as we have small talk. It'll be even better if it's a haunted area and we do it at night, scaring each other just for shits and giggles.

Apart from that, I like someone who can be submissive towards me. I find them to be cute and it makes me wanna playfully bully them more for being so adorable :") ( Will spoil them to bits after ). I may be short but I don't enjoy being the little spoon/submissive partner. I hate being forced into that position too, just because I'm short and that I look "cute".

I also hate people who are ignorant, neglectful, and quick to jump into conclusions about another person. I don't like someone who isn't willing to understand me and communicate with me either. Other than that, I don't like bright lights, fish, open areas ( no walls, no closed windows, no doors, etc. ), And loud noises.

Note(s): Let's get these match-ups started! I have to say that you sent a lot of text to me, but I don't mind it at all! I actually have to say that I know this one guy who's around the same height as you, and he's really cute. I hope you enjoy your match~

I match you up with…

Rengoku Kyojuro!

» I think this matchup was going to be pretty reasonable due to your personality and your love language! As we all know, Kyojuro's a big sap as well when it comes to showing off his love, so he loves (no pun intended) to cuddle with you, kiss you, wash you, etc.

» As long as he gets to touch you and you touch him in return, he's happy to be with you. I'd say the only negative part about your relationship with Kyojuro is the fact that you tend to be impulsive with your money from time to time. The reason why I say this is because I think that Kyojuro happens to be like that as well.

» However, you two can definitely work around that problem and find ways to keep your impulses low! Kyojuro also loves to play pretend with you, so you can surely get a boyfriend who acts submissively towards you. Of course, that's only going to be a facade of his, and he's going to pin you down for cuddles later on.

[mvltimagines]

Hello! May I ask for a Haikyuu matchup, please? Thank you so much in advance!

×××

I go by the name Prince and my pronouns are : He/They. I'm an INFP and a 4'10" Pisces.

I'm a total introvert who would not leave the house unless necessary, and I tend to avoid large crowds and people since I have social anxiety. I'm quite distant, cold and awkward when I first meet people but I get really weird ( ahem, shameless.) and outgoing once I warm up to someone. I'm a worrywart and prone to have pessimistic/intrusive thoughts. My humor is dark and inappropriate, and very sexual. Although, I'm panromantic asexual. My love language are physical affection ( back hugs, cuddles, face peppering, playing with your hands, hand holding, & arm over the shoulder. ), and cheesy/corny flirts. I'm also a psychology student, an artist, a cosplayer, and a creative makeup artist. I enjoy horror films and historical novels. I like playing pranks on others, listening to all kinds of music, and dancing. I dream to be a full-time cosplayer or a psychologist. I like to travel the world as well, take photos, and, of course, watch anime and read manga! I like hanging out in a dimly lit bedroom, watching movies, or at an abandoned area ( parking lot, building, etc. ) I enjoy solitude and the dark. Oh! I'm scared of butterflies and allergic to dust.

I tend to be impulsive at times ( mainly concerning money ), and I exhibit extreme mood swings. I'm very affectionate though, and always willing to lend a shoulder or an ear. I also care too much. Apart from that, I'm very sarcastic and a swearing sailor ( I cuss a lot with people I'm comfortable with. ) Playful, bad memory ( sometimes ), bad at picking up jokes most of the times, and has a tendency to suddenly disappear for a few weeks before returning like nothing happened. I need to recharge to be able to socialize again.

I'm a total sap and an affectionate person to the person I love. I'm the type to wake up every morning and message them, "Good morning, hun!" and I also check up on them if they're feeling well.

As weird as it is, I find people's reactions towards me playfully bullying them to be adorable. Like, if they're about to cry, flustered, embarrassed, pouty, and/or annoyed. It's just so cute for some reason. HAHA! I do spoil them after teasing them.

While I enjoy doing that to others, I don't like it done to me. I have a short temper that gets set off from the smallest of things and embarassment. I'm trying to work on it though.

I have two ideal dates.

One : Just casually lounging at either one's bedroom. The lights are dim, the windows are closed along with the curtains while we cuddle on the bed, binge watching movie series or an animated series. We'd have snacks and drinks as we stay up late till 3 AM. Maybe we'd take short, funny videos and post them on our stories. Turn up the music and have small dance party. Do each other's hair and makeup. Have a small fashion show. A sleepover date, to be precise.

Two : Going on an exploring date to an abandoned building or a forest. Just the two of us. No other people around. Taking photos or videos, or just hanging out as we have small talk. It'll be even better if it's a haunted area and we do it at night, scaring each other just for shits and giggles.

Hello! Thank you for sending this in! Sorry this took a while!

Based on Your Description, I ship you with:

Tendou Satori!

He would be such a good match for you!

Satori is excellent at matching energies, so I feel like it would be very difficult to get bored around him.

He took your asocial and timid front as a challenge.

You don’t want to go to that party? Cool. he’ll be over in 5 with snacks and a sleeping bag for himself.

Don’t underestimate the lengths this man will go to in order to hang out with you. You want effort in a relationship? He’s bringing all he has to the table.

When you both start being more comfortable with one another, he’s over at your place 24/7.

It practically made sense for you both to start dating at that point.

When he first asked you on a date, he didn’t necessarily have anything in mind, honestly.

Reincarnation of that one plankton meme. “I don’t know?? I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

Most dates are inside, but he does like adventures with you, going wherever the fuck the moment takes you both.

Likes taking you to quiet places in town late at night to just talk and hold you in his lap underneath a tree as the cool night breeze gently blows against your skins.

“Off topic, but you look quite handsome in this lighting~ I could kiss you right now if you’d let me.”

Your lap is his pillow. Prone to a lot of naps during dates.

The way he looks at you. UGH.

He wears that lovestruck, sleepy look too well. Especially when he’s cuddled up beside you, peppering kisses on your knuckles and cheek.

Sleepovers galore.

Your Snapchat memories are FULL of short videos of him doing stupid shit at 3 in the morning and of him taking your phone and spamming pictures of himself while you’re asleep.

Satori becomes a different fucking breed after the clock strikes twelve. Gremlin man.

He’ll either be extremely clingy, wrapping his arms around you and laying on your chest to dancing around to Rick Astley with a pillow case on his head.

Your makeup absolutely stuns him to no end. You make it look so easy.

He once snuck into your makeup bag to just try and do a small scar over his eye and he was at the mirror for hours trying to get the damned line straight and to make it look realistic but he couldn’t for the life of him figure it out.

You walked in on him in the bathroom, hearing his little yelp of surprise, a brush and eyeshadow palette in his grasp.

“…Heyyyy… See something you like~? Pretty intimidating, huh? It’s nothing, really~” “ah, yes. I’m practically fighting the urge to get on my knees as we speak.”

You never let him live it down

Ever since then, though, you started using your boyfriend as a free canvas, which he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

You give him battle scars, horror movie inspired looks, contacts, all of it. He loves every second of it. There’s a sense of intimacy with having your partner do your makeup for you, though he can’t really explain it.

Make him take your cosplay photos for you!

He knows the areas with the best lighting and that fit with the character, since you both binge all the shows and movies you cosplay from.

Gets all the best angles.

Satori gives the best PDA during dates.

He’ll gently put his arm on your back to lead you out of crowds, wrap his arm around your shoulder during hangouts with Wakatoshi, and don’t forget the constant. Hand holding.

You’re additionally his therapist, a bit.

He’ll obviously be there to lend an ear if you need him, but you being a psychology major helps a lot with his constant intrusive thoughts and burdens surrounding his past.

He copes a lot with humor, so it startles him whenever you see through it. He’s thankful, but like, damn.

Will tell you randomly how much he really adores you.

Like, he’ll be cuddling you with his arm wrapped around your waist, showing you a funny video, and suddenly he gets all sappy, peppering kisses on your jawline and cheeks.

“You have no idea how absolutely gorgeous I think you are. Honestly. I don’t think you’d have those silly thoughts ever again if you could see yourself the way I do.”

Overall, he has a lot of fun with you, and he loves your witty attitude. You’re his other half, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[piquuse]

[Mysterious Risotto]

confusion was clear on dear queen's features, frowned brows staring down at very haunting mass of what he barely could tell it was risotto ... maybe. he was starting to doubt his own sight on the matter --wait, was that a fluorescent mushroom ?! " uh. when did this appear on the table. "

let's get hootin'!

          "...I think one of the Savanaclaw students forgot it here? That really tall guy over there, with the blond tail." Deuce's befuddled gesture eventually lands on one of the students who had ran up to join the rest of the crowd on the dance floor. "Oh wow, um, I didn't know Professor Amos could dance like that." He didn't think people's joints could bend like that either without breaking a bone. Yikes.

In the end, however, Deuce's curiosity gets the better of him and he leans in to inspect the rather peculiar-looking dish. It's barely been touched; a sign that there were in fact students attending the university with some of their survival instinct intact, even if it's been somewhat impaired. The smart idea would likely have been to avoid the dish altogether—but then again, Deuce had never claimed to be the sharpest spade in the shed.

And he's just so terribly, terribly curious about what such a bizarre-looking food would taste like... The mushrooms themselves don't look too peculiar (he thinks, at least) and as he continues to gaze at the food he can't help but feel...compelled, so to speak. Compelled to try a bite of it, just a one little nibble.

After all, he thinks, perhaps a bit naively, it was just a purple risotto, right? So against what would have been the better judgement, Deuce ferries a spoonful of risotto into his mouth...only to be surprised by the rich, savory flavor that almost seems to explode onto his tongue.

Shocked didn't even being to cover the spectrum of emotions that held Deuce in an affectionate chokehold. If he were a more erudite type, he had a feeling that even if he had run the gamut of appropriate synonyms to describe how he felt with that one bite, it wouldn't have mattered. Words weren't enough to convey how much he enjoyed this oddly colored risotto, so he would simply have to show it instead!

Newly resolved, he straightens abruptly and turns to face the Pomefiore senior with fervor in those sharp teal eyes, earnest intent lining his frame. "Schoenheit—!!" He begins, but as he opens his mouth to speak a fuzzy sort of darkness peppers his vision; his jaw goes slack in silenced surprise, and suddenly he is no longer at Night Raven University's First Annual Hootenanny.

Instead, he is standing in the living area of a modest little townhouse. It's neatly furnished, if clearly lived-in, and familiar. The architectural style of the interior design is something he would have described as being 'carefree and whimsical', in a way that should not but somehow clearly does manage to function properly. It's a familiar aesthetic, because it is the same sort of common style that was found in the Heartslabyul dorm.

Breathing in introduces the scent of roses to him, sweet in a way that only dried blooms achieved best. From behind him, somewhere outside the house, he can hear the sounds of a party, muted by the walls. From a different part of the house, however, Deuce can hear a woman's voice humming gently to a song that only she could hear. And just like the furniture, just like the roses, that too is familiar.

Warmth creeps into his chest like a vice, and he turns down the hall that he knows will lead into the kitchen, because he knows this house like how he knows who that voice belongs to.

          "Hey Mom, need any help?" Deuce asks, before pressing a kiss to her cheek the way he has done since he was a child. She's shorter than he remembers her being, the last time he saw her, but he abandons the thought as quickly as it comes. She laughs, but says yes.

          "It's just the cake that's left to bring out, but sure, you can carry it out for me." His mom explains, gesturing a hand towards the simple two-tiered cake that she had just placed onto the carrying tray. "Maybe I should have agreed to let that baker friend of yours take care of the cake this year after all. Then I wouldn't have had to clean all those dishes."

          "I'll let him know next time, then." He says, before carefully picking up the cake. "Okay, I think I got it... Can you get that for me?" He asks, once they've reached the backdoor, though she's already pulling it open for him by the time he's finished speaking.

The party he had heard earlier turns out to have been located right in their own garden. It's a small gathering, because there simply is not a lot of open space in the Spade household. Not that Deuce had ever bothered to bring any guests home in his youth in the first place, he remembers.

He...can't quite make out any of their guests' faces, which is disturbing, but something in his gut tells him that he knows these people even if he can't quite place them, and Deuce has always found some value in trusting his gut. With that settled, he lets the matter go for the most part and makes the join the rest of the party, but his mother stops him before he gets through the doorway. When he turns to ask why, he finds that he can't speak.

          "I'm proud of you, Deuce." She says, her matching teal eyes soft with a mother's love. "You're not quite there yet, but I know that one day, you'll get to where you want to be. So don't give up. When that happens, then you can come and join the rest of us here." Her hand brushes against his cheek fondly, and it feels like a goodbye but less of a bye forever and more of a see you soon. All the same, he doesn't want to leave.

But when he blinks, he’s suddenly back at the table with the mysterious purple risotto, and Housewarden Schoenheit is looking at him with an expression that says that he's about to give up on trying to reach wherever it was that Deuce's head had flown off to.

It's...jarring, actually. Because Deuce doesn't even know where he went just then, and doesn't even know where to start with explaining what he just saw. Not that something like that would stop him from trying, of course. But, well...

(It's hard to explain something like that when Deuce starts crying as soon as he starts to speak, y'know?)

[tainted-wine]

Evil Demonic Music

Priest!Reader X Demon!Present Mic

Hizashi has a large and filling feast on every Halloween night. He’s been doing it since before you were born. Yet here you are crashing his party while smelling like fresh meat in a den of wolves. It’s entirely your fault for throwing off his groove.

Disclaimer: Reader is more reminiscent of an action priest in a gothic action movie or anime. There’s little to no accuracy here. Lightning will most likely strike me the next time I venture outside.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Christian Themes, Possession/Mind Control, Orgy, Public Sex, Sorta Corruption, Downer Ending

🎃👻🎃HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!🎃👻🎃

------------x------------

Yuuei Club Presents “Dance With The Devil” Halloween Event LIVE Music by Present Mic Costumes Encouraged // Doors Open at 8 p.m.

It looked innocent enough; a graphical poster on the door of a building surrounded by smaller businesses in the outlet. It masked itself well in the daytime with its plain exterior, devoid of any attractive decorations save for the club’s name that glowed in hypnotizing neon when night falls. All of its temptations were contained inside, dormant until it was filled with careless souls seeking unholy pleasures.

You didn’t hate them for it. The temptation to sin is strong. It’s how evil thrives, and the average person lacks the strength to resist. It’s your duty to protect all people, even the faithless, from evil’s many devices. 

Like this nightclub.

Party locations like these were an uncommon feeding ground, although now that you think about it, the muddled and vulnerable minds residing within should make for easy meals. The loud and nonsensical “music” and absolute lack of restraint that the people displayed was baffling, but your task is to guard souls, not convert and guide them back to Heaven’s path. One demon in particular, however, favored ‘party animals’ more than any other creature from the vile depths.

“Easy there! You glare at this place any harder and it might combust!”

To the average human, the monster that appears beside you is nothing more than a tall blonde man with an inviting smile, but he can’t hide himself from the blessed and perceptive. Beneath the guise of spice and incense, he reeks of smoke and brimstone.

Hizashi, as he called himself, will never fool you.

“Stay back,” spit nearly flies from how harshly you say the words. You know that he can’t harm you, not while you wear your cross around your neck and calmly hold thoughts of your Lord in your mind. Still, you warn the dangerous fiend to keep his distance.

He obeys and innocently raises his hands. “Hey hey, you know I’m not out to hurt you, and you’re not gonna pull anything with that crafty little weapon there, right?”

No, you weren’t going to take a stab at him with the blade hidden in your holy necklace. You tried it before, an attempt to drive it into his back when he wasn’t looking. His hand caught your wrist at a speed you couldn’t comprehend – you were certain that you didn’t blink, yet you didn’t even see him move at all. His friendly smile didn’t waver, not a hint of anger visible on his face.

“Careful, baby priest! Don’t mean to sound cocky, but I’m way out of your league.” The warning wasn’t in his words, but in the heat of Hell itself that briefly washed over you, a sensation so powerful and real that you feared you were being dragged down that very instant. But the unseen flames died off the second he released your hand, eyes flashing a bloody red before returning to their usual emerald hues.

That was the first and only time you tried to banish him.

“I don’t trust you, but I’m not stupid,” was your answer, making sure not to let your hatred and disgust cloud your mind. He might take hold of that.

It was a satisfactory response, going by his bright beam of a smile. So friendly and inviting.

Months had passed when you finally accepted that he was a demon who genuinely enjoyed living alongside humans. He never spoke ill of your fellow men and commended them for their many ways of enjoying their short lives. Most demons you’ve dealt with favor negative emotions. Fear, sorrow, anger… those cold and bitter feelings attracted hellbeasts like flies to honey. 

But this one? He fed on mortals that were as cheerful and carefree as him. All of this still wasn’t enough to convince you that he is truly gentle, however.

Hizashi stayed where he was, staring at his own promotional poster. The urge to leave was almost overwhelming, but you couldn’t let him know how much he unnerved you with just his presence alone. Instead, you shuffle awkwardly and try not to utter prayers of protection. Whether or not that will anger him is something you don’t want to find out.

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Are you pumped for the best night of the year? Man, Halloween never gets old for me, especially in this day and age. Everyone dancing while dressed like a bunch of monsters...it’s almost like I’m at home! Humans sure know how to party like tomorrow is The Cleansing.”

“Yes, and it’s shameful,” you humor him. “I have no interest in debauchery.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s called having a good time, babe. Put the tome down and loosen up every once in a while.”

Put down the tome?

Loosen up?

Babe?

How dare he make you even entertain the thought of abandoning your teachings. You just know he’s trying to rile you up, to make you lose control. You won’t let him have his way. “I have my good times in moderation, on days when I praise God with my brothers and sisters with a glass of wine. There is discipline in everything, even celebration. Heathens simply get drunk and lose themselves in the madness.”

The demon chuckled as he ran his fingers through long golden locks. Just the beautiful sheen of his hair could probably attract the greedy. “Yep. Times sure do change, don’t they?”

“They don’t just change, they’re desecrated. What was once a day to ward off evil spirits now does the exact opposite. They’re too busy with their consumerism, candy, haunted houses…”

“Oh yeah, those haunted attractions are wild. So many of my buddies gorge themselves there. Free fear for the taking, ya dig?”

Despicable.

“And you don’t?” You test him. He was a conversationalist; a few probing questions won’t bother him, surely.

He withdraws his phone, scrolling through the screen for something. “Come on, you know me by now, don’t you? That sour stuff isn’t for me.”

“Forgive me for still struggling to trust you.” Sarcasm felt too risky, actually. You won’t use it again.

“Heh, no offense taken! You priests know just how cruel we can be sometimes. Mortals learned from the best, after all.”

Your lips twitch. His curve into a more wicked grin.

Every single passerby can’t seem to resist giving you odd looks. You can feel the eyes behind you as people make their way around the shops. Your garb wasn’t that strange; they’re acting like they’ve never seen a person in a robe and wearing several divine artifacts before. They would too if they knew what Hizashi was, who has yet to garner a single look of suspicion.

Ridiculous, his casual getup is actually fooling them. Perhaps the silly villainous mustache wasn’t big enough to give him away.

“Ah, here it is!” You nearly jumped from his voice and how quickly he leaned in, a video playing on his phone. “Just tap on the screen to play it an-”

“I know how to use a phone,” You hiss, taking the device from his hand and shooting him a glance every few seconds in case he tried something. 

The video was chaos, an unsteady view of flashing lights and thumping heavy beats. Whoever held it was smack dab in the middle of an energetic crowd that sang and danced like barbaric animals. It was an orgy of overindulgence. Too much drinking with their comically shaped cups and bottles, too much lust in their crude excuse of a dance, and synthetic drums that dragged on for so damn long, even the beat sounded drunk. It’s not the first time you heard the horrid noise; it unfortunately appears to be popular among the masses. 

God help these poor souls.

“Last year’s party.” Hizashi’s words cut through your thoughts. “Pretty hype, huh? Nothing gets my listeners goin’ like a hard trap beat!”

Oh? So he’s fully admitting it now? “So you’re calling it what it is, are you? Trapping them with your satanic melodies?”

The confusion on his face was very convincing, but you knew better. “What? No, that’s what the music is called.” 

You couldn’t help but snort. “Please, demon. What do you think sounds more believable: A genre of music with such a simplistic and misleading name, or evil tunes that your kind uses to ensnare unassuming mortals that don’t know any better?”

“....um…”

“I thought so.” To think that he’d slip up so easily. He wasn’t as clever as he thought. “Tell me what happened to the people in this video. Are they alive? Or did you drain them until they were nothing more than lifeless husks?”

There was a snicker behind you. Both you and Hizashi turned around to see a young man holding his phone up with an amused smile, giving a little wave after being noticed. “Sorry,” he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I really like your costume, miss. Your acting is awesome, too.” With that, he put away his phone and whatever images he now has of you and continued on his merry way.

Impertinent juveniles.

“Anyway, they’re all fine,” Hizashi said, eyes returning to the door while tapping his feet to a beat you can’t hear. “I know how to feed without causing any serious harm. Even if I do go a little overboard, they’ll just brush it off as having too much to drink.”

“It doesn’t matter how good you are at controlling yourself. You’re an evil entity invading human minds.” It takes every bit of strength to not flinch when he looks at you. Again, there’s no anger – there’s never anger with him – and it makes you all the more uneasy. Maybe a being as ancient and influential as him doesn’t find a novice exorcisor like you worth getting angry or even annoyed over. “Your stench will remain on those people forever, attracting more of your kind to them unless someone like me finds and cleanses them.”

He shrugs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Come on, your boy is doing his best here. What do you want me to do? Starve?” He considers what he just said for a moment before laughing. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Look, I ain’t leaving the stage, little priest. I’m addicted. The noise, the energy, the way everyone just loses themselves in all of it.”

The way his tongue peeks out to swipe over his upper lip has every hair on your skin sticking up.

“Man, I wish they knew just how sweet their own essence is when they’re caught up in the lights and music. Sweeter than any candy the kids will be bringing home tonight.”

He compares consuming pieces of a soul to children’s treats. “You’re really not helping your case,” you remark.

Another shrug. “C’mon, you say that like I actually have a chance at winning with you! I won’t hurt anyone in there. You have my word.”

You scoffed. “A demon’s word is-”

“Worthless, I know. See what I mean?” He withdrew a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Welp, I think we’ve stood here and stared at the door long enough. I gotta prep for the big night. Thanks for the company!” A few more seconds pass when he finds the right key and opens the entrance to the club. 

You didn’t follow him inside. That would be careless.

Now it’s only you observing the building that will soon hold a giant living feast for the hungry monster. After another passing compliment about your “cool and authentic costume”, you figured you’ve stood around long enough. It was time to head home.

And find a way to keep everyone safe.

He was right; you have no way of getting rid of him yourself. That doesn’t mean you’ll stand by while knowing what danger these people will be walking into when night arrives. You’re not afraid to put your life on the line if it means protecting His children from the many evils on earth. When the first step of your plan takes root in your head, you change routes and make your way to the nearest costume shop.

Hizashi won’t be having his fill tonight.

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

8:30 p.m.

You weren’t expecting to encounter two demons tonight.

Well, perhaps that term isn’t appropriate. There is no sort of aura attached to the dark-haired man that you can trace back to the pits of Hell, but he is undoubtedly a creature of evil. One that was birthed from the shadows, living for eternity by lurking in darkness and drinking the blood of any unfortunate mortal that catches his eye.

“I knew it. I knew someone so close to Hizashi couldn’t be human.”

The vampire at the lively club’s entrance didn’t seem fazed by your accusation. He wasn’t even hiding himself. The sly bloodsucker knows that his crimson irises and enlarged fangs will be mistaken for prosthetics. Very convincing prosthetics.

“Nice to see you too,” he deadpans. 

You’re getting a little tired of these beasts brushing you off. “So what’s your feeding plan here? Waiting to find an innocent maiden who wishes to see the sinful wonders inside, then take her to the back and drain her dry?”

“Like you?” The smirk doesn’t reveal any teeth, but his predatory eyes are enough to make you step back and grip the cross that still hangs around your neck. Your reaction makes him chuckle darkly before he returns to his regular disinterested self. “I already ate.” That monster. “I’m here because Hizashi thought I’d make for good security.”

“So you intend to drink from anyone that steps out of line?”

“No.”

“Lies. Look here, vampire…”

“My name is Shouta.”

“...You and your friend won’t be preying on these naive humans for much longer. He told me about his trap music, but I won’t let his songs bewitch anyone tonight.”

He stared at you, one eyebrow quirked high up. “Alright...can you give me your hand already? There’s a line growing behind you.”

You look over your shoulder, and there is indeed a line of disgruntled people dressed as various monsters and characters. You have to admit that their costumes look to be of higher quality than the angel outfit you hastily bought in the store’s clearance section. The fuzzy headband for your halo was itchy and your flimsy wings were on the verge of falling off with every sudden movement.

With a glare that messaged him not to try anything, you cautiously extended your arm. He took your hand in his – deathly cold – and wrapped a thin paper tag around your wrist. “Have fun.” 

You always hate it when you can’t read their smiles.

The suffocating darkness around him was lifted when you made your way to the same doors you were looking at with so much contempt this morning. Glancing back, you saw others happily complimenting his ‘spooky’ appearance, to which he responded with either a quick thanks or a grunt. None of them seemed to notice his chilling aura or ice-cold touch.

Why must they be so blind to the evils that walk beside them everyday?

When you stepped in, the music nearly blasted you back outside. So loud, but not like the angelic choirs during gospel. You didn’t feel lifted, you just felt bombarded by pure noise. A repetitive tempo made the entire building pulse like a heartbeat. This didn’t sound like the music Hizashi supposedly used to put the crowd under a spell. It just repeated the same forsaken beat over and over again. Perhaps the repetition is meant to ease the victim’s mind and lure them in a false sense of security, then those long rolling beats will come in next, ensnaring them when their guard is down. Clever, but not clever enough.

You passed the lounge and bar area, paying no mind to the lecherous behavior around you. Boisterous laughs, alcohol being carelessly chugged…

“Hey there, angel.” A man dressed as a superhero nearly tripped over his own cape in his attempt to approach you. “You as innocent as you look? I can introduce you to the boUUUURP.” The sudden belch burned your poor eyes with the stinging smell of rum.

Lord have mercy on both you and these savages.

“No thank you,” you said through gritted teeth and brushed past him. The lights and colors are disorienting. Strobe lights, spotlights whizzing across the walls and floor, and vibrant ever-changing shapes on every surface. The intoxicated folk probably welcomed the flashing chaos. When you drink at the church, your sips stay modest and controlled, ensuring to never reach the stage of drunkenness. If you were feeling ‘buzzed’, as they would say, this musical and optical discourse would likely feel pleasant, like entering a world devoid of rules and consequences.

Also known as a world of sin.

A huge mass of bouncing bodies covered the dancefloor, and there on an elevated platform, acting as an advanced musical throne, was the evil orchestrator of the chaos.

And those long curved obsidian horns were most definitely real.

Even as he tampered with the many buttons and dials before him, Hizashi moved as wildly as his prey, too caught up in his own infernal electronic hymns to even notice your presence. Surely your chaste energy sticks out among these wrongdoers like a dove in a pit of serpents.

You need to activate your blessing before he eats. Good thing the vampire didn’t bother to inspect your costume for any natural evil repellents that you happened to be carrying.

Your self-made pockets were filled with sage and rosemary, common herbs used to drive away demons and spirits. You sprinkle them onto the floor as you continue to make your way to the center, where your power will work most efficiently.  Hopefully their scent will not be overpowered by the sweaty bodies and breaths laced with alcohol of all kinds.

Pushing through the dancing crowd was an arduous task. The music had since switched to something faster and more aggressive. The hectic sounds in this one was making you miss the boring but calmer tunes from before. You never considered what the sound of a robot vomiting would sound like, but it would probably sound similar to the cacophony of ‘whirs’ and ‘wubs’ that were assaulting your ears.

The mass was pushing and tossing you every which way. The variety of masks and makeup beneath the constant moving lights was rather frightening. Of course, you’ve dealt with plenty of real monsters, but it disturbed you to see your fellow man acting in such a frenzied matter in such a perplexing setting. You can see why Hizashi adored this environment. You couldn’t tell the difference between man and beast.

Straightening your halo, you decide that this spot will fare well enough.

Now it was time to apply holy water around your feet. Just a few drops of the blessed fluid will be enough to protect everyone here.

You close your eyes, ignore the many bodies bumping against you, and pray.

O Lord, protect me from temptation.

The water trickles out before you.

O Lord, forgive those who have been led astray.

“WOOOO SHIT! THIS IS MY JAM!”

The nearby exclamation makes your eyebrow twitch.

For we know that your power is greater than any evil.

The song is deafening, but you keep going.

Grant, O Lord, the protection fro-

Someone violently collides into you, knocking the bottle right out of your hands and rolling away to disappear behind the wall of stomping shoes.

Shit! Forgive my language, Father!

You elbow the fools blocking your way, ignoring the occasional “hey” or “watch it” during your desperate search for the most important tool against evil influences.

You didn’t even finish your prayer. You need to at least do that first, before it’s too late. Clapping your hands together, you shut your eyes again and moved your lips rapidly.

OLordprotectmefromtemptationOLordforgivetosewhohavebeenledastrayforweknowthatyourpowerisgreaterthanany-

“HERE COMES THE DROP!”

The rhythm and bass changed drastically, and with it came a powerful wave of raw exhilaration.

It’s like a force was injecting every positive chemical directly into your bloodstream. The abundance of newfound energy needed to be released, just like the tension that was released from that beat drop.

Your hips are swaying in a way you’ve never moved them before, and you can’t make them stop.

Stop! Stop, please! This is his doing!

“How are my listeners doin’ tonight?!”

The demon’s voice booms through the speakers, seeping into your ears and filling you with so much excitement that you can’t help but cheer with everyone else. Your senses feel simultaneously enhanced and dulled. The humans around you were out of focus, but the diabolical DJ up ahead was so clear, it’s like you were right in front of him. The hunger in his currently red eyes struck fear in you even as you danced.

“Woo, I’m lovin’ this energy! Thanks for coming by this Halloween, ya little monsters! Now...bring this house down!”

Your heart accelerates from the rush and you begin to jump in sync with the possessed crowd. Even the people standing by or sitting at the bars couldn’t resist, joining the growing horde on the dancefloor to jump in unison. 

It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Not a care in the world. No customs, no praise. It didn’t give you that warm feeling of ascension. Instead you just felt...liberated.

No!

Struggling in the demon’s grip, you cleared your thoughts just enough to try to calm yourself and regain control.

Utter a prayer. Hurry. Focus. You need His protection.

‘Baby priest? Is that you?’

That is not the mighty entity you wanted to hear. The voice echoes in your head, impossible to escape. When your eyes open, you see that above the vast sea of faces, Hizashi is staring right at you. 

‘I thought the dancefloor smelled a little weird! I was so busy feelin’ the beat that I almost missed you!’  You watched him laugh as he continued to violate your mind. Damn him. Wasn’t possessing you cruel enough? ‘Please, no prayers when I’m about to dig in. That’s gonna leave a bad taste in my mouth. Just keep groovin’ like everyone else!”

Your limbs obeyed without your consent and followed the rhythm. This didn’t even sound like the music you heard in the video. Were you just foolish in thinking that he only used one specific sound to trap his victims?

With another change in the bassline, a heavier weight invaded, reaching right into the depths of your heart and tugging at your very soul. You know that fear will only make you more defenseless, but there was no fighting the terror that overtook you.

Not when a demon was feeding from you.

Your brain clashed with itself. You had to keep fighting, even as he stole a fragment of what your gracious Heavenly Father had gifted you and every human, but the cheerful voices implanted in your mind begged you to stop worrying and just give in already.

There was no stopping your movements or the unending rush that surged as strongly as the music. Only now, as he completely ignored your holy safety measures and tainted your soul as easily as the oblivious heathens surrounding you, did you fully understand just how great the differences in power between him and you were.

‘Whoa...holy shit.’

The breathless moan in your head made you shudder. 

‘I haven’t tasted a human as pure as you in ages.’ 

“Please! You’ve already fed from me!” You scream out loud as the mob revels in the thrilling sensation of having a part of them sucked away. Your voice is drowned out by the music and shouts, yet you know that the horrid fiend can hear you loud and clear. “Just get out of my head!”

The dancing stops.

The music stops.

Everything stops.

It’s relieving to finally let your body rest from the forced celebration. The lights still flash and move in the dead silence. Every single person in all of their costumed glory turns and pins you with a sharp glare. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed over, consciousness elsewhere. Hizashi was in full control of all of them.

The demon himself looked down at you, no longer wearing his usual friendly and carefree smile. He was now showing the more twisted happiness you were used to seeing on his kind.

Crazed and eager to devour.

He spoke into the microphone on his headset, voice low and eerily calm. “Angel, you can’t just give me a sample of a five-star meal and expect me to not want more.”

The dread threatens to make you faint.

“Hey, none of that!” He laughs and switches back to his cheery tone. “I told you the negative emotions aren’t for me. I mean, a lady as sweet as you is gonna taste delicious either way. Why don’t you come on up here?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to flee from this entire situation that you foolishly believed you were ready for. You thought you could sneak into this age-old creature’s gathering and force him to go hungry for the night.

Cockiness treads horribly close to pride, and pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

You clearly didn’t have a say in the matter, what with your feet moving forward on their own. Every individual in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path from you to Hizashi’s platform. Their eyes never left, heads slowly turning as they watched you slowly climb the steps with legs that trembled from your resistance.

As he stood tall clad in leather behind the large mixer table, you noticed along with his sturdy horns, he also sported a black pointed tail that lazily swayed behind him. And his stench...the foul smell that would often make you crinkle your nose was replaced with a pleasing fragrance, like a sweet and fruity beverage. It was undoubtedly the work of his spell; everything about him has suddenly become tempting.

At this point you were wishing for the music to return so that you couldn’t hear your thunderous heartbeat as you stopped right in front of him. His hellish eyes observed you from head to toe, holding his chin between his fingers before shaking his head and smirking.

“Ya really couldn’t find a better costume?” He snickered as he got closer and fiddled with your cheaply-made gown. You avoided looking directly into his eyes, afraid of falling into the blood-red depths and never finding your way back out.  “Or do you priests work on a budget?” He pauses when he notices the contents in your pockets. “Oh?” A hand is shoved inside and pulls out a handful of herbs.

“Aww gross! Sneakin’ herbs into the joint?” He winces from the smell before tossing them aside, leaving them to scatter into the unmoving group below.

How? His reaction should have been much stronger…

“Not that this stuff really works when I’m vibin’ in my element, but I’m hurt! I thought we had some trust!” He pinches your cheek, knowing that you’re unable to pull away. “And I thought you knew that I was way out of your league. You’re gonna need the big guns if you plan on keeping me away from my food.” The breath blowing into your face is abnormally hot.

There’s a layer of something otherworldly hidden in his tone whenever he emphasizes his words, like a filter poorly attempting to cover up a monster’s true guttural voice. 

But once again, he switches back to normal, which does nothing to calm you. “But I’m not gonna get mad at some rookie that doesn’t know better, especially one as tasty as you!” Twirling around, he pushes a few buttons on the table that you didn’t even know where to begin to figure out. 

“Sorry about the interruption, listeners!” He says to the crowd, cruelly acting like they have any ability to respond. They continue to stare blankly. “I hope you don’t mind if I switch things up a bit. Your boy is gonna be a little preoccupied during the next few tracks.”

The deafening silence is lifted with the start of a new song, and the people suddenly spring back to life, completely unaware of the mindless state they were in. Their only goal was to keep partying.

Your body was moving again as well, this time bobbing gently to the double and triple beats and low frequencies that vibrate through the floor and up your spine.

This...this was the type of melody you feared, and yet it didn’t affect you any more than the other songs. All of them were traps.

The only way you can think of fighting back is by filling your head with songs of praise. Keep your Lord in your thoughts. He will protect you.

“Tsk...angel, that stuff doesn’t work when I, ya know, already ate a piece of you.” His face tightened from hearing just a few seconds of the holy song in your head. “I told you, ya gotta loosen up a bit. You’re already dancing better than I thought you would!”

He paid no attention to his other prey, instead admiring your simple but energetic movements.

Then he began to move as well, shoulders doing a slow shimmy and following each of your steps with his own, moving closer and closer until he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you in.

He’s warm. Not burning or emitting an aura of terrifying darkness. The music suddenly feels softer, easing your fears. Like an intimate embrace. 

“There, it’s not so bad, is it?” He says lowly, lips almost touching your face. “Quit thinking about your big daddy for once.”

You want to protest against the disrespectful nickname for your God, but he predicts your reaction and tightens his hold on your spirit.

“You taste so damn incredible right now, don’t mess it up,” he groans and savors you. With every part of you that is consumed, it becomes harder to resist. It would be so easy to just hold onto him and keep swaying like this, rocking back and forth as his hips press against yours, grinding into you.

The unfamiliar sensation startles you, but Hizashi shuts down your panic with a growl. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten.” he murmurs into your shoulder, breathing deeply to take in your scent. “I’ve been so hooked on the party life that I forgot just how heavenly innocents like you taste. To think that I’d have an actual priest dancing with me, tasting that revelry from such a pure source...pardon my blasphemy, but goddamn.”

You’re swimming through the fiery haze clouding your mind, clawing against it in a desperate search for an opening. But with every beat, the haze thickens and you sink further in.

You couldn’t find the light. No salvation.

More sinful feelings assault you from the friction of his groin against yours, a growing bulge rubbing on your most sacred area. It sends a foreign tingle down there.

“Ooooh, don’t think I can’t feel that, baby” he rasps, holding you so closely in a dance fitting for two lovers. “I can sense everything now that you’ve let me in.”

That angers you enough to find your voice again, just barely. “I didn’t let you in...” You tense from another hard grind. “Foul...beast.”

“Are you sure? You’re giving in pretty easily. It’s nothin’ to feel bad about, I promise. Humans aren’t built to resist life’s basic needs, so I don’t know why the big man in the clouds gets so wound up about it all the time.” 

How dare he.

“Damned snake!” You force your hands to beat against him and push him off. “You will not corrupt me with the Devil’s words!”

He’s actually shocked for a moment, even to your own surprise, but he laughs it off. “Geez, my bad! I guess you are pretty persistent. Must be…” He grabs the cross around your neck, ignoring your horrified gasp. “...this.”

With a sharp yank and a pinch at the back of your neck, your one remaining object of holy protection is removed.

And with its loss, his influence completely overpowers you. The clearness of your senses switches on and off.

The music is muffled. It’s too loud.

The roaming lights are blurry. Too bright.

Are you still moving? Or is your body too heavy?

“It stings a bit, but that little thing can’t do much when the wearer’s already under my control.” An unfocused image of the demon tossing your precious necklace over his shoulder, the necklace you’ve held close to you since the day you first stepped into the cathedral and accepted your role as a righteous defender of man.

Your essence is now being stolen so quickly that it makes you shiver. He shouldn’t be taking this much.

“Mmm, I can’t get enough of this,” Teeth that are too sharp brush against your neck, threatening to pierce your skin. “I’m an old guy, ya know. I’ve done a lot of experimenting over the centuries, to see what I’m into.”

There’s a rip, and your gown is being pulled down along with your wings. It only relieves you from the growing heat of your surroundings.

“Y’see, our daddy isn’t a helicopter parent. He brings us into the world and just...lets us decide what to do. So no, my words ain’t the Devil’s words. They’re just mine, honey. I live for myself.”

Tilting your head, he presses his lips against your throat, making your breath hitch. No, your body is sacred. Don’t let him do this to you.

You don’t even know when the music had changed, but you’ve noticed the club was filled with a synthetic ambiance, the colors switching to magenta and cyan. 

The party demon is so captivated by you that he doesn’t even acknowledge the change in tune. “I used to stalk the depressed. Wasn’t worth it, they were too bland.” He peppers kisses down to your collarbone. “I tormented scared paranoid folk. Fun, but it loses its flavor fast.”

Your bra is removed to expose your breasts to him and the entire populace within the building. Your heart races, but the synths don’t stop seeping into your ears, the bliss wrestling with your fear. 

“Shh, don’t freak out. I’ll make sure everyone forgets everything that happened tonight.” He attempts to reassure you while massaging your newly revealed mounds. “So time went on as I treated my palate to different tastes. Wasn’t long before I realized my favorite vibes were the good ones. Festivals, games, a few buddies hangin’ out,” he lowered himself and flicked your nipple with his tongue. “Or a couple fucking, I ate all of it up. And after a while I decided that I just liked people in general.”

The pleasure felt when your breast is engulfed by the heat of his mouth is shameful. Hizashi moaned at your taste, though you weren’t sure if it was the taste of your flesh or your lust that was exciting him.

“I liked it when humans were having good times, so I figured out how to join in on the fun and damn, how do you guys keep finding new ways to rock out? The prudes keep droning on about how my favorite type of people have lost their way, but I think they’re the ones who found paradise, and they’re not even dead yet!” After nursing on both of your breasts, he rises and grabs your face to turn it toward the crowd. “I mean, just look at how these guys – oh.”

‘Oh’ indeed.

The people were no longer dancing. They were grabbing at each other, at men and women they probably didn’t even know, tearing apart clothes in a vicious urge to fornicate right there on the dancefloor. Some of them were already completely nude. You avert your eyes to stare at your feet instead.

Hizashi cleared his throat. “Whoops. Look what ya made me do, angel. My lust got the best of me!” He held you close while watching the horrid act before him. You’re trying to move your heavy arms to cover your bare body. “No wonder I’m feeling so horny. Think I should make them stop?”

It takes effort to nod your head.

His lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout before going, “Nah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an orgy. I bet this is a first for you.”

Something tickles your hips, your eyes wandering over to see the arrow-like point of his tail curling around your white panties, tugging them down.

Part of you already knows that Hizashi is allowing you to struggle for his own amusement. With all of your protection gone, he can easily stop you from swatting at the flexible limb as it brings your final article of clothing down to your ankles.

Wearing nothing but the small strap around your wrist, you want so badly to curl up and hide yourself. You were completely bare on a stage with a demon quietly taking in your form. The contrasting feelings of anxiety and calm threaten to tear your psyche in half.

“Given how anal you guys are about chastity, I think it’s safe to say no one’s ever touched you before?” The way you tense tells him enough. “Alright alright, relax. I’m gonna make this easy for you.”

‘How? By letting me leave?’ You want to say, but your vocal chords aren’t cooperating.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Well, no. I told ya I know everything goin’ on in that head.” He grabs you by the shoulders and places you right in front of his mixer.

There were many suggestive sounds amongst the pile of writhing bodies before you. It was the most depraved sight that you’ve ever witnessed. These people may have been sinners for their immoral pursuits, but they were still victims of a wicked creature’s influence. You wish you could apologize to all of them for failing to protect them.

Slender fingers massaged your shoulders. “Ain’t it beautiful?” He whispers hotly into your ear. “I’m not that crazy about lust, but I can’t resist when it’s coming from someone like you.”

His aura has you shackled on the spot, unable to move or even tear your eyes away from all of the sex. His voice meshes with the increasingly sensual tunes, both him and the music putting you in a deep trance that leaves every nerve in your body extra sensitive.

You’re gently pushed to lean forward until your hands are supporting yourself on the table. The leather of his clothes pressed against your back is irritating, but easily overshadowed by the hands trailing down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“One of my favorite hobbies was hunting down faithful maidens like you. All demons love doing it, really. You can’t top raw innocence, it’s always a delicacy. It’s the closest most of us will ever get to fucking an actual angel. I managed to fuck an angel, and lemme tell ya, it’s a once in an eternity experience.”

He reaches your mound. There is still fear and an urge to pray, though it’s drowned out by the electronic harmony and all of the hot sex.

“Now she’s a fallen one that hangs out with me. Pretty little devil’s obsessed with sex now. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll give you a visit in your sleep at midnight.”

His fingers reach your untouched folds, making you gasp. You’ve never felt so much lubrication down there before. Was that normal?

“I was really good at the whole corruption thing, so good that I caught the attention of the big holy boys. They were toughies, gotta hand it to 'em. I decided to lay low after that little showdown. That was all a preeetty long time ago.”

The demon’s voice is background noise as you watch deplorable acts that you didn’t even know existed. One woman was taking a cock into her mouth while another man pounded into her from behind. A new male approached and grabbed her free hand, wrapping her fingers around him and encouraging her to stroke him.

Three men pleasuring themselves with the same woman. They were probably complete strangers.

The repulsive sight makes you wetter.

They sure were having fun.

Hizashi hums at your arousal, sinking a digit into your folds. 

“Ah,” you choke on your own voice. His other hand plays with your breast again while you’re being penetrated for the first time. Some sort of flame was growing within you, burning and pleasing at the same time.

“I thought I’ve found my place. Going place to place and bringing in crowds who just want to forget their troubles for a day and groove.”

The finger pushes through your tightly clenched walls, or at least they try to.

“Fuck, relax a bit, babe,” he groans.

You do exactly that, giving him enough leeway to push in and out at a steady pace. You don’t think about the violation, only the strange friction that has no right to feel as good as it does. 

“And then you come along,” An unexpected sharp thrust causes his finger to brush against a spot that fills your vision with even more blinding lights. “It’s not like I was after you or anything. You’re a solid negative ten on the threat scale, but ya just wouldn’t leave me alone!” He relentlessly hits the spot again, and again, until you’re crying out and your legs are shaking. “Then you waltz in here and try to ruin my favorite night of the year?

He’s able to hide his anger as he speaks, but fails to keep it from entering his possessed victims. The orgy becomes more violent, all of the people looking no more civil than savages in torn rags as they try to dominate and fuck each other senseless.

It affects you as well, going by how annoyed you’re getting by his rambling. Can’t he just focus on pleasing you?

His finger leaves you too soon, your cunt already missing the brand new sensations. “Sorry, babe,” he says when he releases you and begins to undo his pants. “Normally I’d spend more time warming up, but I gotta join in on the raunchiness now before I go nuts. Just...do me a favor.”

You whined, wiggling your hips and rubbing your ass against his freed cock. He only chuckles at your impatience.

“Slow your roll, I’ll get started as soon as you push that button riiiight there.”

You push one of the many glowing buttons, and stock phrases are shouted out of the speakers.

“No, the one next to it.”

You press it, and another song begins.

Hizashi hums in approval. “I usually do a smooth transition between songs, but…”

A hard impact knocks you forward with the overwhelming feeling of being completely filled all at once. The stretch and pressure has your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“....Yeah, I just wanted to do that. And-” He yanks the halo off your head and drops it at your feet. “-I always loved the symbolism in that.”

He wastes no time building up. You’re being pounded as hard and consistently as the energetic beat. It should hurt, but the euphoric state of your mind dulls any pain and discomfort. 

With the demon inside both your head and your womanhood, there was no saving yourself. Your prayers wouldn’t even be heard through this thick depraved fog.

“Oh fuck yeah,” He growls loudly with his wild thrusts, hands gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise. “I’ve been missing out. So hooked on the party life that I don’t even remember how it feels to eat up a modest little soul like this.”

Was he still devouring you? You can’t even tell, not while you’re trapped in this melodic dreamworld as his cock rams you.

“Ya mind if we do this again sometime?” He angled himself to ensure he was hitting that sweet spot with each rhythmic pump. Despite his aggression, his hips moved with musical purpose. “Not like you’re much of a priest anymore. You’re fuckin’ a demon, sweetheart. I think the pearly gates have closed for you.”

That sounds sad and all, but God does he feel good. The entire moment was feeling like a hallucination. Your world was saturated with fuzzy images and muffled bass as your virgin pussy was ravaged. The tightened heat in your core was growing hotter by the second.

Hizashi just wouldn’t stop talking even as he became short of breath. “Ah, don’t worry, my doors are always open to misfits!” His rhythm falters a bit when you give him an especially tight squeeze. “Ya like that? I can always wipe your memory of tonight along with everyone else’s, and you can head back home. I just don’t think your next visit to the house of God is gonna end well.”

How does he expect you to care with the way he’s plowing into you?

His arms wrap around you in an embrace. “No pressure, angel. You can decide later. For now, just enjoy the show.”

And finally, he shut up and focused on fucking your divine lights out.

With his pelvis flush against your ass, Hizashi humps with newfound vigor, his thrusts rapid yet precise enough to keep stimulating your most sensitive areas.

The blinding stars in your eyes make it impossible to even make out what’s happening in front of you. A shame, because you want to know if you’re being dicked down as good and hard as the whores on the dancefloor.

The demon may not be talking anymore, but he was still being very vocal about his pleasure with feral moans and growls right into your ear. 

An extra hard slam forces you to nearly topple onto the controls, hands scrambling to keep you upright and hitting several buttons in the process. 

A series of sounds and distortion effects are added to the song.

It unexpectedly riles him up. “Shit, that wasn’t a bad mix, angel. I might have a junior DJ in the making,” he praises.

The tempo changes - different speed and new layers - and Hizashi follows suit by switching his quick bucks into deep thrusts.

The fire inside was close to doing...something. You weren’t sure what it was or what exactly will happen if this lasts any longer, but part of you knows that it’s about to feel very good.

With the head of his dick striking you nice and deep, you quickly learn that you were right.

The explosion of spasms was too pleasurable to even comprehend, each contraction tearing filthy screams from your throat. Hizashi bursts soon afterwards and fills you up with a cry even more lewd than yours.

Just like that, your mind is freed and the weight of his aura is lifted...and you feel gravely tired.

A coldness sweeps over you and saps every ounce of your strength. You find yourself dropping to your knees and falling over as a distant voice expresses genuine worry.

“Oh.......I overfed.” Though it doesn’t sound as panicked as it should.

You don’t want to close your eyes. You fear that something terrible might happen if you do, but your eyelids are quickly becoming too heavy to fight.

“Really sorry, little priest! I didn’t mean to! Look at the bright side - my friends are gonna love ya down there! Home isn’t half as bad as those books make it out to be!”

Each word sounds fainter than the last, but you still catch each one.

Home?

Your eyes shut. 

And the remains of your soul become stained with ash and black before heading downwards into the demonic realm.

Welcome home.

[blackjack-15]

Two Can Keep a Secret (if the Family Tree is Dead) — Thoughts on: Ghost of Thornton Hall (GTH)

Previous Metas: SCK/SCK2, STFD, MHM, TRT, FIN, SSH, DOG, CAR, DDI, SHA, CUR, CLK, TRN, DAN, CRE, ICE, CRY, VEN, HAU, RAN, WAC, TOT, SAW, CAP, ASH, TMB, DED

Hello and welcome to a Nancy Drew meta series! 30 metas, 30 Nancy Drew Games that I’m comfortable with doing meta about. Hot takes, cold takes, and just Takes will abound, but one thing’s for sure: they’ll all be longer than I mean them to be.

Each meta will have different distinct sections: an Introduction, an exploration of the Title, an explanation of the Mystery, a run-through of the Suspects. Then, I’ll tackle some of my favorite and least favorite things about the game, and finish it off with ideas on how to improve it.

If any game requires an extra section or two, they’ll be listed in the paragraph above, along with my list of previous metas.

These metas are not spoiler free, though I’ll list any games/media that they might spoil here: GTH; SPY; mention of ASH (and the ASH meta); mention of Nik/HER’s spoilery hints about GTH.

 NOTE: THIS META CONTAINS DISCUSSION OF AND REFERENCE TO SEXUAL ASSAULT. MORE DETAILED SECTIONS ARE MARKED, BUT THIS WARNING STANDS FOR THE WHOLE META.

 The Intro:

It’s time to get our Spooky on, lads. And we’re gonna do it in a meta of truly staggering length, so maybe go to the bathroom and get a snack before you start. My apologies.

Due to the (to be quite frank) absence of nostalgia surrounding them, there’s not really many games that are post 2010 that the fandom tends to agree on, but Ghost of Thornton Hall happens to be a standout in that pretty much everyone has found something to like about it. It often tops the charts of “best newer game” polls, and puts in a valiant effort against the more nostalgic mainstays.

There are a lot of reasons for this, in my mind – the quality of the writing, the choices that Nancy can make that actually affect the outcome of the game and especially affect Nancy, the fabulous voice work, the purposely-unanswered questions that give a deeper sense of horror — but if you ask me, the love for GTH really boils down to one thing:

Atmosphere.

Nancy Drew game fans (and I’m including myself in this) tend to prioritize atmosphere in the games, probably because without good and proper atmosphere it’s easier to pick apart the formula as you’re playing and to avoid being immersed in the game’s story, and GTH has it thick on the ground (figuratively and literally). The fear, unease, and overall sense of being an Intruder in this story comes from the overwhelming atmosphere provided by the grief of the characters, the time-sensitive nature of the crime, the secrets of the house and family, and, of course, the rather stellar visuals and locations.

The Thornton’s house and grounds really feel alive, but dead — in fact, they almost feel alive in the way that a zombie is, where they function and feed but have no heart. The gloriously (and meticulously) decorated walls are cast in shadow and grime; the portraits feel ominous and disapproving rather than lifelike and nostalgic; even the graveyard, as spread out and opulent as it is, feels claustrophobic and unwelcoming.

In a word, the game is – visually, thematically, story-wise, and atmospherically — haunting. And I think that overwhelming feeling of being haunted is, in large part, what draws fans back to this game again and again.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the scariest parts of this game are the things that you, as the player, do not see. Sure, the apparitions of Charlotte, the ghostly figures, the appearance of Harper — these are all scary, but the fear is gone after a moment, leaving the player unsettled but not running to hide under a blanket. The deaths of the fifty-four souls, the secret behind Clara’s birth, Harper’s breakdown — all these things that you don’t see, that you can only hear about or have hinted at are where the fear of the game kicks in, especially for older players.

It’s no secret that, despite the games being labeled for ages 10 and up, that the actual age of the Nancy Drew games fandom hasn’t been around 10 for some time — most people playing these games are in their 20s or 30s, or have siblings who are in their 20s and 30s and got into the games through them. Sure, there are some outliers, but the Clue Crew is much closer in general to the ages of the River Heights crew than they are to the age that that box says.

Because of this, the writers (and I’m going to especially hat-tip Nik here) behind the games have been able to slowly graduate the topics of the games to be a little bit older, hiding the true horror behind things that younger kids just won’t think about. This is especially the case with GTH and SPY, but you see it in a lot of the newer games, where the implications of events are normally scarier than the events themselves.

GTH takes that and runs with it, choosing to hint at and dance around truly upsetting — for any age — topics, presenting a mystery and a story that only get scarier once you’ve finished staring at the screen. The characters’ emotional problems and issues — loss, abandonment, anxiety, guilt — are like this too; while they’re present in the game itself, when you take a step back after finishing the game you realize just how badly scarred everyone is in the story.

Because answers were purposely left vague in order to 1) make the player work for it and 2) keep the 10+ rating, pretty much everyone who plays GTH has a slightly different opinion on what went down at Charlotte’s party, who the Thorntons really are, the circumstances of Clara’s birth, why the children of a female Thornton take their mother’s name — you name it, and there’s around 10 distinct opinions on it, and many more offshoots of those opinions besides.

I’m going to talk a little bit here about a couple of the “biggies”, since I don’t want it cluttering up the Suspect portion of this meta, so bear with me. I’m not so much interested in “this is the Correct answer” as much as just presenting the information from the game and wondering about its conclusions…but I (like everyone else) have my little pet theories, so what follows will be a little bit of reporting, a little bit of inference, and a little bit of supposition.

What follows is a frank discussion of topics such as rape and incest as they apply to GTH. If this is something you’d rather not consume, skip down to the next bolded line.

The most talked-about question left hanging in the game is, of course, who Clara’s father was. I think this question is best addressed from a two-pronged approach, however, because to figure out who Clara’s father could have been is a question that requires another question to be answered: why would Clara’s mother not tell her, even on her deathbed.

The most popular — and horrifying — answer to this is that Clara’s father is Jackson, and that she was a product of rape and incest. Now, just looking at the timeline, this theory adds up; Rosalie (Clara’s mum) would have been 25 when her father was 51 and would have raped her — young enough (especially in relation to her father, a middle-aged man of a lot of power in and out of the family) that she would have been scared to tell anyone anything, but old enough to not have it be super out of the ordinary that she got pregnant and had a baby — especially in 1968.

To add to this theory, there’s the note in the cellar that asks “who was this Jackson?...what’s he hiding, and who put it there? Was it Charlotte?”. If you’re looking for clues with the incest theory in mind, this seems to point directly to it — “who was this Jackson”? both Rosalie and Clara’s father. “What’s he hiding”? his crime of raping his daughter and impregnating her. The mention of Charlotte alludes to the supposition that Charlotte found proof of this crime — tangible proof — and put it somewhere; this pretty much supposes that there’s a document somewhere that names Jackson as Clara’s biological father, such as an admission of guilt or a paternity test.

The final “proof-positive” to this theory is that Rosalie refused to tell Clara who her father was even on her deathbed. We know from the family tree and Wade that Clara was between 5-10 when her mother died (I’m inclined to believe the family tree, and chalk the discrepancy up to either the writers not being concerned with math or, more likely and more charitably, to show that Wade isn’t a Perfectly Reliable source, just like everyone else), and Rosalie’s protection of Clara from the truth makes sense with a child in that age span. It’s one (horrible, horrible) thing to be forcibly impregnated by your father, but to have to say it out loud, and to say it to your child — that’s something that no one can even remotely blame Rosalie for not being up to, especially when weakened by sickness.

There are smaller points — like pointing out that this might be why Virginia (Wade’s mum) was skipped over in inheritance — but these small points have dozens of explanations, so they’re not really good for bolstering a theory unless you’re already dedicated to it and are looking for crumbs to shore it up.

End of frank discussion. The previous topics may be alluded to and/or mentioned, but not discussed in detail from this point on.

Now, let’s talk about another explanation. I think there’s a tendency to jump on the “Jackson Theory” because 1) there are clues that support it, but more importantly 2) because it’s horrifying, and it’s natural to leap to the scariest thing you can think of when considering a game that relies on fridge horror in the first place.

In the “Jackson Theory”, Rosalie would have hidden Clara’s parentage because of shame, horror, and trauma, and probably to (at least momentarily) spare Clara’s feelings — but Jackson isn’t the only explanation for her reticence.

Generally, we can break apart the reasons for Rosalie’s silence into three distinct emotions or emotional states: shame (supports the Jackson Theory), trauma (supports an assault by a known wolf), or, often overlooked, ignorance.

Clara is mentioned repeatedly as being outwardly and obviously scared about her place in the family — a fear borne from and exacerbated in her childhood, as Nik plainly states (“her insecurity wasn’t just a personal flaw, it was a response to her uneven upbringing,” emphasis mine).

An easy way for Rosalie, worried as she must have been about leaving her daughter alone, to fix this if Clara really was a product of incest, is to name a distant Thornton cousin, preferably one who was already dead or out of the picture, as the father, which would assure Clara’s place in the Thornton line by both blood and her future adoption. This way, if Clara’s parentage was tested, she’d show up as a Thornton from both sides in a way that wouldn’t be suspicious, and her daughter would have an easier life.

But Rosalie didn’t do this — she never even hinted at the identity of Clara’s father. As a woman known primarily for secret keeping — not just about Clara, but about everything (“She loved her secrets,” Wade says), Rosalie would have been adept at hiding things through various means, including through lies and subterfuge, not simply staying silent. Given the little we know of Rosalie’s character, then, let’s consider why she wouldn’t have said anything — even something false — to ensure her daughter’s safety when she died.

Looking outside of Jackson (and with any other known Thornton being quite unlikely), the vast majority of assaults are committed by those known to their victim — friends, acquaintances, classmates, etc.

The Thorntons were — and are — an incredibly powerful family, both monetarily and socially. Having dealt with families such as the Thorntons before in matters like this one, it is frankly incredibly unlikely that, had Rosalie been assaulted by someone she knew, that the truth wouldn’t have come to light through another source, and that the perpetrator would have been punished in every way possible.

BRIEF DISCUSSION OF ASSAULT STATISTICS AS THEY RELATE TO ROSALIE’S POSSIBLE CASE.

Some people familiar with only the post-20th-century world as “the modern age” and with a less stellar grasp of the pre-tech-boom world might raise an eyebrow at this supposition of punishment, but this is Exactly what would have happened — and did happen with regularity — even as “far back” as ’68 — especially when the crime was committed against a young, privileged, wealthy woman of the community.

Note, this is after the USMPC adjustment to the definition of rape in ’62, but before the adjustments in the early 70s; in 9 years, forcible rape rates (this number includes only female victims, so the true number of victims is indisputably higher, given the enormous jump in rape statistics in 2016-present as male cases have been included) had soared in the United States from around 17,000 per year in 1960 to, in the year Clara was born, 31,000 reported cases (source: DisasterCenter). With these soaring numbers came soaring awareness, and combined with Rosalie’s identity as a rich, powerful young woman in a rich, powerful family, it’s on the outside of belief that, had her attacker’s identity been known or suspected, that it could have remained a secret and gone unpunished.

END OF BRIEF DISCUSSION OF ASSAULT STATISTICS AS THEY RELATE TO ROSALIE’S POSSIBLE CASE.

Given this historical and social backing, the simplest and unavoidable potential answer to why Rosalie wouldn’t have either told Clara who her father was or made up a “brief love” who abandoned her Dishonorably, is this: she didn’t know.

(I’ll spare a mention here to say that, ignorance because of being a “wild child” in the 60s and having had multiple partners would be a possible theory, but it disregards everything else we know about Rosalie and her behavior, and that her reputation as a party girl would have been common knowledge, unable to be hidden from those who were alive at the time. So let’s move on to what else would cause ignorance.)

Though attacks by a person unknown to the victim are, in relation to known assailants, rare, in the absence of other evidence, the simplest answer to Clara’s parentage was that Rosalie was assaulted by someone that she did not know and had no way of knowing — and who had no idea of the social power of his victim.

Rosalie truly left nothing behind that points to her daughter’s parentage, even for later discovery or for Clara’s private eyes in a bank lockbox when she came of an Age that Rosalie deemed appropriate — so the conclusion to be drawn is, in the absence of evidence, that Rosalie didn’t answer Clara’s question because she simply couldn’t.

This ties into the other theory/mystery I want to cover here — that of what happened the night Charlotte died, and how (and in what way) Clara was culpable and responsible for Charlotte’s death. We know that, according to her, Clara went there simply to “scare” Charlotte — and given the circumstances that Clara gives this confession in, I’m inclined to believe her — and it’s my opinion that the reason didn’t have anything to do with the truth of the identity of Clara’s father.

My stance here — and it’s here that I take a solid stance, rather than presenting options — with Charlotte (and I’ll talk more about her general character in the Suspects section) is that Charlotte found the same breadcrumbs as the players did and came to the same conclusion — that Jackson was Clara’s biological father. The difference, however, is that I believe Charlotte’s conclusion to be understandable, but ultimately incorrect, and that Rosalie’s assaulter was a stranger.

Horrified, this is where Charlotte’s “cryptic obsession with Jackson” (mentioned in the note in the cellar) began, and what led to her changing the beneficiary of her will from Clara — poor, pitiable Clara, already a victim of so much, whose insecurities would be compounded by this truth — to Harper.

An important part of this theory — and of really any theory — is the consideration that Clara was pregnant with Jessalyn at the time. Not only does this partially explain why Clara’s thought was to save herself (and her baby) rather than dragging Charlotte out with her (regardless of any other factor), but it also brings a potential answer as to why Charlotte would change her will to favor Harper, rather than Clara. Just as the cellar note asks “Who was this Jackson?”, I find myself asking a similar, but no less important question:

“Who was this Austin Neely?”

Listed as Jessalyn’s (still living) father on the family tree, Austin Neely isn’t present anywhere else in the game — not by name and not through mentions of “Jessalyn’s father” or “Clara’s ex-husband/ex-boyfriend” or anything like that. There’s not even a mention of Clara contacting him as a guest for the wedding or to help search for their daughter. His absence is glaring, especially in a game so focused around family — so the question of who is Austin Neely is a question that seems incredibly important to me, given that Clara was pregnant at the time of Charlotte’s death.

In mentioning this theory, I do fully acknowledge that I have only some circumstantial evidence — mostly emotional, and based off of who the characters are/were — to support it, but given the total lack of information on Austin Neely, my guess is as good as anything else.

So here’s my theory: Austin Neely is not Jessalyn’s father, and Clara, like her mother, became pregnant via some type of assault (and given that this was the late 80s and given Clara’s age at the time, I would say the most likely culprit is date rape). When Clara became aware that she was pregnant, given her insecurities about her place in the Thornton clan and her lack of knowledge of her own father, would have come to this conclusion: she was not going to let her baby go through what she herself went through. So she did what her mother could have — and honestly speaking, probably should have — done, and lied.

Austin Neely was probably a friend or an acquaintance of Clara’s — someone her family didn’t really know, but that she could make up a story about dating/being engaged to and became pregnant by before it all fell apart. He would have likely received a payout (probably a rather large payout, given the Thornton’s money and influence) and disappeared from the area and the Thornton’s lives, signing off any responsibility or claim to “their” child before he left.

As a result of this, her child now has a father and doesn’t have to grow up wondering, and Clara avoids the stigma, court case, and general Uproar that would come with attempting to find her attacker. She also, importantly for her, avoids that mess for her child, who will grow up in a semi-normal atmosphere, surrounded by family, not doubting her place in the world — and no one has to know.

Except, of course, one person would know. The head of the family: Charlotte Thornton. From then on, based on this series of events, the story behind Charlotte’s death becomes quite straightforward.

Clara’s paranoia and general cleverness clue her in to the fact that Charlotte has changed her will in Harper’s favor, and is scared out of her mind; having recently experienced a trauma and being pregnant with a child, she’s afraid that she will be left with absolutely nothing, that her machinations with Austin Neely and all her striving will have been for nothing, and she will be cast off, unable to give her child the life she wants to give her.

Compounded by her ground-in fear that she does not belong, she decides to try to settle it with Charlotte — she’s going to scare her, to punish her, and make Charlotte rethink the changed will.

And Charlotte, bearing the weight of the family name and business, not to mention its continued propagation on her shoulders, sees a woman who has been — like her mother — assaulted and left pregnant, whose mental state is already fragile, and who the “revelation” of who Charlotte thinks her true father is would topple her completely — sees poor, pitiable, emotional, suspicious Clara, and refuses.

I think that, more than anything else, would have set Clara off. Remember what she yells at Charlotte’s ghost?

“You had so much, so much, and I had nothing.”

In answering some of the questions about the game, Nik/HER’s response is to say that Clara did not literally light the match that burned Charlotte alive — but we know that Charlotte burned all the same. In the video of her birthday, there are candles; in the dust and soot on the floor where Charlotte died, we see candlesticks. And in the response, again, we know that Charlotte lit the candles for the celebration.

In my ASH meta, I discussed the many meanings of the word “fire” and the term “setting the fire” — and that’s important here too. In this case, the fire was set by Charlotte refusing to reconsider the terms of her will; in her refusal, she probably touched on the same point that she makes in the note in her room — that Clara isn’t stable enough to take over the company. Now, I doubt she would have said that straight to Clara’s face, but even framed as a “you have enough to be going on with and I don’t want to burden you” sort of thing, that just would have reaffirmed all of Clara’s fears — that she was unwanted by the Thornton clan, that her child would be unwanted as a matter of course, and that she would truly have nothing.

And so my guess would be that Clara shoved her. Not hard enough to break anything, not even into a direct flame, but shoved her, and Charlotte jostled the table, and a candelabra fell to the floor, where we see it still in the modern day.

When Nancy sees Charlotte’s ghost out in that house — and yes, I’m firm on that being Charlotte’s actual ghost, as she’s out in the open air so carbon monoxide doesn’t figure in, and there’s no way for that to be Harper/Jessalyn — she burns from the skirt up, which follows with a candle falling to the floor and lighting that incredibly flammable dress on fire.

The last thing to note from HER/Nik’s response is that at the end of the game, Nancy faces the exact same choice that the Thorntons have: to help, or to save herself. In this, we have to look back to Clara and Charlotte, and conclude this: Clara chose not to help. It’s debatable how much help she could have really been — we’re not sure how pregnant she was at the time — or if it even occurred to her until she was already out and chose not to go back in — but at the very least, Clara’s guilt comes not only from the fact that she quarreled with Charlotte right before her death, but that she could have tried to prevent it, and didn’t.

Given the supposition that Charlotte was literally on fire, I really do doubt that getting her out or finding water to throw on her would have been successful, but it doesn’t matter — because Clara looks at it as a choice, and Clara (more importantly) looks at it as the wrong choice, and a choice that she’s been punished for since the day it happened. That’s why, when speaking to Charlotte’s ghost, she says this:

“Haven’t I suffered enough for you?”

The last point I want to make in this OBSCENELY long introduction is about GTH’s place in the pantheon of “Haunting Games”. When you look at the bare-bones (heh) circumstances that make up GTH, you’ll start to see shades of other games.

A relationship/marriage gone a bit wrong, a family secret, an ancestral home, a relative/ancestor whose spectre looms over the story, mysterious apparitions and appearances, and Nancy’s status as an outsider and a skeptic — yeah, both CUR and HAU should come to mind immediately.

Having said my piece about, well, the badness of CUR and HAU and their unsuccessful approach to their basic plot points, it delights me that GTH takes a good hard look at them and says “well, what if we did this well this time? What if we gave our characters the complexity, the emotional resonance, the secrets and lies that we should have the first time?”

Like CUR and HAU, the Family is at the center of the game — except this time we believe in this family, in their relationships to one another, and we feel the effects of the family and their choices, not just hear about it from a diffident 9-year-old or a cranky caretaker. The history of the Thornton clan comes alive through the house, the graveyard, the books and journals that we have of them. We understand what this family is and the choices that they make — even if we don’t approve of them — and they feel real, not just like a background chucked in to Make The Spooky Things Happen.

Also like CUR and HAU, we deal with a central relationship and the complexities that come over two people deciding to get married. Happily, this game (unlike CUR and HAU) treats the central relationship as a thing of Import, and comes to the conclusion that it’s the happiness and well-suitedness of the couple that matters, not the family that surrounds them or anything else. It asks the question “what happens if one person runs away from the relationship?” and answers it, quite satisfactorily, with “there are probably some issues that need ironed out before anything else should happen”.

Interestingly, GTH also takes the good points of CUR and HAU – especially HAU’s atmosphere and CUR’s love of family tidbits — and improves upon them as well. Instead of Jane showing off her studies so that Nancy can solve a few puzzles, Wade walks her through the Thorntons were (at least in his eyes) and helps her get to know the people she’s helping. Instead of being duly impressed at the atmosphere in a bombed-out castle, everywhere on the island is teeming with fog — literal and figurative — as Nancy tries to decode the past to help the future.

Now then, let’s leave the general behind, and focus on the specifics of GTH.

The Title:

Ghost of Thornton Hall is a great title in the way that Secret of the Scarlet Hand is a great title – moody, evocative, gives us our location/focus right away, but not in a way that spoils anything, etc. If anything, it’s a little more flexible – are we dealing with The Ghost of Thornton Hall (Charlotte), the ghost(s) of the Thornton family, the ghosts of those who died on the island, or — in a very fun way — are we talking about the ghost of Thornton Hall — the spirit of the building where so much life and death has happened?

As a title for a Haunting game, you really don’t get much better than GTH, and it centers the player’s attention right where it should be — on the messed up family that the game centers around, and how their past impacts their future.

The Mystery:

Nancy’s phone rings in the middle of the night, with Savannah Woodham’s drawl on the other end, informing her of a kidnapping that’s taken place. She’d go herself, but believes wholeheartedly – and is frightened by — the ghost that’s taken up residence on Blackrock Island, Georgia, and doesn’t believe she’d be enough help.

Of course, this isn’t the whole truth, but we’ll get into that later.

Armed with both her detective skills and her inherent skepticism, Nancy sets off for Georgia to find the missing bride-to-be. Of course, when she gets there, she quickly discovers that the family — and family history — is even murkier and laced with tragedy than the presence of a ghost would suggest, and that, even with everyone searching for Jessalyn Thornton, she is nowhere to be found.

To find her, Nancy has to delve deep into the Thornton family lore, Jessalyn’s relationships with her family and friends – not to mention her preoccupied fiancé — and figure out what really did happen to dear, sweet Charlotte Thornton nearly two decades ago…

GTH, as a mystery, is chock-full of hints, clues, red herrings, and background facts that make figuring out the truth behind everything a joy and a delight — not to mention a task that will take more than one playthrough. GTH is also unique in that its mystery can end in more than one way, and that Nancy’s choices actually have more of an impact than just what souvenir she sends home to her erstwhile boyfriend. Choosing to save herself, to save just the “innocent” (for a certain value of innocence), or to save everyone leads to different endings not just for Nancy but for everyone involved with the Thornton Clan, from its matriarch all the way down to a certain spook-hunting ex-girlfriend.

Underpinning the mystery is this question: did Charlotte really come back as a ghost to haunt Blackrock and the Thorntons, or are her appearances just the result of sneaky relatives and atmospheric maleficence? Can all of the sightings be explained by a mixture of carbon monoxide poisoning, a few relatives playing dress-up, and huge amounts of suggestion and guilt? Is it the case, as Rentaro posited a few games earlier, that a ghost doesn’t have to be real to haunt you?

In a word, no. In a few more words, of course not.

Tying the whole of the ‘haunting’ mysteries together is this (previously mentioned) fact: Nancy is not remarkable for being a Skeptic, she is remarkable for being a Skeptic in a world where ghosts exist. The moving wood (and possibly the silhouette) in MHM, Camille’s ghost dancing along in TRN, the reflection of Kasumi in the water in SAW, the ghost of the Willow in GTH — these are all real, unexplainable-by-tech-or-imagination ghost sightings, and the fact that Nancy doesn’t believe in them doesn’t change their reality one bit.

In the house, you can cite carbon monoxide and Jessalyn/Harper running around in a costume for at least some of them — though not all. But the sightings outside — carbon monoxide does not stay in the system for very long in clear air, blessedly — of Charlotte? The consistency of the spectre? The apparition of her burning up at the site of her birthday party? These aren’t things that you can explain by costume theater — especially since these sightings have been happening for over a decade by people who haven’t stepped foot in Thornton Hall.

When they say that Blackrock belongs to Charlotte and has since the fire, it’s not a literary turn of phrase — Charlotte is there, and refuses to be forgotten. Nancy’s status as a Skeptic prevents her from hysteria, but it does not stop her from being haunted by the Ghost of Thornton Hall.

Now, let’s talk about the players — dead and alive — that make this mystery as complicated and dark as it is.

The Suspects:

Beginning with the matriarch of the Thorntons seems as good a place to start as any, so let’s talk about Clara Thornton. Cousin to Charlotte and Harper, Clara was taken in after her mother’s untimely death (but before her aunt and uncle’s equally untimely deaths) and became the equivalent of a sister in at least Charlotte and Harper’s eyes — though Clara herself was always unsettled and wary about her place in the family.

After the events of Charlotte’s tragic birthday (covered above), Clara visited Charlotte’s grave every night for a year, and was hospitalized after being pushed off of the widow’s walk (more on this later). Whether due to her upbringing or her Thornton blood – or, most likely, both — Clara is secretive, paranoid, wracked with guilt…and a loving mother and extremely capable businesswoman.

Though GTH doesn’t actually have a culprit —Jessalyn wasn’t kidnapped and Charlotte wasn’t murdered — Clara is, as the resident secret keeper and witness to Charlotte’s death, the closest thing that we’ve got. Clara’s sense of guilt is far beyond anything that she could have done, and is haunted so completely as to turn her rather cold.

I have a lot of sympathy for Clara, who made a mistake in a fit of anger (whether that’s pushing Charlotte or just not helping her when she started to burn) at the age of 21 and has been wracked with guilt and haunted by the spectre — real and imagined — of her ‘sister’ ever since (not to mention knowing that her other ‘sister’ blamed and hated her for it). Charlotte died before she had the time to make too many mistakes, but Clara had the entirety of the estate and the business — thousands of people’s livelihoods — thrust into her hand when she was a single mother of 21 years of age. Even had Clara been completely stable, it would have been a lot, and it’s no wonder that she rules the company with an iron fist.

I also want to point out that, due to Harper’s breakdown at the funeral and her afterwards, that even had Charlotte’s second will been found right then, Clara still would have inherited until at least Harper received her bill of mental health, as the closest heir to Charlotte of (legally) sound mind and body.

Let’s talk then about the other heir, Harper Thornton. A fan favorite for a myriad of reasons — her Helena-Bonham-Carter-esque design, her wonderful VA (props to Keri Healey, voice of Hotchkiss, Sally, Paula, Simone, and Madeline!) knocking her lines out of the park, and her dark sense of humor, Harper is, like most of the Thorntons, incredibly unstable, paranoid, violent…an affectionate aunt, and a pretty darn good detective in her own right.

Since GTH doesn’t have a ‘culprit’, Harper stands in her own guilty/not guilty paradigm along with Clara. She had nothing to do with Charlotte’s death personally, but was the one who caused assorted injuries and thousands of dollars in property damage at the funeral, and the one who pushed Clara off the widow’s walk and hospitalized her. Yes, Harper was young — 18 when Charlotte died, but pushing your cousin/sister off of a balcony is wrong at any age.

It’s worth noting that of the three Thornton ‘sisters’, one is guilty of some degree of manslaughter/criminal negligence, and the other of attempted murder. When Charlotte notes that she herself has a dose of the “Thornton paranoia”, she’s not just whistling Dixie.

The biggest problem the Thorntons have, honestly speaking, is that all of them are way too emotional and react without thinking. Clara confronting Charlotte, Charlotte not taking Clara aside to talk about the will, Harper’s injuring of others and blaming/pushing Clara, Wade destroying machinery, Jessalyn disappearing rather than talking things out…none of the Thorntons, past or present, have seemed to think with their brains since the woman who received the land on Blackrock Island after the Civil War in the first place.

In keeping with the theme, I want to talk about Charlotte Thornton next. A girl who inherited the Thornton land and business at way too young an age — I don’t even wanna know why Jackson hated his adult daughter Virginia (and yes, I know that there’s a supposition to this in the “Jackson Theory”, but it’s pure supposition) so much that he would stake the family future on a 20-year-old, no matter how much everyone liked her — after the death of her parents four years prior, Charlotte was the darling of the Thornton family.

Well-liked by everyone with a beautiful singing voice, Charlotte was nonetheless every inch a Thornton; she outright acknowledged her own paranoia, kept secrets and locked rooms closer to her than her family, and had a flair for the dramatic and emotional. After considering her cousin/sister Clara too unstable for the task of inheriting the family Business, Charlotte, rather than turning to her older aunt or naming multiple beneficiaries to ease the load, instead leaves 100% of it to her younger sister Harper.

I do want to point out the irony here in leaving the business to Harper over Clara on the grounds of mental stability. Whatever else Charlotte was good at, she was not a good judge of character, even giving leeway for her being 21.

After her death, Charlotte haunts the family home, unable to leave the place that was, for a year, hers to inherit. But why would ‘dear, sweet’ Charlotte haunt, frighten, and otherwise unsettle those around her — from family to neighbors to curious kids — especially to the extent that she does?

To answer that question, we need to talk about the family member that everyone says is incredibly close to Charlotte in personality — our missing bride, Jessalyn Thornton.

Clara’s daughter, Jessalyn is painted as being a sort of return of Charlotte; everyone loves her (all Thornton employees are combing the island looking for her, for heaven’s sake), everyone agrees on her, and she’s next in line to inherit the Thornton family business. She’s even around Charlotte’s age (24, rather than 21, but close enough) during the game, for heaven’s sake — the comparisons are not subtle, nor are they meant to be.

Since it’s more than halfway through the game that Nancy meets Jessalyn, the things that people say about her are the best clues to her personality that we have…right?

Everyone agrees that Jessalyn would never run off and make people worry like this, that even if she was scared or had second thoughts about the wedding or even just needed to be alone, that she would never do this to her family. And, as it turns out, everyone — her mother, her uncle, her best-friend-cum-fiancé — everyone is wrong. Jessalyn did exactly that — she ran off, made everyone worry, and didn’t think about her family, friends, fiancé, or employees one bit.

It also takes her no effort at all to fully believe a woman she’s never met that her mom is a vicious, cackling murderer just because her (single, incredibly busy) mother is a bit emotionally cold, so she’s also not a great judge of character.

And remember, we’re told over and over again — Jessalyn is just like Charlotte. Sure, Jessalyn is also our Nancy foil in this game — a young woman who needs to learn the truth about her mother, coerced/guided by a quasi-unreliable source, worrying her family by running off — and that’s important for Nancy’s character, but Jessalyn is first and foremost our Charlotte analogue. Jessalyn’s family and friends don’t understand who Jessalyn is…so I think it’s fair to say that Charlotte’s family and friends didn’t understand who Charlotte was, either.

We see Charlotte, through her writings and actions, could be thoughtless, was a poor judge of character, was secretive and paranoid — all things that no one even alludes to when speaking of her. Sure, there’s the idea of not speaking ill of the dead, but someone would have noted these things, even fondly or mildly.

So why would Charlotte haunt this place, haunt these people, when she was so good and kind and loved everyone? The simplest answer, the least convoluted explanation, is just that she wasn’t. That the Thorntons didn’t understand Charlotte, as much as they loved her, just like they didn’t understand Jessalyn.

Speaking of Thorntons who may be misunderstood, we’ll focus on Wade Thornton next. A little more rough-and-tumble and a little less refined than his relatives seem to be, Wade is introspective, superstitious, hard-working, and a bit gloomy…along with having some anger issues, vast amounts of distrust, and a bit of egotism.

Wade’s (at least legally) guilty of a few things in the past, but since he won’t even go into Thornton Hall, he’s a pretty easy cross-off of our list of suspects. Wade’s there to give Nancy information on the Thornton Clan, to provide the explanation as for (partially) why Savannah isn’t there herself, and to show another facet of the Thorntons — their anger.

Whether or not you agree with Wade’s actions that led to Clara pressing charges — though I think everyone can agree it’s pretty stupid to destroy your own family’s machinery, especially when the only danger to the employees was caused by him scaring them half to death — and it highlights that Wade, philosophical though he is, is just as much a Thornton as those he despises. He even calls himself out on it – that while he used to think he was on the side of “Good Thorntons”, he’s not so sure anymore.

The best (serious) line in the game does come from Wade — I will be in love with his description of dating Savannah as “[falling] for her like a Black Tuesday banker” until I die. It’s a perfect metaphor without sounding pretentious, and shows just how bleak his own worldview really is.

Next is The Fiancé, Colton Birchfield, who has the most hilariously WASP-y name to ever come out of a Nancy Drew game. A man who’s struggled with depression and anxiety all his life, Colton was born to two politicians and has lived in the spotlight — and his marriage to Jessalyn is getting just as show-stopper-y as a campaign trail before she disappeared.

I mentioned above that the resolution to Colton and Jessalyn’s relationship is the healthy, sane version of what should have happened in CUR and HAU, and I stand by that. While I don’t necessarily like him going back to Lexi after the game is over — a relationship interrupted by one party being paid off is not the healthy, loving, loyal relationship that Colton needs — it’s clear that he and Jessalyn would have made each other content, but never fulfilled romantically.

Colton’s guilty of nothing more than not being in love with his best friend, and he’s a refreshing breath of air as someone related tangentially to, but not cast down by, the Thornton family drama. He may get less sympathy than our other cast members, but he’s no less deserving of it, and I’m really rooting for him to find someone that will give him the same amount of love and loyalty that he’ll give them.

We’ll journey outside the Thornton family and their (almost) relations for our next ‘suspect’. Addison Hammond, Jessalyn’s friend and bridesmaid, makes a cameo phone appearance here to tell us that Thornton Hall is Totes Spooky, and that Jessalyn vanished not once, but twice in the night.

I quite enjoy Addison, not because she plays a big part or because she’s an exceptional character — she’s as bare-bones as we get in the later games (ignoring MED/SEA/MID), honestly — but because she’s simply a girl in her 20s reacting the way that most of us would if our unnecessarily spooky friend dragged us to an old haunted house and then vanished twice. Good for you, girl.

Coming in for a wonderful appearance is Savannah Woodham, ex-ghost hunter, ex-girlfriend of Wade Thornton, and the detective who was supposed to be on the case. Savannah’s too scared of the Ghost (and too reticent to talk to Wade face-to-face) to risk stepping foot on Blackrock Island herself, but she’s more than willing to send the biggest skeptic she knows, hoping that Nancy’s skepticism will keep her safe.

As lovely as Savannah is in SAW — and I adore her in that game — she really shines in GTH. Probably the biggest moment she gets in the game — and probably my second favorite moment in the game period — is her tale of tracing the shape of the old willow tree on her wall, only to have a body discovered under that exact willow tree after a storm. It’s a delightfully creepy — and most importantly, completely inexplicable by any means other than accepting that the supernatural exists — moment, and I think it’s key to understanding Savannah as a character in GTH.

Savannah suffers under the weight of knowing that there truly are Things that Go Bump in the Night, that can’t be arrested or captured or gotten rid of by normal, legal means. Her background knowledge of the Thorntons helps Nancy to get an initial feel for the family, and it helps to not have an ex-girlfriend wandering around that the Thorntons might have a grudge against or dislike for.

She is, in effect, the mirror image of Nancy — what Nancy might have become without her inborn skepticism — and that alone, even ignoring everything else about her, is fascinating to me.

Our other phone contacts are Ned Nickerson and Bess Marvin, teamed up due to George’s absence while doing an internship (at Technology of Tomorrow Today, no less!) and Bess’ extreme boredom without anyone else to hang out with.

The lovely thing about Ned and Bess is that we get to see Ned when he’s not Solo Boyfriend Ned, but a college guy hanging out with his friend. Their light-hearted banter is hilarious and comfortable (Bess dramatically asking permission to do a spit-take in his living room is of particular note), and we really get to see a different side of Nancy’s oft-abandoned boyfriend.

You can tell that their voice actors are having a terrific time as well (Scott Carty’s pitch-perfect imitation of Jennifer Pratt’s cadence and tone makes me laugh every time), and it really helps bring a bright and colorful spot to this otherwise rather tense and grim mystery.

We’ll round out our character list with the quasi-amateur, quasi-professional detective herself, Nancy Drew. Through her foil with Jessalyn — discussed above, so I won’t get too into it here — we get to see Nancy in a slightly different light, and get to look at the effect that she has on those around her when she disappears.

We know Carson and Ned (and occasionally Bess/George, and even more occasionally, Hannah) worry about Nancy while she’s off on a case, but this is the first time Nancy herself is dealing with what she leaves behind every time she jets off to Venice, or gets trapped in a lava tube, or lost in a rock maze. Nancy hasn’t investigated a straight-up kidnapping (or what appears to be one) since Maya in FIN (no, I’m not counting HAU, as it’s not played as a kidnapping nor does anyone think it is until 2/3 of the way through the game), and she has the same sense of urgency here that she did back then.

Upon replaying the game, the player will lose that sense of urgency for Jessalyn — we know she’s alive and well, and was never kidnapped — but Nancy’s reactions to the family are what stay interesting. She’s concerned for Jessalyn, but does most of her detective work through getting a sense of what the rest of the family thinks of the missing girl.

Given Nancy’s reputation as a good girl, a solid presence (if an occasional one) who loves her family and friends, and who is always responsible, it’s easy to see why she misses the one question that would have helped her solve the case in half of the time: what if Jessalyn isn’t missing? After all, Jessalyn, like Nancy, would never jet off after hearing an unsubstantiated claim about her mother without telling anyone or pausing to confirm it through a different, more trustworthy source, right?

In this game, we discover a huge characteristic about Nancy: she is reckless. Now, we know this already from other games — that Nancy is reckless physically, confronting bad guys alone, diving down into murky catacombs, jumping from pillars in ancient tombs — but here we see that she’s also reckless emotionally. Even though it interferes with her investigation, Nancy gets personally involved in this case; she’s mad at Colton for “cheating” on Jessalyn, she’s upset by the tragedy of Charlotte’s death, and she’s concerned for Jessalyn’s safety in a different way than she usually is with a victim or suspect.

Nancy’s always been willing to take huge risks, but she always stays emotionally on the surface level of a case — a good and necessary trait for a detective, and one that allows her to face down killers, saboteurs, and forgers without blinking. Here, Nancy’s dragged down into the web of the Thorntons, and — as we see in the middle and bad endings especially — she doesn’t quite recover from it. Nancy loses a bit of objectivity here, but what she gains is humanity — and she’ll need that for the last two games in this meta series.

The Favorite:

With such a well-executed game — even though it doesn’t fall in my personal top 5 ranking — there’s going to be a lot to love, so let’s get down to it.

My favorite puzzle is probably Nancy’s trek to ‘discover’ the ‘ghost’ — aka completing Harper’s tasks in order to meet her, culminating with reciting Charlotte’s rhyme while blindfolded. It’s a different kind of puzzle than the type we get commonly with Nancy Drew games, and really helped spark and keep the tension needed to maintain such a spooky game.

My favorite moment in the game is a quieter one — it’s Nancy’s remarks on Charlotte’s room. She’s taken aback at how, after a game of everyone talking about Charlotte, that it’s opening the door to her room that cements Charlotte as a living, breathing person. She continues that she can’t let that feeling distract her, that she needs to treat the room like the rest of the house and gather tools that will let her find Jessalyn, but it’s lovely to see the effect of the Thornton’s history really settle into Nancy’s bones as Charlotte Thornton turns from a scary rhyme that children chant to a girl who lived and died in the same walls that Nancy’s exploring.

There are, of course, other things that I love — the objectively creepy poem (“we’ll let you share with Charlotte/a gown of coal and glowing flame” is an incredible line), Savannah’s story about the willow tree, the small Francy crumbs of Frank being sullen after his Very Revealing voicemail in DED and considering an MBA, the multi-layered relationship that Wade and Savannah have, the gorgeous detail of Thornton Hall — and all of these add up to a game that’s frankly just enjoyable to play.

The big thing to mention in this game, as I talked a bit about in the intro, is its atmosphere.

Throughout the entire game, there’s this palpable feeling of death and grief and loss and pure pain, and those emotions are what GTH relies on to keep itself Scary, not the few spectre scares and swinging scythes that it also has to offer.

I don’t normally quote things other than the games/words of the cast and crew in these metas, but I do make exceptions when the quotation is this good, so I tip my hat here to Tumblr user aniceworld, speaking about ranking GTH their top Nancy Drew game of all time:

“The reason GTH is so successful as a scary game is because there’s such a pervasive sense of sorrow at Thornton Hall. People have died here who shouldn’t have. A family has been destroyed. The house has seen so much trauma it can literally no longer stand on its own. There are ghosts that live here, whether you can see them or not.”

This horror is far better than bloody slashers or obnoxious “continuous mysterious accidents”-style thrillers that tend to permeate the genre; instead of random death-by-umbrella or scary-guy-in-the-shower incidents driving the plot, the emotion behind death and loss and betrayal gets to take a turn at the wheel, and the game is much better for it.

The Un-Favorite:

As with any game, however, no matter how good the atmosphere, there are some things that I don’t love.

I’m not actually the biggest fan of Harper; while her design is great and her VA does a spectacular job, she’s a little cartoonish among a cast that endeavors to stay as far away from broad stereotypes as possible.

It’s fine to have a large personality, it’s fine that she’s a bit cracked, it’s great that she has her own reasons and motivations beyond “expose the truth” (especially since she’s not interested in exposing the truth, just in proving that Clara’s a murderer) — she’s just really not my cup of tea, and I prefer Harper as the Anonymous Note Leaver to Harper the Conversational Partner.

Even if she does get some of the best lines in the game.

I don’t really have a least favorite moment or puzzle that sticks out to me; there are puzzles I struggle more or less with, but none of them are immersion-breaking or so frustrating that I have to get up and walk away. The ones I love, I enjoy solving; the ones I don’t love, I turn to the walkthrough and finish them up to get on with the story.

The Fix:

So how would I fix Ghost of Thornton Hall?

Even given my small problems with Harper, I’m not sure I’d change her. Sure, she’s a bit Broad for the game, generally speaking, but she’s also another example of what loss can do to a person — it can make you cold and withdrawn, it can make you righteously angry and dismissive…or it can turn you malicious and violent. She’s an important presence regardless of my personal taste, and while I might tweak a line of dialogue or two, it’s important to note that her Persona is just another thing for Nancy to discover and re-discover as she investigates the Thorntons.

While not a perfect game — very few, if any, of the Nancy Drew games qualify for that title — Ghost of Thornton Hall is an excellent entry in the Nancy Drew series as a whole, and in the smaller series of Nancy-centric games. Through it, we get to see what happens to those who are left behind after a tragic, sudden, and even violent loss — and that becomes more and more important as we leave behind the gloomy Georgia island and leap across the pond to Glasgow.

[taiyakiiwrites]

Hello! May I request a BNHA ( Male ) matchup, please? Thank you so much in advance!!

×××

I go by the name Prince or Jun, and my pronouns are : He/They. I'm an INFP and a 4'10" Pisces.

I'm a total introvert who would not leave the house unless necessary, and I tend to avoid large crowds and people since I have social anxiety. I'm quite distant, cold and awkward when I first meet people but I get really weird ( ahem, shameless.) and outgoing once I warm up to someone. I'm a worrywart and prone to have pessimistic/intrusive thoughts. My humor is dark and inappropriate and very sexual. Although, I'm panromantic asexual. My love language are physical affection ( back hugs, cuddles, face peppering, playing with your hands, hand holding, & arm over the shoulder. ), and cheesy/corny flirts. I'm also a psychology student, an artist, a cosplayer, and a creative makeup artist. I enjoy horror films and historical novels. I like playing pranks on others, listening to all kinds of music, and dancing. I dream to be a full-time cosplayer or a psychologist. I like to travel the world as well, take photos, and, of course, watch anime and read manga! I like hanging out in a dimly lit bedroom, watching movies, or at an abandoned area ( parking lot, building, etc. ) I enjoy solitude and the dark. Oh! I'm scared of butterflies and allergic to dust.

I tend to be impulsive at times ( mainly concerning money ), and I exhibit extreme mood swings. I'm very affectionate though, and always willing to lend a shoulder or an ear. I also care too much. Apart from that, I'm very sarcastic and a swearing sailor ( I cuss a lot with people I'm comfortable with. ) Playful, bad memory ( sometimes ), bad at picking up jokes most of the times, and has a tendency to suddenly disappear for a few weeks before returning like nothing happened. I need to recharge to be able to socialize again.

I'm a total sap and an affectionate person to the person I love. I'm the type to wake up every morning and message them, "Good morning, hun!" and I also check up on them if they're feeling well. Although, I also enjoy playfully bullying them, I find it adorable but I always spoil them afterwards.

I have two ideal dates.

One : Just casually lounging at either one's bedroom. The lights are dim, the windows are closed along with the curtains while we cuddle on the bed, binge watching movie series or an animated series. We'd have snacks and drinks as we stay up late till 3 AM. Maybe we'd take short, funny videos and post them on our stories. Turn up the music and have small dance party. Do each other's hair and makeup. Have a small fashion show. A sleepover date, to be precise.

Two : Going on an exploring date to an abandoned building or a forest. Just the two of us. No other people around. Taking photos or videos, or just hanging out as we have small talk. It'll be even better if it's a haunted area and we do it at night, scaring each other just for shits and giggles.

i match you up with… HANTA SERO

notes: i’m so sorry this took so long T^T you added a lot of stuff and i wanted to get at least most of it in, plus my inbox is flooded ;-; but i hope you enjoyed what i cooked up nonetheless!

⇉ requests are open!! || main masterlist || rules

you are all over the place and sero is just down for the ride

i think kaminari introduced you to him and that’s how you met?

even if you start out cold, sero will persevere. he’s a part of the bakusquad and he has to deal with bakugou everyday—don’t underestimate his determination to befriend with you

and then you two proceeded to get closer throoooough: humor (sero is a high school boy, there is no way he doesn’t share at least a little of your sense of humor), historic novels (he seems like the type to enjoy history!), and pranking bakugou (somehow neither or you have died yet and everyone is shocked)

the usual is sero is the chill one and you’re doing whatever, but there’s moments where he just has to let go in a different sense, yknow? and you help him do that 👏👏👏

will pretend to have no idea who you are if you show up in a cosplay

threatens to kill any butterfly that comes your way

“back the FUCK UP FROM MY BOYFRIEND I WILL TAPE YOUR WINGS TO THE WALL AND RIP YOUR BODY OFF OF THEM”

he is your #1 simp

it’s like gregg and mae from night in the woods but romantically (if you know what night in the woods is)!

things they love about you

your affection towards the people you care about! your caring side, one could say, warms his heart whenever it’s out in the open. and it sounds a little “self”-centered when i say he likes it when he’s the outlet for that affection but hear me out: this guy is so used to just existing—just staying in the background. the SLIGHTEST but of affection will fluster him beyond reason

sero doesn’t really have too many sides of his personality—your versatility makes you a complete opposite to him. not only that, but it’s interesting to learn every little part of you. and picking up little facts you share with him subconsciously really shows just how much you affect him

your reliability! sero knows that he can come to you with any problem he has and you’ll lend an ear. stress of UA is a pickle enough, and adding the fact that he’s in class 1A, the class that has been targeted the most? the pressure on him to improve and succeed is almost unbearable at times. but he knows he has you and he couldn’t be more grateful

relationship headcanons

those two dream dates you mentioned? pack your bags cause he’ll be waiting for you at the front door the minute you tell him about them. he’s down for any kind of fun! and with you as well? sign him up

for the first one: he brings the snacks, you choose the media—tv or show. though, be prepared because no matter the genre, it’ll be hard to focus on the tv with sero’s stupid comments:

“let’s make a bet. who do you think will die first?”/“are you SERIOUS? HOW ARE THEY SO OBLIVIOUS? KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE—”/“he’s pretty. he’s really pretty. if he liked you, would you leave me? i wouldn’t even blame you—he’s really good looking”

first date scenario also includes making stupid videos, satirical spa treatment with the fuzzy slippers/robes and everything, dance party with sero’s dorky dancing, and more!

second date includes: sneaking out of heights alliance to go to an abandoned house, scaring each other every two seconds, flashlights and phones dying halfway and ultimately getting separated accidentally, finding each other after getting separated with a long marco polo game, running, spinning, and dancing around in the dorm building’s parking lot on the way home

sero’ll check in on you as much as you do him! someone who cares so openly needs to be cared about just as much, and he is fully aware of that

be able to take your own medicine: despite how devoted he is to you, he will have a come back every time you bully him

also he has a TEASING SIDE—

GET READY TO BLUSH CAUSE THIS GUY ACTUALLY HAS GAME!?1!1!

sero is a little bit insecure about how amazing you seem to be compared to him, so there will be moments he is afraid you’ll leave him for someone better. but, his worries are washed away whenever he sees your smile

he will try to understand the times you disappear—he just hopes that with certain things, you’ll trust him enough to talk to him about it

(author’s note: as someone who has disappeared from friends unannounced multiple times and came back after months, it’s not a good feeling when you find out what the people you cherish accidentally thought. be sure to communicate with your friends about it and assure them that it’s not their fault!)

songs that remind me of you two

honeybee by the head and the heart

mr loverman by ricky montgomery

are you bored yet? (feat. clairo) by wallows and clairo

summer nights from grease

i love you too much from the book of life