#the making of haunted mansion holiday

[dreammeiser]

IT IS THE SEASON FOR SPOOKING!! My friends had the brilliant idea of making matching Halloween icons of our Dreamalong characters on instagram, so I indulged and made a Ghost Host Archie! He looks quite dashing in the suit he was buried in, I think!

[samsdisneydiary]

Making of Disneyland's Haunted Mansion Holiday | Official Documentary | Disney Imagineering | 2010

Making of Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion Holiday | Official Documentary | Disney Imagineering | 2010

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (1/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest but they were unaware children, kissing, the angst, stalking, woman on the rape pill, drug trade ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When he needed to calm down before a meeting with clients or a brutal explanation of certain matters, he would lock himself in some room or his car, close his eyes and return with his thoughts to that summer holiday.

First he would always hear the sound of the sea, and then he would see the beach and the setting sun all around him, somewhere in the distance hearing her laughter.

It was their first and last trip together, which had obviously been his father's idea. He thought it would be a good way to cool a bit of tension in the family and invited his daughter from his first marriage to join them at their summer residence along with her partner, Harwin Strong, her former bodyguard, and their children.

The locals called their house ‘King's Landing’, because in fact the building looked like some kind of modern palace, with a huge garden, a private beach access and a small harbour with their sailboats and scooters.

He had never wondered where his father got money to buy such a great mansion: he thought that he had earned it all and the others had not and that was why they were poor.

Neither he nor his brother were thrilled with the idea: they did not want to share their toys or rooms with the Strongs, which, although they usually stood empty, were sometimes used for playing. Despite their verbal expressions of displeasure, Rhaenyra arrived with her partner and children in a large black Mercedes, disturbing, in his mind, their peace and order.

For the first few days, he simply tried to pretend he hadn't seen them: he would go for solitary hikes along the beach, looking for treasures in the sand, thinking he envied Helaena, who instead of joining them decided to spend her holiday with her friend and could do whatever she wanted.

Their mother allowed them to swim in the sea as long as they didn't swim too far away from the shore, and the smallest children, namely Luke and his sister, wore plastic shoulder pads filled with air to make them float.

Every little thing that made him better than his brother or nephews made him feel superior, so when he noticed that he swam the best out of all five of them, he showed it off by diving underwater once in a while only to emerge somewhere much further away. Their sister was most impressed by this, asking him to teach her how to do it, but he paid no attention to her.

The little squealing girls did not interest him, but Jace's face full of displeasure did.

He grinned in a way that made the eldest Strong's lips pressed together into a thin line and saw him swimming towards him.

He was sure that Jace would just want to hit him or sub him, so he prepared to put up aggressive resistance if necessary, he surprised him completely, however, by pulling his shorts off his legs.

He laughed out loud as he threw himself after him, trying to snatch it from him, fruitlessly, Aegon seeing this, shouted:

"– c'mon, hand it to me! –" He called out and indeed, Jace did so, making his opportunity to retrieve his stolen clothes move away from him towards the shore with them and Luke who also laughed thinking, apparently, that it was a very funny joke.

"– stop it! –" Their sister squealed, being the only one to stay in the water with him.

It was the first time he had felt so humiliated, frightened and lonely – although Aegon often teased him, this time it was something completely different.

His older brother came ashore, waving his shorts.

"Come and get them!" He laughed, throwing them somewhere far out on the sand so that he would have to run naked many metres before he could even reach them. His niece looked up at him, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

"– wait – wait, I'll get them for you in a minute –" She called out, moving towards the shore, getting out of the water at last and running across the sand – Aegon, Jace and Luke watched her efforts from afar, laughing loudly.

As much as he didn't want to, as much as he tried to stop himself, he burst out into a loud sob, ashamed, sad and bitter, standing in water up to his waist and not moving from his place, wanting to just drown and die.

He finally heard a splash – his niece was swimming towards him with his clothes in her hand, reaching out to him. He snatched his shorts from her in an aggressive, furious motion, whooping with his tears.

"– if you tell anyone about this –" He hissed.

"– no – no, please don't cry –"

"– fuck off –" He growled, pushing her away for some reason, furious that she had seen his outburst of despair, the fact that he was crying like a little girl.

He put his shorts back on and stepped out of the water, heading immediately towards home, paying no attention to Aegon's screams for him to come back, for them to go riding their bikes together, that it was just a joke.

He spent the rest of the day in his room reading history books. He liked to imagine that he was someone else: a great scientist, explorer, king, prince or knight. As he read stories about the great, terrifying dragon Vhagar, he thought he would like to have such a creature for himself, so that he could burn his brother and his nephews.

He answered his mother's questions about what had happened in a perfunctory manner – he knew his brother would take revenge on him if he said too much and he didn't feel like causing any more trouble.

He shuddered at night, roused from a deep sleep when he heard someone's steps in the corridor.

He feared it was them, that they were once again trying to make a mockery of him.

He rose up on his arms, terrified, when the door to his room opened with a loud creak.

"– Aemond? –" He heard her quiet mumble, even barely able to see her silhouette in the darkness he could tell she was crying.

"– can I sleep with you? –"

"– you must be crazy –" He hissed.

His reply made her draw in air loudly, whooping apparently with her own tears.

"– they took away my little lamp – Jace said I'm already big and I can't sleep with the light on – but I'm so scared –" She babbled in despair, as if this was the worst day of her life and there were big monsters lurking in the shadows of the room she slept in ready to devour her.

For some reason, what she said made him feel a sting in his heart and sympathy, through which he shifted to the side, sighing heavily, making room beside him.

"– okay, just be quiet already – come here –" He muttered, and she breathed a loud sigh of relief, closing the door behind her.

She surprised him by climbing onto his bed and immediately covering herself with his duvet, breathing loudly as if she was really scared.

"– thank you –"

"– sleep –" He commanded, turning his back to her. "– you are to disappear tomorrow morning – if anyone sees you, I will kill you with my own hands – do you understand? –"

"– yes –" She mumbled out with difficulty.

He heard her turn on her other side, but he could still feel the warmth of her body – his bed designed for one person for two proved a tad too cramped and there was no way their shoulders wouldn't touch.

Although he felt ashamed that he had slept with a girl, on the other hand her presence had a calming effect on him – the conviction that someone was beside him, her warmth and her scent, reminding him of vanilla pudding or cake, made him fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When he woke up, to his relief, she was gone, nor had she told anyone that she had come to him.

What surprised him was that she came to him the next night and jumped into his bed as if it was hers.

"– what are you doing? –" He muttered, looking at her in shock, his favourite book about dragons in his hands.

"– I'm going to bed –"

"– you've got to be joking – go to your place –"

"– I don't have a lamp –"

"– I'll give you mine –"

"– no – this one is too big – for me to sleep it has to be small or someone has to sleep next to me – I swear I'll disappear tomorrow morning –" She mumbled, seeing him tilt his head back, closing his eyes in impatience.

"– I don't want you in my room –" He said finally. "– neither you nor your brothers – I'd rather you never came here –"

It was only when he heard how the words sounded that he thought he had exaggerated, however, he could no longer take it back – he heard her draw in a breath, her cheeks red with sadness, her eyes glazed with tears. She burst out crying, pulled herself up from her seat and ran out of his room.

He thought, returning to his reading, trying to drown out the discomfort in his stomach and the tightness in his throat with the thought that at least she and everyone else would give him a break.

He tried to focus on what he was reading, but then his thoughts returned again to her, alone, in the darkness that had so frightened her.

He remembered Aegon scaring him that there was a great one-eyed monster living in his wardrobe that would come out of there and eat him if he closed his eyes even for a moment.

He cried from exhaustion and didn't sleep for several nights until his mother, when she found out he had fallen asleep in class at school, explained to him that it had been a simple lie.

He thought with shame that she was just a child who was being bullied by them as much as he was, and although he was angry, he decided he would go and see if she had fallen asleep.

Perhaps she was being too dramatic?

He got up quietly from his bed and went out into the corridor, walking slowly to her room, which was next to his. He opened the door and looked inside, noticing to his surprise that her bed was empty; he could, however, hear her raspy, heavy breath.

He stepped inside, looking around the moonlit room, approaching her bed hearing her breathing more and more clearly. He knelt down, bending over and only then did he see, horrified, her silhouette lying on the floor under the wooden frame, her eyes clenched shut, her plump cheeks red from tears.

"– please, don't eat me –" She squealed out.

"– it's me – hey –" He whispered, touching her hand, and she screamed and slammed her head on the bed above her. She cried out loudly in pain, clutching at the spot, and he hushed her by stroking her back.

"– come here – I'm afraid of monsters too –" He whispered, and she, at his words, crawled to him and cuddled into him as if he were a teddy bear, clenching her hands into fists on his back, crying miserably.

He took her into his arms, letting her throw her arms around his neck – when he stood up with her he thought she was unusually light. He laid her down on the bed and slipped under the duvet right beside her, letting her small hands embrace his waist, her face snuggled against his chest.

Only then did he feel her whole body shake.

His hand stroked her hair until she calmed down and they both finally fell asleep in a tender, close embrace.

For the next few days when she came to him, he let her lay her head on his shoulder and read a book with him, which he kept resting on his stomach. They didn't talk then, focused on reading, his cheek resting against the top of her head.

"– can I turn the page? –" He asked, wanting to know if she had managed to read everything.

"– yes –"

She really liked the character of one of the princesses. It was another volume of the story of The Mighty Vhagar and she was the beloved of the Prince who had managed to tame this terrible dragoness. Rhaenys, for that was the heroine's name, also had her own dragon, but a much smaller one, and together with the Prince she flew in the skies.

"I wish I had a dragon like Rhaenys." She confessed to him at last, and he grunted, agreeing with her deep down, not wanting to admit it, however.

The more he got to know her, the more her presence ceased to irritate him: what he liked about her was that she respected his barrier rules. She knew that he liked silence and also that he hated it when someone rearranged or took his things. They sometimes discussed books while sitting on the terrace or walking on the beach pretending to be treasure hunters.

"Kiss your girlfriend!" Laughed Aegon, looking at them from afar, making them both turn scarlet with shame.

His words, however, made him experience a daze.

She was, in fact, a girl, on top of which, in his eyes, she was extremely pretty – her large, bright eyes were framed by beautiful dark eyelashes and eyebrows, her wide smile sweet and comforting. Her voice and touch were also pleasant, tender, her body warm as she snuggled into him at night, seeking refuge in his arms.

He thought he'd never met a girl he liked and fancied, and envied Aegon that he'd already kissed a few of his female friends at school.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asked her one day, walking along the beach with her, kicking various stones along the way. His niece lifted her surprised gaze to him, distracted from browsing through the white seashells she had found and wanted to take home with her.

"No. And you?" She asked curiously.

It was easier for him to tell the truth knowing that she had never had anyone either.

"No." He muttered.

They were silent for a long time, walking side by side, thoughtful.

He wondered where he was actually going with this question, his heart pounding like mad.

"And would you like to have one? A boyfriend, I mean." He asked quickly, feeling himself turn red with embarrassment – he was unable to look at her, afraid of her reaction, so he just looked around pretending to be intrigued by something.

"Well. It depends if I would like him." She replied softly.

He swallowed hard at her words.

"Do you like me?" He asked. He heard her quiet giggle beside him.

"Yes."

"So?" He continued, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, meeting her curious, bright gaze.

"What are you asking?" She asked, cocking her head, a wide smile on her face.

He was unable to get the words out.

"I can be your girlfriend, but that will mean I get to hold your hand sometimes or give you a kiss." She said finally making his heart stop in his throat.

"…but only when we're alone." He said.

"Alright." She replied lightly, undaunted, returning to looking through her shells.

He struggled to hold back a smile, feeling hot in his stomach, thinking with relief that it was simple enough and he felt satisfied.

He had a girlfriend.

For the rest of the day they pretended nothing had happened, talking to each other in passing.

What he was looking forward to was the night and the warmth of her body against his.

Indeed, she came to his room as usual as soon as she made sure everyone was already asleep and jumped into his bed making his heart beat harder. He turned off the lamp even though they were usually still both reading together, laying his head next to her on the pillow, startling her.

"– are we going to sleep already? –" She asked quietly and he nodded.

She blinked when his hand rose slowly and tentatively touched her cheek. He swallowed hard, feeling how pleasant, soft and warm her skin felt under his fingers, even in the darkness he knew she was blushing.

He pressed his forehead against hers feeling their breaths quicken, not knowing how to express what he wanted so as not to frighten her at the same time. He leaned in slightly, stroking her face with his thumb, his fingers running over her neck making her breathless.

"– may I? –" He mumbled and she nodded quickly, her fingers running over his jaw making him feel the heat rippling through his stomach, his heart pounding like crazy in his chest.

He enclosed her cheek in his palm when his lips finally pressed against hers – he was surprised by how soft, fleshy and moist they were. He pulled away from her immediately with a quiet click and grunted, twisting in his place, closing his eyes, feeling like he was about to have a heart attack from excitement.

"– sleep –" He commanded, feeling that it was too much emotions for one time. His niece answered nothing, snuggling up to him as she did every night, and he put his arms around her.

It was his first kiss with his first girlfriend.

He felt grown up, fulfilled and happy.

They spent the next few days on various expeditions, pretending that they were great explorers of scary temples looking for treasures or great tombs of old kings. They did nothing out of the ordinary apart from the occasional quick, embarrassing kiss on the lips or cheek, however, to his surprise his affection towards her grew each day.

He realised that he genuinely liked her.

She shared his passion, she was excited with him about their finds, which were most often old coins, she helped him come up with their new missions and, above all, she didn't laugh at him, but with him.

Her words, though child-like, were full of understanding and empathy, her commitment and fearless nature made her his indispensable companion, and part of him thought with relief that it would stay that way forever.

That he found his haven.

However, their closeness began to frustrate Aegon, who finally pushed him to the wall.

"Why do you keep running after her? Are you kissing her or something?" His brother asked mockingly, and he felt satisfaction at the thought of how he could answer him.

"Maybe." He replied.

Aegon looked at him in disbelief and furrowed his brows in consternation.

"WHAT? Have you gone mad? It's your niece! That's disgusting and on top of that, illegal! You can't kiss your own family!" He said making his heart stop, cold sweat running down his back.

"– after all, she is not my sister –"

"– but you are her uncle! – do you know what our mother would do to you if she found out? – you're a complete moron –"

"– I was only joking – I wanted to annoy you –" He lied quickly, feeling a wave of shame, sadness and horror run down his spine.

That day he turned on his computer quickly and, although the internet was still running very slowly at the time, he managed to read in the Online Encyclopedia that what he had done was called incest and was considered a socially unacceptable perversion, although some countries allowed marriage between an uncle and a niece or cousin.

It didn't change the fact that he burst into loud sobs, feeling like a fool, regretting everything he had done to her, that he had ever met her, that he had ridiculed himself again because of her.

"– I'm breaking up with you –" He told her the same day, making her eyes widen in disbelief and fear.

"– but –"

"– you're my niece – you can't be my girlfriend – sleep with your brother or your mum tonight –"

It seemed to him that what he said had completely broken her, because instead of saying anything, tear after tear began to run down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her hands, trying to calm herself, but they continued to flow.

He felt some natural urge to embrace her, his heart squeezed at the sight of her suffering, but there was nothing he could do about it.

They were not meant for each other.

Wanting to somehow soften his words and what he had done to her, he wrote her his phone number on a piece of paper and slipped it under her door that very evening, so that she could contact him if something bad happened, but she could call only in a life-threatening emergency.

He didn't want anyone to catch him talking to her, much less Aegon.

He thought their brief relationship and break-up would be the worst and most heartbreaking thing to happen to him on this holiday, but it wasn't.

Fueled by rage and aggression that he had no way to deal with, he threw himself at Jace as he started laughing at him, pounding him with his fists, and Luke, wanting to defend his older brother, hit his head with a glass bottle lying on the sand, which smashed into his face.

It turned out that one of the shards damaged his eye, while the other cut the left part of his face.

They all started screaming, which their parents heard – Alicent, panicked, called an ambulance, while Rhaenyra packed up, took her children and left.

The doctors, to his mother's despair, said that an operation had to be performed immediately and that the eye would have to be removed: he remembered very little of this period, not speaking or looking at anyone at the time, as if something in his mind had switched off and he had lost touch with reality.

He thought only about her.

About his Rheanys.

He opened his eyes, returning with his mind to his car – he glanced at the blue-lit display and saw that it was approaching two o'clock in the morning.

They'll be here soon, he thought.

He stepped outside, closing the car door behind him, pulling a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of his leather jacket. He took one out and slipped it into his mouth, leaning over the bright, warm flame, the tip of it turning red. He took a drag, closing his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the smoke out through his nose.

Indeed, it wasn't even a few minutes before he heard the screech of tyres – several black cars drove into the square, blinding him with their long lights.

Turn it the fuck off, he thought, covering his face with his hand, taking another drag.

He heard men start to come out of the cars – most of them were tipsy dudes just doing security, however Jason Lannister, who was supposed to hand him part of the money for the contract, was their opposite.

He looked like a hipster in his jumper, with his blonde hair pulled back and beard, a suitcase in his hand.

"As much as I agreed with your grandfather. Next part in two weeks." He said.

"Open it." He ordered, blowing out smoke through his mouth, looking at him with a grin, from which Jason swallowed loudly.

Lannister pulled a key from his trouser pocket and opened the suitcase, presenting him with elegantly stacked, sorted thick files of money.

He nodded and hummed under his breath, satisfied, going around his car, opening his boot. He pulled out a fake bottom made especially for the police, underneath which was a bag containing several kilos of white powder that Jason sold through his club.

They exchanged bags and shook hands, parting without a word, not wanting to tempt fate.

He smoked his cigarette to the end and trampled the butt with his shoe, climbed into his car and started the engine, eager to get back to his flat and sleep for at least a few hours. He set off ahead with a squeal of tyres, driving out of the harbour onto one of the main streets, a complete blank in his mind.

He felt nothing.

Or at least he thought he did, until her name showed up on his dashboard display remotely connected to his phone, the sound around him indicating that she was calling him made him freeze.

Over the years she had texted him, describing her days, asking how he was doing, wishing him a happy birthday, but he had never written her back, thinking it was pointless.

He only associated her with what he could not have and what happened next.

However, the fact that she called was exceptional.

Call only in a life-threatening emergency.

FUCK.

He wanted to pretend he hadn't seen it, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to live with what he'd done if it turned out the next day that her dead body had been found somewhere in the woods.

His trembling hand rose to the button on the screen with the handset symbol on it – he swallowed hard when his finger touched it and there was silence.

"– Aemond? –" He heard her trembling, breaking voice, his heart pounding like mad – he thought in disbelief that she sounded familiar and foreign at the same time.

"– what is it? –" He asked dryly, feeling the cold sweat run down his back as he tried to focus on the road.

She was probably just drunk and desperate, he consoled himself.

"– G-God – they must have – they must have put something into my drink –" She mumbled with difficulty between sobs, her breath heavy and ragged – he felt his heart stop, his hands involuntarily tightening on his steering wheel.

"– what? – fuck – where are you? –"

All he heard for a moment was her shallow breathing and crying, saw with his eyes her face then when he told her they couldn't be together.

"– Rhaenys – focus – fucking speak to me –"

"– I – mmm – I don't know – I think... – ...I think I'm in the toilet –" She muttered, apparently losing touch with reality.

"– in what toilet? – in the club? –" He asked desperately, running his hand over his mouth and jaw, thinking with horror that someone might be about to rape her.

"– yes – in the... – ...club – like... – ...one... – ...with palm trees –" She mumbled, and he drew in the air loudly, knowing what she was talking about.

"– Heavenly Beach? –" He asked, turning on his indicator, making a U-turn even though he should have done it at the next crossroads, several cars started honking at him, braking with a screech to avoid hitting him.

"– Rhaenys? – FUCK! –" He shouted, no longer hearing her voice, slapping his hands on the steering wheel, feeling tears burning under his eyelids for the first time in years.

He felt like he was in a panic, only realising after a moment that he was breathing loudly through his mouth.

He had broken many traffic regulations to get to this place as quickly as possible.

The security guards knew him and let him in outside the huge queue, to the fury of the others waiting – he ran quickly down the stairs, hitting several guests on the way who shouted after him to be careful, the loud electric music completely deafening him.

He wondered, what was she doing here?

Walking through the flickering lights and darkness, he headed straight for the toilets, going inside with a loud slam of the door. Several of the girls inside squealed, horrified by the presence of a man in the women's washroom.

"Get the fuck out!" Shouted one of them, stepping in his way, but he pushed her away. The girl fell over and whimpered, her friend, as drunk as she was, began calling him names, threatening to call security.

"RHAENYS!" He called out, opening one cubicle after another until he came across a closed door from behind which no sound came. When hit it with his foot it opened with a loud clatter and then he saw her: she was lying on the tiles sunken in deep sleep, unconscious, her phone by her face.

Looking at her, he remembered with shame that he knew perfectly well what she looked like, because he stalked her Instagram and Facebook accounts almost every evening: at first he just wanted to mock her and her life, then, however, it helped him control which boys she was seeing.

He destroyed his first phone by throwing it against a wall when he saw a picture of her in the arms of some guy when she was in high school, his rage caused by the fact that she was able to move on and he was stuck, still with his mind in that summer.

He knew she had studied archaeology because she sometimes posted photos from excavations, showing unusual finds. He couldn't bear it when he saw a picture of her sitting next to a boy who was putting his arm around her waist, surely going to university with her.

Robb, because it turned out that was his name when he traced his profile through her friends, liked to have a good time: he'd gone a few times to clubs he'd visited, wanting to look at him from afar.

He watched him chat up strange women and, although nothing happened between them, he came to a certain conclusion.

He didn't trust him.

He didn't like him.

That's why he took a picture of him with a woman, who he put his arm around exactly as it was then, in their picture, and then asked the owner of the club, who was buying drugs from them, to post the picture on their official Facebook.

They often uploaded photos from parties, so this was nothing unusual, and the feeling of satisfaction he experienced when he saw that after a few days she had deleted all their photos together was indescribable.

He consoled himself with the thought that it wasn't because he was jealous, but because he wanted to protect her, like the good, caring uncle he had never been.

And now she, the girl he saw every day on his phone screen lay unconscious in the stinky toilet where others came to fuck and snort cocaine, vulnerable and helpless.

"– hey – hey, wake up, kid –" He muttered, trying to lift her up, tapping his palm against her cheek to revive her, with no effect.

She didn't even flinch.

He grabbed her under her hips and lifted her up, rising from his knees with her, walking out of the toilet, the two drunk girls led them away with eyes full of disbelief.

As he walked with her through the club he noticed two men standing at the bar watching him closely – they turned away, pretending to talk to each other when they met his gaze.

Were they the ones lurking for her?

Were they the ones hoping to have fun with her that night?

He felt disgust and rage at the thought, for although he didn't get into any deeper relationships, he only took from women as much as they were willing to give him.

Sex allowed him to vent and not go crazy, but no relationship was an option.

He didn't want any new girlfriends.

With one hand holding her under her buttocks, he slipped the other into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out the keys to his car, opening it remotely. He opened the passenger side door and settled her into the seat, fastening her seatbelt. She mumbled something that sounded like no, clearly thinking he was the one who had done this to her.

"– easy – I'll take you home –"

He hated Rhaenyra's new husband wholeheartedly, as he was their biggest rival when it came to drug deals, however, he had no choice: after Harwin was shot, his older sister quickly found comfort in the arms of another man who was far more dangerous.

Perhaps that was what attracted him to her.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his niece's silhouette plunged into sleep, tense, her body completely numb, her bowed head leaning against the window.

He placed his hand on her palm, clamping his fingers on her skin, his throat squeezed at the thought that he felt exactly like then, when he had found her curled up under the bed.

"– you were right to be afraid of sleeping in the dark – you don't even know how many real monsters lurk in its shadows –" He whispered – her body shuddered, but she didn't wake, her fingers tightening on his.

"– uncle –" She mumbled.

He pressed his lips together feeling a single, heavy, warm tear of sorrow run down his cheek at the thought that she was able to recognise his voice after so many years.

He parked in front of Daemon's house and lowered his window, pressing the button to wake up whichever bodyguard was there. He heard a moment later that someone had in fact appeared under the other side.

"– do you know what fucking time it is, man? –"

"– someone gave Daemon's daughter, and my niece, a rape pill – I brought her –" He said dispassionately, his free hand still clenched on hers.

"– oh fuck –" The man mumbled, and the gate in front of him immediately opened.

He pulled into the driveway and parked at the very entrance, Rhaenyra in only a bathrobe, apparently awakened from a deep sleep, walked out of the house with Daemon running up to his car. He turned off the engine and stepped outside, closing the door.

"– what happened? – how did you find her? –" She asked terrified and pale, looking at him in disbelief.

"– Heavenly Beach – she called me – she barely spoke –" He replied coldly, opening the passenger side door. Her mother immediately leaned over her, gently patting her cheeks.

"– my love? – good God –" She mumbled, stroking her hair and shoulders as if she were a small child.

"– what was she doing there? –" He asked Daemon. Rhaenyra's husband threw him a long, frustrated look.

"– she said she would be staying the night with a friend – I am as surprised as you are –" He replied impatiently, taking his niece in his arms exactly as he had before, heading home with her, her face sunken into a deep sleep lying on his shoulder.

He shuddered when Rhaenyra touched his arm, looking at him uncertainly.

"– would you like a cup of tea? – you can stay the night with us –"

After you ran away without a word of apology when your son ruined my life, you stupid whore?

"– no –" He said immediately, turning around and heading for the driver's side door, getting inside his car without bestowing another glance on her. He started the engine and began to back up, turning around, driving out through the gate back onto the dirt road.

By the time he returned to his flat it was morning, but he did not feel tired or sleepy. He was attacked immediately by the paws of a large brown dog – Vhagar, his gift of comfort after losing his eye, looked at him with big eyes and barked with rage that he had left her alone for so long.

"I know. I know. I've had a rough night." He hummed, stroking her head. His dog grumbled for another moment, whining and howling, until she gave up, returning to her sleeping place.

He pulled off his jacket and boots, lay down on his bed and unlocked his phone, going into his messages, clicking on the icon that said Rhaenys.

He scrolled through her messages, imagining as he did so that she was lying right next to him, that everything he had read she had just whispered in his ear, embracing him tenderly as she had then, that summer.

He didn't write her back because he didn't know what he should say.

He was ashamed to admit that if it hadn't been for Aegon, this would probably have gone on for a while until their parents found out and they would be completely humiliated.

He was ashamed to admit that his most beautiful childhood memory was both something disgusting and shameful, something that some part of him wanted to forget.

He was ashamed to admit that his grandfather had told him that he could forget about the University, because once you enter this world, you stay there forever.

He was ashamed to admit that he felt that it had always been too late for him, that there was no moment in his life when he could change something.

He fell asleep in the end and didn't wake up for several hours, tired and shaken; he shuddered when he heard his phone ring and reached for it quickly, thinking it might have been her again.

He swallowed hard, disappointed when he saw it was his grandfather and answered reluctantly, closing his eyes.

"Did everything go according to plan?" He asked.

"Yes."

"What were you doing in Heavenly Beach?"

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad.

Lie or tell the truth?

"Rhaenyra's daughter called me. Someone put a rape pill into her drink."

Silence answered him for a moment, from which he felt a discomfort in his stomach.

"Aemond –" His grandfather began. "– this is the last time you interfere in their affairs. Do you understand?"

He looked ahead, biting his lower lip so hard that he felt the taste of his own blood on his tongue, his throat squeezed so tightly that he felt like he had stopped breathing.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes."

[dragon-creates]

@angelxd-3303's Mario au has taken over my life in the best way possible, so I’ve got some headcanons that have been spinning in my head for a while and wanted to share. (Some of the ones with Mario are based on my dad.)

The first time Bowser saw Luigi be reckless and try and pet a piranha plant, he picked him up like a mama cat picking up a kitten by the scruff of its neck.

Mario used steal borrow VHS tapes of Disney movies and watch them with Luigi on an old TV he managed to fix up. (Luigi’s favourite was beauty and the beast.)

Luigi and Daisy are actually childhood friends and she decided to go look for him when he and Mario went missing. She arrived in Sarasaland through the pipe and after defending it from Tatanga, and finding Mario and Luigi, the citizens of that desert kingdom decide to make her their princess. “Wait, I’m a princess now?....aaaahhhhh!!!!” Yeah, she kind of freaked out a little bit.

Despite how warm it is in the Darklands, Luigi still gets chilled quite easily, so Bowser is more than happy to keep him warm.

(This is based off my dad) Mario LOVES Taylor Swift, specifically her more country themed songs and constantly belts them out. Peach thinks its adorable, Luigi is begrudgingly used to it after listening to Mario’s singing for years.

Contrary to everyone’s beliefs, DK prefers strawberries to bananas.

Kamek and Peach get together to gossip with each other and talk about the latest fashion trends. Sometimes they bicker about who should get the best dresses for Luigi.

(Based off my dad again) Mario loves to knit, whenever winter comes round, he loves for everyone. He’s knitted little scarfs for the toads, a sweater dress for Peach, a jumper for Luigi, a blanket for Bowser (due to him being a reptile and cold-blooded) and gloves for DK. He even knits the ugliest Christmas sweaters for everyone when the holiday comes around.

The first time Luigi wore a dress was when he was five. It was a Belle dress that Daisy got him (since she knew beauty and the beast was his favourite movie) but the moment Giovanna found him wearing it, he made Luigi throw it in the trash while Aurora stood there and watched, wanting to intervene but couldn’t find it within herself to go against her husband. Luigi let Mario hold him as he cried.

The second time Luigi wore a dress was when he was captured by Bowser and dressed as Princess Peach to help Bowser practice with his proposal. He loved it so much that Kamek took note to make a green one for outside of rehearsals.

When the koopalings are playing a video game with a really hard level, they always get Luigi to help them finish it.

Peach and Daisy invite Wendy around for a regularly scheduled girls’ night and play dress-up together, do make-up and nails and watch the sappiest rom coms. Mario joins in occasionally, though he always cries when watching the movies.

Bowser used to have an alliance with King Boo after his father passed, but one day, before they got together, Luigi came to visit Bowser and the latter noticed the bruises and the tired look in his eyes, he tenderly lifts Luigi’s chin with his finger and asks, “Who did this to you?” (You know that classic trope.)  Luigi then explains how he tried to look for Mario and got trapped in a haunted mansion and tried to fight off the boos and their king. Bowser is enraged at the thought of the poltergeist hurting his closest friend and breaks off their alliance.

After King Boo finds out about that, he tries to hunt down Luigi. He gives the plumber and few scrapes, but before he could do any proper damage, Bowser is crouched over Luigi in an instant, protecting his from King Boo and demands that the ghost to not even look in his direction unless he wants to find out if he can die a second time.

Bowser is the type of guy that is “dad gets attached to a dog he doesn’t want” with Polterpup. This first time Luigi brings him home, the kids love the pup, but Bowser is a bit uneasy and jealous since he used to work with King Boo (even though Polterpup was controlled by the ghostly king), but overtime he comes to adore the pooch and spoils him with treats and toys.

Mario and Peach both wore dresses on their wedding day. Peach wore the most poofy, sparkly and pinkest wedding dress you could ever imagine (a pink version of the dress that Amy Adams wore in ‘Enchanted’) while Mario wore something close to the wedding dress from Odyssey.

There are times when Mario clings to Donkey Kong’s back and just buries himself in his fur because its so soft and warm and it makes him feel safe. However, DK doesn’t even feel Mario doing that and constantly thinks that the plumber is missing when really, he’s just fallen asleep clinging to his back.

Junior loves it when his uncle Mario throws him up into the air and catches him, as if he weighed at much as a basketball being sent soaring into the sky.

Since they were on the run, Luigi didn’t see Daisy since his parents left and only reunited when he and Mario started their business.

Peach’s favourite colour is the most specific shade of pink. Whenever you ask her, she always says that her favourite is a ‘sweet pea pink’.

(Another one based off my dad) a jackdaw bird sometimes flies into the garden of the mushroom palace and comes very friendly and close with Mario. He starts leaving food and water out for her and names her Peggy. She kind of becomes his ‘unofficial pet’.

(This one is based off me and my dad) Mario’s favourite movie growing up was ‘How To Train Your Dragon’ and introduced Luigi to it while they were still young. They grew up with the trilogy (they sobbed at the end of the third movie) until they fell throw the pipes.

Luigi glows whenever he’s happy, due to his thunderhand. Whenever he gets excited, he starts glowing like a star. Bowser finds it both adorable and beautiful.

Mia – Mario’s cat – was actually a stray when they found her. Once they took her in and nursed her back to health, they realised that she had a good temperament to be a therapy animal for Mario. They’ve been inseparable ever since. Both she and Polterpup are very close and love whenever their owners meet up so they can play.

Bowser reads to Luigi at night to help him sleep. Even if he wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, Bowser will always read to him until he feels safe enough to fall back to sleep.

Luigi is also an insomniac to whenever he can’t sleep, he bakes instead. Bowser found him one night taking cookies out the oven, picked him up and carried him back to bed.

This is all I’ve got for now, there might be more soon. I hope ya’ll like them.

[fandomnerd9602]

Jackie Skellington, the Pumpkin Queen approaches Y/N…

She pulls out one of her ribs and hands it to Y/N…

Jackie: wanna bone? (Laughs)

Y/N: you’re terrible

Jackie: i didn’t make you afraid?

Y/N: the only scary thing for me is losing you

Jackie hugs Y/N as Zero the ghost dog flies in circles around them…

Art generated in GenZArt app

[thatsthat24]

Sanderstober 2022

Upon request (and because you're all amazing at them), I have a NEW Sanderstober art prompt list for you this year! Feel free to do one, some, or all of these prompts for October! Take em in any order you feel & use the hashtag #Sanderstober2022 if you’d like me to see your creations! Hope you all have fun with these if you take em on!! 🎨 

Day 1: Starting out with a traditional classic, take a character from media or OC and draw how they look on September 30th vs. how they look on October 1st. 

Day 2: Time to shine the light on the articles of clothing we all love to bust out in the fall, by CHOOSING one of those items and making a monster based on it!

Day 3: It is announced, beyond all reason, that they’re going to add a NEW suit to the deck of cards, in addition to hearts, clubs, diamonds, and spades. Disregarding how much this would destroy the structure of most card games, what is this new suit called and what does it look like??

Day 4: Centaurs are half-man, half-horse. Draw another kind of fantastical creature, that’s half-man, half ANOTHER kind of animal! - Idea from Dominic!

Day 5: Take a typical children’s nursery rhyme… and create a thriller poster based off of it…

Day 6: Design Challenge - create a stylish look (clothes, makeup, whatever you like) based off a candy of your choice!

Day 7: There’s a Pokemon based off almost everything. But not everything. Take a random object, animal, etc. that a Pokemon hasn’t been based off yet… and create one, complete with a corresponding name!

Day 8: Take any piece of Western animation and re-imagine it in anime form. - Inspired by an idea from Dominic!

Day 9: Take any traditional Halloween monster and think about what TikTok challenge they probably would take on. Doesn’t even have to be a real one! 

Day 10: A dabbling in minimalism. Take one or several characters from one of your favorite pieces of media, and try to depict them using only simplistic shapes. See if you can get people to guess the characters or show/movie/video game from the shapes and color schemes. 

Day 11: Always a fave prompt of mine - depict a pleasant fall-related memory of yours using solely fall-related colors (red, orange, yellow, brown, etc.)

Day 12: What if Halloween took place at another time of the year than Fall?? How might the holiday look different? Are there any traditions that might change? Any imagery? Any houses decorated differently??? Depict any aspect of the holiday that may look different!

Day 13: Another fave of mine - Take ANY Disney character and depict what they might look like as a superpowered individual in the Marvel universe.

Day 14: It happened again. This time, they announced a NEW chess piece that would be added to the game of chess. Why are they doing this?? Once again, disregarding how much of a wrench this throws into the gameplay of chess, WHAT does this new piece look like? What is it called? And how does it move on the board? 

Day 15: Re-imagine any Halloween monster or thriller movie baddie… as a character in a fantasy world…

Day 16: Using just inspiration from items found in your kitchen, use them to create a flag for a new country - Idea from Tammy!

Day 17: Draw a dynamic duo in a dynamic couples costume (Jessie & James from Pokémon as the front and back half of a horse, etc) - Idea from Cambria!

Day 18: My first prompt where I can take Inspo from Our Flag Means Death! Take any character from pop culture who isn’t a pirate… and design what they might look like in a pirate universe. Basically… pirate-ify them.

Day 19: Taking inspiration from the Haunted Mansion paintings, where the top of the painting looks pleasant only to then pan down to show the situation is much more grim (give it a Google if you need a reference!), create your own version of one of those paintings! - Another idea from Cambria

Day 20: The return of a classic… take any character(s) from a piece of media and depict them in the style of a Tim Burton character. (Sorry, I just love what you all create with this prompt!)

Day 21: Take any social media app… and turn it into a person.

Day 22: Take any Halloween-esque or Fall-based item/imagery and depict it in the iconic style of a famous painter!

Day 23: Oh my god, they’re doing it again!! Out of the blue, Hasbro announces that Clue will now be adding a NEW guest to the game of Clue who will be joining all the other color-based guests. Why does this keep happening?? Please create this guest and what their colorful name shall be!

Day 24: Take a loved pet from any point in your life, and turn them into a MONSTER.

Day 25: Take one of the characters from our videos (or a character from another piece of your fave media if you prefer!) and draw them with an animal that you think matches them perfectly! - Idea from Cambria!

Day 26: I’m such a sucker for this prompt: Depict characters from one of your fave animated shows in the STYLE of another animated series

Day 27: Since this would probably make Remus happy… if it makes you comfortable, draw a nightmare you remember having in your life, and instead of it happening to you, depict it happening to Remus

Day 28: Since we did the opposite prompt earlier… take a superhero and depict who they’d be in any fairytale you think suits them…

Day 29: Take any Halloween/ Scary movie monster and draw a suit/dress/suitdress inspired by their style and color palette!

Day 30: At long last, it’s revealed, the reason behind ALL THESE ADDITIONS to traditional games (the fifth card suit, the new chess piece, the additional Clue guest) was ONE NEW EVIL MASTERMIND! Based on your past creations for Day 3, Day 14, and Day 23, draw what this mastermind looks like and give them a name!!!

Day 31: In typical end-of-the-month fashion, today’s prompt is all about celebrating the reason for the season, Halloween! This year, Halloween’s PR team wants you to come up with a new catchphrase/slogan for Halloween! Please create a Halloween sign/poster with the new phrase featured!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

[littlefreya]

I need this fluff in my life and so the heck do you!!

Getting matching PJs for you, Hen AND Kal!!

If my bestie needs fluff, I must comply!

Summary: Halloween is your favourite holiday, and frankly, it's quite an obsession of yours. However, seeing Henry and you just started dating, you are rather insecure and afraid of what he might think of you if he finds out...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (no description of body type or ethnicity)

Words: 1.3k

Themes: PG13, gooey fluff, insecurity, a new relationship, romance.

A/N: Not beta'd. Since it's an almost spooky season, I took the liberty of making this about Halloween 🎃 Special thanks to @agniavateira and @the-soot-sprite, who always encourage me to keep writing. Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed 🖤

🦇🎃👻 Spooky Season 👻🎃🦇

Halloween always held a special place in your heart. 

Every year as August kissed the sun goodbye and the first chill breeze of September drifted over your cheeks, the hunt for unique and creepy decorations would begin. There was no greater joy than turning your humble little pad into a haunted mansion and spending time with friends watching your favourite spooky films.

That is... Until Henry came along...

It wasn't that you didn't care for Halloween anymore. Quite the contrary, you couldn't wait for Autumn! For the first time in your life, you were about to share this special occasion with a boyfriend.

However, as days grew colder and the leaves on the tree outside your window fell golden to the ground, instead of feeling thrilled, you grew dreadfully insecure.

By October, you snuffed any mention of Halloween away. Fearing Henry would think your fixation was foolish, no decorations were purchased nor hung on your walls. And even when Henry randomly mentioned 'trick or treating', you heard yourself mutter, "who wants to go out on Halloween anyway? That's lame kids' stuff..."

And so... your obsession was buried under heaps of insecurity until the burning wick of your candle dwindled and died.

On the night of Hollows Eve, all you wanted to do was go home and lay snuggled on the sofa with Henry until the night was over. You decided to spend that time together not celebrating Halloween.  

Heading home from work, you kept your eyes vacant, not daring a glimpse at the children and teenagers who ran about in their costumes. You convinced yourself you didn't care for it anymore, when deep inside, you couldn't help but feel a needle in your heart every time you passed through a glowing jack o' lantern who leered at you from a neighbour's doorstep.

"Henry, I am home!" 

You declared as you finally unlocked the door. 

Oddly, the light was off.  

"Umm... Henry where..."

A flash of bright blue light blinded your sight, followed by a rumbling thunder that boomed angrily in your ears.

Confused and unable to see anything, you sought for the light switch in the dark when another lightening painted the house in pale icy shades. This time, the thunder accompanied a low, growly evil laughter with a familiar timbre.

"We've been expecting you..." 

Still in the dark, you heard someone click his fingers. At the little snap, a dozen little glowing tears of light lit your apartment in a dim orange glow.

Still hazy from the abrupt change, you rubbed your eyes and took a better look before a loud gasp of wonder escaped your lips. When you left home for work this morning, your apartment still looked like a mundane IKEA catalogue. The last thing you expected was to return to one of the dungeons hidden in Dracula's castle.  

Instead of naked white walls, you faced pitted bricks of grey stone cloaked by cobwebs and a dozen antique-looking candlesticks holding tall lamps that were made to look like candles. Smoke-wafting caldron stood upon the table, surrounded by plump pumpkins and several trays abundant with an assortment of sweets, including cookies that were made to look like green zombie fingers, bats and evil skulls. 

Astonished, you turned in your spot with your mouth agape, uncertain what to focus on first. Even the once-flat ceiling was remodelled as a blanket of pillowy clouds replaced the surface. Stringed flapping rubber bats hung from the top, and as you peered down, you spotted bloodied footprints all over the floor.  

"I thought the place could use a bit of redecoration..." 

Stepping from the corner, Henry finally appeared, donning a furry werewolf onesie and pointy rubber ears covered with shaggy grey hair. His beard was overgrown, the rounded tip of his nose tinted black, and the piercing sapphires that glanced at you so proudly were rimmed by black as well. 

In a passing thought, you mused that it was unfair that he wore eyeliner better than any other woman you knew!

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you managed a word, Henry pointed a finger in the air, "wait, that's not all!" He chimed, "Kal, to me!" 

Prancing through the corridor, the chunky bear-of-a-dog rapped with a playful greeting bark. Just like his master, the four-legged pal was wearing a matching furry onesie.

The pointy rubber ears covered his own, although there was no need for them. You wanted to laugh at the silliness of the situation, but once you breathed, you sensed the unmistakable sting in your eyes, and soon your sight became blurry. 

As Henry’s noticed your glossy eyes, his brow creased with concern. Rushing towards you, he grasped your forearms and lowered his head to get a better look at your face. 

"My love? What’s wrong?”

Tears kissed your cheeks but only for a moment. The back of your hand swept them away before you sprang a smile between quivering lips. “You did this?” You swayed your gaze across the room to gesture, “all of this for me?”

Henry’s concern faded into a soft grin. Tenderly, he leaned in to kiss your brow, his hands squeezing your forearms slightly firmer, “of course I did.”

Kal barked at his response, which made Henry instantly correct, “well, Kal, the ‘were-bear’ helped too.”

The dog barked again, tapping his paw on the floor in protest. 

“And…. the art department of Netflix,” Henry mumbled quickly.

Cheeks still damp, you giggled and knelt, planting a tender kiss on Kal’s snoot. “Thank you, Kal.”

Henry’s glance warmed your neck, admiration filling his heart as he saw you - his girl, tearing in childlike joy. It had only been six months, though secretly, he already knew; he could spend a lifetime bringing a smile to your face, and just as this thought resonated in his mind, he remembered he hadn’t even finished unveiling all his surprise.

“Hang on. There is more!” He called and rushed to fetch a small bag hidden behind the sofa. 

Smiling with anticipation, you peered inside, pleasantly surprised to find another werewolf onesie to match his and Kal's, so now the three of you can wear matching pyjamas. 

“Only werewolves get to join Halloween celebrations this year…”

“Shouldn’t you bite me first in order to turn me?” You suggested with a quirk of an eyebrow while fishing the outfit from the bag. 

“The night is young…” Henry responded and then leaned in. His breath blew hot against your neck as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, and with a growl, he uttered, “I plan to do plenty of biting…”

But as he drew back, all whimsical and wickedness faded. Like the ocean kissed by the sun, his eyes sparked, the gleam of the dozen ‘candlelight’ reflecting in it while he offered a deep glance. 

“Why did you pretend not to care about it? All your friends told me how much time you spent every year getting ready…” His palm reached your nape, thumb grazing the length of your spine affectionately to reassure you. 

You looked away, both ashamed of your pretence but also at what you thought he’d find as a foolish fixation, “I didn’t mean to lie or anything, I was just afraid…”

“Of what?” His thumb further caressed your skin, sensing how the hair stood on the back of your neck.

“I was afraid you’d think I am weird.”

“You are weird,” he exclaimed and shrugged, “that’s why I love you.”

Hearing his words made your heart skip. Once again, the tears tickled your eyes. Inadubly, you mouthed, “thank you” as the words couldn't make their way through your clenching throat.

Henry’s hand moved from your nape to your cheeks and gently so, wiped away your tears. “Now go and change, darling, because like I said, only werewolves can join the celebration.”

Nodding, you snatched the bag from his grasp and hurried to change your outfit. That night and every night since, the 31st of October became the most important date of in the Cavill Household, where each time, both Henry and you sought creative ways to top the last year's celebration.

With the help of Kal, of course!

[weaselbeaselpants]

Welp, all that being said abt Jenny herself notwithstanding, even without her input that god awful Star Wars hotel looks like hell to me.

Like, I could not imagine a person (or worse a child) with my kind of autistic overstimulation problem, and I'm talking one who likes or even LOVES Star Wars, having actual fun in that place.

To give you an idea, I LOVE Disney and Nightmare Before Christmas a lot especially, but I hate [being at] Disney parks. I hate social events and am asocial (working on it). Being surrounded by my hyperfixation is not comforting for me when I'm in a high-energy place where people are making me be social about said hyperfixation and practically shoving it in my face to get me to interact. I got to prepare myself for things like that and things like that I only do for other people. I can't keep up. I get stressed out. I literally have nightmares about this stuff. If there was a hotel of some kind of immersive TNBC thing I would hate it. I already hated going on Haunted Mansion Holiday.

Watching any promo of the hotel and video taken on the Galactic Starcruiser makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me think of this video I saw on a "so cute" compiliation that made me sad, where parents got their kids in the car happily said "we're going to Disneyworld =D!!" expecting a fun reaction and then suddenly the boy being filmed goes "we need to talk about this- WE WERE GONNA TALK ABOUT THIS" unbuckles and runs back into the house terrified. Unless it was one of those ab*sive family channels, I feel so bad for that kid and I really hope that served a lesson for those parents that some kids don't like ANY surprises and not to do that to him ever again. When I was a kid I couldn't actually communicate just how much I hated being at Disneyland and that just made it even worse. It made me feel like I was the problem; like I didn't fit.

Kevin, Jenny and other themepark bloggrs like Yesterworld ARE the disney adults this shit is made for and the fact that their reviews are so scathing and they have trouble keeping up or making any light out of this, that's what's telling to me. I look at my mom and other adults trying to figure out how these awful broken apps work and feeling the need to give all their money to Disney because they didn't have to do that before-- it makes me genuinely very mad. I think especially about the grandparents and non-tech savy folks who are struggling with it- like a non-english speaking grandparent trying to use the apps and magic bands for the sake of their kid, being texted "just use the app gran!" when the tech is clearly broken, and said grandparent crying cuz they can't even sit down to collect themselves at this god-awful immersive theme park. I feel for that person who I'm pretty sure is real somewhere. They're like me and they're like that kid in that aformentioned video: they can't keep up. They feel like a burden. So much for you happiest place on earth.

--AND THEN, you wind up paying 6,000 dollars +all the extras that come with it. My adult brain is frying. Disney should reimburse EVERYONE for what they made non-tiktok influencers go through. What they're still making guests go through.

[yuurei20]

Interview with Composer Ozawa Takumi from the Twst Fanbook (pt 11/11)

"Interviewer: Have you always liked Disney movies?

Ozawa: Yes! I love the bewitching 'Aladdin', and how fun its songs are. I was shocked by 'Maleficent', which changed my view of villains entirely. I also like Tim Burton's 'The Nightmare Before Christmas', also because it is bewitching and the parts that pull at your heart strings. I have collected a lot of Jack Skellington merchandise.

Interviewer: Do you go to the theme parks?

Ozawa: I loved the 'Haunted Mansion’s Holiday Nightmare' with Jack during Halloween. I used to go once a month. I would arrive at the park in the morning and craft a strategy for visiting all the attractions and things in the most efficient way before it closed.

Interviewer: Are you a villainous person yourself (laughs)?

Ozawa: I sympathize with and am drawn to villains because I scare easily and have no self-confidence. Also because they each have their own reasoning for what they do, their own circumstances and their own sense of justice. Whether it is right or wrong varies by situation. It can be hard to know if the 'righteous' side is really that 'righteous' at all.

Interviewer: A word to your fans!

Ozawa: Thank you for all the enthusiastic feedback on SNS. Everyone’s encouragement is what keeps me going. I am so happy to hear that there are people learning to play the songs by ear.

I think Twst can make you feel like you're at Disneyland without ever leaving your home. That's how I feel when I write songs for it. If you have never tried the game, I would be happy if you could try approaching it as if it’s another Disney theme park."

[agentnatesewell]

tremendous tasks, dear friends

the wayhaven chronicles | barbara robertson (f!detective) / nate sewell / mason + family (lucas daniels) | 5k words | rated G

happy holidays to @delucadarling on this twelfth night and epiphany eve! i have simply fallen in love with barbie and had such a wonderful time writing for her for the @wayhavensecretsanta

.🎄.

Within the forested woods surrounding a deceptively inconspicuous town, one brimming with holiday cheer and festive wishes, bustling with last-minute preparations of a yuletide celebration for humans and supernaturals alike, sits a dilapidated building. A relic of a time ago, thought abandoned and unbothered, hiding a veiled mansion beyond its crumbling facade. 

In this warehouse, now as familiar as home, Barbara Robertson - detective or agent depending on when and who one asks - sits in the center of the living room elegantly dressed for the season. One last task, a final check-in, for the next day’s Wayhaven Christmas Fete remains, and her trusted Filofax is set securely nearby, traded for a cup of steaming, glasses-fogging drinking chocolate. Hands warming against the gold rimmed and whimsically painted precious porcelain, she shifts her attention from event planning to listening, intently, of past traditions once forgone and now renewed. 

In this living room, now his home, Nathaniel Sewell - agent and acting commanding agent, a temporary promotion until their team leader returns from a self assigned important mission - sits adjacent, on the floor with long legs tucked beneath him; sweeping his hand over carefully laid materials, collected from the nature surrounding them, on the ivory lace-embroidered cloth covered coffee table. He picks out a hard confection from a glass jar in the middle of the table, passes it to her then reminisces, “My earlier days, when I was with my family, during the Advent period before Christmas Day, my brother and I would spend the morning hours collecting what we could on our grounds. Not dissimilar to what we’ve found on our strolls in town and the community garden this autumn.” 

Long branches of holly from the gardens, deepest green leaves with sharp, curved edges, clusters of bright, reddest berries; vines of ivy growing along on the outer stone of their home, long stems dense with lined green and white leaves; hardy sprigs of rosemary from their kitchen window garden, fragrant and robust; precious bundles of mistletoe, from the town’s nursery, with pretty pearlescent white berries; and perhaps his most prized possession of the season, from a bespoke shoppe, a singular pear sitting on a bed of gold foil. 

“Are you making a wreath,” she inquires, leaning closer to the greenery. Fingers already occupied with proffered candy instinctively seek her pencil, and blindly slide behind her ear, in case there is need to write any pertinent information of this tradition. As she inspects, Barbie notices there isn’t any sort of evergreen present that she’d become accustomed to with modern wreaths, though perhaps Nate had used all he could find to festoon along the fireplace mantle, perhaps all the evergreen in Wayhaven and the surrounding forest. 

“A Christmas Bough.” The corners of his eyes crinkle as a smile plays at the corner of his mouth, voice trailing and he falls into a fog of nostalgia, happy memories returning to overshadow those which usually haunt him. As his thoughts fade, Nate chances a glance at Barbie, and he is pulled back into the present. For behind a curling strand of her blond hair, fallen away from her gilded claw clip, peeks a twist of red and white, and the scent of peppermint. The pencil which is usually there in her hand, in peril of becoming her drink stirrer. 

“Barbie?” 

“Nate?” The abrupt change in his tone, now alarmed, draws Barbie away from her study. She looks up towards him, green eyes peering over her red plaid-rimmed glasses, taking note at how amusement highlights the honeyed hues of his brown eyes, and how he’s closing the already narrow gap between them, brows raised questioningly and silently awaiting permission to come closer.  

And it is easy for her to grant him such permission, as Nate is always so careful, comforting, safe, even in this spontaneity, and Barbie is quite curious what it is that has attracted his attention. 

The brush of his thumb across her cheek, his fingers curling at her temple and over the shell of her ear prove far more exhilarating than any spice and sugar rush incurred during the holiday season. Nate chuckles, deep and resonating, just as silver bells sing, and he pulls away, his palm open. “You might find that peppermint candy complements the dark chocolate of your beverage far more than your pencil might.” 

“What,” Barbie looks at her cup, pencil between the rim and its high handle, and groans. “Oh my god.” Shaking her head, she drops the utensil with a sharp laugh. “Guess I needed this break. Helping Tina organize the Fete  at the station this year is keeping me busier than I imagined. Especially with all of,” she waves her hand, “this.”

Nate knows she is referencing her continued training with the Agency and on-call, standby assistance for the Wayhaven Police Department’s local cases - taking a holiday encouraged, always, during their sporadic diners at the local bistro - but does hope she has been enjoying the past week spent transforming their, in his opinion, humble home into a Christmas wonderland so expertly designed, it would rival the most elegant department store displays. And though Adam and, by order, Unit Bravo, had been convinced by Nate’s suggestion of team building exercises, Barbie has been enjoying herself. Excitement casting her in gold and silver radiance, she is even more breathtaking, indulging herself in the season. Dressed in themed ensembles, time made and spent introducing Farah to popcorn tins and Christmas themed movies, baking and icing so many cookies, decorating while singing tunes so delightful, he has been humming them both in tandem and alone. 

Regardless, Barbie deserves empathy and understanding, and a second candy cane. “May I say that the Fete has been coming along quite nicely, and will surely be memorable for years to come.” 

“You may,” she accepts his compliment, allowing her fingers, nails painted to resemble ribbon tied gift wrap, to just barely glide along his as she accepts the candy. To avoid a repeat of a near miss, Barbie stirs her drinking chocolate with the straight side of the candied stick, inhaling the melding scents as the steam rises and evaporates into the air. “Thank you, Nate.” 

Pleasant moment aside, and desperately needing the embarrassing moment aside, Barbie points the candy cane, melting end, at the table. “Tell me about your Christmas Bough. I thought it was called a Kissing Bough?” 

Nate nods. “You’re correct. Formally, these were called Christmas Boughs, and traditionally, Kissing Boughs. Every year, from when we could carry in ash wood or willow wood branches, our bough would adorn the doorway to our drawing room, welcoming our guests for the many parties held during the twelve days post Christmas. Usually family, many cousins, family friends.” 

Barbie places her cup on the table, resting her elbow on the edge, listening intently once more. The cadence of his voice again melodic, a nostalgic recitation in celebration of a life passed instead of a sorrow of a life lost. 

“One modern convenience this year.” Nate points to a neat stack of green craft wire, set opposite of the shining pear. “Bending curved tree branches into circles is much easier these days, but I would like to focus more on this particular foliage” 

“Do they hold any meaning?” She asks, knowing too well that rarely does Nate take on a task casually. 

“Holly,” Nate works as he speaks, nimble hands still familiar with the process from centuries ago, tying the branches together with the wire, a blur of green and red repeating until creating a circle. “Everlasting life.”

The irony is not lost on Barbie. By how Nate blinks his eyes, an attempt to keep them clear, she knows it’s not lost on him, either. But then he clears his throat, shapes his mouth back into a smile, and transfers the rest of the holly branches and half of the wire to the space in front of her. An offer to join him, and she obliges; observing and enamored by his hands, mirroring his motions to create a second circle. 

“Ivy,” Nate continues, “dependence and endurance. Rosemary, remembrance.” Running the tip of a finger along the leaves, breathing in the released fragrance, he takes a deep breath. Another breath. 

As silence grows, the bough making process is acknowledged as a memorial by them both. When her half is complete and returned to him, Barbie lays a hand on Nate’s shoulder. Immediately, she feels him relax, and this time the deep breath is an exhalation. When he turns to her, his smile is genuine, grateful for her grace. “Thank you. My apologies, for my sentimentality.” 

“What about the mistletoe?” She squeezes his shoulder, and hopes the question cheers him up. 

“Ah, mistletoe.” Nate lifts a bundle for himself, a second one for Barbie. She keeps it for herself. “A good luck charm. One could, during the celebratory period, greet their guests or each other for a kiss. A suitor could kiss the one they wished to court, on the cheek, and we did make sure all parties were in accordance. All would hope to be kissed, lest they endure the bad luck of being left out. There was a limit, as with every kiss, a berry would be picked. When all was gone, the kissing ceased.” He chuckles, picking a single spray which had fallen out of place. “Milton’s pockets would be full by night’s end, as he was rather outgoing and effortlessly charming.”

Barbie plucks a gem-like berry to roll between her fingers, twisting her lips as her gaze shifts towards Nate, finding he has done the same. It comes as a surprise to them both, a happy and quite welcome surprise, when Barbie closes the space between, kissing Nate’s cheek. Drawing away, she puts the berry in his palm. “There, now you have one, too.” 

Behind a second, cordial-ish, exchange, through the doorway of this living room which has yet to bear the meaningful ornament of greeting, shaking bruising snowflakes off the jacket he’s worn during his overnight patrol of the town - stubborn to accept the order to dress weather-appropriately from their temporary leader, until an approving hum from Barbie, he will keep to himself that he did not mind the shearling-lined leather moto jacket that kept him from freezing - Mason grimaces at the warm welcome of glittering ornaments, the droning and inescapable music repeating too many damn times, and the strong and tangled scents of cassis, eucalyptus, white musk, and pine. 

Thick blankets of snow keep him from his reprieve on the rooftop, and if it was any other season besides one that compels humans to decorate their homes with garish and gaudy blinking lights, corral them into the streets to sing in groups, he would volunteer to take the next patrol. But it isn’t wholly terrible, though. In the living room he can wait for Barbie to tie up any loose-ends, as she’d called them, with her next-day festival preparation; maybe Nate will help her, and Mason can retreat to the quietest and dimmest corner of the room to look out the window and watch the hidden parts of the forest, untouched by merry well-wishers. 

Her voice cuts through his annoyance, happier he knows but unsure how to tell. She sounds like she did the other day as he watched her hang monogrammed stockings over the fireplace, Nate explaining some change, some rise and fall in her sound, more cheerful. When he hears Barbie laugh, the tension in his body fades, and the abrasive reminders of the season taunting his senses fall into the background. Mason sheds his coat, rubbing his hands over his arms to avoid losing too much heat too fast, and follows a conversation to the middle of the room, in front of the couch and on the floor.  

Too far to perch on the arm of the velvet armchair, where he’s most comfortable when Barbie is around, he instead sits on the edge of the coffee table, angling away from the herbs and plants invading his senses. Any other time the seemingly innocuous rosemary would have him retreating, but she turns to him. And Barbie is fucking - glowing. Mason blinks, wondering if his retinas are taking longer to heal from the morning’s snow glare than usual. Still glowing with a pink tint to her cheeks, and damnit if that halo around her doesn’t make him think of that angel on top of their second Christmas tree, and damnit that he’s lost the cool edge to his entrance. 

“Elf got your tongue, sunshine?” Barbie asks, smoothest he’s ever seen her, at least with a candy cane between her teeth. 

In his periphery, Mason spots a small bundle of leaves and the plant is easily identifiable. Cheap, plastic replicas in abundance at the previous night’s party in some sort of garden dome when he’d walked through the park on his route. He swipes a sprig and twirls it, answering, “Wouldn’t mind you catching my ton-”

“Hello, Mason,” Nate sighs, tying what is left of the mistletoe together. “How was your patrol?”

Giggling teenagers and metal scraping at the ice rink and the entire town smells of vanilla, chocolate and sugar, that flashing robotic Santa waving in the air are all enough to keep anything interesting from happening; too chaotic to focus any magic, too much of a headache to get up to any trouble. Mason shrugs, “Same old.” 

Settled, finally giving notice to whatever Nate and Barbie are actually doing, Mason juts his chin in the direction of the circles of holly. “You aren’t done decorating this place yet?” 

“It’s a Kissing bough,” Barbie explains, rising to her knees to meet Mason. Nate subtly coughs the alternative ‘Christmas bough’, likely as a means to keep the atmosphere light and less hot, less heavy - wholesome! “When you’re under, you give a kiss, and get a reward.” She leans in, one hand on his thigh and he grins, arm slinking around her waist, ready for a knock-her-tights-off kind of kiss. But instead of her mouth, his is met with a waxy, tasteless and not sticky clump of berries. “It’s not up yet, Mason.” Smiling, having amused herself, she sits at the coffee table once more, awaiting Nate’s next instruction. 

“You’re welcome to join us, if you would like to thread this wire through the pear.” Nate knows he is pushing Mason’s good will and willingness to participate in any more decorating, yet persists with his inclusion. “This should be our final project.” 

“Wait! One more!” 

From a flash of purple and a cloud of glitzing gingerbread scents and mirth, attention is captured towards the fir and cedar garlanded mantle in this living room, and standing between a cozy, crackling fire and the main Christmas tree, eight feet all and so elegantly adorned, skirt at the base holding exquisitely wrapped gifts, is Farah Hauville - home from one last visit to the Christmas Tree Lot at the edge of town for the season before taking over agent patrol for the rest of the day - standing atilt, resting an elbow on the top branch of a small, a quite small pine tree. 

Amber eyes sparkling with triumph, Farah sweeps her hand out in an arc, resting it on her hip. “Ta da! What do you all think? Natey, Barbie? Mason.” 

Not just quite small, the tree is rather sparse. Uneven weight distribution, inconsistent branch thickness and needle distribution - some thick with vibrant needles while others rather pale and almost white, some with just tufts at the end. A lone pinecone sits towards the base, and there may have been a debate if the bird’s nest fell or broke apart. 

Nate stands, stepping slowly and surely to the tree, mind whirling as he thinks of how to express his thoughts; keep Farah from being crestfallen, express his gratitude for her enthusiasm, how to hide the tree in plain sight and preferably outside. “Certainly a unique tree,” he manages, “though, I do wonder if it would be better suited in the hallway. Could be set in an urn outside of your bedroom door and we can bedeck after your shift - wrap a strand of fairy lights, drape tinsel, use the rest of the ribbon.”

“Knew you’d say that,” Farah replies, bouncing, “This tree has been in that lot since it opened, and no one has given it a chance! A second look! I know it’s not pretty, it doesn’t match the other trees we brought home. It’s not perfect,” Farah flails her arms, pointing to the three other trees in the room that could have been portraits in a magazine. “But it deserves love, doesn’t it? Like the great philosopher, Linus, said.” 

“Linus? I’m not familiar with their work.” Nate pokes at a dull needle with this index finger. “Unless you mean Linus of Thrace, the musician.”

Barbie soon joins, shadowed by Mason, and circles the tree to study it. “‘Charlie Brown Christmas’. Farah and I watched while you read ‘The Gift of the Magi’.”  

“You were even playing the song the next day,” Farah remarks, miming him at the piano. He nods in response, fingertips brushing along the edge of a healthier branch. She continues her plea, turning to throw her arms out, wide and dramatic, and quotes, “‘I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It’s not bad at all. Maybe it just needs a little love.’”

“Farah,” Nate rubs the back of his neck, knowing she’d likely practiced her speech during her last few patrols about town. The tree truly does not fit in with the well planned out, specific aesthetic of the room but he is moved by her effort, her passion. “I can promise to find space for it. In here.” 

To the great shock of everyone, Mason grabs a smooth, circular red ornament from the main tree, fixes it to a sagging branch on the new addition. He comments before Nate can protest, “I like it. It’s irregular, obviously intended by nature to be so. Has character. Leave it where it is, at least it’ll be something interesting to look at.”

Barbie stops pacing, following Mason’s lead, with a green ornament she hangs on an opposite, slightly lighter branch. Just a little trimming, tinsel and lights and ribbon, and this tree could truly be special. One of a kind. Its own new tradition. 

It gives her an idea. 

Leaving the others to discuss re-arrangement, Barbie walks back to sit on an empty space of the coffee table to consult the ‘CF’ section of her Filofax.  A layout of the main room of the Christmas Fete is centered by a hallway length runner rug with tables at either side for Haley’s hot cocoa and treats station, beginning at an entry arch and a dais at its end. On the side of the page, the cast. Elves - Len’s kid and Douglas, Mrs. Claus - Tina, Santa Claus - Lucas, making his debut.  

Lucas, her beloved brother and subject of her final, most important task - confirming his, and Adam’s, flight details and estimated arrival. Barbie checks the time, and tapping her phone screen she notes alerts from his airline. Five minute delay, ten minute delay, confirmation of arrival, a text from him. 

Another hour or two from the city, and Barbie and Lucas will be reunited after far too long apart - and she can hardly wait! Smiling to herself, singing to herself that song from their childhood Christmas pageant, Barbie pencils in a small tree in the space between Mrs. and Santa Claus. She calls to the group, asking Farah, “Could you bring this Charlie Brown Tree to the Fete tomorrow? It’s just the right size, wouldn’t be in Lucas and Tina’s way. Added bonus, the people in town seeing what they missed out on, how a little love goes a long way.”   

Nate places a hand to his chest, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Barbie. Farah claps hers in excitement. “It would be an honor! I’m going to get Nate’s decoration box and get this little guy ready for the show! I’ll drop it off at the station.” Taking a hold of the tree at its base, Farah lifts it like a piece of paper and runs off and out of the room. And it is a testament to Nate’s reflexes and agility that he catches the two ornaments shaken off, and returns them to their home. 

A ring of Barbie’s phone interrupts the calm in Farah’s wake. 

Video call, her mirror image on the screen and Barbie gives her glasses a quick adjustment before swiping her finger across the glass to answer. 

“Ho, ho, ho!” A voice bellows, and there is a grinning Lucas, dark brown hair expertly mussed under the brim of his vintage, thrift-shop treasure, red flannel and white wool Santa Hat. “Merry Christmas!”

Barbie waves, laughing, widening the camera view to show off the living room, then back to her. Nate greets Lucas, unsure where to stand and if he can even see him, moves to lean over Barbie’s shoulder where the pocket of his brown leather jacket fills the display. His own cellular phone rings and he excuses himself to answer. Mason shakes his head, and, arms folded, walks to settle on the edge of the couch.

Back to Lucas, and now Barbie spots a twinkling flash against the red of his hat, one more, behind him white snow flurrying and thickening with each passing second. His voice muffled, harsh streaks of wind silencing him, though she can pick up the unmistakable and clear, deep accent of Adam Du Mortain, calm and authoritative.

There is a leaden, sinking feeling in her stomach. 

“Snow squall,” she finally hears, and when did Lucas move? Blurred behind the camera lens, he has found shelter inside the doors of the airport. Fellow travelers behind him converge into small groups, collective voices rising in confusion and frustration relaying the news to their loved ones. Airplanes had been taking off and landing, no imminent threat of weather. “Barbie, roads are closed, don’t know when they’ll open. Promise I’ll be home as soon as I can, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to make the Fete tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay,” she answers, nodding, glancing around the room to find Nate speaking animatedly and Mason watching snow swirling outside. “Just stay safe, Luke, alright? Keep me updated. Is Adam with you?” 

“Ordering the weather to behave,” he chuckles, attempting to keep her spirits from crashing. “Look, Barbie, I’m sorry.”

Trying to formulate a plan, alternatives and logistics, how to inform Tina, Barbie doesn’t respond until she hears her name again. She shakes her head, “It’s alright. Take your time. We will figure this out. Don’t do anything hasty or dangerous, you need to come home in one piece.” Barbie looks at the screen again, zoom tighter on Lucas, notices the same plush red and fluffy white at his shoulders. “Are you wearing your Santa costume?”

“If you’re going to travel for the holidays, you’ve got to travel in style and make a big entrance. Besides, someone has to spread holiday cheer amongst the masses.”

“Keep them distracted and don’t have too much fun. Again, stay safe. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

As she ends the call, Barbie consults her Filofax, searching for an answer. Surely, she wrote up a back-up plan for Santa, Mrs. Claus, and the Elves, and she did but Sung committed to the community Christmas Feast. She turns to a blank page, scribbles thoughts - Surely, Adam will take care of Lucas. Surely, Mrs. Claus could take the place of her husband, saying he needs a head start on his journey, the children could video-chat with him. 

“Barbie,” Nate’s voice is as understanding and gentle as his gait, taking a seat next to her, patting her back with a touch so light it does not register. He finds Mason, raising his brows and tilting his head and in seconds, Mason stands before them. “I spoke with Adam. Unexpected change of weather a few miles northwest of the city, might be due to magic gone awry, and does not appear to be malicious. Unit Golf has been dispatched to secure the situation, and Adam will be working with them. Bravo is on standby, but he feels this should be contained without our intervention.” 

Mason shrugs, Barbie is still writing in her organizer. 

Turning towards her, Nate’s smile is encouraging, “Now, you are in need of a Saint Nicholas for your Christmas Fete tomorrow. Do you have Lucas’ costume? He and I are of similar build and height, and I would be glad to stand in for him.” 

Barbie, facial muscles finally moving and her mouth falling into an unintentionally pretty pout, unlocks her phone, finds her text messages, and brings up a picture to show him, then Mason. Lucas, mid-laugh, Santa hat flopping to the side, Santa jacket open with a white shirt underneath, Santa trousers on underneath, standing with a not so stiff shouldered, slightly amused Adam in the midst of white and colored glistering lights. “Spreading so much cheer that he performed a holiday miracle, making Adam smile.”

Mason, concerned with the pallor of her skin and the dullness in her eyes, crouches down and pats his pockets, where his now banished cigarettes were once stored - to prevent a fire hazard in this room of shimmering, glimmering potential kindling - pulls out a package, a monstrosity, a little cake shaped like an evergreen tree, an emergency treat purchased at the convenience store. Smushed, and he decides there is no way he will let her raise her blood sugar with something that tastes like plastic. “Eat something if you’re going into figuring-out mode. Maybe not this, I’ll get you something that doesn’t look like reindeer vomit.” 

Nate, rubbing his bottom lip with this thumb, remembers the prior year’s Christmas celebrations. A truly magical time in this already magical town, every year healing from the tragedies at the start of their permanent tenure. He recalls a certain gentleman, an embodiment of the legend and a hero to each child, reading their name from a scroll and making them believe to be the most special. “Mr. Rockwell. He was treasured, and enjoyed the role.” 

“Retired. Out of town to visit his new grandchild.” Barbie taps her pencil against the cover of her Filofax. Nate’s mention of the Santa Claus of the past decade, of his generosity and love, his joy infectious, reminds her of a conversation - between Mr. Rockwell and his wife, Lucas and Tina, and her. A transition of tradition. 

“Wait.” Her eyes open wide, sparkling once more with another idea. “We are brilliant! Mr. Rockwell left us his suit, even though it was too short for Lucas, something about keeping the Christmas spirit. It should still be at the station, I’ll call Tina to confirm.” 

Once more in the middle of this living room, Mason returns to see two faces look at him expectantly, and though there is some he does not understand, he understands the faces of two schemers. Especially one who has talked him into decorating more than he ever thought he would in eternity, and one he would do just about any damn thing for. He shoves the cookie, on a napkin to avoid another lecture by Nate, towards Barbie. “Eat this. And what do you both want?”

“Tina said the Santa costume is at the station, and she’s running a lint roller over it to get rid of any dust. You’re about Mr. Rockwell’s height -”

“No.”

Nate makes a second attempt, honeyed words pleading, “for no more than two hours. It would mean so much to this town that has become our home. It would mean -”

“I’m not dealing with any little brat screaming in my ears about some presents.” 

“It would mean a lot to me,” Barbie finishes for Nate, flatly. “We will keep the kids calm, Nate and Farah will entertain them. Tina will talk to them, and you can just check their names against a roster and repeat their wish. Then take a picture with them.” 

“Nope. Besides, we’re supposed to be in the shadows.”

Nate nods, acknowledging that Mason is correct. The accessories, such as the full, white beard, may be uncomfortable for him, as well as the inevitable sounds which come with the excitement of children. It may not be such a fair ask, and there may be some other possibilities. “Babs, there may be some adjustments I can have made to the suit, to accompany the length of my arms and legs. The tailor in town, I am sure, is quite busy. I can, however, make a request with ours at the Agency.”

An attempt to speak comes out as a squeak, and Barbie throws her arms around Nate’s shoulders in a hug. “Thank you, Nate. Really. We should go now, and get to your tailor as soon as possible.” 

Mason, silver eyes sharp and observant, regards Barbie and he guesses she’s relieved, with the sharp exhale of breath, taking a bite of the cookie and writing down some last notes. There is an errant thump in his chest, and he rubs his palm against it. Then regards Nate, also exhaling a breath, longer, and his hands slide into his pockets, their refuge. 

And damnit, her smile is making his jaw tingle, and he stretches it to alleviate that sensation. Damnit, she is so fucking beautiful like this, merry and jovial. And, groaning, Mason drags his hand down his face, wrapping his fingers behind his neck. 

He thinks he might regret this for eternity, but then figures that being able to do what Nate is doing, make her glow like that again, so ecstatic? Maybe that’ll make an afternoon of misery worth everything. 

“Wait,” he reaches, finding Barbie’s hand, and pulls them both up. “You just have to promise to stay near me, alright, sweetheart?” 

Barbie’s mouth falls open, and she truly is stunned, frozen in place as she processes his answer. She then grins, thanking him with a kiss to his cheek. “You got it, Santa.” 

~

In the midst of hazing lights, luminous trees and the rising dawn of the Eve, there is a stir. In this living room, under a bough and honoring the custom of the mistletoe, a couple hushes each other between deep kisses and berry extraction. His senses are heightened once more, and he grumbles an announcement of visitors. She spies past the door and wishes, one small wish, that he will appear.

And to her delight, they are not just any visitors.

The commanding agent will claim this a completed, successful mission, but with a hearty and robust, “Merry Christmal to all!”, Lucas will say that with a little magic, he fulfilled his Christmas promise.

fin.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Could you possibly write about slenderman's ghost s/o trying to make the mansion festive for Halloween bc they're really excited for the holiday and never experienced it before? They have a list and everything as soon as they learn about the custom-

For instance, every room is decked out in decor totally not stolen, they make loads of themed treats, and try to engage the him and the proxies into doing multiple festive activities as well?

-slender anon <3 (sorry if this is too much exposition, tysm for all the cool writing)

Celebrating Halloween w/ Slenderman!

so so sorry for taking a a bit to get to this !! I meant to get this out tomorrow but I got distracted </3 still torn on if i want the mansion to exist in my au but for all intents and purposes we'll say it does for this >:) i might make the mansion like, some abandoned creepy haunted house in universe, like the house from IT or Nightmare on Elm Street (i actually... dont remember if it gets abandoned or not in the later movies, its been a while since i watched the series..) or something something yeah i think ill go with that for the mansion anyways enough rambling

Cue curious head tilts and questions from slenderman, he knows OF Halloween but he doesnt know all the ins and outs and intricacies when it comes to how its celebrated; best he knows is costumes and candy

initially watches you try to hang up all the decorations by yourself but eventually steps in to give you a hand

probably consults in you what basic Halloween traditions are, and probably also tries to ask the proxies if they know anything about it

i think outside of toby, the proxies don't really. remember much of their lives before becoming proxies, but that's because I'm basing my take on them off of the original MH where like, there's brain fog and the proxy/person are internally separate, but that's where inspiration from the original stuff ends; merging two fandoms together is. hard when the canon and fanon are so different

anyways

but also i never really like the creepypasta interpretation of masky and hoodie, at least from when i was in the fandom years back where they were shy and soft, but thats likely changed now- admittedly i dont interact with the fandom outside of creating

im rambling again, but i think masky and hoodie would also be a little lost but ready to do whatever they're told to do in regards to helping deck out the mansion

good news is that the mansion already looks like a spooky haunted house! especially on the outside since it's not as well kept as the inside

the inside is like what comes to mind when someone says old ass house; creaky wooden floors, shitty heating system, crawl spaces and compartments, that sort of thing. old enough that it would definitely have mold and rot, and be falling apart, if slenderman didnt come and keep it in tact

again, it already looks spooky enough as is, but decorations can really tie in the look

fake cobwebs, skeletons, spiders

oh those are real spiders

the mansion probably has spiders, slenderman cant do anything about the spiders sorry

okay anyways

treats! totally not stolen from some store by a teleporting entity that naturally distorts electronics! definitely not

he would make them with you, i think

i sometimes think about how slenderman would probably like calm and quiet activities, domestic ones included, so i think this is something he would actually end up loving especially with you around

learns he hates working with melted marshmallow, that shit is not banned from the mansion as well as marshmallow creme

he even gets those cute little halloween themed goodie bags so you can give them out

unfortunately he's going to have to pass, on account that he can't really eat any non-human meat food, but rest assured if he could safely eat your treats he would

Toby would be fucking that shit up, especially if you make those popcorn ball things. i feel like toby would love those. masky to me seems like a butterscotch haystack enjoyer to me (based), while hoodie fucks up those chocolate dipped pretzels, you know the ones that get decorated to look like mummies? those. he demolishes those (also based)

i kinda miss the popcorn balls tbh i havent had those in years but they were good from what i remember- i think i might make some this evening

moving on once more

if there's any extras slenderman may offer to take you around to give them to others

im still deciding character dynamics and relationships and who knows who in this funky au, but i feel like slenderman knows at least a handful of the other character. at least on a first name basis

so thats fun! you also get to share the joy with characters such as splendor and trender, and perhaps even jeff. i hc that eyeless jack and slender are both in the same forest but not like. buddy buddy. but he can get goodies too. ignore the fact jack is in the same boat as slender in terms of what he can and cant eat- he appreciates the gesture

now activities! i gotta admit i never really did halloween stuff outside of trick or treating; so im a little stumped on ideas

theres the obvious, pumpkin carving (the pumpkin insides get used to make more treats!), apple bobbing, and a few others

while not really a halloween game, you guys probably play a few games in the woods

thats

wait no thats terrifying, do not play hide and seek/tag with them in the woods regardless of if its night time and regardless of if youre a ghost, that shit actually sounds terrifying esp since i think slenderman and hoodie would get WAY TOO competitive

oh scary stories

definately

you insist on summoning ghosts and demons to fit the vibe

" but Dear, you're a gho-" "hush"

you guys accidentally summon one of the ghost creepypastas or something/j

you guys accidentally summon zalgo and halloween gets cancelled'j

idk if this is just a me thing but whenever me and my friends sit down to read creepypasta stories we get derailed and somehow end up reading fanfics and acting them out but i can see this happening as well; though this one also isnt a halloween exclusive activity

overall its a learning experience for most of you guys, and slenderman is totally up to humoring you again next year!

oh oh oh halloween costumes, how could i forget?

good luck trying to find something for slenderman, even if he could fit in anything he probably wouldnt dress up no matter how you try to word it

actually now that i think of it, do you think his suit is just part of his body? like ive seen loads of interpretations where it is; the shitty slenderman movie included. like is it a removeable suit? is it something that looks like a suit but its part of him? is it like a scp 049 situation where it is a suit but its attached to him?

im not getting into that today

masky and toby both dress up as classic slasher icons

hoodie probably would too but i got flashed with a vision of him dressed as pumpkin so im rolling with it

i think thats about everything! i hope you like this! this ended up way longer than i thought it would be but i fully blame that on me still being in my ramble mindset </3 ive been cooking up some major hcs for my au/interpretation as well as smaller stuff so my brain just wants to dump it TToTT

anyways

runs off to go draw spooky stuff (cough cough creepypastas dressed up in costumes)

[specialagentlokitty]

Lokitty’s halloween prompts 2024

“Have you ever been to a corn maze?” “Now that’s a dumb question I don’t like corn why would I go to a maze full of it?” “No that’s not… never mind…”

“Pumpkins?” “No.” “Pumpkins!” “No!”

“Don’t you ever find this time of year eerie?”

“I think I heard something…”

“Come on, ghosts aren’t real!”

“Why do you like Halloween so much?” “I guess there’s just something I find hauntingly beautiful about a day dedicated to supernatural things.”

“There’s something in there…”

“You know the wild hunt happens on Halloween.” “What’s that?” “We hunt humans instead of them hunting us.” “Do you hurt them?” “No, just scare them a little.”

“I’ve seen your name somewhere before…” “I should hope so you’re stood on my grave.”

“I love the fact you love Halloween, but it’s too early for horror films.”

“What’s that?” “Gingerbread haunted house.” “…what…?”

“So I know you don’t celebrate any holidays, and I love Halloween, and you love cats, so I made you little black cat cookies because I know you had a bad day.” “…thank you…”

“Where are you going?” “Bonfire by the old haunted mansion.” “Sounds stupid, I’m coming with you.”

“Stop summoning me!”

“Where’s its head?” “You can’t just ask the headless horseman where his head his!”

“I don’t want to scare you, but there’s a uh… werewolf behind you…” “oh that? That’s just my partner/husband/wife.”

“Puppy.” “That’s a hellhound.” “Puppy.” “Please leave.”

“Get under the covers you’ll freeze.”

"Why are we doing a bonfire tonight again?" “To appease the spirits.”

“Did you hear a scream…?”

“Ew a spider!” “It’s fake!”

“Woah… you’re a real ghost…?”

“It sucks I only see you on Halloween…”

“It’s creepy out here can we go back?”

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you the stories about that place?!”

“So… a vampire and a werewolf…? You’re both…?”

“Somethings following us…”

“I told you not to pick up the haunted objects! Now look what you’ve done!”

“That was always your favourite time of year…”

“During Halloween there’s no rules, it’s when all the monsters come out to play.”

“Do you actually know the meaning of Halloween?”

“Let me be clear, just because I’m here and you summoned me doesn’t mean anything.”

“Make sure to look under your bed.”

“What’s with the shopping?” “So you said you never went trick or treating, so now I have two bags full of candy.*

[cadilver]

intro post :)

this is cadilver!

they/he. nicknames are cool (cad/caddie/whatever)

they're a normal Point with normal Hobbies and a very normal Not Too Dangerous World that is Hospitable to Visitors. Definitely! they don't know why Cyalm Named it Night of Nightmares it's just a Graveyard and a Haunted Mansion and a Catacombs with no Nightmares to be found Anywhere not even in their Vault. um. well they might be Lying about That but it's really not your Business anyway.

// will be the ooc marker for this blog. and yeah cad talks like That (not in 3rd person) and the Capitalizations are worse when he's nervous/lying.

Asks are open! I'll probably make/write stuff even if no one asks anything, but hey why not.

run by @p7agu3 btw

Lore/Design/Backstory infodump below (may contain spoilers, if i end up actually doing anything with this storytelling wise)

cadilver is a portmanteau of "cadaver" and "silver". his aspects include, predictably, metal and general undead shenanigans, though he was also really into Halloween for backstory reasons when he was. alive? (complicated) so that carried over as well. he gets to join the holiday gang (compale and arrolin). stuff happens :) that i may write about proper if i get the motivation

his true form symbol is a concentric cloverleaf pattern, in the orientation associated with metal jewelry and not highways. mostly cause i thought it looked cool and not for deeper meaning. their normal symbol is more. interpretable. it's his prepoint's 'eyes', yes, but also infinity, cool sunglasses, ouroborous, venn diagram. you can really go crazy with it. it's mostly just them big ol eyes.

oh yeah! prepoint lore. i haven't fully decided how much of the p7v plague lore i want to use for him (some of it is insane and wouldn't fit AF well) but what's definitely sticking is the facts that he was undead (if cyalm can pointify a robot then reanimating a reanimated corpse is light work. also, name), cavorted around in a plague doctor costume, was powerful enough to at least hold out against cyalm in a fight, and [definitely something i wanna reveal later].

interestingly, they're more "alive" now than they were before, having a complete kinda-organic body, fully functional senses, and the capability to experience emotion normally. cyalm did some witchery fr. on the downside they just "die" as a extreme stress response now. like a possum. apparently that's called "thanatosis", which is a really good word. usually it takes specific triggers to set him off that badly.

cad's world is functionally the 9th because ixol has been pretty much exiled from the Emporium. the two have never met (cad was Pointified later), and (probably) won't meet until AF2's events. ixol has yet to draw the message or their symbol on the walls to indicate their location. the other points knew ixol somewhat but unanimously (some more reluctantly than others) agreed to exile them once they started hearing voices.

the world is called Night of Nightmares (double reference lol) and is located in the same area as Battery Canyon, maybe on the right side.

[bellysoupset]

"I'm not hungry," Lucas mumbled, as he slid in the backseat of the car that had been sent for them and Bella frowned.

She felt incredibly out of her depth. She could do caretaking, but she had no idea how to do emotional caretaking. Her family's unspoken policy with emotional troubles had always been "nothing a couple beers couldn't fix".

Luke was doing his best to show he was somewhat collected, but at least with her he wasn't bothering pretending and Bell was glad for that, she was happy he trusted her entirely... She just had no idea of how to fix it.

"I didn't ask if you were," she wrinkled her nose, pushing the bagel towards his mouth, "eat up."

Lucas groaned, but took the bagel, starting to tear it apart in his hands and force little, pathetic bites in his mouth. Bella looked up, catching the chauffeur glancing at them, but he quickly averted his gaze.

This was the salt in the wound, the fact that her husband was falling apart and yet here they were, in this farse, playing happy house with Kit Howard. Where there were drivers and Lucas felt the need to flash bright, horrible smiles whenever someone talked directly with him.

She watched from the corner of her eye as Luke gave up halfway through the bagel and instead just curled up against the door, staring at the changing scenario. They were supposed to have gotten there in the morning, but an emergency cuddle session had been needed, so they exchanged the tickets. It was amazing what the black card with A T W O O D stamped on it could get, Bella thought sourly, sliding closer to him.

"Hey, look at me," Bell cupped Luke's cheek and pressed her lips into a thin smile when she noticed his sad stare. He swallowed in, forcing up a tiny smile.

"I'm okay, Bell-"

"Don't," she shook her head, "don't lie to me. To everyone else, but not to me, okay?" she stroked his cheek, "let's make a decent holiday out of this, Luke. I know being here was the last thing we wanted and I know the timing isn't exactly good and that you're not feeling well, but... We can make a good thing out of a bad one, right?"

He nodded slowly, "at least we're not at Vince's," Lucas whispered, bitterly and Bella opened a surprised smile. She giggled, bumping her nose against his.

"Yeah, it would be hella awkward when I clawed his face off mid Christmas dinner."

"You'd never, you fucking love him," Luke rolled his eyes and Bella grinned at the playful tone, however weak it was.

"Oh, trust me, I can love the guy and still claw his fucking face off. Try me," she pressed a kiss over his lips, then pulled back and grabbed the ditched bagel on his lap, "finish it up."

"I'm full..."

"That's all you've had to eat today," Bella glared at him, "you're not full, babe. Now eat."

It was another twenty minutes as they entered his gated community and then Bella felt her stomach drop to her feet. Luke had prepared her for it. He had shown her pictures, a fucking Architecture Digest tour of his house - Kit grinning with those overly white smile of his -, but nothing could've prepared her for the sheer enormity of it all.

"God... This is sick," she whispered, gluing her nose to the car window and watching the mansion grow as it came closer. She tried to imagine Lucas, a little version of him, in that house, but couldn't. In fact, Bell couldn't imagine anyone living there, period.

"Your dad lives here all by himself?" she whispered, half amazed, half horrified and Luke shrugged.

"He's rarely home, he's always touring," he leaned closer, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, "some things don't change."

"So back then... It was just you and your mom...?" which someone made things worse, not better. One adult and a child in that haunted fucking mansion. It was a wonder that Luke was so well adjusted.

"Yeah," he pressed a kiss to her cheek, "and the staff."

"The staff," she wrinkled her nose. She was the staff, Bella knew it quite well. Her mother would be the staff, Bella herself, in another reality, "they don't count?" she raised her eyebrows, voice all bitter and Luke shook his head.

"Of course they do, I used to spend more time with them than with my own mother," he sighed, "dad fired everyone when she passed though, I don't know the new people well enough."

Reason number a hundred why Bella hated Kit Howard, she thought, squeezing Luke's hand as the car finally came to a stop.

She expected Kit to come out to greet them, but instead it was a chubby lady, with a friendly smile on and curly very blonde hair. She was a short little woman, half of Bell's size.

"Oh hi...?"

"Bella, this is Mary Ann," Lucas introduced them, "she runs everyone and everything in this house, dad included. Mary this Bella, my wife."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Atwood."

Bella cringed, "nice to meet you too, but it's just Bella," she shook the woman's hand, then looked around awkwardly.

"Mr. Howard is in the studio," Mary said, to Luke, who let out a little sigh.

"Of course," he wrapped an arm around Bella's shoulders, "c'mon, let me show you around."

She half wished he hadn't shown her around. The house was a fucking mausoleum, as far as Bell was concerned. Unlike the Sicily house, that only had one picture of Veronica, this one was filled with them. Every wall Bella looked at, there was Luke's mom plastered, with a fake smile on.

It was no wonder he didn't visit, she thought, avoiding Veronica's judgy eyes and trying to make any sense of the floorplan. Not even halfway through, though, she gave up. The place was a maze.

"And here's my old room," he finished up the tour, falling backwards on the gigantic bed and Bella stopped at the door, looking around. There was only one picture of his mom, sitting on the fireplace mantle. Veronica, glaring at the camera, one blurry hand out trying to block it.

Bella felt like she could almost hear the woman's exasperated "Lucas!"

Besides that, there were books. So many books, shelves littering the walls. Two posters with football players she didn't recognize, a deep blue wall behind his bed, an abandoned PS4 console under the flat screen TV, one framed shirt that was signed.

"So?"

"Not messy enough to be yours," she said, then crossed the room to stand in front of him, "I'm surprised that I like it."

Luke wrapped his arms around her, leaning to rest his cheek on her chest, looking around, "it's not bad."

"Yeah, I was imagining something more... Kardashian," she teased him and could feel him grimace and scoff against her.

"Don't say that around dad unless you want a whole rant," he whispered, "c'mon, let's go say hi."

"...Your dad isn't home," she pulled back, "he's in the studio, you heard Mary."

"That's the basement level," Lucas stood up, running a hand through his hair and forcing a smile, "let me show you."

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

"Has Luke shown you the tapes yet?" Kit asked, lazily sprawled on his big chair, while Lucas sat in front of him and Bella dug through a box filled with old vinyl's.

She hated that they had so many good ones.

"The tapes?" She said, at the same time Luke whined:

"Dad, noooo-"

"Oh yeah, the tapes," Kit sounded so smug, getting up and opening a big black cabinet across the studio. Bella turned her body so she could get a better view and noticed there were multiple black folders, with white labels, stacked side by side. At least twenty filling up the whole cabinet.

Kit grabbed the 5th one, unzipped it and then flipped through the pages where white CDs with black markings were slotted in. Bella raised her eyebrows, shocked by the sheer amount of music.

"Here," the older man slid a CD out, then fed it to his sound system, folding his hands behind his back, while Luke let out a groan.

The song was mellow, with just an acoustic guitar and a drummer far in the background. Bella frowned, looking at Lucas all puzzled, only to widen her eyes as the first lyrics started and a very familiar voice sung it.

Luke, except his voice wasn't as deep, much breathier.

"Is that you!?"

"He recorded it all on his own," Kit sounded so proud, "his mother wouldn't let me include it in the album, though, and Lucas refuses to let me release it now."

"It's embarrassing," Luke's face was all red, "I was thirteen."

"Can I get a copy of that?" Bella asked, smiling so much her cheeks hurt, "has Jonah heard it before?"

"NO," Lucas glared at her, and she wasn't sure which question he was answering, probably both.

"I'll get a copy done for you, Bella," Kit smiled at her and Bella felt her disdain for the man fade just a little bit. Not much, just a tad.

[jimothy-hopkins]

Let me cook guys hold on

Info about Silena!

General Description:

Silena is a young greaser who works to keep herself in the best shape possible. She has a confident walk and holds her head high. When speaking she is rather loud and loves to fit in a jab or joke whenever she can. Silena likes to socialize and is often always with friends.

Silena is 5’7 with an athletic build. She has a few northern Mediterranean features such as an olive undertone to her skin and a very defined face. Her hair is naturally wavy and is well kept and styled. Her eyes are a bright blue, and are often the first thing people notice when they see her. Silena also enjoys wearing very striking makeup, and always sports a red lip.

Interests and whatnot:

Silena LOVES makeup. She never goes a day without it. This isn’t out of insecurity, or a need to impress boys. Makeup is a way for Silena to express herself and boost her confidence. She loves bold colors and shimmers

Additionally, Silena is also very interested in hair care, styling, and hygiene. Her mother is a beautician and has taught her every trick in the book to keep nice, healthy, beautiful features. Silena will even pass her knowledge to other girls who ask. She’s happy to help.

There’s a certain boys she’s interested in. A lanky, brooding guy. Travis. (Travis is an oc that belongs to my partner.) She spends a lot of time with him, and I mean A LOT. It’s almost like he’s more of her boyfriend than her ACTUAL boyfriend. Hm. Strange. Great friends they are. Not like her boyfriend should be jealous, he goes after other girls all the time? What’s wrong with her getting even?

Silena loves Halloween. She goes all out for the holiday. She has Kate assist her in making her costumes and she goes to contests. Silena also works at a haunted house during the fall as a scare actor.

Beating up Earnest is a must.

Reputation:

Silena is liked amongst the jocks. As a cheerleader she pulls her weight on the team. She actually gets along with Mandy very well, and often worried about her due to Mandy’s self image.

She’s a well respected member of the greasers. Although she exhibits some of the same habits as Lola, Silena hasn’t yet brought her secret boyfriend around the greasers. She sees Lola as a blueprint of what not to do if you wanna cheat. She is close friends with Kate, and even views her as the twin sister she never had.

The press hate Silena and Silena hates the preps. She takes joy in egging their cats and tp’ing their mansions. Her favorite past time is watching the clique inevitably get squashed in rumbles. Although she does feel bad for Tad. He reminds her of Kate, just, really unbearable and rich.

Silena has gained enough respect with the greasers to mostly be left alone by the bullies. She can fend for herself against them pretty well. Bullying someone isn’t very fun when they give you back the same energy instead of cowering.

Silena hates Earnest, so she doesn’t like the nerds. She thinks most of them are smelly, unhygienic, and gross. Every once in a while she will either bully them or bribe them into giving her test or homework answers.

Quotes:

“Deodorant is a dollar there is no reason to smell like ass!”

“No offense but you look like you could use a good shampoo.”

“Ow! I got mascara in my eyeball!”

“My boyfriend is so fucking annoying!”

“You know that Travis guy? He’s kinda…”

“How about you get ahold of that frizzy hair before you talk about how I look!”

“Jimmy’s bald by CHOICE? Ew!”

“Wanna go egg Justin’s car with me?”

“I can’t wait to graduate. Senior year is sooo boring.”

“Who let you walk out of the house like that?!”

“Girl don’t worry I have what you need in my purse.”

[charcoalhawk]

The haunting of Masters’ Mansion

This is a backup truce gift for @shadowofaghost5 , hope to bring you some (very) belated Christmas cheer!

Prompt: Vlad & Danny bonding (by annoying each other? did they have to work together for something and accidentally started enjoying it? is Vlad being nice for once and teaching Danny stuff? How they bond is entirely up to you!)

Warnings: none

“-and Frankie said I could stay with them and their partner for the holidays. I think we may go to one of our other friends' houses on Christmas Day, but that’s still up in the air pending how many of his family is coming home.”

“That’s awesome Jazz”, Danny smiles at his sister over FaceTime, “so I’ll see you probably during spring break? Assuming no, uh, pit stops?”

“Yeah, spring break. And no Danny, no pit stops. Enjoy your last semester and your extracurriculars, we can call and text as much as you need.”

“I don’t know, if the house is still being fumigated after the new year I may just have to hide in your dorm for a few days just to get some sleep.”

Apparently using unstable ectoplasm for years and building much of their own home had caused the building not to be strictly up to code, and while they’re not having to rebuild any existing structures, the city had insisted on doing a through investigation, and then announced that the house would need to be thoroughly fumigated for at least a month, amongst other problems.

They’d been able to book a hotel for the first few nights, but as it grew closer to Christmas his parents had been informed they would need to find other lodgings as their rooms had already been booked starting the next two days all the way through the new year.

Luckily a family friend was willing to host them over the holidays, as after a frantic search it seemed like most hotels had already been bought out or were charging truly outrageous prices for the holidays.

Unluckily for Danny his parents insisted he stay with them for the Holidays, even after both Tucker and Sam had promised that either of their parents wouldn’t mind hosting Danny for a few weeks.

So they had shuffled themselves into the Fenton RV, suitcases and presents pressing into Danny from every angle from where they’re all crammed indiscriminately.

It has only taken an hour for his parents to restart the argument they had put on hold last night. At this point after almost eighteen years Danny thought he could recite both sides of his parents "is Santa real" argument from memory. Danny knows he had been lucky before that his parents had only had small arguments since Mariah Carey had started haunting every radio station since October.

“You know mom and dad just wanted one more Christmas with you before you go off to college.”

“I know.” He chances a glance at the front of the RV where even now his parents are in furious debate, “but knowing them they’re just going to spend the whole time arguing or trying to make me pick a side.”

Jazz tries to smile on video call, but they’re far enough out in the countryside that his phone’s connection is getting really spotty.

“I know. I tried when I called them last week to get them to understand how doing this was only going to drive you away” Danny can’t help but scrunch his nose in distaste, “don’t look at me like that Danny, you’re almost an adult. We can have these kinds of conversations, but I don’t think it quite stuck like I wanted it to.”

Jazz gives him a sympathetic look before her picture abruptly flips, and now Danny is staring at a slightly worse for wear Bearbert Einstein. Jazz waives one of his arms and puts on her most obnoxious, silly voice.

“But both me and Jazz want to wish you a very good new year,” her hand shifts so it seems Bearbert is nodding his head, “and Jazz would like to kindly request that you don’t try and murder Vlad unless he tries to get you first!”

Danny chokes on a laugh as the camera switches back to Jazz’s now beaming smile, and soon they’re saying their goodbyes as Jazz rushes to finish packing.

Once the call ends and the low arguing of his parents is now the only sound in the RV, Danny allows himself to scowl.

That was the other unfortunate thing, turns out they would be staring with Vlad over the holidays.

The only thing worse than Christmas time, and trust him there is not much worse than the Fenton’s at Christmas, is having to share that time with Uncle Vlad.

Danny can see his future now, Vlad will take his mom’s side, which in turn will make his dad turn to him.

The only silver lining in all this, and trust him it is a very slim silver lining, is that over the past four years he and Vlad have a more steady truce in place and neither goes out of his way to intentionally maim or attack the other.

When they finally pull up to Vlad’s gaudy home, nothing immediately strikes Danny as out of place, but he notices that his parents seem unnerved about something and that immediately sets him on edge.

As they all clamor out of the RV his ghost sense tells him Vlad is lurking nearby. No one exits to help them get their bags but the door swings open dramatically before his dad can start pounding on the door.

“Jack! Glad to see that you are well.” Vlad places a very reluctant hand on his Dad’s shoulder, which is all the prompting Dad needs to sweep Vlad into a truly impressive bear hug.

Vlad’s smile is carefully pinned in place, as he allows the extended contact with Jack before sweeping down to RV, likely to offer to carry his mom’s bags.

“Madeline! How good to see you!” His mom carefully steps out of Vlad’s way while keeping her own smile carefully on.

“It’s good to see you too Vlad, we really can’t thank you enough for agreeing to host us on such short notice.”

He and Vlad share a careful nod as Dad leads them all into the foyer, and Danny can only hope with such a big house it can actually allow him some peace and quiet.

“Yeah V-man, thanks for letting us stay here while the house is being checked out. But I gotta say Vladdie,” his dad gestures around the opulent foyer, “where’s all your Christmas stuff?”

His mom takes a careful look around and her eyes widen as she realizes what her husband says is true.

“Oh now that you mentioned it dear, it is odd,” she turns more fully towards Vlad, genuine interest in her tone and not the carefully cultivated fake interest Danny knows she holds whenever he’s seen her interact with Vlad in recent years.

“While Santa Claus obviously isn’t real, the story of Saint Nick should still be celebrated, and of course a chance to give gifts to our loved ones.”

His parents share a glare, but it’s clear they’re too shaken by Vlad’s lack of decorations to devolve back into spirited debate.

“We can take the RV into town right now!” His Dad makes an abrupt about face and starts tugging Vlad along with him, “bet they still have some real trees for sale, only real way to celebrate is with a real tree!”

“Oh good idea Jack! Vlad can show us where he stores his other decor and while you two are gone Danny and I can set up the lights.”

“Oh nonsense, we should all get the tree together!”

“I guess you're right Jack, that is a very important Christmas tradition. Then do you know where the nearest tree farm is Vlad? I’m sure we could find one but I’m sure you have your preferences.”

Vlad starts to look increasingly uncomfortable as his parents gang up on him.

“C’mon Vladdie! If we leave now we should still have time to set up the Christmas tree!”

Just as his Dad is about to pull Vlad past the threshold of the house, Vlad seems to snap out of his stupor and easily shakes off his Dad’s hand, backing up further into the house like he thinks Dad will lunge at him to pull him into the RV.

“That won’t be necessary. While I wouldn’t begrudge your family its traditions, I have no interest in spending multiple hours putting up frivolous decorations that are only going to live in boxes most of the year.”

“Oh bah, I’ve seen you spend weeks decorating this place for whenever the Packers play!”

“I don’t care, I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

It feels like the entire house freezes.

“I don’t have any particularly strong feelings around winter and Christmas time, and so to me they are just another few weeks of the year. I only even remember them because every store and TV station is decorated in red and green from November until the new year.”

It’s silly, but Danny had never realized that you could just, do that. He knows Sam and her family celebrate Hanukkah, hell even ghosts have the Truce, but he’d kinda been under the impression that everyone did something for the winter holidays.

The next few minutes are filled with his parents arguing the joys of Christmas time, while Vlad seems to grow increasingly more bored as the minutes tick by.

At some point his parents seem to realize they won’t get through to Vlad by simply arguing their case, so his Dad declares they will go out and vows that by the time they leave Vlad will be filled with the Christmas spirit.

With the slam of the RV door his parents are gone, leaving Danny and Vlad standing awkwardly in the now empty foyer.

“Well, that was a waste of my time.”

As the shadow of the RV disappears around the corner, Danny suddenly has an idea.

“Ok frootloop I’ve got a deal for you.” Vlad raises a single brow, at least he’s curious. “Neither of us wants this place to become infested with Christmas, so we work together and make my Mom and Dad think your house is haunted by some Christmas hating spectr, and then they’ll be so focused on hunting down the ghost they won’t have time to bother either of us.”

“Are you suggesting we make up a ghost to haunt your parents Daniel? My, that’s something I would usually think of.”

“Oh don’t give yourself that much credit. I’ve already been basically haunting my parents for the last four years.”

As so, an alliance is born.

The next two weeks Danny finds out he and Vlad make a startlingly efficient pair at tracking down and vanishing any extra Christmas decor his parents try to smuggle in the house.

Danny knows his parents have kept all their presents in the RV for fear of this new ‘Christmas ghoul’ stealing them, and honestly Danny is having the time of his life. His parents are united for once in their Christmas opinions, and they’re so busy trying to hunt this imaginary ghost that they forget to try and get Danny on either of their sides.

Christmas Day still passes in a flurry of activity, but this year it’s his parents camping out by the chimney all night waiting for a ghost, or Santa, to come sneaking into the house. They end up sleeping most of the next day, and by the time new year hits Danny hasn’t heard his parents argue about Santa being real in almost a week.

And if his friends ever question the morality of the situation Vlad is such an easy target he won’t even deny it.