#;Do The Monster Mash (crack);

[ma1dita]

hi jo!! can i please have a ticket to here for the boos! with sylus :)))) with a ice cream and fries! happy october ;)

devil inside

[STARRING: SYLUS QIN x reader ; “I know what you did.” “Blood? Oh it’s not mine.” ] wc: 1.4k warnings: none, undercover stripper!reader, mentions of Xavier as a friend if you consider that a warning LOL, ooc!MC? if that's possible? best hunter in Linkon City but the devs play her off too ditzy for my liking so i gave her some duality and spice. but also that might just be how she is w Sylus anyway, title from inxs

monster mash-terlist

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Maybe he’s had a few too many gin fizzes tonight.

That, or Sylus Qin has found himself completely captivated by the sight of you dancing on stage. The leader of Onychinus is rarely impressed by anything or anyone. It’s all a part of the job, after all. 

If Sylus was ever to be caught off-guard, he risks losing everything he’s worked for.

Winning is how he survives, and ensuring that keeps everything and everyone in the N-109 Zone in order. Anyone good or bad knows not to play him at his own game. Still, there’s something in the way you look at him as you spin around that pole that makes him think you could be a worthy opponent.

He shakes his head, running his hand through his silver hair, but his eyes remain transfixed on the way your hands slither up and down your body. You’re good at what you do and everyone in the establishment can see that, dollar bills flying onto the stage like confetti as you sway your hips. But he won’t let himself be shaken so easily by a woman he’s never met before.

The song ends with the club’s roaring applause as you twirl and flutter your lashes, waving cutely at men who leer at you like you’re a piece of meat. However, you’ve already made your mark on the most feared man in the establishment.

Making your way over to him and his henchmen, you lean down and offer him a smile, “You look like you might have something I need.” And once your eyes lock, Sylus can’t fathom not getting to know you. He thinks he can hear Luke choke on his spit under his mask, or maybe it’s Kieran—one of them whacks the other but that all fades into the background as his blood red eyes roam your face and then, lower. 

He’s still a man, after all.

“Eyes up here, mister. I think I just asked you a question.”

You’re a fearless one, toying with him in front of so many unfortunate souls that will never see the light of day once he blows this place up later. 

Perhaps he’ll do you a favor and warn you. A face like yours is too pretty to go up in flames. He smirks, “Is that so? Run it by me again,” he croons, index finger playing with the pendant that hangs from your neck, “You’ve got my attention, kitten.” Your smile widens, saccharine and sinister, as you repeat yourself.

“Do you have what I need?”

Oh, he knows you’re not here for him tonight. The man you were supposed to interrogate for information is being dragged out the back entrance by the blonde guy who’s been starring daggers at him since you started talking. 

“I think your associate already has him out back. Unless you mean something else, sweetie.”

Pretty little kitty, rubbing herself up against the wrong bad guy. 

It’s not your fault per se—the mission report details told you the person you were looking for would stand out; though it just so happens that Xavier found him first. Your eyes flash, straightening your posture as you spare him another smile before turning to head out the back door, “Maybe next time then. Thanks, handsome.” You’re gone in a swish of sparkles and you don’t look back at him, not even once. But Sylus does love a game, and you’ve successfully captured his interest, even if that wasn’t your original mission.

Later, on his way out, he hears the sound of metal against metal from the alleyway. Sylus watches you fight back-to-back with your partner through the crack in the emergency exit door, slashing through Wanderers with sheer power and athleticism in every strike. 

Who knew his little kitten had claws? How interesting.

“Ugh! Xay, Tobias is getting away!” you grunt, holding your sword down by your side—and Sylus dares to wonder where you pulled that out from. There are still two Herte Knaves staggering up from the ground, ready to pounce, “You need to get that briefcase!”

“I’m not leaving you here!”

Slashing a Wanderer clean through, you take a second to wipe the sweat from your brow, “I can handle this Xavier. You need to trust me, and we need to finish the mission. He won’t make it far if you use your Evol.”

Your hunter friend hesitates, before taking off, looking back at you the whole time, “Please be careful! I’ll communicate with you!” And Sylus has seen enough, he thinks, stepping out into the darkness. If he were fighting with you, it wouldn't even enter his mind to leave you alone like this. But as he raises his faintly glowing hand to pummel the last Wanderer into dust, your sword gleams in the streetlights, hacking at its weakest points until it disintegrates. You don't see him lurking in the shadows, as you collect protocores, sheathing your sword against your hip. The beeping noises on your comms link remind you to inform Xavier of your whereabouts.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, sweetie."

You jolt, averting your eyes when you catch him at the door.

How long has he been there?

Sylus looks at you through full lashes and time stops. You don’t remember how he got so close to you, or why you let him…something pulling you to him from the depths of your core. His hand wraps delicately around the base of your neck and cheek before you even realize it, breath hitching under his caress, "Is that...."

"Blood? Oh, it's not mine," you smile as if he didn't see you single-handedly annihilate a group of Wanderers on your own, "I just got sloppy."

Your smaller hand claps around his wrist, fingers barely wrapping around his skin as you push him away and start walking. It's best to get out of here, handsome stranger be damned.

"I didn't get your name, kitten. Do you belong to someone?" he says playfully, watching your figure sashay towards the end of the street. You stop, not turning to meet his eyes. It's risky to get involved with someone while on the job, much less in the N-109 Zone.

What would the Association think?

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out."

Expensive cashmere is draped over your shoulders. You don't remember hearing his footsteps come near you at all. When you turn back towards the alley, the mysterious man is gone. Swallowing hard, you button the suit jacket to protect your modesty—who knows what other unexpected deviants might follow you home.

Mephisto caws from a nearby powerline, mechanical eyes gleaming ruby red like his master's. He makes sure you leave before the club explodes, plumes of smoke filling the night sky.

But all he can think of is you and the challenge you've presented him— a week later, Sylus has bought out an entertainment complex that you frequent in Linkon. He goes to inspect his newest business venture, making the trip out in scorching daylight and losing sleep every day that week just in case you might drop by.

What he doesn't expect to see is you standing in front of the plushie machine on your day off, eyes fixated on the stuffed animals within the glass box. You've been trying to collect the Succulent Bunny for an hour now, and he thinks even a fire wouldn't break your concentration. Sylus has tried everything—walked back and forth down the aisles, pretending to help customers nearby....he ought to stick Mephisto in there to be caught by the metal claw.

"I just need to try harder..." you mutter, the green plush slipping out of the trembling prongs. It glows red the longer you stare at it, lifting itself towards the slot, before hitting against the glass.

What?

You can feel the energy flux thrumming from inside the machine. Is there a Wanderer inside the plushie? Its new position makes it easier to capture—you can't help but scream in joy when the bells go off and the stupid thing slides into the hole.

"YES!"

You look around you frantically, hair whipping against your neck and then you see a familiar figure leaning against the doorway just like how you left him at the club. Hugging the plushie, you quickly walk towards Sylus. He watches you come towards him again with the same determination in your eyes, though the behavior you've presented in the arcade is nothing like the seductress he saw at the club. Here, you're not a hunter—just a plushie enthusiast.

"I know what you did."

"I could say the same about you, kitten. Wanna trade thoughts on it?" he smirks, looking down at your amused expression.

Two can play this game— it looks like the both of you are willing to take a gamble.

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

[rubra-wav]

do you think vox would play videogames,, do you think you'd be able to play videogames on him,, and if you could, what would it be like for him?

OMG imagine you're playing some game on his screen, and you ask him if he can get closer because you can't see the game properly, he complains but gets closer anyway, you say he's still too far, he gets pissy and insults your eyesight because he's already close enough, so you take the matter into your own hands and pull him into your lap‼️ then the game crashes because he gets flustered

sorry for the ramble but i've been thinking abt this for SO long 😭

- 💫

Vox x reader: 'Frontseat gaming' oneshot

A/N Reader is playing Stardew Valley bc I say so (it is peak)

Vox would 100% be the type of gamer to just go "You're bad" at every step and bully you when you fail, and I will not hear anything less

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, just vox getting seriously flustered (we love to see it), romantic/crush reader

Here's me also just kinda discussing more onto this topic but not in drabble form.

- Your little character entered the mines, you frantically switching between squares as you fought monsters flying at you from every direction.

- ...Then you promptly died because you couldn't see properly.

- You inhaled deeply in irritation as you watched 3000 gold empty from your wallet, pressing a hand to your forehead before looking somewhat in annoyance at the demon in front of you.

- "Could you move closer, please? I can't see properly when you're that far away, man." You complained.

- Vox had snickered when you died, then did so again as you asked that.

- "I'm literally a metre away from you, and you 'can't see properly'? Just admit you're.. how do you say it?" Vox pretends to think as his mouth and eyes and brows appear overlayed over your house. He snaps his fingers, then raises his brows with a smug look down at you. "Fucking coping at this point."

- It was very rare of an opportunity for Vox to allow someone to play anything on his screen. He thought it would be a somewhat entertaining opportunity, however (him getting to have you stare at him in concentration for a prolonged period of time and having the excuse to stare right back at you)

- The plug-in process for your keyboard and mouse was a little awkward, to say the least, but it went off without a hitch apart from that.

- You grumble out curses at him and shuffle closer to him when it's clear he's not moving his ass to be a bitch about it, about 2 feet in between you now.

- Vox's face disappears again with one last condescending 'mhmmm' and leaves you to continue.

- It's better, and you can see more, but you once again are met with a death screen with even more of a loss then last time.

- "Goddammit!" You yell, smacking your keyboard not hard enough to damage it but hard enough for the buttons to mash loudly under your fist. Vox laughs loudly, shoulders shaking as he tries to contain himself.

- "You're so fucking bad, how are you this bad at the cute little farming game, (name)?" He teases you, sharp smile coming into sight over the death screen.

- "Shut the hell up, Vox! I still can't see jackshit. Come closer!" You demand, which in turn has Vox's laughing mouth fall into a frown, eyes coming back into sight with a clearly irritated expression.

- "It's not my fucking fault your eyes are that shit. Don't you fucking talk to me like tha-"

- His scolding and eye getting ready for hypnosis is interrupted as you angrily grumble, leaning forward to grip his hips and pull him closer.

- Vox's face starts to heat up, him stuttering out in disbelief as a sound similar to fans turning on to cool a computer slowly cracks to life as Vox suddenly finds himself pulled into your lap, either one of his legs resting splayed out behind your back.

- "There. Now I can see just fine." You sigh out with relief, concentration now on your face as your hands gently wrap around either side of his monitor to pull it down to face towards you.

- You notice his surprised expression glitching out finally and feel the way his screen has heated up massively under your hands.

- ...Then watch as there's promptly an error message with a loud 'dun!' sound.

- "Oh shi-!" You snort, poking his screen a couple of times. "Earth to Boxhead~" you sing out, and then you're met with a very flustered Vox once again coming back to his senses.

- "Fucking stop that!" He swats your hand poking him continuously away lightly, prompting you to once again laugh.

- It's silent for a couple of seconds outside of you laughing at his sour expression, face now just normal outside of the bright blue blush across his cheeks resembling a heart monitor beating with what was undeniably his own heart's current slowing frantic rate.

- After calming down a bit, Vox hesitantly does something that surprises even himself.

- He wraps his legs around your waist to bring himself closer to you.

- It was your turn to blush now as his face was just barely inches from yours, your gamer rage wearing off into embarrassment at realising the position you had pulled him into.

- "There," Vox's voice is lower than usual, more unsure than you've ever heard him you think. "Can you see me clearly now?"

- You somewhat get the feeling that he's not exactly talking about your game being displayed on his screen with the way his red eyes look down at you, blue pupils rather large under half lidded eyes.

- You gulp, then force a laugh. "Y-yeah. This is good, thanks." You shakily pick up your mouse again and begin pressing at the keyboard now next to you two.

- Your mind isn't exactly on the game as his eyes and mouth once again flicker off the display to show just your game, and you once again die.

- "See? You're just bad."

- "Shut up!"

Me when I set up a literally perfect kiss scene and then don't give it to my readers

Masterlist

[desertfangs]

Just thinking about that bit in DM where it says that seeing Armand truly angry is rare but Daniel is 100% into it. “How he loved this anger, his knees went from under him.”

Literally everyone else: *gets understandably terrified whenever Armand is pissed*

Daniel: “yep I’m hard” 🙂‍↕️

I hope you'll forgive me, anon, because I know you sent this a while ago and I saw it while my brain was freshly mashed from work and said 'I will come back to this' and then promptly forgot about it. 😅 You have my apologies, because hot damn, this is an amazing thing to call out?? So thank you! I'd kind of forgotten it.

Here is the quote from Queen of the Damned:

Why the urgency of the command when the hand that pulled him forward was so strong? Such a rare thing to see Armand truly angry. Ah, how Daniel loved this anger! His knees went out from under him. He felt himself lifted. And then the soft velvet of the back seat of the car spread out under him. He fell over on his hands. He closed his eyes.

This is when Armand finally comes for Daniel in Chicago, and he's so happy to see him that he thinks for a second he's imagining it! Which... god, I just love them so much.

I think you're right that Daniel is a little turned on by Armand being angry (Daniel Molloy being horny for this angry fanged monster is how he rolls), but he also just appreciates the intensity of Armand in a way I think maybe others don't always. Lestat, for example, is often taken aback by the intensity of Armand's anger (and other emotions).

But the other thing I think is going on here is that Armand is very often stoic. He keeps his expression unreadable and blank. He holds in his emotions and I think this is doubly true when Armand is upset or mad.

Daniel, over the years, has obviously seen the range of them--he's seen Armand cry, he's seen him rage and laugh and be excited and angry. But I think Armand still tends to hold things in and I think that can be frustrating, because Daniel can't read his mind and doesn't know what he's thinking. So getting Armand to show his emotions probably always feels like something of a victory. I imagine when they fight, Daniel feels like he's beating against a brick wall until Armand finally cracks.

In this particular case, Armand finding Daniel and being visibly angry is sort of a relief. He's not holding back. He's emotional and he's angry because Daniel put himself in danger, because he loves him and had to track him down while immortals are being exploded by some mysterious force left and right. The anger means he's not being rigid and unreadable, but open.

Anyhow, that is me rambling, but yes, I think Daniel does like his displays of emotion and that he would happily take his anger that over the Impassive Statue Act any day... err, night.

Thank you so much for the ask, anon, I love when y'all send me little bits from DM that have burrowed into your mind. Please keep doing it.

[solarmorrigan]

69 + 27 for steddie :)

I got really stuck on this one for a bit, but it ended up being one of my favorites. Thank you for the prompt!

From the Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up list: 69. Flirting Under Fire + 27. Sick/Injured Fic

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of injury

-

It’s a little bit like date night, really.

Like, in a twisted sort of way.

They get some time away from everyone else, they’re doing something together, they get to appreciate each other’s skills and competency – so what if the activity in question is patrolling Hawkins’ cracked and monster-infested streets? Times are tough, they take what they can get.

In any case, Steve has found he very much appreciates the chance to watch Eddie snipe demobats out of the sky, or take demodogs out with a well-aimed shot to what could dubiously be called the head (curly-haired brunets with guns; apparently Steve has a very specific type. Go figure). Eddie, in turn, has made no secret of how he enjoys seeing the power and strength in Steve’s swings when he takes on all manner of beasts with his trusty nailbat (Mark 2. Nailbat Mark 1 had unfortunately splintered some time ago, may it rest in peace).

And if they decide to go to bed immediately after showering off the muck and ash once they’ve gotten home, it’s because they’re tired from patrol. Obviously.

It’s possible, though, that they’ve gotten a little too complacent. They’ve had a string of easy patrols, picking off single demobeasts or taking out small groups with the ease that comes with practice. There haven’t been any surprises or mishaps, almost like the monsters have fallen into an easy pattern of their own.

Or maybe thinking like that is where Steve slips up.

Eddie whistles as Steve follows through on a swing that crushes the ribcage of the final demodog in the small pack, effectively taking it out of commission.

“Nice form, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve drawls, turning a warm smile on Eddie that takes any of the sting out of his teasing, “because you know so much about baseball.”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “Who’s talking about baseball?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, still smiling. He’s never had someone lay it on so thick with him – he’s never had the blatant flirting and the silly nicknames and the entirely unsubtle once-over glances, and he kind of loves it. He loves Eddie, really, but even in the midst of a mini apocalypse, it’s probably too soon to go around declaring that.

Instead, he glances around at the monsters strewn on the ground, and then at his watch. It’s nearly midnight; they’ve been out for hours, and this is the only encounter they’ve had.

“Think we’re done for the night?” he asks

To his credit, Eddie does a quick check of the area before stepping in close to Steve. “I’m nowhere near done with you for the night, sweetheart,” he purrs, and a shiver runs down Steve’s spine.

“No?” he asks, gaze flicking down to see the way Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Nope. Let’s go home and I can show you what else I have in mind.”

Steve is so distracted by the idea, by the thoughts Eddie’s words conjure up, by Eddie himself, that he almost misses it – the movement right in the periphery of his vision.

Almost, but not quite.

As it is, he barely has time to bark out, “MOVE,” at Eddie and give him a hard shove, getting him out of harm’s way. He doesn’t have time to follow.

The pain of the demodog’s claws raking across his side is so sharp that it burns cold, and the force behind the blow winds Steve and knocks his bat from his hands. He can see it drawing back for another swing—it’s the one he thought he’d killed first with a solid blow to its gaping maw—but he can’t move, can’t force his body to cooperate, and he’s about to die–

The sharp report of Eddie’s shotgun rings out, and the demodog jerks. Its head is gone, black ooze splattered all over everything (probably up to and including Steve’s wound, Steve realizes with a shivery sort of distaste), and then Eddie is at Steve’s side.

“Shit, shit, baby, sit down, you look like you’re about to–” Even as Eddie’s saying it, Steve’s legs start to shake hard enough that they practically go out from under him, and Eddie just manages to catch him before his knees hit the pavement.

Looking back on it later, Steve really only remembers snatches of what happens next: using Steve’s jacket as a compress (it’s ruined anyway), Eddie speaking frantically into the walkie to call for a pickup, Eddie talking to him low and soothing until Hopper’s truck pulls up, Hopper’s many varied and colorful swears as he helps bundle Steve into the back. Steve definitely remembers that he passes out sometime around when they dump the heavy-duty, Upside Down-grade disinfectant over the slashes in his side, and he’s grateful he does.

Eddie is there, sitting by the bed when Steve wakes up, looking like he’s aged about ten years in the grey light of what could either be dawn or dusk.

“Hey,” Steve rasps, aiming a tiny smile at Eddie.

“Steve, what the fuck,” Eddie demands, and it only makes Steve’s smile grow.

It isn’t exactly the first thing he’d wanted to hear, but it’s a very Eddie thing to say all the same.

“Wasn’t gonna–” Steve breaks off with a hiss as he tries to sit up a little further against the headboard, and Eddie darts forward to help support him, to rearrange the pillows and get him a little more upright. “Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Steve–”

Actually, fuck ‘too soon.’ Fuck waiting.

“I love you,” Steve says, and Eddie falls silent.

Steve doesn’t regret saying it—he could never, he’s pretty sure—but Eddie is quiet just long enough for Steve to get nervous before he’s pressing forward and kissing Steve, hard and full and insistent.

“I love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, the words almost lost inside Steve’s mouth, like he can’t even wait long enough to get them out before taking another kiss. “Never do that again.”

Steve kisses back, matching the passion as well as he can with what little energy he has, and makes no such promise.

He loves Eddie, after all. He could never lie to him.

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, May 5, 2024

My posts

It seems like it couldn’t possibly be true, but Lauren Bacall seems to be the first “Lauren,” and you can see in the U.S. baby name graphs when she hits the screen. I’m leaving open the possibility that someone female, somewhere, was named Lauren before 1944, but as a Lauren, I haven’t seen evidence of it yet. 

Reblogs of interest

Late-breaking news: Bernard Hill (best known as Théoden in Lord of the Rings) has passed at age 79. 

The Hot Vintage Lady Polls: Reminder that I’m not affiliated with the Hot Vintage Brackets (or any brackets); I just like vintage ladies and get easily obsessed with things. Greta Garbo and Rita Hayworth are in danger this time (I am letting the chips fall where they may with Ava). I would say I don’t understand people, but I’m sure Audrey people don’t understand me, either. That said, the Flaming Chaos Elmo inside me wants to see the Hepburns matched against each other. 

@hotvintagepoll is also running polls to cast an imaginary vintage Dracula movie, as a treat.

Speaking of: Season’s Greason’s, Dracula Daily fans! Good Friend Jonathan’s time loop begins again. 

May the Fourth be with you (And also with you)!

New music from Garbage! “Better Not Lie to Me,” “Revenge and Hurt,” a cover of “Song to the Siren,” and a new mix of “Bad Boyfriend” with Dave Grohl on drums this time. 

New music from Dua Lipa! I’ve liked all the singles a lot so far, and ”Whatcha Doing” is the album song I like the most as of this writing. Good luck to Dua this week cracking the Billboard Taylor 100!

Hozier Watch 2024: At first I was just poking fun at myself for having links here two weeks in a row, and now it’s just a thing? I see this “All art has political dimensions” gifset go by at least once a week, but I’m reblogging it this time for the user discussion.

(“I wrote a song called the Monster Mash, so you should play that. That’s one of mine.”)

“Here are some more articles about the increasing number of First Nations who have been able to reintroduce bison to their lands.”

How to spot fake news (namely: slow the fuck down)

The illustrious career of clip-art wolf Lumpy Kiba

Call an ambulance… but not for Alfred Pennyworth

No one was doing it like costume designer Eiko Ishioka

Crab Cake (Scott Fraser, 2019) 

Unhinged lifestyle editorials, a triptych

Video

Honestly this dual mating dance was my favorite video this week

The Donna Summer song that Brian Eno called “the sound of the future”; I added a video of her performing it 22 years later, and he wasn’t wrong

This seems fine: An... upside-down... deer guitar that...?

Watch for the exact moment this dad realizes why his child thinks mothers in labor foam at the mouth

Come for Werner Herzog’s fear of chickens; stay for a quote that will blow you straight back to Journalfen 2004

This video of birds eating seeds and drinking orange juice is also self care

Eventually someone will stop Chocolate Guy, but today is not that day

The sacred texts

Hope is a weapon. Hope is a skill

Personal tag of the week

Cats, including this cat full of love, designed by poll, and the two types of kittens.

[fineprintedsunsets]

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

🎃 This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 8! | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List 🎃

best friends-lovers au + "this fear you feel? it won't last."

Synopsis: Your heart has been broken, and your best friend Ransom has made it his mission to make you smile, with all your favorite things of course.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Throw on this ambiance and spend a day with Ransom as he attempts to cheer you up: tooth-rotting fluff. flirty friends. obvious friends with benefits. a cameo from all my favorite books. sweet!ransomdrysdale x nerd!reader. all the fall vibesss. like alot of fucking angst. Part 2 "We fell in love in October?" maybe?

Baby I'm A Project Lovin' Me's A Mistake.

“Hey sweetheart, How are you doing this morning?” You expected this. Your best friend called you every morning, asking about your plans, checking in, and seeing if you were alright. After, he hung up and went on with his day.

Ransom was like that.

But today, your only reply is a muffled sniffle. Your head is buried deep into your white pillow, both dry and wet tears staining the surface. “Sweetheart? You okay?”

“Yeaaaahhhh” You grog, putting the phone on speaker. You were in fact, not okay. Your boyfriend of 3 years decided to break up with you, he didn’t give a reason, but you're almost ninety percent sure it has to do with a girl you saw him flirting with weeks ago.

It was a red flag, but when you're in love you ignore them.

You wish you hadn’t.

“What happened?” Ransom asks urgently, the sound of his voice is comforting, to hear something then sniffing and silent sobs.

“Nothing, Ransom. I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine, sweet girl.” You never knew how much you missed his little nicknames until this moment

“I am-”

“I'm coming over.” Ransom rushes out, and embarrassment fills your aching body. He has seen you like this a dozen times, always comforting you, but this time you felt so stupid, How could you not see the signs?

“Please, no-”

The line goes dead, and Ransom disconnects his end. All you can do is scream into your pillow.

🍂

“Shortcake, you have to get out of bed sometime today.” Ransom stands over top of you, his sunglasses hanging by his shirt collar, an expensive-looking jacket on.

“Mmph!” A pillow goes hurdling across the room, heading right for Ransom. Unfortunately, he catches it, launching it on the opposite side of your bed.

“Shortcake.” He says seriously, Ransom's eyes look over your crumbled frame, the blanket covering your half-naked body.

“Ransom. Please. I’m fine.”

“Why don’t I take you out, just you and me? How does that sound?” Your head perches up at his offer, seeing the smile blooming on his smooth features. “Yeah? You like that idea?”

Finally moving your head away from the pillow you’ve been face to face for the last three hours, you nod your head in agreement. Spending a day with your best friend is exactly what you need.

“Get dressed, Shortcake.” He laughs, snatching the blanket off your body, you screech as the cool air caresses your thighs. You throw the blanket in his face, running towards the opposite end of the room to your closet.

“Sneaky little-” You crack a little smile, Your mood is lightning just a bit, but it’s going to be hard to fill the hole your ex left, Ransom would make you forget, for the moment at least.

He would make sure of it.

🍂

The weather was beautiful, auburn colors swirled inside the tree’s leaves, yellows and oranges and red collided to make bursts of colors. It was magical.

Autumn had always been your favorite time of year, the Halloween music, the movies, the pumpkin spice lattes. Everything about this season was extraordinary. Ransom’s car matched the leaves, a light orange, its convertible roof folded down.

It allowed you to smell the Autumn wind, feeling it flow through your hair, wiping it around your face. Ransom fingers find the radio, switching it to the nearest station.

The acoustic version of Boris Pickett's “Monster Mash” blares through the station, and Ransom would be damned if he missed the smile that blooms on your face. Although a weak one, he would take all you had to offer.

“Go ahead, I won’t judge. Sing it, shortcake.” Ransom offers, tapping his fingers against the wheel to the beat, turning left on G.R Drive, heading for town. You shrink back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Ransom keeps one hand on the wheel as his other presses into your jaw jokingly. You rear back, “Stop it.”

“Sing it then.” He bargains, his finger poking at your chest. Ransom wanted so desperately to see a true smile from you, even if it meant forcing you to sing Monster Mash.

“Fine! Stop poking me!” Your buck against his hand, telling Ransom to keep his eyes on the road as you tune into the music, listening to the lyrics.

“He did the monster mash.” You start quietly, twirling your fingers in your lap. Your hoodie is drawn over your knees. Ransom is trying very hard not to burst out laughing, he keeps one eye on you, watching your mouth sync with the lyrics, and one eye on the road, going straight for a place he knows you’ll love.

“From my laboratory in the castle east…” You started again, tapping your foot to the beat, the wind settling your nerves for the moment.

“To the master bedroom, where the vampires feast.” You pick up now, moving in tune with the beat, moving your hands, joking with your body, swaying your hips against the seat belt.

“Sing it, baby!” Ransom laughs, his face was practically red from holding in, and with it you join him, listening to the rest of the song play out.

What is with the fall and happy memories?

🍂

“The bookstore? The fucking bookstore!” You squeal excitedly, watching Ransom’s own features bloom in enjoyment, seeing your cheeks puff. The bookstore's front was decorated with paper leaves, stringing a banner across the glass windows.

Its exterior was black and gold, the perfect place for a sad girl. Books heal all wounds. Ransom’s already by the door, pulling his scar tighter as he holds the frame open for you, urging you in.

“As much as I love seeing you toggle, we have books to buy, sweet girl.”

“I love you, you know that?” You say playfully, although not exactly a lie. Ransom had always been like this, ever since you met in college.

“I love you too.”

Books. So many books. It took all your energy not to scream right there and then.

“Good morning!” An employee greets you both with a small smile, and you return it with glee, going straight to the new release stand, not even bothering to wait for Ransom.

Every book released in the past month was here, you wanted to get all of them. You circle around the table, seeing authors ranging from Nicolas Sparks to Ana Huang. A hand grabs your shoulder, spinning you around. Ransom greets you with a smile, handing you a black basket.

“Go crazy, sweetheart.”

“Ransom…” Because he knew you were going to protest, you always do, he places a finger to your lips, cocking his lips in a grin. “I’d rather spend my money on my shortcake.”

Did you already say you love him?

Because you really do love him.

And you do exactly what Ransom tells you, you go crazy.

Your basket is almost filled to the brim. You had insisted on stopping at three books but Ransom wanted you to fill the whole basket. You wanted around now, taking in the spice scent of hair and the smell of freshly printed paper-backs.

It’s not until you see Ransom, a book in his hand, flipping through the pages, that you truly start to panic. The cover, although rather innocent looking, displayed woods, and the name “CREDENCE” sprawled over the cover.

You have never run faster in your life. You attempt to snatch the book out of his hands, surprising him with your speed, but he grips it nonetheless, laughing as you fail to stop him. Halting completely, you watch in terror as Ransom’s back faces you, blocking your sad attempt at receiving the book he begins to read…

Ransom's voice is extracted, dark and husky. “That’s it…Noah says in a strained voice…” Your thighs clench at his words, not because of Ransom in particular, but because you know exactly what scene he is reading.

Oh god.

“Ransom! Shut up-”

But he ignores you, continuing on.

“-Holding my face as he kisses my nose, and then my lips. Good girl”. Ransom doesn't stop despite your pleas, and the more he reads, the more your thighs clench, maybe it wasn’t the book or the scene, maybe it was-

“I feel his fingers slip under the waistband of my shorts, and he starts to pull them down.” He faces you now, reading the pages, his lips pursing to make his voice seem seductive. Ransom is doing it to piss you off, but you are far from it.

“I look at him, pleading” He looks up for dramatic effect, allowing you to hang onto his every word, “No.”

“Yes”.

“He pulls my shorts and panties-”

You snatch the book out of his hand, carefully trying not to crease the cover. “We're done, let’s go.”

“These are the types of books you read?” He whispers, clearly poking fun. He plops the book from your gripping hand, putting it back on its stand. You try to hide the blush forming on your cheeks, Your best friend or not, that was embarrassing.

“An innocent girl like you?” Ransom smiles, grabbing your basket and heading for check-out. Your lips are slightly parted, looking distraught in the middle of a bookstore.

“Ransom!”

“Come on, Shortcake. We have more places to be.”

What the hell just happened?

🍂

“That fear you feel? It won’t last.” Ransom states, his tone a bit more serious. You quirk your brows as you walk down the street, your books stashed in the back of Ransom's convertible.

“Fear?” You question, look to where he walks next to you on the cracked sidewalk. Leaves crunch unearth your feet as you lose your arms in your hoodie, letting the fabric hang.

“You're afraid to trust again, aren’t you shortcake?”

You closed your mouth quickly. Ransom wasn’t entirely wrong, it had only been a few hours, but you truly thought it would be the last time you would ever love again.

“I trust, Ransom.”

“Who?” He asks, stopping in front of a little coffee shop just around the corner of the bookstore. It looks fairly empty from what you can see in the window.

“I trust you.”

That’s all he’s ever wanted to hear.

You order the first pumpkin spice menu item you read. A latte with whipped cream and real pumpkin. Ransom ordered a black coffee, because… of course he did. You both find an orange booth to settle in, sitting across from each other. Candles are lit throughout the shop as baristas call out orders to the other customers.

You bring your lips to the steaming cup, not caring if it burns your tongue or not, you feel the whipped cream gather on your flesh, smelling the cinnamon rooted throughout the substance. Ransom laughs, reaching over the table, and swiping his thumb across your nose to wear the whip cream sets. “You're a messy girl, shortcake.”

“That’s what your dad said.” You joke, laughing as Ransom shakes his head.

“I’m taking the books back.”

“No!”

He tilts his head in a way that says “Now who’s laughing”.

Unfortunately, it was not you.

You two sat in the coffee shop and converse, ordering drink after drink and dessert after dessert, loud laughter could be heard from one source,

Your table.

🍂

It had been a long day. The night sky rose above you, the air now having a layer of coolness to it, enough to bite you if you went outside. As soon as you got into your apartment, Ransom started you a bath, fiddling with a lighter for a few minutes, trying to light your favorite fall-themed candle.

He poured a generous amount of bubble bath into the tub, watching the hot water steam, turning the liquid into white bubbles.

“Shortcake, Bath’s ready!” Ransom calls, and you put your books down, having about ready to organize them. Your stomach ached from all the pumpkin you practically inhaled today, and a warm bath was just the thing to relieve every taught muscle.

You lean against the door frame in nothing but a towel, smelling the bubble bath mixed with the scented candle. You smile, looking at Ransom, “Thank you.” It dissipates from your lips with more appreciation than you could imagine.

“Of course.” Ransom goes to exit, but your fingers wrap around his wrist, turning him around. “Are you going home?”

“I’ll still be here when you get out of your bath.” He whispers, leaning forward to place a soft kiss against your temple, you don’t think much about it, now when it makes you want to melt. “You're full of surprises today, huh?”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Anything.

🍂

The feel of your best friend's lips against your temple, the sound of his flirty comments and funny resolve, you were starting to look at Ransom in a different way.

A way you both desired but pushed away.

“Ransom!” You call, and in an instant, he’s walking into the bathroom, shielding his eyes as he stops in front of the tub. You smile, heat blooming in your gut.

“Come here, silly.” The hesitation in his steps chips at your heart, but you pursue with it regardless. Ransom kneels by the tub, and carefully you unshield his eyes, holding onto his fingers.

“Shortcake, I don’t want to do anything you're uncomfortable with-” You grab his hand from where it rests in yours, and despite begging to be able to pull away, Ransom doesn't do it. He watches as you glide his hand, being held by the wrist, across your shoulder, bringing his fingers lower to slide down your breast, as your unoccupied hand splashes water upward, making the movement easier.

Ransom’s breath catches as his fingers meet a hardened peak, his eyes locking with your own. “Sweet girl-,

“You showed me what it was like to feel good again, Ransom.” A pained look blossomed on his cheeks, looking to where you sit in the bathtub.

“It was my pleasure.” You see clearly he’s fighting with himself, how far should he go with you? He didn’t want you to think he was using you. You and your ex just broke up.

Ransom also couldn’t deny the burning sensation that settled deep inside him, did he have feelings for his best friend? His best fucking friend of four years?

“It’s too soon-” He pulls away, unsure of his wariness, you sigh, feeling his fingers leave your chest. Perhaps it was for the better, it was so soon, and the last thing you wanted to do was use Ransom for pleasure.

If there was one thing you had known, the one thing that interaction did clarify, You loved him.

Maybe, you always had.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

They Did The Monster Mash 🎃 | TGM Halloween Imagine

Set in an AU where the characters of TGM are classical and mythology monsters/creatures

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: mad scientist!Bob Floyd x mad scientist!reader (romantic), Dagger Sqaud (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, light profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.4K

Premise: it’s All Hallow’s Eve, a night where ghouls and monsters alike awaken from every inch of the globe. What better way to celebrate the spookiest night of the year than gathering all those lurking in the shadows to the party everyone wants to be.

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Here’s a fluffy, spooky little imagine for y’all as a treat 🎃

——————-

‘Twas the night before Halloween, and all through the cemetery. Not a creature was moaning, as they basked in solitary. The pumpkins were lit, with carved faces to stare. In hopes the monsters of the night, soon will be there.

“Bob!” Y/n shouted, frantically searching for her coat. It was a quarter till midnight on October the 30th. Soon it would be Halloween. And with a full moon high in the sky it was the perfect moment to test out their newest creation. “It is almost time! We must make haste!”

“I’m right here, darling,” her coat in his hand, Dr. Floyd dimmed the lights on his way into the lab. The woman exhaled in relief, kissing his cheek before placing the coat over her shoulders.

“What would I do without you, my love?”

Bob adjusted his goggles over his prescription glasses, chuckling, “Probably half as mad as you are now.”

Any other woman would be offended by the comment, but Y/n, the mad scientist she embraced herself to be, only giggled. The two had met during their doctoral program, falling in love and conducting research as a duo. Before long they were blacklisted for unethical experiments, moving underground to hide from society.

But what the world didn’t know, was they uncovered a world beneath their own. Where monsters heard in legends and fairytales roamed freely. Living amongst humans to the naked eye.

Since forming partnerships with fellow outcasts like themselves, the couple have traveled every Halloween to Transylvania, Romania. There the infamous vampire Pete Mitchell, descendent of Dracula himself, hosts an annual Halloween festival with monsters and ghouls alike.

The party always started around sunset on Halloween night. So the two had plenty of time before gearing up their transportation pod to zap them to Pete’s mansion. Y/n placed her own goggles on, brushing away her dyed jet black hair with white streaks, mischievous smirk painting her lips, “Shall we begin?”

“It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater. (One-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater). A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater. Sure looks strange to me.” The party was in full swing when the couple arrived. Creatures in every corner, a werewolf howling in the distance, bats flying overhead. They were home.

“Doctors!” They spun around to find the monster of the mansion sporting a cheshire grin, fangs threatening to poke out. Lord Pete Mitchell, having recently fed by the bright color of his eyes and lack of under eye bags, wore a snazzy black pinstripe suit with a blood red tie. The handkerchief in his breast pocket, as well as the soles of his shoes, were the same color. “It is so wonderful to see you. I’m always amazed by your entrance every year. God forbid the governments of the world discover you’ve cracked the code of transportation.”

“Don’t forget time travel,” Y/n winked, causing Pete to laugh.

“Of course,” he flashes his pearly white teeth before frowning after peering around them, “Where is your--.” Y/n gently cuts him off.

“Oh at the lab. Ever since we created his bride he refuses to leave the basement” Pausing she gives a knowing look, “You know how young love is, my Lord.”

Pete makes an ‘ah’ sound, “Yes, yes, I understand. When you return, do let him know he is missed. And that I cannot wait to meet his bride next Halloween.” He winks, adjusting the cuffs on his sleeves, “Please make yourself at home. We’re still waiting on a few more before the festivities of the night fully begin. Until then, the bar is open--as always--and do let me know if you need any more necessities for your upcoming projects.”

“Thank you, Lord Mitchell. My wife and I appreciate your hospitality and generosity greatly.” Bob shook his gloved hand, still able to feel the cold dead skin that laid beneath it. The vampire made his departure, moving to greet other guests. Y/n weaved her arm through Bob’s open arm, letting him guide her to their group of friends they spotted in the distance by the bar.

“Well look at what the wolves dragged in.” Jake Seresin, an incubus famous in both the underground and real world, was the first to notice them. With his ability to seduce and mentally bend people to his will, Jake succeeded in becoming a high profile Hollywood actor. Making it accessible for him to feed on the blood of men and women alike. Unlike Pete, who was a vampire, Jake appeared human and only took the form of his demon counterpart when he hadn’t fed in a long time.

“Seresin,” Bob nodded, glaring when the blonde creature approached to take Y/n’s hand and kiss her knuckles. He had nothing to worry about of course. Y/n was immune to Jake’s charms, threatening to experiment on him the first time he attempted to swoon her.

That had him running with his (literal) tail between his legs.

“Careful, Jake,” Came a teasing feminine voice from the side, “I hear the mad scientists have been searching for Incubi blood on the black market.” Jake sent a glare in the direction of the voice, the couple following it to find Natasha perched on a bar stool, stroking her black cat seated in her lap.

A witch, with family dating back to the Salem Witch Trials, Natasha was the type of woman people couldn’t help but fear and desire. In the small village she lived deep in the forest surrounding, rumors of the witch swarmed with many believing her responsible for the curse on the town's most corrupt and wealthy families.

Well, to them they were rumors….

Y/n slipped past Bob, opening her arms to the woman, “Lovely to see you again on this Holiday, dear Natasha.” The hug was brief, Y/n making sure to offer a light pet to the cat, piercing her with its stare.

“As to you, Madam Floyd.”

“Tell me,” Y/n leaned closer, “Were you successful?” Natashe smirked at the question, whispering under her breath.

“We shall find out once the sun rises. But I can assure you the Supreme Court will think twice before bringing forth groundbreaking cases to overturn.”

“Marvelous,” the doctor awed. She moved along to say hello to their other friends. There was Javy, a werecoyote and Jake’s best friend. The full moon affects him like it does werewolves, but he’d already consumed his monthly dose of Wolfsbane to prevent the transformation from happening.

There was Mickey, a hellhound who served as a guard for the Underworld. Tasked with keeping the secret of the supernatural hidden. One can imagine the headaches Jake gives him with being a celebrity in the real world. When Mickey became his hellhound persona, cracks in his skin appeared like molten lava.

Reuben was present, and thankfully Y/n remembered to wear her iron jewelry. The tall, handsome fairy sipped on his usual cocktail. Like Jake he was the most ‘humanlike’ of the bunch where he could easily walk amongst mortals without causing suspicion. His golden eyes were a stand out, however, often covered by contacts. Of the group he had known Mickey the longest, the two meeting centuries prior during a war between fae and goblins.

“I’m not late am I?” came a booming sound from the main entrance, all heads turning. Jake instantly groaned, the others pleased to see the Alpha werewolf, Bradley Bradshaw, in the flesh with his typical Hawaiian shirt and jeans.

“You’re right on time,” Pete announced from the top of the steps, raising a glass of red liquid. Bradley gave a two finger salute, strutting over to the group and ordered his go to--a pitcher of beer.

“Greetings, fellow myths and legends,” he drank half of the pitcher in a single gulp, winking afterwards, “at least to the humans that is.”

“What took you so long, Bradshaw?” Jake twirled his pue cue, “too busy brushing your winter coat? Or did you have to get one last howl at the moon?”

Used to the jabs, Bradley rebutted with, “Jake, good to see you again as always. You’re looking a little pale though--Did you not have time to drain a virgin before coming? I’m sure Pete can find someone in the nearby town.” Reuben whistled under his breath, Javy letting out a fool blown laugh.

“C’mon you gotta admit that was good,” he nudged Jake, who was very much offended.

“Men,” Y/n muttered, Natasha clicking her glass against hers in agreement. “They’ll never change.”

After several minutes of small talk and drinks, Pete tapped his spoon against his glass. The action is loud enough for supernatural hearing to get everyone's attention. For the mad scientists, they saw the reactions of their friends and followed their direction.

At the top of the mansion's grand staircase, Pete stood beside his wife Penny. The beautiful siren, infamous in Greek mythology for luring shipwrecked men to their death, was stunning in her black gown. Along her arms and neck, rimming her hairline were seafoam green scales, reflecting under the dim gaze of the lights.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began, “Thank you all for coming tonight. You’ve traveled from near and far, let my wife and I be the first to say Happy Halloween!” cheers broke among the crowd. Well really they were howls, moans, and chaotic laughter. “It truly is the best night of the year. And what better way to kick it off than to toast.” Penny was handed a glass of her own red liquid. To the human eye it’d be believed as wine. But to those witnessing below, they were well aware of what its contents contained.

Speaking of those in attendance, they all grabbed their own drinks and brews. Pete lifted his first, “Let us toast to the one time of year we get to leave the shadows. Where the world looks at us as more than creatures of night. They dress up as us,” chuckles echoed, “they consume everything in relation to us. They walk their streets oblivious to the fact we roam behind their shoulders.” Pete pauses, sending a sweet gaze to Penny. “To All Hallow’s Eve!”

“To All Hallow’s Eve!!’ glasses raised, everyone cheersing before downing whatever was left in their goblets. Bradley finished his first pitcher of beer, the bartender sliding down the next one. Natasha poured something out of her flask into her goblet. Leave it to the Witch to travel with her own brew.

“Alright,” Bradley raised the pitcher, “Let’s get this party started!” As if on cue the DJ, who happened to be a mummy, started to play the Halloween classics. Lights flashed on every corner, the dance floor glowing a spooky fluorescent green. Dry ice from the massive cauldron flooded the area.

Ghosts bogeyed during the Ghostbusters theme. Zombies got down and dirty to Michael Jackson’s Thriller. The children had a blast with ‘This is Halloween’ and ‘Time Warp’. Later on Nat and Y/n let loose to Rockwells ‘Somebody’s Watching Me’.

Bob kept his eyes on his wife during that one. Lowkey thinking about ending the party early.

Poker was played amongst the men. Pete even joined alongside two Harpys, Beau and Solomon. During this Y/n and Natasha conversed with Penny. They spoke of Y/n’s experiments, Natasha’s feud with the village she resides by, and Penny’s travels back to Greece earlier that year.

“Oh it was fascinating,” Penny boasted, finishing off her third glass of ‘wine’. “Still as beautiful as I remember, although it still takes time getting used to the fact they now call Anthemoessa ‘Cape Pelorum.’”

“Did you visit the Parthenon?”

“I tried,” the Siren scoffed lightly at the memory, “at night of course when no one was around, but I couldn’t get past the damn door. I’m not surprised though,” she rolled her eyes, “Athena never liked us.”

As Midnight approached the crowd began to gather on the dance floor. Of course the night could not end without playing the couple’s favorite. Once the DJ announced it was time for the grand event, Bob took Y/n’s hand, “May I have this dance, wife?”

“Why of course, husband,” she smirked. “This is our song after all.”

The others had already made way, forming their own little circle and grabbing partners of their own. There was a reason this particular song was favored over the rest. Starting from the very first verse.

“I was working in the lab, late one night. When my eyes beheld an eerie sight. For my monster from his slab, began to rise. And suddenly to my surprise.”

“He did the mash,” the moves Y/n and Bob started to do a twist, similar to Vince and Mia in the iconic dance scene of Pulp Fiction. “He did the monster mash.”

“The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash.” Natasha shimmied with Mickey. “He did the mash, it caught on in a flash.” Penny was spun by Pete. “He did the mash. He did the monster mash.”

A stunning succubus had managed to pull Jake under her spell. How fitting.

“From my laboratory in the castle east. (Wa-ooh) To the master bedroom where the vampires feat. (wa-wa-ooh) The ghouls all came from their humble abodes. (Wa-ooh) To get a jolt from my electrodes.”

Bob pulled Y/n to him, dancing chest to chest, “They did the mash, they did the monster mash.” Javy, Bradley, and Reuben were having a dance battle in the middle of the circle. “The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash. They did the mash, it caught on in a flash.” Y/n giggled, letting Bob twirl her in a circle, “They did the mash, they did the monster mash.”

It was a total spooky vibe. Monsters doing the Mash. Each time Dracula was mentioned everyone pointed to Pete, who rolled his eyes. He did, however, do the Transylvania Twist during its name drop, causing them all to hype him up.

The sun would rise at dawn, they’d all go back to living in the shadows. Back to a place where they were the villains of every story. Subjected to demise by the hero. No longer idolized and embedding fear in everyone who dared think of them. Once the sun rose, another Halloween had come and gone.

But until then, creatures of the night thrived in the darkness to the graveyard smash.

………

[squuote]

I love your ideas of your nonhuman narrator, the wires and faces are so cool :)).

Do you have any aesthetics you liked that you put in the narrator, and do you have any other hcs for narrator/anyone else?

CRACKS KNUCKLES soo glad you asked :-)c

I wouldn't rlly say I added any specific aesthetics to my design, I more of went with what I felt fit him best. Body horror and surrealism are definitely two themes I wanted to incorporate in my designs for sure though. I actually had the toughest time deciding on his design because there's so many concepts I rlly enjoyed that I wanted to add. I guess if I were to put it in a category or aesthetic of sorts, it would be 'I am quiet literally a metaphysical being that is essentially a subconscious without a physical form unless I want one' theme, if that makes any sense at all. Like, I did enjoy a lot of common interpretations of him but also I'm such a big sucker for monster and eldrich beings trying their best to be human.

Essentially, he is just a mash of nonhuman entity enjoying the concept of humans, even if he understands very little of them.

The face thing was a last minute idea I had which I just kinda rlly love, I'm rlly happy with that choice fr ^_^ and the wires were just a cool thing I enjoyed drawing, but they do actually connect to audio equipment n stuff! Funnily enough, he's supposed to have like a microphone attached that he carries but. i kept forgetting to draw it. so just pretend he still has one hehe

as for headcanons UMM. Stanley is trans. He also likes cooking. Mariella voiceclaim is philomena cunk. Spread my message to the world.

[typinggently]

It’s been a while…trick or treat?

(Napollya bc, well, I’m predictable 🫠)

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween, darling!!!!!! In honour of a full moon on Halloween, have this little snippet of an AU. I'll call it "monster mash"!!

~🎃~

Illya yanks the door open as far as the chain allows, which isn’t much. “What –“ He hisses, but the sight in front of him apparently makes him reconsider, because when he continues, his voice carries more confusion than heat. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s called a costume.” Napoleon spreads his arms to make the cape ripple. The light in the hallway is too sickly yellowish to give the fabric its proper shine, but the effect is still very nice. It even has a stand-up collar.  

Illya stares from behind the chain. “It’s a little offensive.”

“You think?” Napoleon puts his arm up in front of his face to peer at him in exaggerated Bela Lugosi fashion, then swings his arm back again to show off his necktie and waistcoat.

Illya looks on, unimpressed. There’s a twitch in his shoulder, a muscle cramp that shifts bones under his loose shirt, but his voice is even as he speaks up. “You don’t?”

It’s a brutal display of ignorance regarding Napoleon’s masterful homage, but he doesn’t have time to be offended on that behalf just now. He spares a glance at Illya’s fingers, the way his fists clench and unclench. “It’s paying respect to the greats. Now would you ask me in, please?”

At that, Illya vehemently shakes his head. “Not tonight. Check the calendar.”

“Oh will you –“ Napoleon huffs. “What do you think I came here for, huh?”

“I don’t know.” The chain glitters between them.

And it dawns on Napoleon that he really doesn’t. The embarrassment tied to that realisation threatens to swallow him up, but he gracefully shrugs it off, making the cape ripple elegantly. “I figured it would be a waste of a perfectly good costume to have you sit around on your own all night. I mean, come on. Even you have to admit it’s perfect timing.”

From the darkness of his hallway, Illya stares at him. A beat, then: “Is not a good idea. You know that.”

Napoleon shrugs. “What’s the worse that could happen?” “I kill you,” Illya says immediately.

“I mean…” Napoleon offers a smile. “Feel free to try?”

There’s another moment of silence where Illya stares from the darkness. An average person wouldn’t be able to tell that his eyes are reflecting what little light reaches him from the hallway.

Napoleon doesn’t want to embarrass himself further by talking about long nights and empty rooms, about locked doors and self-isolation. Instead, he reaches next to Illya’s door to pick up the little plastic bag he put down before ringing his doorbell. It’s bright orange and rustles. “I brought candy? No chocolate.”

There’s a flicker in Illya’s lashes, followed by a violent twitch around his mouth that for a brief second contorts his facial features, stretches them and twists, melts, bares his canines, stretches his muscles, cracks his jaw, then it’s gone and he slams the door.

Napoleon stands. The bag rustles. Faintly, he hears the clatter of the chain.

Illya opens the door and steps aside, gestures. “Come in.”

~🎃~

I got really into my head with this one, planning ahead and getting lost in this idea, so maybe this doesn't establish the set up as well as it should. To explain things a little more: suspiciously cold gentleman spends his 287th Halloween petting very large dog. Monsterfuckers, feel free to consider the possible follow up "Monster Smash". Pumking emoji.

[xzerosparrowx]

Just a little lovecraft/stranger things wip that I wrote in an hour. Going for *"is it ptsd from war or an elder god?" vibes* here.

-

Frazier & Clarke Attorney 

January 18, 1946

Hawkins, Indiana 

To Mr. Stephen Harrington,

With deep regret and sadness we are to inform you of the recent passing of Richard and Diane Harrington, who died on the 16th of January. 

Funeral arrangements have been made as per their request by Executor to the estate, Mr Theodore Wheeler. The funeral will be held at St Mary’s church on the 21st of January and the reading of the will shall take place at the Harrington Estate on the 23rd of January. 

Please read and sign a copy of the death certificates enclosed with this letter. 

We are deeply sorry for your loss Mr Harrington, and for any questions or concerns relating to the Harrington finances and estate, please do not hesitate to reach out.

With sympathy,

S.W Clarke

Attorney

Time does not exist in war. The movements between point A and B only punctuated by the bullets that rip through men, the desperate haste of digging a foxhole and bittersweet letters. To come back from war is to realise the world continued to spin in your absence; friends aged, pets died and children were born. Stephen Harrington had gone to war with the foolish enthusiasm and invincibility of a boy not yet turned eighteen and had come back something different. A soldier. A monster of his memories.

He reads the letter again, the death certificate with his parents names stamped across it in black ink and tries to remember Hawkins, tries to remember Lovers Lake, and the woods and Skull Rock. All of it replaced and malformed by rain flooding trenches, woods hiding Germans and entire towns in France reduced to rubble and rock. He rubs at the collar around his neck, his hand trembling slightly as he grabs the cool glass of bourbon in front of him and a slender hand gently stops him from taking it. 

“Steve, you’re going to be fine,” Robin reassures gently, smiling sadly across the little table. Everything about her has been made gentle after the war, the years worrying about Steve and the hours working for the Office of Strategic Services had hardened her. Sharpened Robin Buckley into a fine point of love and care, a fierce and loyal friend.

“I can’t picture it, Hawkins. I’m scared I won’t recognise it,” Steve breathes, giving Robin a weak smile before taking a large swig of the bourbon. It burns his throat, a cooling fire in his chest that settles and soothes.

“A lot can change in four years, but it’ll be like seeing an old friend. The outside might’ve changed but the core is still the same,” Robin smiles, a fond expression that lingers on her bright face just as an attendant walks by with bowls of lamb stew and mashed potato. 

“We’re not friends with Hawkins, Birdie,” Steve scoffs, mixing his potatoes into the thin brown gravy. 

“No, but the kids will be there.”

Steve can only smile and nod in understanding, unsure how to tell Robin the exact type of terror that he knows is waiting for him in Hawkins. He knows how different he is now, something grotesque forged in blood and ash and mud. The children will see it. Will know what he had done in the war.    

It is late afternoon by the time the train arrives at Fort Wayne. Steve and Robin hurrying from the station to catch the only bus going to Hawkins, throwing their suitcases onto the railing and Steve letting Robin take the side with the window. There is a woman in front of him, blonde hair and a dark, dark red scarf tied around her neck.

Blood. Blood is thick, stains hands and clothes. Blood smells like copper. Blood gurgles out, spreads slowly in the dirt and fills cracks. Blood is black at night. 

[barry-j-blupjeans]

For the Monster Mash prompts- 10 and Blupjeans please :)

10. Zombie? Nah, that’s just my buddy. 

--

Barry had a boring life and he was not afraid to admit it. He worked the night shift at a graveyard, which meant he never went out anywhere (not that he ever wanted to). He ate oatmeal every evening before work and brought along a bag of granola to munch on during the night. He liked collecting and pressing flowers because it was an excellent way to have something to look forward to. He ate TV dinners afterward and watched a collection of shows that hadn't had any new epsodies in about thirty years. The most exciting thing he had to do was tell people to get off the grass.

Tonight was no different than any other night. He had done his second perimeter patrol and was working his way through the rows. He went passed the cracked stone pillar that Mr. and Mrs. Johnson were under and took a right at the marble stone of Hewy Louis's grave. They really needed to cut the grass sometime soon, but Barry supposed they wouldn't do it until the fifth of next month like they always did. Still, it was long enough to tickle his ankles, and if it got any longer, it'd be hard to see Percy Gate's grave from where the marking sat in the ground.

Another turn. And another. Barry absentmindedly tried to dislodge the piece of oat that was stuck in his teeth. He rounded section E off and shone his flashlight over it one last time before making his way toward section F. The sooner he got through with this round, the sooner he could go back to his post and watch a cooking video on youtube that went way over his head.

Yes, Barry Bluejeans was a boring man with a boring life. Nothing cool or exciting ever happened to-

Chunch.

Barry turned, his flashlight held high. He scanned the rows of section F, trying to find where the sound came from. A raccoon, probably, or an opossum. Maybe a deer, if he was lucky. It wasn't unusual to get animals in here around this time of night, but one must have hit a headstone or walked over a marking, because that was definitely not the sound he usually associated with the critters around here.

Chunch!

Okay, no, that wasn't an animal. That sounded more like shifting dirt. Barry tilted his right ear up, listening for something more. He turned when he heard the sound again. It wasn't coming from section F, but rather the secluded path leading between it and section C. The tall grass had worn away to dirt over here, leaving an empty space next to the fences. It was a good few dozen feet away from the nearest graves and as Barry approached, the sound got louder.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he got a closer look. A fair bit off the beaten path, there was a decent size bump in the ground. There were no animals in sight and, thankfully, no people either. The last time someone had tried to grave rob, he had nearly shit his pants out of fear. For a moment, the graveyard was silent except for the crickets and Barry's breathing.

There was a loud thump beneath his feet and he scrambled back, nearly dropping his flashlight. The mound of dirt shuddered and shifted, overturning slightly. And then there it was again- the crunching, shifting sound of dirt. It happened once more, and then twice, getting louder as more dirt overturned.

A mole, Barry thought wildly. It's a mole. It's expected from some kind of zoo and inhabited the graveyard, which is normal and totally fi-

Something shot up from the ground and Barry fell back with a yelp, this time definitely dropping his flashlight. He hurried to pick it up, but his hands were too sweaty to get a grip on it the first time, so he had to try again. In the dark, he could make out another thing emerge from the ground, creating a hole in the dirt. By the time he got the flashlight back in his hands, a larger part of it was emerging.

It was a head. And hands- arms, now- pulling themselves up from the ground. Their skin was a warm brown but it was covered in dirt and grass and bits of rock. They settled their elbows on the ground and pulled the rest of their body up, disrupting the ground. There were leaves and twigs in their- in her hair, as if she had just been running through a forest. When she finally got all the way out, she kneeled, panting. Her clothing was ripped, bloody in someplace. Barry felt a little sick.

Finally, she seemed to notice him. No. No, she noticed the light first, and squinted up at it, before realizing he was attached to it. They stared at each other.

Her eyes were so bright.

What was the protocol for this? Barry had been working here for so long that he couldn't even remember what the rules and regulations folder looked like. What was he supposed to say to his boss? "Heyyy, this is my friend, I know she looked super dead and zombie-like, but it's chill, I promise. We're buddies now! Also, ignore the huge hole in the ground please"? How in the world was he supposed to phrase that??

"Where-" she cleared her throat and it turned into a coughing fit. Maybe she wasn't dead? Did zombies near to breathe? She certainly needed to breathe and she was gasping for air like she hadn't had it in years. Which like, maybe? No, no that didn't make sense. She was alive. Normal, alive woman who came out of the ground and needed his help. Barry shuffled towards her, patting her hard on the back. A glob of dirt came out of her mouth.

"My name is Barry," Barry said. "Who- how can I help you? What can I do?" She took another large breath and it came out in a wheeze.

"Where's Taako?" she panted. "I- I need Taako-"

"Are you... hungry? Or-?"

"No," she said, jerking her gaze toward him sharply. "My brother. Taako. Where is he?"

"I- I don't-"

"He's probably looking for me," she said, now looking over Barry's shoulder as if Taako would be right there. She tried to push herself back to her feet but stumbled and fell back down. Barry caught her before her knees could take the brunt of the damage.

"Careful," he said. "I can help you look for him. Maybe we should, uh, call the police or-"

"No," she said, with such finality that Barry didn't even question it. "Taako was- Taako was right here, by the- the... where are we?"

A lack of oxygen from being buried alive could probably cause brain damage, Barry was pretty sure. Barry pursed his lips. Was this like, a dementia situation, where you shouldn't tell the person what was actually accurate and went along with what they wanted? Better, uh, better safe than sorry, Barry figured.

"Where do you think we are?" he asked. The women looked at him like he was the insane one. Yeah, sure, whatever, he couldn't fault her. He'd probably be mixed up too if someone had tried to bury him alive.

"Long Oak Forest," she said. "Where do you think we are?"

Ohhh, boy. This was going to be a long night.

[sketchybusiness4130]

Honestly I'm really surprised that no ones gone and made a dating sim for fnaf sb so here's some ideas I made for a crossover mod within Monster Prom about Security breach around a year and a half ago.

As someone who might only know of sb and nothing what monster prom is let me go into some detail of the game before I share my ideas

Monster prom is a dating sim set in a high school with almost all of the characters being monsters

So think like monster high but with crack shit humor and everyones gearing up for prom night in a weeks(you can change how long a game last so it could be only one week or two) that game is also multiplayer so you can share the experience with friends!

Back when I had writtin this out I had planned on using the in-game mod menu to make this into a mod but with almost every idea i come up with and get really determined over I lost interest after getting into the actual making it into the thing phase. I gift these ideas for ANYONE to pick up and use! all I ask is to let me see what you make

Now with that out of the way, onto the actual content!

Monster prom & security breach crossover ideas

Freddy and the rest of the cast are in spooky high school wow! 

Event storyline with Freddy that has him and Bonnie Hook up after finding out Bonnie didnt acctly die. if you play your cards right you get the chance join them ;3

Monty and Damian chilling together and then getting into a fist fight and/or a fight over who can cause the most damage 

Vanny event that also has Jerry pop up at least once and the two bond over killing people

Freddy bonding with Liam over being adopt dads (liam is a "dad" in cannon apparently)

I'm gonna have all of em be monsters rather than robots but I cant decide if I want to do this with Freddy too mainly cause I really want to have a 

scene where Gregory pops out of fredds stomach hatch which spooks and horrifies everyone watching, someone exslapes that OMG Freddy YOUr Pregernore?!? 

Vanny and zoe bonding over being fan girls

Vanny got catfished by Afton and is now stuck taking care of him outside of school hours

Sun and vanny scene that starts off with they getting along pretty well and they both start listing off things the two both like and then vanny shares she loves killing kids which ends that budding friendship real quick

Gregory with a Fazblaster will always end well! (hint, it doesnt) roxy gets blinded and if u fuck up the choice so do you

Aaravi finds out that a human child is just chilling amongst all of these “monsters” and self proclaims herself as Gregory's new guardian or something along those lines. Gregory is taking none of her shit at first but likes her attitude and they end up as good friends/a sibling dynamic

“DONT YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS MONSTERS ARE KID?! You cant just chill with these creatures, you must be on your guard at all times. I'll show you the ways “ something like this 

Gregory in a small way reminds Aaravi of her brother, and even more so for Michael. ido how I'll be able to convey this smoothly but damnit it has to happen somehow 

There will be events that lead to odd places around or near the school. Sun made a playroom under the gym bleachers, vanny event/storyline leads you down into the basement to meet afton, Chica event that has the two of you fall into said basement

Maybe chicas storyline can be the two of you searching for montys monster mash thing? 

Ok so freddy is still a robot but hes a ghost haunting said robot, aka Freddy is Michael afton. 

Gregory: “i wanna be like you freddy-”

Freddy:”thats great superstar!”

Gregory: “a kick ass immortal robot >:3”

Freddy, horrorifed: “no you dont” 

Freddys lived a long ass life

Player gets punted into the Sun, aka Sun the monster

Vanny storyline has you help her try to get out of having to take care of Afton, one of the final choices is on how to this [1]he's so old a frail, lets just burn him in a fire [2] beat him at his favorite game, princess quest.

[1] would cause you to fail and have afton be quick to say i always come back with vanny agreeing by giving examples of how many times he has already died and come back, some of which was because of a fire! She loses confidence and you lose your chance forever

[2] has afton scoff at the idea of anyone managing to do such for HE is a master at the game and is the true number one fan and if you dares say otherwise your in for a reckoning, you in turn say “if ur so confident then there should be no problem with wagering my win for vanny’s freedom”(maybe rephrase this) and then commences the most epic game of princess quest, the narrator before you get into it comments on the fact that lucky for you ur a speedrunning champion for old arcade games like this one. It ends up being a close game but you manage to beat the old basdter's high score!

Moons eyes change from blue to pure red depending on his mood

Sun likes to hide out during gym but can't get the braves to full on skip so that's why he made his playroom under the bleachers. Plus no one ever goes under there besides the injured trying to crawl away from their death

Among us Gregory vent meme

Gonna have each of the bois be something completely different than the other, freddy as already stated is the only one that's still a robot, monty is a were-gator that stays in his gator form as often as he can because he’s self conscious, Sun and moon are some kind of doll. Magic or some shit makes their change, Gregory is still a full on human. As for Chica and Roxy, I'm not quite sure what I wanna do for them other than just furry. 

Furry roxy, then bird thing for chica, air people? Yes, when it get brought up joke about it “this will most likely end up proved non canon by the next game but who cares!” 

Gregory: Freddy, I'm serious! 

Freddy: hi serious, im 

Ok Plan is to make the mod with only Sun Moon and Vanny to start off. 

So that would be at least 3 to 4 different routes to make. I want to also throw in a small handful of random events. After making/posting the final result i get to work on update GlamRock, which will add the rest of the cast along with a shit ton of new random events.

Someone brings up how her mouth never moves “annoyed: look its a skin condition”  

Vanny Route, activated after buying a rabbit's foot

Sun Route, you get pulled into this route after buying sun-drops

Moon route, is gotten by buying moon-drops 

Nope ok you get Sun AND Moon’s routes after buying “celestial themed candy” 

Depending on your choices durn this route it will branch off into 3 different endings. Similar to how Aaravi and Hex’s routes work in monster camp ;>

One event has you join sun during one of his shifts at the daycare he works at (guest star of gregory? Depends if i get around to fricking drawing him) 

Moon “moonlights” as a aerial dancer, durning his route you get to watch him durning one of his performances. Joke is made on how much you would love to see him on a pole ;>(this whole game has so many horry jokes, tho you can turn off any nsfw realted stuff through settings)(even then nothing explicit happens or shows btw! At most Just implied) 

During both of sun and moon’s routes you get the chance to pair up with both depending on ur choices 

Costume ideas

Vanny, white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland

Moon, pied piper

Gregory, crying child/ghost

Roxy, Red Riding Hood

~

And thats everything I wrote! As you can probably tell I did not bothing with polishing this up much, if I did I'll never getting around to actually posting this(<- already been procrastinating on posting bc of this reason) so I just decided to post as is.

[megamangx]

caillou does looksmaxxing

caillou came home from school looking at tyhe phone "hello callou how was school" his mum said and he punched her "shut the fuck up bitch i am the alpha male and tehe alphta male is the leadr" he said and she cry witch make callou laugh like the bateman

he was on phone looking at the toktok "i am going to have a good jaw and be leader and ceo one day" calilou said as he trook a hammer and started smashing his jaw bones "i will bonesmash and become sexyman like clivian mupthy from perky binders" he said and smashed his face but then he cracked bones and was pain "the pain means its working" callou siad hbammering harder

his dad commed in "calillou i am worryed about this thing on the internats you watch now why not watch cartoons like a normal kid"

caillou starttyed mewing at him to asset his alpha makle domance but then a click happen "AHHH MY JAW IS STICKED HELP IT HELPS I AM PAINED" he said as he had jawlock.

they call 999 and takened caillou to hospital to get surgery and when he waked up they taked a mirror "we fixed what we could but you did damage to jaw and skull" said the doctor and he saw mirror as his jaw looked like shyguy scp monster and his face was all messed up and disfigured "i need to looksmax more i just didn';t do it enough" callou said as he hit his head on wall to mash bones again and the doctors gived him drugs

"i don't know what we can do to help him is the youth in trouble?" the doctor looked at the camera

the end?

[koreposion]

A morning

Freshly plant the seeds.

The clinking and clunking of pots and pans fill the morning air as Horror gets ready. Killer has already dragged himself and Dust out of the bed. They all simply wait for Cross and Nightmare to arrive as they always do.

"Dust...Dust wake up." Killer nudges the sleeping form of Dust awake as he holds a book. It's filled with different sudoku puzzles, which sudoku is a thing that Killer is famously bad at.

"Hm?" Dust wakes up, his eyelight glowing pale and white. Messy circles as they drift towards Killer and his empty gaze, "What?"

"Puzzle trouble, love!" Killer says in mocking British accent, "I'm in a spot of trouble and I need your help!"

The joke goes over Dust's head as he simply leans over and gets a look at the puzzle. Letting out a soft noise he picks up a pen and fills in some of the spaces for Killer. Watching him, Killer smiles knowing that it's waking his teammate up. Even if it was hard for the both of them to sleep, it was just as hard to stay awake.

Horror cooks as they two solve the sudoku, making sure to make rice porridge and grits. One will be cooked soft enough for Dust to enjoy and the rest can eat grits. A simple start to breakfast as the one-eyed monster starts cracking eggs.

Soon Nightmare and Cross enter the kitchen, Cross already dressed for the day while Nightmare is dressed in loose sleepwear. Cross pulls out a chair for Nightmare and lets his master sit before he does. Taking his place by Dust and Killer, Cross looks over at the sudoku puzzle.

"It's wrong." He states matter-of-factly as he picks up the pen and corrects the mistake made by the sleepy pair, "You two need to get some food in you and then take a shower."

Nightmare hums in agreement as he pours himself a cup of coffee, he adds in a lot of sugar and too much cream. Though, he takes a sip of it with an air of happiness. The sweet tooth of a bitter god was one to behold.

Horror watched this, saying nothing but placing a bowl of fruit on the table. Cross wass the first one to grab something out of the bowl. A big round orange that he began to peel as Killer and Dust continued with their morning routine.

"A five letter word...for a gathering of justice" Dust spoke, his voice scratchy and deep. He leaned onto Killer, placing his chin on the shoulder of the other, "Court."

Killer looked at Dust and gave him a huge grin, "If it's not that I have no fuckin clue what it'd be." He then wrote it down in the boxes.

"That's because you barely have any words in your brain in the first place." Cross speaks a casual insult and feeds Dust a slice of orange. Dust licks off Cross' fingers as he consumes the fruit.

"You're just too dumb to understand greatness." Killer replies, taking an apple from the bowl and quickly slicing it with unseen magic. He then feeds Dust an apple slice, smiling as the tired skeleton then licks off his fingers.

"Stop feeding Dust." Horror cuts through the conversation as he places a bowl of porridge, eggs, and breakfast sausage in front of Dust, "Eat your fruit yourself, Dust you can have yogurt."

Dust nods as he picks up a spoon and mashed all of his food together. Cross and Killer look off in embarrassment as they eat their own fruits. Realizing that they've irritated Horror with morning banter at the table.

Nightmare smiles as the order is brought to the table by a few simple words. Horror brings the inky mass his food next, placing a plate filled with pancakes and a slab of meat.

Then the rest of the food is brought to the table on plates and in bowls, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, muffins and morning beverages. Cross and Killer make their own plates accordingly and Horror waits for them to finish.

As they both grab their food, Horror is the last to eat as he fills up his plate. He then also hands Dust a cup of yogurt.

"Thank you for the meal." Nightmare says as he cuts into his food with a fork and knife, the contents of his plate covered in syrup.

In turn eveyone thanks Horror, grateful to have him there at the table.

Horror blushes, a ruddy red covering his cheeks as he just hums and stuffs his face.

Just another start to the day.

[shaymcsudonim]

You Know, When the First Series Came Out...

...I was kind of surprised that there weren't more Castlevania Monster Mash AMVs. I'm crap with video editing, so I wasn't going to do it, but it honestly seemed like low-hanging fruit that nobody was grabbing.

Except, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The series doesn't lend itself well to crack AMVs, and Monster Mash didn't work well as a serious Character Song for Isaac or Hector. Both of them had a different relationship to their creations than Frankenstein did to his, so it probably would have been too much of a stretch.

Then we got Castlevania Nocturne, and we see a would-be forgemaster who fits more closely into the Frankenstein archetype, in the sense that his creations go against the purpose for which they were created.

And sing while doing it.

Meaning that The Monster Mash could conceivably be included on a playlist of Character Songs for Eduoard.

And I think that's beautiful.

[miniscrew-anon]

Favorite vampire duo ficlet featuring the line “he’s your daddy”

—-

“Do you ever think about Bram Stoker?”

Dark leaned right, furiously mashing buttons on his controller. His avatar stepped back to avoid Shadows' next attack but was caught in the combo. His avatar was thrown into the air and had his head ripped off. Match over. “Fucking fucker fuck-! What are you talking about? Who the hell is Bram Stoker?”

Shadow sighed disappointedly. “C’mon man. Aren’t you old guys supposed to be all cultured and shit? What have you been doing for the last few centuries? Other than not setting up a stock portfolio.”

“Can you get off my back about that already?”

“You’re a million years old and you work for minimum wage, dude. There’s living in your parents basement until you're forty, and then there's whatever you’re doing.”

The character select menu opened up and Dark quickly switched to someone else. That other one was useless. He’d pick someone with a shit ton of fire power this time. He needs to take Shadows head off. The little shit has been getting a bit too smug recently. “I’ve been busy. Mostly trying to survive. Drinking myself to undeath. A few crusades. You know, the usual.”

Shadow clicked his tongue. “And yet you don’t know the father of all erotic vampire lore.”

Dark pried his eyes off the screen to stare at the younger vampire. “What?”

“Bram Stoker wrote Dracula, you uncultured heathen.” Shadow rolled his eyes at Dark’s confusion. “How did you not know that? This is like a Hylian not knowing about Hylia. Or a basic bitch not knowing about pumpkin spice lattes-”

“What the hell are you talking about? Erotic vampire lore? What?”

“Think about it,” Shadow started, eyes glowing in the darkness of his apartment. “Stoker wrote the original broody, sexy vampire, right? Rich guy in a castle with hot vampire babes and a ‘take you passionately’ attitude? All the forebringers of modern cliches. His work inspired future film adaptations that have dark, alluring men pulling unsuspecting victims into their thrall. He took vampires from some ugly monsters in dark alleys into gracious counts with depth and sex appeal.”

“And your point is…?” Dark turned his head back to the game. While he listened to Shadows horrible reasoning his on-screen counterpart met his bloody demise.

Shadow grinned mischievously. “I’m saying that you owe him big time. You do know that the only reason you’re getting laid these days is because of him, right?”

“I’d ask you to elaborate but I really don’t want you to.”

“Well you know how Twi is into the whole vampire thing, right?”

“Yes I do. And I regret telling you about that every single day,” Dark sighed.

Shadow stuck his tongue out. “Right, well. Why do you think he’s into it?”

Dark side eyed his friend. He's not happy about the way Shadow smiles like a shark smelling blood. “Don’t-”

“Because of decades of sexy vampire lore - because of Bram Stoker! He’s the daddy of sexy vampires. He’s your daddy.”

“Stop talking to me.” Dark groans. “Stop talking in general holy shit. I’m going to kill you-”

Shadow giggles like the insane demon he is. He sits up fully, barely paying attention to the TV but still managing to kill Dark’s avatar with ease. “Don't get upset now. I’m just pointing out a fact.”

Dark cursed as his character was ripped in half brutally. Fatality. “Fuck this game! Piece of shit-! And I’m not the only vampire here, asshole. Whatever messed up logic you’re applying to me can be said for your bleeder, too.”

Shadow rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. Rain doesn’t care about that stuff. He does it because despite whatever he might say, I’m his favorite person. He’d feed me no matter what. But you, unlike me, have no redeeming qualities. So your only chance at getting some is to be someone's personal spank bank fantasy.”

Dark cracked his knuckles. Fuck doing this virtually. “You know what? I’m going to rip your head off.”

Shadow smirked. “If you think that’ll shut me up then you’re in for a surprise.”

———

-and after that Shadows dismembered head offers to get tickets to a showing of the original Dracula at a local theatre for twark because he’s an asshole who takes the bit all the way to the bank

So I was googling because I was wondering when vampires turned sexy and it was around the time of Dracula in the late 1800s. There were a few foreign novels too. Before that they were depicted as purely demonic and evil. So I figured that would be a fun lil factoid to write about. Especially when I thought about how old Dark might be and how if he predates Dracula then he’d have been around when vampires were only seen as monsters. No wonder he was so surprised Twilight didn’t outright reject him.