#*spooky ghoul noises*

[iammatthewfritz]

I am working on so many fan edits (both 9-1-1 and watcher) for the week of Halloween while finishing up my first ever watcher fan art for the day of Halloween that once it’s all over imma nap for a decade-

*remembers I’m driving 3-4 hours to see Dan and Phil’s TIT on the Sunday after Halloween*

… fuck.

(dw i’m so excited to see @trashworldblog and the gayest of gays live)

[madeimpact]

@tetramulti || SMACK CAM

Okay — immediately weirded out by the lack of much of a response from the kid. This is a kid, right?

Ears perking and tail swishing in his suspicion, Noctis opens his mouth to try a different question, to see if he'll get a more helpful response. But before he can get any different words out, he sees the live snake in the kid's grasp, held with the same casualness and carelessness as a rubber one.

❝ Hey, you should probably put that do — WHOA!! ❞

It's a good thing Noctis has quick reflexes, and even better that they're aided by a newly gained feline instinct, or this could've ended much worse for both him and the snake. He manages to catch the poor thing, but not without letting out an involuntary mewl in his surprise. The fur on his feline appendages bristles as he struggles with the creature, which also wriggles in his grasp to try and get free. It ends up in varied positions along his arms, shoulders, neck, and back before eventually gaining its freedom and hitting the ground slithering.

Well, at least it wasn't a snake of the aggressive variety. The prince's ears slant back, unamused in the moment. He'll probably be able to dryly laugh about this later — he just needs a second to come down from the minor heart attack.

❝ Verrry funny. If you're not local, you definitely picked up on the customs real quick. ❞

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!Marauders + Lily x muggle!Reader

The haunted house loomed over the darkened street like a castle out of a horror film. You had been here before—multiple times, in fact—so the spooky, creaky mansion didn’t faze you anymore. But your partners? Oh, that was a different story.

Lily stood beside you, eyes glinting in amusement as she looked at her boyfriends. Remus was calm and collected as ever, but the other three? Well, they had spent the last ten minutes bragging about how “nothing in a muggle haunted house could possibly scare them.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not that scary,” you reassured them with a grin as you stood at the entrance. Your hand brushed against Sirius’s for a moment, and you could feel his nervous energy, despite the bravado he’d been putting on.

“Please,” Sirius scoffed, “this will be nothing. Right, Prongs?”

James adjusted his glasses, puffing out his chest. “Right. It’ll be fine. We’ve faced far worse.”

Peter, standing between them, gave a tentative smile, his eyes darting nervously toward the shadowy door. “Yeah… piece of cake.”

Remus chuckled softly, and Lily shook her head with a knowing smirk. You caught her eye, both of you silently preparing yourselves for the inevitable.

With a deep breath, you led the group inside.

The first few moments were quiet. Dim lights flickered overhead as the group walked cautiously down the narrow corridor. A few eerie moans echoed through the air, and Sirius rolled his eyes. “Is this it? A few spooky noises? Pfft.”

But then the floor creaked loudly behind him, and the group froze. James was the first to whirl around, his wand hand twitching out of habit, though you’d insisted they leave the magic behind. “Did you hear that?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Remus said, his tone calm. “Just part of the experience.”

But then a loud BANG reverberated through the room, and Peter yelped, stumbling back into Sirius. “Bloody hell!”

Sirius grabbed his shoulders. “Calm down, Wormtail. We’ve got this.”

You bit back a laugh, knowing full well what was coming. A shadowy figure darted across the far end of the hallway, and James immediately stepped closer to you, his bravado starting to crack.

You muffled your chuckle as you looked at James with a serious face, "Jamie, don't worry, it's not that scary."

“Uh, I’m not scared. Just… staying close.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased.

Lily’s grin widened, but she stayed quiet, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

As you reached the next section, the lights dimmed further, and eerie fog began to curl around your feet. A low growl filled the air, and before anyone could react, a figure dressed as a grotesque zombie lunged out from the darkness, arms outstretched.

“Okay, I lied. RUN!” you shouted, barely keeping the laughter out of your voice as you sprinted forward with Lily and Remus.

It was chaos.

James let out a loud yell, grabbing Peter by the back of his shirt. “We’re under attack! Go, go, go!”

Sirius, eyes wide, grabbed Peter’s other arm and pushed him forward. “Prongs, grab Peter and RUN!”

Peter was practically being dragged by the other two as they scrambled down the hallway, their shouts and exclamations filling the air.

“Sirius, this is your fault!” Peter cried out, voice cracking with panic.

“Why is it my fault?” Sirius shot back, barely avoiding another costumed ghoul who popped out of a hidden corner.

“You said it wouldn’t be scary!”

Meanwhile, you, Lily, and Remus had stopped at the next corner, standing calmly as you watched the chaos unfold. The actors who were supposed to be scaring you all now stood frozen, bewildered by the sheer volume and drama of the Marauders. Even the man in the zombie costume hesitated, glancing at his fellow actors as if to say, What’s going on?

Lily’s laughter finally bubbled out. “Oh, Merlin… they’re scaring the actors!”

Remus grinned, arms crossed casually as he watched his friends shriek and sprint away from another costumed ghost. “It’s honestly impressive how much they overreact.”

You wiped away a tear of laughter, your sides aching. “Should we go save them?”

Lily smirked. “Nah, let’s see how long they can keep this up.”

The haunted house staff looked genuinely worried now, the loud commotion drawing them out from their hiding spots. One of them, a tall man with a skeleton mask, cautiously approached you and whispered, “Uh… are your friends okay?”

You grinned. “Oh, they’ll be fine. They’re just a little dramatic.”

A piercing scream echoed from up ahead, followed by James shouting, “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!”

Sirius’s voice rang out next, just as loud, “If we don’t make it, I want you all to know—IT WAS PETER’S FAULT!”

Peter sputtered indignantly, still being pulled along as they ran deeper into the haunted house. “WHAT?”

As another shadow loomed overhead, Sirius screamed, “NOPE, NOPE, NOPE! WE’RE DONE!”

You, Remus, and Lily casually followed them out, still composed and calm as ever.

James saw you first. “What took you so long?! We’ve been fending for ourselves!”

You smirked. “You seem to be doing just fine.”

Sirius glared at the spooky décor. “This place is a death trap.”

Peter catching his breath, glared at you like you had set him up. "You could've warned us, you know."

“I did,” you reminded him, trying not to laugh outright. “You’re the ones who didn’t listen.”

Lily crossed her arms, smirking. “I think next time, the boys should stick to ghost stories around the fireplace.”

James was still shaking his head in disbelief. “I can't believe I was bested by a Muggle haunted house.”

Remus chuckled, throwing his arm over James' shoulder. “Next time, we’ll get you some ghost-repelling spells."

"NEXT TIME?? When did you get the idea that there was going to be a next idea?" Sirius shrieked.

James threw his hands up in defeat. “You are never dragging us into anything like that again!”

“Oh, we’ll see,” you teased.

Lily nudged you playfully, whispering, “Next year, we should definitely bring them back.”

You nodded with a mischievous grin.

prompt : “Don’t worry, it’s not that scary.” “Okay, I lied. RUN!” from @thatdammchickennugget's prompt list!!

[chelseeebe]

fate steps in

18+. mdni. no smut but my blog is strictly 18+.

day two of spooky week is a little meet cute with stevie who helps poor reader when she’s scared

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

Eddie's idea. 

Clearly some scheme to get the girl he was seeing this week to cradle under his arm instead. 

He’d gotten the whole gang in on it, Steve was surrounded by couples. Robin and Vickie. Nancy and Jonathan. Eddie and whatsherface. 

And Steve. 

Left to wander the mazes on his own. Stuck by himself or with some stranger on the ferris wheel. 

Robin had tried to convince him to find a date, rambling through girls he’d been on one date with or a list of names he’d vaguely mentioned before. It’s not lost on him that he was the awkward fifth wheel here. 

“It's not like the others.. they can actually touch you here," Eddie amazes, walking the group through the shabby makeshift gates. 

Chance would be a fine thing. Steve thinks to himself. 

It'd been a while since anyone had touched him like that. Well, touched him at all, really. 

He sighs walking around the shoddily painted amusements, trailing behind the group while his eyes latch onto every single loved up couple walking past. 

He also sighs as Eddie guides them up to the entrance of the haunted manor, prepared to wander around aimlessly on his own while Eddie shuffles off to the nearest dark corner and the rest of them run through as fast as they can. 

Nancy clings onto Jonathan’s arm, Robin and Vickie laugh at the jumpscares, unfazed by the entire thing. 

And Eddie? He’s gone the second the lights flash back on, disappearing into the abyss like this wasn’t his idea in the first place. 

A clown of some sort pops out of the wall right between the group and Steve, too engrossed in their conversations to realise he’s no longer following behind. 

His eyes dart around the dark corridor, no trace of his friends to see. Oh fuck. 

Steve’s not scared of generic clown masks or fake blood but he really, really didn’t want to do this on his own. 

A deep cackle begins from behind or maybe in front, it’s too dark for him to see clearly, not with the lights flashing in his face too. 

It’s just an actor. An actor. He reminds himself. Snarling in his ear as they pass, before letting out the most guttural scream he’s ever heard. 

He grabs onto the nearest object. Nails digging into the soft surface as the lights flash rapidly in his face, the actors hiss and laugh at his reaction, no doubt amused by his petrified face. 

This object, just so happens to be a hand. 

Your hand to be exact. 

Looking equally as terrified as he was. 

“Shit! I’m sorry!” he yells over the ominous background noise, dropping your hand as quickly as he’d grabbed it. 

Your eyes are wide, shaking in your spot, “please hold my hand again,” offering your tremoring palm back out to him. 

Steve does so, gladly. Clasping your hand again rapidly, finding quick solace in the warmth of your palm, the gentle squeezing of your fingertips against his knuckles. 

“I think.. I think they’re gone,” he laughs awkwardly, hoping you’ll want to hold his hand for the entirety of this hell house. 

You nod, clearly still reeling from the scare. “Can we leave before they come back?” tugging gently at his arm. 

He’s more than happy to get the fuck out of there before he embarrasses himself in front of you again. 

Steve leads the way, a knight in shining armour ready to lead you through the ghouls in the dark. His friends still nowhere to be found, as to be expected. It doesn’t really seem to matter anymore, he had a pretty girl holding his hand and no friends around to tease him about it. 

“Are you here on your own?” you ask warily, probably wondering why he was stood yelping in a dark corridor on his own, second guessing taking his hand. 

“No no, my friends are here.. somewhere, they all walked off,” trying to reassure you that he wasn’t some creep trying to prey on scared women.

You nod, squeezing his fingers as the door ahead slams shut, “oh, me too.. bitches,” laughing to yourself. 

“Yeah, bitches,” Steve repeats, only slightly hoping this scary house went on forever. 

“I hate these things,” swallowing loudly, “I didn’t even wanna come in here,” he can feel your eyes on the side of his face, eyeing the nervous sweat, no doubt. “But I’m glad I did now,” averting your eyes as quickly as possible, chuckling into the darkness. 

His heart is in his throat, and not because of the ghouls hidden behind doors. 

“Me too,” smiling sincerely at some girl he didn’t know the name of but was pretty certain he’d marry. 

When you do eventually reach the end, enduring plenty more failed jumpscares and reassuring hand squeezes, he doesn’t want to let go. 

The outside is cold, much colder now he wouldn’t have you right by his side. 

“You know, I wasn’t even really scared,” he mutters into your ear, grateful that his thumping heart could finally rest. 

“Oh totally,” you smirk, “me neither,” wiping your clammy palms down your jeans. 

He gets a proper look at the girl he had been clinging onto for the past twenty minutes. You look different in this light, even prettier than before, especially now the terror had been wiped off your face. 

Someone yells something from across the courtyard, your head flying around to find the voice, meaning you must recognise the voice. Their hand hurriedly beckons you over, a gaggle of girls and their unimpressed boyfriends linger, waiting for you like his friends were undoubtedly doing somewhere. 

“Oh shit,” pouting slightly as you turn back around, “I gotta go, I’ll see you around.. thank you again!” before you’re gone, scurrying over to the group with one last glance back at Steve before they pull you away. 

A harsh hand claps him on the shoulder, jeering right into his ear, “well who was that, Stevie boy?” Eddie swings into Steve’s peripheral, with that arrogant grin Steve wishes he could slap right off. 

He scoffs, shaking his hand from his shoulder, “that was.. that was.. I don’t know,” realising he’d never even asked your name, let alone your number. 

“Well shit, what were you doing in there? We’ve been waiting for you for ages man,” wiggling his brows suggestively, as if Steve would ever behave like such a miscreant like him. 

“Gross,” grimacing at Eddie’s blatant disrespect, “we were just talking,” his eyes turning to scan the crowd, desperate to find you once more. 

“If that’s what just talking looks like, I think that we should go back in there,” slinging his arm over the shoulder of Stacy or Hannah, whatever her name is. 

Steve begins to walk off, unwilling to waste anymore time entertaining Eddie’s dumbass schtick and get to finding you. 

“Woah dude, wait,” Eddie calls, “I was just joking, no need to get your panties in a twist.” 

“I need to find her,” only stopping to try and persuade his friends to help him re-find the potential love of his life, “are you gonna help me or not?”

They look between one another, well aware that the girl he had spoken to for twenty minutes probably wouldn’t appreciate a group of his friends tracing the ground to find her. 

“Steve,” Robin warns softly, “if she didn’t give you her name in there, I don’t think she’ll want you stalking her for it,” flashing him a pitying glance, one he received quite often. 

“That’s not- Jesus Rob, I’m not a stalker,” running out of motivation to convince his friends, “are you coming or not?”

Nancy stands with her arms firmly across her chest, “I am not going in anymore of those things.”

He looks to Eddie for a little backup, surely he’d understand, right? 

Eddie just shrugs, looking around at the displeased group, “sorry man.. you’re on your own.” 

He scoffs, all night he’d traipsed around after these fuckers and yet, the second he finds anyone with even a tiny bit of interest in him, they can’t do the same for him. 

“Fine. I’ll meet you back at the car,” spinning back around to continue his quest, they could all kick rocks for all he cared. 

Fuck ‘em.  

The doe-eyed couples and high-schoolers in dollar store makeup crowd the street, making it damn near impossible to spot anyone, let alone a girl he’d only seen in dim lighting. He couldn’t forget you though, not ever. 

As if by fate, he spots your powder pink jacket, pacing up the cobblestone path, your brows screwed together and a saddened expression on your face. 

Steve speeds up, pushing past the bustling crowds before you slip out of his eyesight again. He couldn’t let you leave without at least trying. Maybe you had a boyfriend or maybe you wouldn’t even be interested at all but if destiny had brought you two together in that house, he had to at least try and honour it. 

You look up from the floor, stopping before you crash straight into Steve’s chest, “oh my God,” a smile creeping onto your lips, “you! I was trying to find you, I mean.. to thank you, obviously,” clearing your throat, turning all bashful and coy. 

Enchanted by the curve of your lips, he stumbles on his words, forgetting the very reason he’s stalked the entirety of the park,, “I was hoping I’d bump into you too,” turning into a frazzled mess under the weight of your gaze, “I didn’t get your name, or.. or your number,” expelling the air from his chest, praying that your frantic searching had meant something too. 

“My number?” searching his face, letting your smile take over the rest of your features, “my number! Yeah.. yes, of course,” a breath of relief escaping your lips, “do you have a pen?”

No. 

He didn’t have a pen. Who carries a pen anymore? 

Nancy Wheeler, that’s who. Suddenly regretting his harsh words for her over preparation would really help right now. 

“I don’t.. fuck,” flustered and upset, he’d walked the length of this place only to fall at the very last hurdle. 

You put your finger to his face before bounding off to one of the trucks, muttering something to the guy behind the counter. Almost sprinting back over with the pen in your hand, a glorious grin that takes over your entire face. 

Yanking his hand, damn near giving him a burn with the ferocity of which you pull his sleeve up, “here okay?” 

Steve nods rather enthusiastically, he’d let you tattoo your number on his forehead if only it meant that he had it. 

You etch your number into his skin, fluttering your lashes when you’re done, “I have to go but please call me,” squeezing his arm for good measure, “it was so nice to meet you!” hollering as your friends wait impatiently.

“I will! I’ll call you!”

[saturnsorbits]

Bugs and Hisses

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Kidnapping, Drugging, Lacking Prep, Con-Non-Con, The Tiniest Amount of Blood, Word Count: 4.9k,

Summary: A Halloween date goes exactly to plan.

A/N: w/a surprise cast.

‘So…’ You run a finger down Sero’s chest, skating from leather jacket, to pressed shirt, to skin. There’s a covering of hair peeking from his collar that tickles as you stroke it, conjuring visions that make you want to know just how far the hair goes. ‘Do I get a second date?’ 

He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise that vibrates the back of his neck. His palms are already cradling your waist, his thumb skating across the fabric of your dress. With each passing second, his composure frays. Fuck. You’d accidentally flashed him your fucking underwear back in the restaurant and he’d been a perfect gentleman and not looked. Well, he’d not stared at least - just tugged at the edge of your skirts and helped you readjust. He cocks an eyebrow, pulls you in tight. ‘Who said the first one is over?’ 

‘Isn’t it?’ You bite back a smile, but it doesn’t work. 

‘My place is like a twenty minute walk -.’ 

Pressing your lips to his, you wink and leave him with the tingling of your apple-spiced lipgloss as you step away. ‘Say less. Just let me text my roommate, tell her not to wait up.’ 

The smile he gives you could light up a room. It’s crooked and too big for his face, but bleeds boyish charm as he rocks back on his feet like he’s just won the lottery. ‘Yeah, yeah. Of course.’ 

You hold up a finger trying to shake the nervous energy bubbling up inside of you. It’s always like this, no matter how many times you do it. You still get giddy. Slipping your hand into a pocket, you snatch out your phone and tap out a quick message. The usual stuff. And, then, you’re back with him. 

His hands are broad and firm, callosed against your palms. He’d told you he was a painter, both commercially and artistically. In fact, some of the canvas’ he’d shown you had been pretty good. Almost as good as the small block of flats he was currently painting ‘Moon Shimmer’ on behalf of an unusually picky client. Slowing his strides so as not to hurry you, he lifts your clasped hands and kisses the curve of your knuckles leaving the stickiness of your lipgloss in his wake. ‘S’not far.’ 

The streets are dark at this hour, with only the jaundiced light cast down from the lamps making your path visible. Still, you’re not scared. Bumping your shoulder against his, you dissolve into a mess of soft giggles when he knocks you back and smiles. ‘I love this time of year?’ 

‘Autumn or Halloween?’ 

You shrug and swing your hands. ‘Both. But, I mean Halloween.’ 

As you near the estate, the decorations begin to crop up. There’s a string of pumpkins nestled in the leaves of a hedge, their mouths glowing with fairy light. In the front garden of the flats is an inflatable ghoul, in the window of a house across the way a model of the grim reaper covered in cobwebs. It’s pretty, quaint in its own pseudo-scary way. 

‘Yeah?’ He cocks his head. ‘Didn’t have you down for someone into spooky stuff?’ 

You bat your eyes at him and bite your lip. ‘No? What did you have me down for then?’

It happens so fast. 

Too fast.

One minute you’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, flirting with the idea of letting him take you in the street and the next, you’re being held by the throat. Instantly, your hands are at your neck and clawing, desperately trying to free yourself. You kick out and thrash, suddenly aware that your feet are being lifted from the floor leaving you dangling. 

‘Stop thrashing, Sweetheart - Or i’ll do a lot worse to your little boyfriend over here.’ 

The man with his hand around your throat is huge. His chest is barrelled, his arms almost the size of your skull and neither seem strained by the entirety of your weight dangling from his grip. There’s a scar on his face, one that cuts cleanly through his right eye and ends just below his cheek bone. The eye itself has gone cloudy, a white marble nestled in the socket that seems to glow in the low light. Around his threats, his lips seem to shimmer.

You stop, muscles freezing. 

‘Fuck. You can have my wallet, my phone… Just, just fucking take it.’ Sero’s back is pressed to the wall. Despite his lean frame and gangling height, the other man towers over him - a head taller and then some. Although, it’s the blade pressed to his sternum that is doing the job of keeping him still. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he retrieves his valuables and offers them up, shaking as he does. 

The man laughs. He tosses his head, letting his hood slip backward; exposing a slither of hair. The root is black, an inch of midnight, but after that, fire-engine red sprouts like firelight. ‘I don’t want your shit.’ Smacking Sero’s hand, he sends the offerings to the floor. 

Sero yelps. ‘What do you want?..’ He glances at you, his eyes wide with panic. ‘Just, just don’t hurt us. Okay?’ 

‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ Turning his head, he lets his eyes roam over your body. He looks predatory, with a set of teeth that would put a shark to shame. He winks. ‘Just play with you a little.’ 

The grip around your throat is gone in an instant, abandoning you to collapse to the floor in a heap. You suck air into your lungs, greedily inhale until the blurriness fades from your vision. Scrambling back, you bloody your palms on the floor in an effort to escape, to distance yourself from the man in front of you. 

If he notices, he certainly doesn’t care. Setting one of his large hands loose in his pocket, he retrieves a thin piece of cloth. The handkerchief is red, soft to the touch and monogrammed - an embroidered gold ‘BR’ sitting neatly in one of its corners. It smells of rubbing alcohol and apples. 

‘No. No. Fuck… What the fuck do you want, mate? I’ll do whatever you want.’ There’s a rawness to Sero’s voice now. A broken edge that grates on his throat. Panic swells in his chest. It constricts his lungs and makes his fingers twitchy, his stomach burning on his every vowel as more pleas are kicked up his throat. He glances to you, watches as you scramble backwards and hopes that at least you’ll make it away. 

Flashing his teeth, the man lifts the cloth, pressing it over Sero’s mouth. ‘I told you. I just want to play.’ 

When Sero finally wakes he’s cold. His whole body is curled, his jacket and jeans stripped, leaving large breadths of skin exposed to the bite of the concrete floor. The roof of his mouth is dry, his tongue shriveled, forcing his throat to convulse and spasm. Placing a palm on the floor, he lifts his head. 

The room is dark, unlit apart from a singular light bulb that hangs by its wire from the ceiling. Sero squints. The light puddles at the far end of the room, bathing a fully made bed in clear white. It looks out of place, odd in its decadence considering its surroundings, but it’s there nonetheless and atop it, splayed on its sheets is you. 

Sero’s up. His limbs are numb and heavy, fighting him with every step as he drags himself across the room, but he does it. Collapsing at your bedside, he claws his way to his knees and almost chokes when he notices the state you’re in. 

Thick cuffs wrap your wrists and hold your arms above your head, the chains that connect them securing you to the metal grill of the headboard. Your body is bare, exposed and draped with only the thinnest of shifts to cover your modesty.

‘Oh, no… Hey. Hey. Wake up, c’mon. Wake up.’ He reaches for you, his fingers gracing the curve of your cheek and the plush of your lower lip. Your breath tickles his fingers, makes him sigh with relief. 

Groaning, your eyes flicker open. You swallow and try to sit up. ‘Sero?’ 

The chains keep you down. 

‘What the fuck?’ Yanking on your cuffs, you try to rise again. 

‘Not getting out of those, Sweetheart.’ A smokey laugh trickles from the far end of the room through glistening lips. Leant back in a chair far too small for his frame is the man. He’s shirtless now, wearing nothing, but a pair of black military pants and matching boots that look as though they’ve seen better days. On his knee rests a gun. His arm is relaxed, fingers parallel to the trigger as the butt digs into the flesh of his leg.

 He looks… comfortable.

Sero’s heart stops. He’d awoken at the man’s feet, defenseless, before scampering off to you. He turns his mind away from the thoughts of what could have happened had he not chosen to move. ‘Where are we?’ 

The hair on the back of your neck stands to attention and salutes your demise, the chill slinking down your back to make a xylophone of your spine. You’re shivering, your lack of dress making self-consciousness and self-preservation war in your chest. A scream freezes to your lungs. ‘What are you going to do with us?’ 

‘Me?’ The man relaxes further, the slope of his broad shoulders an upturned bracket balanced on his collarbones. ‘I’m not gonna do anything…’ He lifts the gun, gesturing between the two of you. ‘You on the other hand -.’ 

Sero stands, willing his knees not to shake. ‘I’m not hurting her.’ 

‘Not even a little?’ The man pouts. ‘What if she likes it? I bet she likes it’ 

‘What the fuck are you? Some kind of fucking -.’ 

‘Pervert?’ He spreads his legs, showing off the thick bulge stretching the tension of his zip. It’s massive, the outline evident as his cock sits across his left thigh lazily, leaning into the crease of his pelvis. ‘Something like that.’ 

A snarl twists Sero’s mouth. He’s been in his fair share of fights, come out of them alright too. He swallows, but there’s no way he’s coming out of this one on top. For fucks sake his waist is the same size as one of this guy’s biceps. His heart hammers in his chest, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he runs a million and one outcomes through his mind. 

‘Don’t even think about it, baby boy.’ The man chuckles. ‘Think you’re quicker than a bullet?’ 

A groan ricochettes around the room, echoing off metal walls. 

You still. Squinting beyond your pool of light, you let your eyes adjust to the din. There, in the darkness are cages. Human sized cells bracket the room, the thick metal bars hiding whatever lingers inside. 

The moan comes again. 

‘Oi.’ Kicking at the bars of the nearest cage, the man silences the occupant. ‘Patience. It’s a virtue, y’know.’ 

Sero steps back. He’s out of his depth. The blood in his veins is cold, his skin frostbitten and pale. In the back of his mind, he writes to his mother - apologizes for not coming home more often, for not teaching his little sister to drive like he promised. He makes his peace, condemns himself to whatever might happen next. ‘What the fuck…’ 

‘We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.’ The man laughs at his own joke, pecs bouncing as he settles himself again. ‘You were going to fuck her anyway.’

‘Please.’ 

Sero’s head snaps to you. You sound terrified, broken… Expectant.

‘Just… Just do it.’ The skin around your wrists is raw and bleeding, but still the cuff’s won’t give. There’s no escape. Your stomach turns, bile crawling up your throat as a tsunami of tears threatens to spill over the basin of your eyelid. ‘Please, just - just give him what he wants. I -’ A tear slips your lid, rolling over the curve of your cheek. ‘I just want to go home.’ 

Puffing up his chest, Sero lays a hand on your arm and soothes you with a swipe of his thumb. There’s a heat under his skin, one that makes something disgusting roll in his stomach. He bites the edge of his tongue. Is he really considering this?  ‘And you’ll let us go if we…’ 

‘Yeah, with not a little hair harmed on your heads.’ 

‘Okay. Fuck. Right. Okay.’ There’s a shake in Sero’s hands when he finally clambers on the bed. It wobbles the mattress, making his progress tricky as he perches above you. Splayed out underneath him, you look beautiful - a Princess in chains, all ready for the taking. His stomach clenches. 

A chuckle. ‘If you need a name to scream, mine’s Riot.’ 

Sero’s stomach flips. 

‘Do you need me to -.’ 

Your voice distracts him, pulling him back immediately. He inhales, smells apples on your skin and lets his body relax. 

You glance between his legs and let your words die on your tongue. You’d been about to offer your mouth, or maybe your tits - something to assist him, but as you watch his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers you realise your service isn’t needed. 

He shakes his head, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. A tendril of shame wraps itself around the back of his neck and dives, poisoning his organs as it squirms its way to his guts. There it nestles, promising to rear its head again. He coughs, humming through his hesitance. 

‘What?’ Riot laughs, the noise bursting out of his chest as he seems to spread his legs wider. In his hand, the gun jumps. ‘You waiting for lube or something, pretty boy? Because if you need help getting her wet you’re gonna have to get it from the tap.’ 

Craning your head, you squeak when you see it. There’s a wet patch on the front of the man’s pants, the material darkened where the head of his cock bulges. It’s obscene… And so is your body's response. Your cunt pulses, drooling as you feel arousal drip down the inside of your thigh. It makes something roll in your stomach, something deep and twisted and sickly sweet. 

Shaking his head, Sero tries to rattle his brain into shape. His thoughts race, colliding into one another as he attempts to make sense of his imprisonment, but nothing sticks. His chest hollows. ‘I’m gonna… Gonna put it in now, okay?’ 

You nod and lift your hips, watching as Sero takes himself out of his boxers. He gives himself a long, tight stroke, twisting his wrist as he reaches the head and squeezing a droplet of pearlecent pre-cum from its tip. 

His cock is long, peaking an inch past his fist as he glides his hand back towards his base, and slim. A nest of black pubic hair nestles at its base, a series of gently purpled veins snaking from their hiding place to skirt up the underside of his shaft. The head is plump, a brown rose, slick and glistening from his own excitement. He’s pretty, but the thing that draws your eye the most is the trio of bar-bell piercings decorating the underside. Looking at them makes your mouth wet, your tongue an upturned umbrella as you swallow. 

A hand stretches across the turn of your thigh, splaying over the joint as his thumb comes up to swipe at your folds. Holding you open, he feels his lungs stutter as he watches your clit twitch. It’s sickening how he feels his stomach clench, how his cock kicks in his hand and leaks through his fingers. He continues to work himself as he explores. His fingers brush over your entrance, almost dipping in, but never quite breaching you. 

‘C’mon, Pretty boy…’ From the corner Riot sings, his voice silky smooth until it’s not. Boiling in the back of his throat, his words turn to grit as a growl slips through his lips. ‘We haven’t got all night.’ He bends back his wrist, cocking the gun. 

Sero swallows. His Adams Apple bobs in his throat and catches, sticking there as he tries to calm his nerves. He feels frayed, wired as he shifts forwards on his knees and settles down on his haunches. Jutting out his hips, he offers you a smile that is not quite laced with enough guilt before he’s forcing the blunt head of his cock into you.

One minute, you’re empty, your cunt fluttering around nothing, and then, you’re squirming and struggling to take him. The metal of his piercing rubs at your insides, itching at you, digging in and making you want to lift your hips. The lack of prep is immediately apparent. You’re tight, too tight, as he feeds you another inch. Even with his arousal mixing with yours and dripping back down his cock, it hurts. Your skin burns, heart hammering in your chest as you lift your wrists and grip onto the metal chains of your restraints. 

Still, there’s no denying it. 

‘Fuck.’ Sero feeds you another inch and squeezes shut his eyes. It’s too much. The feel of you, warm and wet, is enough to make him falter. For a moment he forgets. He forgets about the man in the corner - his cock hard in his jeans. He forgets about the gun. He forgets about everything that isn’t you. His hips jerk, stomach muscles twitching excitedly as he struggles to rein himself in. The blood in his veins burns, threatening to set his whole being alight. 

‘How’s she feel?’ 

Sero answers. His throat cracks, his words coming out garbled as pleasure leaks over his tongue and fights for acknowledgement. ‘Feels… Fuck, she feels so good. So, fucking wet.’ 

‘Wet, huh?’ A chuckle rocks through the room. ‘How else?’ 

‘She’s…’ Sero moans as he feeds you the last inch of him. Once bottomed out, he relaxes, his rib cage filling once more as he tries to haul in a full breath and fails. ‘Tight.’

‘Yeah? How tight?’ 

‘So fucking tight. So fucking -.’ Dipping his head, Sero locks eyes with you, mouthing a silent ‘You okay?’ as he struggles to contain himself. 

You nod with your eyes half-shut. Each shallow thrust has you feeling him in your lungs. He rocks forward slowly, pressing himself firmly inside of you before withdrawing - only to repeat the gesture again. It takes your breath and makes you wriggle, hips pulling back to stop the fullness as he seems to fill you more and more. The roll of his piercing has you lost, a sea of ecstasy just waiting for you to drown in it. ‘I -.’ You try to speak, but the words don’t come. Instead they transform, leaving you in the form of a pretty moan that makes both men groan back an answer. 

From around Sero’s lithe frame you catch glimpses of Riot. He’s relaxed, his broad shoulders sloping as he lifts a hand to grip the plush side of his chest. A moan shakes his throat as a thumb brushes across his nipple, his eyes flickering from Sero’s back to your face as you roll your head back and moan. 

It should scare you. He should scare you. But he doesn’t.

A broad palm splays across his chest, slinking down the plain of his stomach until it reaches his pants. Tilting his hips, he yanks back the buckle of his belt and cracks the leather. The top button of his pants follows, popped open with a thumb as he dips in and hisses. His cock is hot and hard in his grip, kicking as soon as it meets the rough skin of his palm. Squeezing, he lets a groan vibrate through his chest. The thrum of adrenaline tickles his veins turning him into a live wire, one that’s likely to become deadly. 

Sero continues to abuse your cunt. His thrusts have become sloppy and quick although each shock of his hips still has his cock nailing your g-spot like clockwork. The ache in your stomach has dulled, used to his assault, allowing pleasure to bloom and spread. Wrapping its tendrils around you, you’re dragged closer and closer to an orgasm that is sure to ruin you.

‘You gonna cum on his cock?’ Riot snickers. Removing himself from his underwear, he lets his cock bob against his stomach before taking hold of it again. He’s huge, far larger than Sero, with an upward tilt that makes your mouth water. It bobs there, struggling under its own weight, even with his hand for stability, and pulses when he strokes it with his thumb, spreading pre-cum down his shaft. 

You open your mouth to answer, worried about the repercussions silence would bring and choke on a scream. 

A weight falls over you. Sero’s arms bracket your shoulders, his spine concave as he loses himself to the feel of your velvet walls. Fear and arousal pool in his gut, creating a concoction deadly enough to make him fall. He’s wired, his entire being focused on pleasing as he ruts desperately into you. 

The head of his cock bullies the roof of your cunt, forcing you to feel each pearled metal ball impaled on his shaft. They roll against your walls, making you see static on the insides of your eyelids. Your arms stretch, the muscles in your biceps straining as you thrash against your bonds. The cold bite of the handcuffs marks your skin, couples each of your movements with a starburst of pain that tickles your nerves in a way you’re not sure you hate. It makes you light headed. Around you, the air almost burns - it strokes your skin, licking at the beads of sweat that collect against your curves. 

‘I -.’ Sero gasps. The light disorients him as his eyes snap open. So lost in you as he was, the shock of seeing you again almost makes him dizzy. 

Below him you gasp. With your eyes locked on his, you’re almost able to forget the mess unfolding around you. Arching your back, you press up into him just as he drives down his hips. Your bodies meet, a harsh coming together that almost has your limbs turning to jelly, but you hold on - if only to feel the rush of him again. 

‘I’m gonna.’ Stuttering, Sero’s arms band. 

‘Inside.’ 

Riot’s voice echoes. Closer. Harsher. 

You blink. Riot looms over Sero’s back, his cock is still hard, leaking onto the black of his pants and now, it presses to the fat of Sero’s thigh. A broad palm splays across the small of his back, pressing him forward, forcing his hips flush against yours as he leans in close and nips at his ear growling a singular word: ‘Inside.’ 

Sero spills at the command. You feel it, a rush of warmth before you even have time to protest. Each pulse of his cock brings another thought to the surface leaving no room for complaint. Forced to stay there, you get every drop - feel him fill you until you until his cum begins to leak back out and down his shaft, dripping onto the bed beneath you. 

Sero groans, his body shaking as he attempts to come down from his high as reality hits him like a train. ‘I - Fuck, fuck… I’m sorry. I -.’ 

Riot rolls his eyes. Letting his hand slip up Sero’s back, appreciating the contours of his muscles, he wraps a broad palm around his neck and curls his hand into a fist. He tuts. ‘Well you were a fucking disappointment.’ Using his grip, he launches Sero from the bed and abandons him as he crumbles against the wall. 

You scream. Lurching from the bed, you try and fail to rip the handcuffs from your wrists. The metal burns, cuts deep and dampens your struggle leaving you panting and vulnerable on the bed. 

Riot closer, his cock bent under its own weight and weeping against his thigh as he lifts it to keel on the bed. 

Against the wall, Sero feels his head spin. There’s pain radiating down his spine and spanning his shoulders, making each of his nerves scream as he tries to scramble to his feet. He can see you, chained and helpless, the insides of your thighs still shining with his spend as you lift a leg to kick Riot in the shoulder. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t even slow him, instead, he bares down on top of you to close the gap. Scrambling for purchase on the floor, he fights through the rising bile that threatens to steal his vision and tries to stand. He has to. He needs to get up. He needs to protect you. Needs to…

‘Bakugo.’ The man’s voice is surprisingly sweet when he turns his head and talks to the air, but the smile he offers is anything but. 

Arms emerge from the darkness behind Sero and wrap around his shoulders. The grip is steel, the fingers digging into his flesh tight enough to leave reddened indentations on his skin. He struggles, but it’s useless. He’s stuck fast and tight. Twisting, he turns to sight his captor. 

Bakugo’s eyes are dull. His ruby iris’ are shadowed and hollow, the echo of the bags hanging under them evident in his gaze. Sallow skin stretches across his cheeks, purple and red in all of the wrong places. The skin of his arms is much the same, although the muscle there betrays any thought of malnourishment. His biceps are thick, his hands strong as they pull, holding Sero to the bars of his cage. 

He’s drugged, or something, he has to be. 

His lips are shining. 

He can smell it. Spiced apple. 

Sero struggles. 

Bakugo holds on tighter, pressing both himself and Sero closer together. 

‘What the fuck - What the fuck.’ Sero glances down, feeling the press of something hard and wet at the small of his back. He hadn’t noticed, of course he hadn’t fucking noticed. Bakugo is naked, his cock hard and dripping behind his bars. He tries to pull away, but he should know better by now. There is no escape. With wide eyes, he looks back to you - panic rising in his throat as he swallows the pride screaming at him to save you. 

Riot pauses his assault on you, thick arms holding him up as he hovers above you - a silent threat. He cocks his head, noticing Sero’s blown eyes and slack jaw. ‘Oh, there’s more where he came from.’ Clicking his fingers, he summons movement in the room. 

From the bars of the cages, more arms appear. Another three men step forward with hollow eyes and hard cocks. 

One wears a sleepy grin, his purple hair tousled and twisting from his scalp. Another has coloured hair, red and white, and the body of an athlete as he leans against the bars and stretches out. The third is blonde. Smaller than the other two, he kneels his cheeks pressed to the bars, eyes drawn to Sero’s, now flaccid, cock. 

Behind them, more move. A woman with bubblegum pink hair wraps herself around one of the men, her nipples pebbled. A second appears behind Sero, the smell of her cunt palpable in the room as she smears her wetness across Bakugo’s shoulder. 

All of them have shining stained lips. 

All of them smell faintly of apples. 

‘What the fuck is this?’ Sero yells. His throat is raw, his muscles screaming. ‘What the fuck - How many, are you drugging them?’ 

Riot laughs. He has no intention of answering. Instead, he licks his lips and tastes fruit. ‘They’re all gonna have their way with you…’ 

There’s that smile again, the one that makes Sero feel like he’s being held under a guillotine. 

‘You can have Bakugo last, he’s not the…’ Tongue at his teeth, he thinks. ‘Gentlest. Best you’re nice and pliant before he has you.’ 

Sero’s mouth runs dry. He can feel them looking at him, feel their eyes burning into him, dissecting him like meat. Behind him, he feels Bakugo rut into his back, catching the head of his cock against the cleft of his ass. Then, a sticky kiss is pressed to his shoulder. A gift from the girl. 

He swallows. Hauls in a breath. Condemns himself. 

‘Don’t - don’t hurt her. Do whatever you want to me, but don’t… Don’t hurt her.’ 

‘Awe!’ You twist, roll on your side and cock your head. ‘You’re so sweet’ There’s a pout pulling at your lip, a break in your wonderfully terrified persona. ‘But you don’t have to worry about me.’ 

Riot leans over you and wraps a large hand around your jaw. Holding tight, he yanks you into a beautifully bruising kiss that leaves your lip bloody when he pulls away. 

You smile, and this time - it’s full of teeth. You lock eyes with Sero, just in time to see the last of the hope drain from them. ‘He was right, you know. I do like it when it hurts, just a little bit.’ You giggle. 

Letting the noise ricochet around the room, you reach forward and swipe a small metal fob from Kirishima’s belt loop and press the button at the centre. The screech of metal fills the air, the smell of sickly rotten apple flooding the room as each of the cages opens. 

‘Please…’ Sero begs, watching as people slip into the room from the darkness hunger lingering in their dim eyes. Even Riot shifts, bewitched by your siren’s whim. ‘Please, I’ll… I’ll do anything.’ 

‘Yeah.’ You lick your lips, tasting apple-spice. ‘You’ll do anything for me.’

-> Masterlist

[dinlukeweek]

👻💜DinLuke Halloween Week 2024 Prompts💜👻

Greetings, fellow spooky enthusiasts!

We are proud to present our fellow DinLuke ghouls, gremlins, goblins, and Grogus with the finalized prompt list!

Winners:

Magical Creatures

Buzzfeed Unsolved/Ghost Files AU

Candy

Strange Noises

Witchcraft

Apple Picking

Halloween Party

And since we received so many, here are some extra bits of inspiration, too!

Honorable Mentions:

Cottage in the Woods

Costumes

Spirit Halloween AU

If you plan on posting in AO3, consider tagging your works as #Dinluke Week 2024 so we can include it in our collections. For Tumblr, tag your posts as #Dinluke Halloween Week 2024 and/or #Dinluke Week 2024.

We look forward to seeing what everyone comes up with! Posting starts on October 20th and runs through the 27th, but as always we happily accept late entries 🦇🦇🦇

@swfandomevents

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Ghostober - Day 13 [Swiss]

“For some reason, I’m attracted to you.” - 3k

CW: Stalking, bit of dub/con, Swiss-type antics, dark romance, y/n used, Swiss x reader

⊹ Ghostober Masterlist ⊹

You hadn’t really noticed the little changes in your day-to-day tasks until your stuff started going missing. It was funny and harmless at the beginning, having little things reappear where you definitely didn’t leave them. It was almost like a game of hide and seek. It probably would’ve caused you more grief if they hadn’t reappeared, but whatever went missing always popped up at some point within the hour.

It was simple things at first, such as a pen that was on the desk in your room. You had been using it to fill out some Ministry paperwork, only to notice it suspiciously relocated to your bed after you had returned from the bathroom. Or the time your organized sheets of paperwork were suddenly now in some unknown order, sitting on top of the filing cabinet rather than inside it. 

How on Earth did you not hear someone opening the drawer?

As the shenanigans and pranks went on, it started to become a little more spooky. It was the way you started to feel like you were being watched as you walked around the Abbey. In your room, in your office, it didn’t matter. You couldn’t escape the feeling that someone was actually there and it wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks. You didn’t think the hairs on your neck had caught a break for an entire week. 

Sure the Abbey was known for its plethora of strange sounds and inhabitants. There was always some kind of ritual happening now and again. And the ghouls that called the Ministry home weren’t shy of expressing their more predatory side from time to time, which came with some very interesting noises. 

Throughout any given day, many of the newer Siblings were a bit frightened by the peculiar creaks, snarls, and crackling purrs that echoed through the halls. Before long they realized it was actually quite normal for a place such as this. The sounds originating from the chasms below were only indicating where the demons prowled and played, nothing to be afraid of as long as you didn’t venture down there.

Things had eventually escalated from your belongings showing up in odd places, to little gifts being left in your office. Most of the time finding them after you had stepped out. Whoever your stalker was, they were getting bolder. Yet you couldn’t help but kind of enjoy it? 

You found the whole thing to be rather endearing. Whoever it was, clearly liked you enough to leave wholesome little trinkets. Even you would have to admit that it was nice to be wanted. 

At this point, you had started to try and solve the mystery of who it could be. You honestly thought it was your new work partner, given that most of the time you had been finding things showing up at your desk or office.

You had discussed the strange occurrences with them that had been happening throughout the week. They had access to your desk, they knew when you had breaks and when you had stepped away from your office. And it was very likely they heard your hangry mumbles for specific snacks on more than one occasion.

It was the most logical and reasonable conclusion.

Whoever the mystery person was, they could absolutely keep leaving you chocolates and Hershey’s kisses every morning. Sometimes they even switch it up with a variety of different sweets. Somehow they had always known what you were craving. It was a bit odd, seeing as you had only mumbled things like that to yourself moments before. But since you were pretty sure it was your coworker who sat across from you, you figured you were probably just overthinking it.

It wasn’t until today when things started getting a bit more scary. You were having an off day to start with, your brain on high alert. Waiting for someone to pop around the corner at any second, and you didn’t know why.

You had almost finished highlighting these new papers for your boss when your highlighter ran out. Unfortunately you had your favourites, and they were stored in the stationary cupboard so no one stole them. With a huff, you got up to go get a new one. 

However when you came back, you had found that your secret admirer already placed new highlighters on your desk. 

In a smiley face. 

It was an innocent enough gesture, but given how uneasy you’ve been all day, your brain started to race.

The bright orange smiley face almost felt sentient the way it was grinning up at you. Like whoever had left it was looking through its eyes at this very moment and staring at you. The more you stared, the more you were convinced that it was staring right back. It must’ve been a sight to see; you standing there, frozen in fear, eyes locked on some innocent highlighters sitting on your desk. But in your gut, you knew something was wrong.

Your brain started to believe the impossible. Daring you to see if the longer you looked, the more likely it was that you were going to make it come to life. Maybe even making it morph into a frown. At this moment, you were sure whoever was so infatuated with you was living and breathing inside of it. Hiding in plain sight, right under your nose.

Your stomach tensed and twisted as you battled with your growing fear. You never once dared to look away for fear of finding something even worse standing behind you. You had seen the movies, this was clearly the distraction. The monster was waiting for you to turn around so it could jump out. 

You were struggling to breathe as your heart began to race. Your breaths came in heavy pants as you heard the hardwood floor creek eerily, like someone (or something) was stalking towards you from behind. Against your better judgement, as soon as you heard the high pitched creak, your head quickly turned to the sound.

“AH!”

You just about jumped out of your skin, immediately dropping the highlighter and doubling over, clutching your chest. “NAOMI, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Woah, Y/N. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to know what you wanted for lunch.” Naomi looked on with concern. “You okay? You seem a little on edge.”

On edge was an understatement, willing your heart to come back down from the fright.

“I’m fine,” you whispered as you caught your breath. “I’m going to skip lunch today I think? I’m… not feeling well.”

The Sister didn’t look convinced in the slightest, but gave you the benefit of the doubt and just nodded before walking back to her office. As soon as she was out of earshot, you sank to your knees and tried to take a few deep inhales. 

“For fucks sake. Pull yourself together.”

When you got back to your room after the long workday was over, all you could think about was having a very long, and very hot bath. Desperately needing to relax after the scare you had this afternoon. You were perfectly safe within the Ministry, and there were too many guys, ghouls and gals around that if you did need help, someone was always there. Your mind was just imagining things. 

There’s no way someone could be stalking you without someone noticing… right?

There had to be some logical explanation to all this, beyond just your brain playing games with your sanity. Maybe this was all happening because you watched a scary movie recently that you didn’t remember? Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the new decor for Halloween around the Abbey that had triggered it?

Lost in the possibilities of ‘what if’, you walked through the door of your room and immediately dropped your bag on the floor. Quickly face planting onto your soft bed with a loud groan, hoping it would expel some of the intrusive, unwanted thoughts and tension. However, instead of the plush pillow your face was expecting, you had fallen right onto a little slip of paper. The immediate roughness of the folded page meeting the soft skin of your cheek.

“What the–”

You rolled onto your back, holding the paper with two hands above your face as your fingers worked to open it. Before long, your eyes started to read…

‘I knew you would miss the flowers.’

“Huh?” Your brows immediately pinched together as you maneuvered yourself to sit up. The only thought in your head at the moment was that you were too tired for this. It had been a long day, you just wanted to finally wind down. But, unable to ignore your curiosity, you looked up from the paper to search around the room. 

It took you a minute in your current state to notice that there had, in fact, been a bouquet of black roses sitting in a vase on your dresser. You must've walked right by them when you got home, only concerned with how nice your bed was going to feel. 

“But how…?” You looked back at the note, expecting to find the answers and continued reading.

‘I’m sorry I caused you such a fright.’ Oh, this is starting to make more sense now. They’re probably from Naomi, that was nice of her. ‘I drew a bath for you too, it’s waiting…’

A bath? How could she have known about… and wait a minute. How did she even get into my room? When did she have time to…?

You didn’t bother checking to see if your tub was actually full before promptly running out of your room, heading straight to the only person you could think of that might be able to understand what was happening. 

Someone had been in your room. Your private, definitely locked room. Maybe they were still in there? Who knows! But one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to give them the satisfaction of watching you die in it. Not today.

You managed to keep your head straight enough in your panicked state to remember to bring the note with you, shoving in the side pocket of your habit as you made a beeline straight for Secondo’s office.

Once you got there, you noticed that the older Papa was in serious conversation with Copia. Not a normal sight by any means, the two hardly spoke.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting, I can come back-”

“Nonsense, the Cardinal was just leaving.” Secondo abruptly spoke, a look of relief on his face. Your intrusion was a welcome reason to end whatever prior conversation he was having.

Copia huffed and walked off in dramatic fashion before Secondo gestured for you to sit on the plush leather couch in the middle of his office.

“Thank you for appearing when you did. Copia was getting on my last nerve.”

You looked at the former Papa with concern, but couldn’t hide your knee bouncing a million miles an hour, your frights still not soothed even in his presence.

“Papa, I don’t feel safe in my room. Things have been going missing and random notes have been appearing.” You said quietly, looking at him with an unmistakable look of fear.

Secondo tilted his head and shifted to face towards you, your knees almost touching as he took your shaking hands in his large ones.

“This is highly unusual behaviour, no?” He furrowed his brow as he considered what the cause may have been. His touch was slowly calming you as his thumbs rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hands. It was a solid few minutes before his face lit up.

“I believe I know what may be happening. If I am correct, this would explain Copia’s issue as well.”

It was your turn to look at him in confusion, a look of concern briefly washing over you as you waited for Secondo to explain.

“One of Copia’s ghouls has gone missing. That is what he wished to talk to me about.” He just tapped your hands with his palm and gave you a warm smile. “When did this all start?”

“About 2 weeks ago?”

“Ah,” Secondo nodded. “Yes, I do believe these are connected. See, his ghoul has been missing for about the same amount of time.”

“What does that mean, Papa?” You asked, your voice still unsure. “You think that Copia’s missing ghoul is the one terrorizing me?”

“It is a possibility, my dear. Though I can’t be certain.”

You took a breath before remembering you had the note. You slowly removed your now warm hands from Secondo’s as you pulled out the bits of paper. “They left this in my room today.”

Secondo carefully takes the pages and examines them with great interest, his fingers skimming over the ink. “This is definitely a ghoul’s writing, they have a particular vernacular and their lettering often looks much like chicken scratch.”

You looked over to re-examine the words, finding that what he was saying definitely applied to whoever wrote this.

“There are a few ghouls who have been dedicated enough to fix it, but most are borderline illegible. Especially the new summons.” Secondo never once took his eyes off the paper to look at you as he explained. “This one is particularly bad, which leads me to believe it’s one of Copia’s newest summons.”

You nodded and relaxed, but only slightly. Gone was the thought that one of the Clergy were trying to lure you into a false sense of security and kill you for something you didn’t even know you did - it wouldn’t be the first time they had gone to such drastic measures.

“So, what do I do?”

When you walked back into your room after your chat with Secondo, you had a newfound sense of confidence now you understood what was going on.

You strolled in and stood in the direct centre of the room, not looking anywhere in particular as you crossed your arms over your chest and let out a deliberate, audible sigh.

“I know it’s you, Swiss.” You raised a brow and tapped your foot, waiting for the ghoul to appear.

“No it’s not…” You heard someone say quietly from above you. 

Looking up, you managed to find the multi-ghoul laying much like the Cheshire cat on the support beams above you. Living in such a large, church-like building, your room had ridiculously tall ceilings. You were sure there was meant to be an attic above, or another floor, but the slanted roof made that impossible - or they just forgot to finish it. 

It was kind of dark up there, so all you could see was his claws in the dense plank of wood, his tail swaying ominously and the glint of the moonlight reflected in his eyes.

“Have you been up there this whole time?” You questioned in disbelief.

Swiss just rested his chin on his hand as he glanced down at you before breaking out into his signature grin, fangs and all.

“Maybe.”

You just rolled your eyes and walked over to your closet, grabbing a broom you used to clear the cobwebs up there and walked back over to… convince him to come down.

Once you lifted it up and started your “persuasion”, he found it oddly amusing. Swatting playfully at the broom head with his hands before you got lucky with a well timed bonk to his nose, earning you a hiss.

You brought the broom back down as he maneuvered and jumped down from the rafters, standing once he hit the ground and moving to tower over you with a predatory smile. As he began stepping forward, you matched each one of his steps backwards before he had you backed up against your dresser. You heard him let out a spirited growl once he realized he had you trapped.

“Why have you been scaring and tormenting me?”

He chuckled lowly, “I don’t know. For some reason, I’m attracted to you.”

Your breath hitched as you felt him lean down, his warm breath tickling your neck. “C-Copia’s been worried, he’s been looking everywhere for you.”

“I bet.” He whispered, his lips brushing your skin as he spoke. “I’ve been here the whole time. With you.”

You placed a hand on his chest, not really pushing him away but showing him you meant what you were about to say next. “You can’t stay in my rafters forever, Swiss. You have responsibilities and obligations, to the band and to the Cardinal.”

He pulled back, his eyes filled with anger and disappointment as they flickered orange, his fire element being called to the surface. “Then come with me. Live in the dens with me.”

You shook your head. “I can’t, it’s not allowed.”

“It is… if we were mated?” He said, his voice no louder than a hushed whisper as he rested his forehead on yours, his eyes shutting as he took a deep breath, relaxing in the comfort of your scent. The faint scent he got sitting out of sight in your open attic, or laying in your bed when you were at work was nothing compared to having you so close to him right now. It was driving him crazy. 

However, while he relaxed, your breath started to pick up, confused by your own conflicting emotions. 

“You’ve just stalked and scared the living daylights out of me for two weeks. Now you want me to… mate with you? Are you crazy? Do you hear how crazy that is?!”

He kept his head pressed against yours as he opened his now purple eyes to glance into yours. Putting on his best kicked puppy look, you could feel the faint touch of his quintessence trying to show you how strongly he felt about you. 

“What can I say, you like ‘em a little crazy.” He smirked and leant down to bring his soft lips down to yours. He could feel your initial shock, but smiled into it as you settled in and kissed him back.

You pulled away after what felt like forever, smiling as his tail rubbed up and down your spine tenderly. “I guess for some reason I’m attracted to you too.”

He flashed you a toothy grin and brought his bottom lip between his teeth. His growls echoed around your room, his fangs almost piercing his skin as he looked at you like a man starved.

“Hm… good girl.”

A/N: I shouldn't need to say this but my Swiss, and the unmasked ghoul, are two very separate people/things. They are not connected in any way and this is a work of fiction based on the ghoul. This was half proofread and hella fuckin' delayed it's November. Soz...

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Corn Maze

Joel Miller x Wife fem reader

Summary: Joel and his wife Y/N visit a haunted corn maze with friends. They get separated,it’s up to them to find their way out.

Joel Miller and his wife Y/N had always loved Halloween, and this year they decided to embrace the spooky spirit by visiting a haunted corn maze. The maze was notorious for its elaborate scares and intricate pathways, making it the perfect place for a thrilling adventure. They went with a group of friends, including Tommy, Maria, and a few others, all eager for a night of fun and fright.

The night was crisp and cool, with a full moon casting an eerie glow over the fields. The entrance to the maze was decorated with flickering jack-o'-lanterns and creepy scarecrows, setting the mood for what lay ahead. As they entered, the group laughed and joked, trying to mask their nervous excitement.

The maze quickly lived up to its reputation. Shadows darted between the cornstalks, and eerie noises echoed through the pathways. Joel kept a protective arm around Y/N, who clung to him with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

“Stay close,” Joel whispered in her ear, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, I’m not letting go,” Y/N replied with a nervous laugh.

About halfway through the maze, the group encountered a man in a grotesque costume wielding a fake chainsaw. With a loud roar, he lunged toward them, sending everyone scattering in different directions. Y/N’s hand slipped from Joel’s grasp in the chaos, and before he knew it, they were separated.

“Y/N!” Joel called out, his voice filled with urgency. He could hear the distant shouts of his friends but couldn’t see anyone through the thick corn.

“Joel!” Y/N’s voice echoed back, sounding distant and scared. She tried to retrace her steps but found herself disoriented in the maze's labyrinthine paths. Her heart pounded as she navigated the narrow corridors, calling out for Joel with every turn.

Joel moved quickly, his senses on high alert. He pushed through the tall cornstalks, ignoring the staged scares and creepy figures that popped up along

the way. All he cared about was finding Y/N. “Y/N, where are you?”

“I’m here! Joel, I’m here!” Her voice was closer now, and Joel quickened his pace, desperation giving him a sense of direction.

Y/N stumbled through the maze, trying to keep calm. She knew Joel would find her, but the eerie environment was getting to her. Every rustle in the corn made her jump, and she kept glancing over her shoulder, half-expecting the costumed figure to reappear.

“Why did I agree to this?” Y/N muttered under her breath, trying to navigate the maze’s twists and turns. Suddenly, a ghoul leaped out from the corn, emitting a blood-curdling scream. Y/N screamed and bolted, her heart racing. She managed to find a narrow path and ran, hoping it would lead her back to Joel.

Joel was having his own share of scares. As he pushed through the maze, a group of zombies emerged from the corn, groaning and reaching out for him. He jumped back, genuinely startled, and let out a yell before quickly composing himself. “Alright, you got me,” he muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel finally heard Y/N’s voice just around the next corner. He turned the corner and saw her standing there, looking relieved and anxious. “Y/N!”

“Joel!” She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He hugged her tightly, feeling a wave of relief wash over him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes.

“Yeah, just a bit shaken,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “I hate getting lost in these things.”

“Me too,” Joel agreed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Let’s get out of here.”

As they neared the exit, the maze had one final scare in store. A figure jumped out from behind the last corner, grabbing onto Y/N's arm with a ghastly scream. Instinctively, Y/N reacted, her fear transforming into a burst of adrenaline. She swung her free hand and punched the actor square in the face, sending him stumbling back.

The actor, stunned and holding his face, managed a weak, “Hey, it's just part of the scare!” But Y/N, breathing heavily, was already pulling Joel towards the exit.

Joel couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "That’s my woman," he said proudly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they finally exited the maze.

The rest of the group, who had been waiting at the exit, looked on in surprise. Tommy burst out laughing, “Y/N, remind me never to startle you again!”

Maria smirked, “Well, I guess you showed them not to mess with you!”

Y/N, still a bit shaken but now feeling more confident, managed a smile. “I guess I did.”

As they walked back to the parking lot, Joel kept a protective arm around Y/N, occasionally chuckling and shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Hey, they shouldn't grab people like that,” Y/N said, feeling a bit more relaxed now that they were out of the maze.

“You’re right,” Joel agreed, kissing her temple. “But still, that was impressive.”

They drove home with the group, sharing stories of the night’s scares and laughing at the unexpected turn of events. As they pulled into their driveway, Joel helped Y/N out of the car, and they walked hand in hand into their home.

Later that night, after they had gotten ready for bed, Y/N lay beside Joel, feeling the day's excitement still coursing through her. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt a deep sense of security and love, knowing Joel was there to protect her.

Hours later, in the dead of night, Y/N's sleep was abruptly shattered by a terrifying dream. She found herself back in the maze, the eerie rustling of the corn and the ghastly figure chasing her. The fear was palpable, and she could hear herself screaming, “Joel! Help!”

She bolted upright, gasping for breath, her heart racing. Joel was instantly awake, his arms around her in an instant. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re safe, Y/N. It was just a dream.”

Y/N clung to him, trembling. “It felt so real, Joel. I was back in the maze, and someone was chasing me.”

Joel held her tighter, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “It’s alright, love. You’re here with me, and no one’s going to hurt you.”

As she calmed down, Y/N couldn’t shake the lingering fear. “It was just a dream... right?”

Joel kissed her forehead and smiled softly. “Just a dream. And I’ll always be here to make sure it stays that way.”

Y/N nodded, feeling the comfort of Joel’s presence. But as she lay back down, she couldn’t help but glance towards the window, half-expecting to see a figure lurking in the shadows. Joel pulled her close, his warmth enveloping her.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

With Joel's steady heartbeat under her ear and his protective arms around her, Y/N finally drifted back to sleep, her fears fading into the night. Yet, a small part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that the line between dream and reality had blurred, leaving her with an unsettling sense of lingering dread.

The next morning, Joel woke up to find Y/N already up, making breakfast in the kitchen. The smell of bacon and pancakes filled the air, and he smiled, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Morning, beautiful.”

She leaned back into him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “Morning. I thought I’d make us a nice breakfast to start the day.”

He kissed her cheek, the warmth of their home washing away the night’s fears. “Sounds perfect.”

As they sat down to eat, Joel couldn’t help but tease, “So, are we doing another haunted maze next year?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Fuck no”

Joel busted out laughing and shook his head.

[phoe-ix]

when you

Yeah I typed out all of charlie’s dialogue from the scene where he like threw it back into the wall? Remember that? I even counted and transcribed the funky bap noises he made. The laughs arent perfectly counted because I’m not insane, but if I do go back and count them I will update this.

Clip + entire transcription under cut

hehehehehe penis heheheheh ooooh scare em ghouls scare em good im so glad we installed this soft pliable cuttable wall instead of a real one hahahaha the structural integrety and general value of this home is looowww hahahaha and whats scarier than that? Hahahahaha. Ghouls get in there.  Heheheheheh. Ghoulio ghouliette yes make scarier sounds. Scary.  Waa. Bwe bwa bwa bwou bwa. Bwa bwa bwa bwaa. Nightmare nightmare nightmare. Youre in classroom. Pissing pants. Shitting pants. Youre baby. You got F. F. Youre in hell. Christian hell. Hahahaha. Ah. This is too good. Ghouls you have any good spooky scary ideas?. Yeah yeah let it out let it out okay you make wind sounds you make thunderstorm sounds.  Yes yes and then do yeah yeah and then here we’ll like spell some things in the wall. I. And then lets try and do we kill. This is really. This he made it look a lot easier than this when they did it in the movie. Wowie. Okay. Alright. Alright. Here we go the scariest thing of all. Throwing it back. Throwing it back into the wall yes ghoul yes ghoulio. Slay. Slay it all. Todays gonna be the day that im gonna throw it back to you. What song? Hehehe. Yeah. Yeah. Hehehehe. Boup. Boup boup. Boup boup. Im running out of ideas. Bap boup beep bap boop beep bap boop bep boo. Heh yeah.  Yeah. Boop beep bap boop beep bap. Oh you guys are getting a promotion after this. Alright. How long do people uh sl-sleep now? Like eight hours? Alright yeah you guys are good. I was i was bored anyway. Whatever. Heheheheh. Lets see how well he rests now. 😈😈😈

[moonlit-grove]

More details after the poll but let's see which vague event plot idea people are most interested in

EXTRA DETAILS

Cowboy Theme: that one camping, bring what you have on hand, event I'd been planning two years ago. Your character, be they a cowboy or not, would be attending an in-character event hosted by Sparrow Quickdraw. The only specification is that you bring what you normally carry around on an honor system. Sparrow's not gonna ask but he will find it weird if you claim to carry around a whole portable kitchen. I had originally planned to spin a few wheels or roll some dice for OH NO events happening like a sandstorm or animal attacks or smth.

Nightmare Court Theme 1: Courtiers are gathered for a fancy-shmancy gala. Set before HoT, the Duke of Torment was chosen by Faolain to host. Mingle with your fellow Courtiers, maybe try to form alliances between courts.

Nightmare Court Theme 2: A tournament to attempt to become the Grand Duke/Duchess. Set after HoT, some courtiers are battling for the rank. Others are just enjoying the show. Either way, probably going to contain RP PvP which will likely include wheels or dice.

Spooky Theme: Get your ghosts and ghouls and vampires and your etceteras, we've got some spooky hanging out to do. Talk about how you bit the dust or how you've been surviving as a vampire for however long you've been around. Monster hunters NOT invited.

Specifics about the events will be altered if they're hosted on EU; the cowboy event is specifically for NA since Sparrow only exists on NA and I do not have a cowboy on EU. Sad cowboy noises.

[starwriterulia]

Perversity and Loathing - Chapter 3

CONTAINS HEAVY SUBJECT MATERIAL THAT MAY TRIGGER READERS WITH ANXIETY, DEPRESSION AND PTSD. SOME CHAPTERS CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT.

WHILE THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN NSFW SCENES, IT DOES CONTAIN DISCUSSION OF MATURE CONTENT THAT IS UNSUITABLE FOR MINORS.

This is a reboot of Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon. (post)

Fandoms: DC Comics, Batfamily, Thalassic Space (OC)

Characters (In order of appearance): Bruce Wayne (Batman), Barbara Gordon (Batgirl), Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Faith Lawson (self-insert), Ghouls (Nero Spirits in the form of jumspcare people), Nerobzal (OC, Fallen Angel, big bad guy of Thalassic Space), Clark Kent (Superman)

Word Count: 3327

TW: Spooky content warning, and the things that the entity who appears in the kitchen says some pretty dark stuff regarding Faith. Please correct me if I missed anything!

A/N: Holy shit, I fucking cooked. I found a little continuity error in the last chapter, lol. I forgot about the notepad, pencil and pencilcase of pencil crayons that Batman fetched for Faith. He has now put them on the bed, and they just stay there. :p Also, part of Chapter 4 is already written, since I realised the important events of this chapter ended when Bruce when into the servery to finish talking over the phone to Clark in private lol. Chapter 4 will be cozy, but I tell my real life story to explain why the others feel like something is off, so, uh, proceed with caution!

Tag list in the replies of people who liked/reblogged any part of the previous version of this story, or the previous chapter(s). You’re not obliged to read or leave a comment. Thank you for reading! ^w^

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 (Coming soon...)

The kitchen was dark and the pantry door was silent. Although no one looked, it was obvious that the sunlight from the window had become moonlight. Batman had stepped forward from the door, and stood behind and slightly to the left of Faith, looking down at her. She looked directly in front of her, in the space betwen Nightwing's left arm and Batgirl's right arm. Nightwing and Batgirl looked at the wall.

A dog's heavy panting approached the window from the left. Upon the window, thump, splurch. Thump, splurch, thump, squick! "Bark, woof! Grrr... rarf! Rarf, arf, rarf! Snarl... snort." A soft thwick of tail hitting glass.

Batman counted: one. Two. Three. Four. A cluster of bare feet, pad, timp, pad-pad, and fingernails, scritch, scrrrr, scritch, came into the kitchen. Pad, pad.

"Scraawk!" Click, click of the tongue. Timp timp, timp, pad.

"Scrrr?"

"Scrawk!" Thud, thud! Near the island. Scrape, rrrrip! "SKYAW!"

"SCRAW!"

"ENOUGH!" Boomed a bass voice from the doorway. Faith's loins tickled, and she hated it.

Two. Three. Four. Critch, critch, critch. Critch, critch critch! Click, click of the tongue. Slurrrrp. Smack, smack of the lips. Two pairs of neon orange eyes gazing at each other slowly came into the view of the humans, the heads of the Ghouls illuminated by the window. They snapped and stared at Nightwing and Batgirl.

Do you remember the time the light of your past burned hot, and you were alone with the noise?

I remember that light, and its heat, my feet on the platform but my paralysed body flying at an impossible speed to the sun and starting to orbit to present Earth with a divine spectacle, how the screams rang in my ears. But I didn't stay there. I was embraced by a man who did his best, for his first dance under a different light, and both of us developed from our time together. I made the best friends and found both of the dearest loves that I will ever have. We dance in the light, golden day or silver night, in any weather, for the people who need us, and we dance for each other, sometimes. We dance for people like the woman you seem so eager to control, a woman who has struggled with control her whole life and seems to have found it, before you itched at her subconscious until you found a perfect monster to bring you to life. When I am the only light in a scene of dread and sorrow, I burn those like you, who have burned others and refuse to change their bulb or turn it off. Get out of my head.

Hiss. Snarl. Spit! Well, fine. Be that way.

Do you remember the time your heart was pulled at its roots, and you were alone to weep at its ruin?

I remember that love, and the pain, the pure chaos that shredded my shelter like the people I swore to protect with every once of strength in my body who I could only help using my intellect, the passive loss of worth I felt every day, how my love became the half of me that had been made useless and numb. But it did not last. I could still move my other half. I saved my life and the lives of others even like that. I am priviledged to be called "the best" or "my favourite" by many. In fact, I think I met someone who dyed their hair to be like me, today. I was not abandoned by those who care for me, and I never neglected myself when my roots were torn from beneath me. My love and roots were mended and made stronger, and now I save my tears for those who need it. Get out of my head!

Hiss. Snarl. Spit! Well, fine. Be that way.

Do you remember━?

"I always remember." Batman said. Faith gasped and turned her eyes and head to Batman. Their gaze lasted for a short second. A tall black figure, glowing neon red, with neon red eyes, briskly came from the doorway and stood in front of Faith, making Nightwing stumble.

A Ghoul swiftly extended its neck, crick, and followed Nightwing with a grossly opening jaw, but the hero planted himself as soon as he had been unstabilised. The Ghoul retreated and snapped its teeth at the other Ghoul, that snarled. The first Ghoul began a high pitch, "Scr━!"

The glowing figure whipped its left arm up, grabbing the head of the whining Ghoul and making it shut up. The glowing figure brought the Ghoul to its face, the figure's mouth suddenly opening down to the floor. The figure violently stuffed the Ghoul in its mouth, and swallowed it with a grotesque crunch and squelch.

"Go home." Said the figure. The remaining Ghoul, critch, critch, critch critch, thump! Timp timp, pad-pad, timp. "Here, boy." The window broke, and something with four legs, thump thump, thump, pant, pant, pant. Slurrrrp, pant, pant. "Spread the word."

The white paws of the dog sprang onto Faith's shoulders, its weight making her stagger, and its human smile and dark canine eyes stared into her eyes. The figure said, "You remember me, right, wife?" Faith parted her lips, a distinct suck-click sound made. The dog removed its paws, and sat, panting at the right foot of the figure.

"The dreams where I was human, dark haired, fair skinned, wearing clothes that you like, and I pierced the illusion's face in places that you like, too. I even made a blonde, fair skinned woman for you to have, dressed just like me. The dream where I showed you the inside of my loins, designed to breed you, and I fucked you there until you came with me, and you awoke. The dream where I was a black storm cloud, and you rubbed your sweet little cunt on my massive penis that dwarfed you. Your virgin juices dripped onto my member, and the one squirt of sperm I released was so colossal that you awoke. No more waking up with your dignity and secret. I am sorry your choice was taken from you, wife. But it is time to come home."

"'Where is home?', I hear the furious minds of these mortals shout. I will tell them. And they will hate you. But you don't have to be alone, after the truth is shared. You will come with me through Platonia to the Greatest Room, and in nine months, you will birth the Impossible Child. You will name him, and it will be the most perfect name. You are a creative woman, after all."

"Not a genius, no. If you were, you would have shown the Hallway your vagina to let me fuck you. Brazen. A vixen, unafraid of criticism from her peers, friends or family about her most devilish desires. But you do not call them devilish, wife, do you?"

"No. To you, they are freedom. I can give that to you. Forever. Eternal life, eternal freedom, an eternal outlet for your creative pursuits. Fully realised."

"All you have to do is take off your clothes, open the door one more time, and come home with me. Don't worry. I will close it behind you so that none of your friends will be harmed. Armaggedon will come. And we will have become so strong, you will have made me so powerful that no Author could stop us."

"Lucifer, his 200 loyalists, you and me, and the Child. Merge Two. Forever. Planets will change, the little star of this solar system, too, will change. A divine spectacle. The kind that only the love between Creator and Creation could bring. Except, we would be called, from then on, Husband and Wife of Sagittarius."

"What do you say, wife? Will you come home with me? Or must I rape you, and consummate our marriage here and now?"

Faith sighed heavily. A gruelling eight seconds passed. "Your home is not mine. Your love is not mine. Your child does not belong in my body, because I belong to me, and you belong to a fear that I did not make. It was planted in me, as it is in all people, regardless of gender, orientation, wealth or satisfaction as they live and die. My home is a magic train filled with people in costumes, singing cheerful songs in different languages to foster hope and bonds during the short daylight and long moonlight of Santa's Plain. My home is a carnival that celebrates each season, that employees people of all abilities, human or not, and living or dead, and together, under the glory my Puzzle Tower that offers its riddles and prizes to guests, they enjoy new memories in the center of the Realm of Tree Peoples."

"My home is Asgard, where my name was Ønske because I desire adventure and love both familial, platonic and romantic. My home is Pierian Spring on Mount Olympus, where I create stories, plays and songs with my teacher, Urania, and she shows me all of space, and all of its connections to how humans behave. There are other students studying under the other muses, and all of us are friends, and sometimes lovers, and we support each other's passions. And my home is Paradiso, even though Yahweh is not close to my heart due to how turbulent my crisis of faith was, during puberty, because Uriel is also my teacher, and he gave me the name Χαμένος (Chaménos), Lost, and copied all of my work so that Yahweh could enjoy them and share them with my family in Paradiso, in particular my adoptive dad and my birth mom. You belong in my subconscious, and you function perfectly there. I thought you liked the name I gave you, and that you would leave me alone? I'm confused, a little, about why you're so desperate to have me serve you with your definition of my freedom. Then again, you are my Shadow."

"I am not."

"Well, that's how I interpret you, and how I made you, in Thalassic Space. Let the Impossible Child sleep in his crib. Leave him in peace. Let another woman conceive him, if he must be born. And let it be in many, many years, as the most terrible surprise that God is dead, but Satan is alive, as it will be. But leave me out of it. I don't belong in that narrative."

"I am Backstage no more, Curtains cannot hide me. But I will return to the Wings, and I will take you with me, and both of us will Undress, our Actors will part as colleagues and friends, and maybe then, as we spend time with each other as mortals, I could come to love you. But until you Show Me Your Actor, you are only words on my document."

The figure and dog disappeared. The lights came on. The window was in tact and there was sunlight, and there were no markings on the walls, ceiling or floors. The humans sighed in relief. Faith's was the loudest. "Holy scene right out of a horror flick, is it really over?" Nightwing asked, making eye contact with Faith.

Faith sighed again. "Yes. Check the pantry." She looked over her shoulder at its door. "It should be fine, now." Batman turned and opened the door. They all saw that its interior was, indeed, normal. Batman closed the door. Faith turned her head back to Nightwing and Batgirl. "And the next time you see Ra's, he'll be really upset that he lost his new powers."

"Tch, and probably try to hurt you again!" Batgirl said, removing her mask and pocketing it.

"Yeeeeah." Faith said, blushing deeply. Barbara smiled. She stepped forward and pulled Faith in for a hug. Barbara patted Faith's back, and released Faith from her embrace.

"Do you not have magic, anymore?" Dick, having removed his mask too, asked. Faith's cheeks smiled tightly.

As Faith talked, her smile naturally faded. "Only what's included in my First Wish. Uh, it's what Urania and I were calling my 'most basic wish' because, technically, it wasn't my first, but━"

"Yes, she told us about Bella." Said Barbara. Faith nodded.

"And we figured that was how that all worked." Dick added.

"Ah, OK. Well, is everyone feeling OK? Besides nausea or headaches."

"Yep. No nausea or headaches, here."

"Yeah, same. I think we're all fine." Barbara replied. Batman hummed in agreement. Faith looked at him, and saw that he had removed his cowl. Faith batted her lashes, her blush and smile returning, and her top teeth showing.

"Hm. No offence, but I think you need to see a dentist."

"I did. This is what he did. It's silver."

"Yes, because white fillings are more expensive. It looks like you don't brush, though."

"Not often, no."

"Well, how about you and I sit in the dining room, Faith, and Barbara and Dick can make breakfast? You said you were hungry."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"OK." Bruce softly said, his cheeks lifting a little. He walked forward and gently touched Faith's back to cue her to walk while Barbara and Dick busied themselves, and they exited the kitchen and crossed the hallway, leaving both doors ajar. They went all the way to the far end of the table, and Bruce sat at the chair at its end, and Faith sat on his right side. "Are you feeling OK?"

"Yeah, I'm OK, thanks." Faith rested her left arm on the table, her right elbow on the surface and her chin and right cheek in her right hand. "Considering I just confronted the dark side of my subconsious, that turned out pretty well."

"I would dare say you did excellent, there, Faith."

Faith smiled, a bit of warmth in her face. "Thanks."

"If you don't mind, I do need to call a friend and ask him to open a closet or pantry door to make sure Platonia is gone."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Thank you." Bruce rose from the chair, reentered the hallway and closed the dining room door. He produced an earpiece from his gauntlet, donned it, and called "Babe". Rrrring. Rr━

"Hi, Bruce." Said Clark Kent.

"Hi, Clark. Can I get you to test something for me?"

"Sure."

"Knock on a closet or pantry door, depending on where you are, five times, and let me know if you hear two knocks back." Walking sounds on hardwood. Clark was at home. Five knocks. Three seconds passed.

"Nope! Is everything OK, Bruce?"

"Yes. That means everything is OK. I can tell you what happened, since you're at home." Bruce sighed. "We had a scare. Ra's stabbed and raped a young lady in her mid-twenties, Faith Lawson, about twenty minutes ago."

"Oh no."

"This is a rather long story. They met in a dream in her childhood home, and..."

"Sheesh! Poor Faith! I'm glad everyone is OK, now. She was very lucky to have her necklace successfully summon Urania to bring her back from death and give Faith the powers she wanted as a kid."

"She was, yes."

"I'll have a look for Ra's, though there would have been news about him if he'd used the power he stole, and there hasn't been any." Clark said. Bruce hummed, furrowing his brow. "I'll also ask Hal if there's a new galaxy with a magic O-type star."

"Thanks." Bruce said, entering the dining room. "Faith?"

She raised her head from her hands, both elbows having been on the table and her eyes staring at its surface. "Yeah?"

As Bruce walked over, he asked, "Do you know where Ra's may have went?"

"Sorry, question to answer a question, but: do you know what video game the Clicker I gave Barbara is from?"

"No, sorry."

"Alan Wake. I put Ra's in the world of Alan Wake to potentially be scared of its existential horror and atmosphere, but not harmed by it, since Ra's is really durable and good at fighting, and would have figured out the whole 'stay in the light' thing pretty quick. I put him there so he would be unable to use the magic of Sagittarius A*."

"Oh, so I was right. That is where your dark magic is from."

"Yeah! Oh, I guess I didn't tell you, but I told Dick and Barbara, that good magic is formally called━"

"Solar magic." Bruce said with Faith. "I thought it would be called that. So, dark magic is formally called singularity magic."

"Yes! Hence why it was a, uh, big concern that I take it away from him."

"No kidding. And how can Ra's come back?"

"Barbara still has the Clicker, right?"

"She still had it in her hand, after Platonia was closed, so yes."

"Well, you could take it, think of anywhere in Eth'Alth'Eban, and then he'll appear there."

"That's good enough for me. Thanks, Faith."

"You're, yawn, welcome."

"Sounds like you need a nap, after you put something in your stomach."

Faith resumed her chin-in-hands position. "That would be nice. It might not work, I've kinda been awake for too long, now."

"OK. I was just making a suggestion." Bruce said. Faith tiredly bobbed her head. "One more thing, sorry."

"Hm?"

"The entity who gave Dick your necklace and the entity who was just in the kitchen are not the same, right?"

"Yeah! The first guy was the Umbrella Man."

"Clark, the Umbrella Man was the angel that followed the Fallen Angel Nerobzal, along with eight humanoid demons who became pale people with neon orange eyes called Ghouls," Bruce looked at Faith, "And, Faith, two of them were in the kitchen and crawled onto the ceiling, right?"

"Mhm!"

"They all followed Nerobzal into, presumably, the first Door to Platonia."

"It was, yes."

"Thank you. It had appeared on Lucifer's pelvis just for Nerobzal to open and claim as Nerobzal's territory."

"Oh my!" Commented Clark.

"Yes." Faith replied. "And the other guy was Nerobzal."

"That was really him?"

"Mhm. The perverted spirit in my dreams that I named Nerobzal is the entity who man-i-fest-ed," Faith pacing slowed as she spelled out the syllables of the word, and she briefly bared her teeth. "Oh boy, that could have gone so much worse."

"You're telling me."

"I'm just glad there weren't more than eight people in the room! Then he would have eaten all of us, just for fun."

"Lovely. Thank you for telling me that now."

"Well, we were in peril, when it would have been appropriate to tell you, and there was only four of us."

"No, you had time, before we opened my pantry back up to Platonia and you told us plenty of exposition."

"Oh yeeeeah."

"Yeeeeah."

"Sorry, my exposition timing and, uh, cohesiveness is far from perfect."

"You know, that's OK. It's realistic."

Clark commented, "Mhm!"

"Superman agrees. You did pretty good, for doing all of that on the spot, when we needed to get things done." Bruce gave Faith a thumbs up. She returned it with both hands and a big grin. Bruce exhaled through his nose, smiling with his cheeks. "Thanks again, Faith."

"You're, yaaaawn, welcome, ya-awn. Hawn." Faith smacked her lips and tongue, blinking heavy eyelids.

"Wow, it sounds like she needs a nap." Clark said.

"Superman says you need a nap."

"Valid. Will probably actually do that, after I eat. Brain is tired."

"Yeah." Bruce hovered his right hand over the top of Faith's head. "Do you accept head scratches?"

"Mm, sort of. Be gentle, and return my hair to looking tidy when you're done."

"Sure." Bruce gently scratched Faith's head for two seconds, noting how thick and lovely it was, then thoughtfully stroked the disturbed strands. "I'll tell Barbara and Dick, in case they have the same idea."

"Thankiiiie."

"You're welcome." Bruce returned to the hallway, closing the door again, then went up the hallway into the servery, shutting its door.

A/N: Ha ha, I said my blog's tagline, ha ha, I'm totally mentally stable after having written that, you know what I'm talking about (seriously, I am OK).

I stayed up until 12:16am, it was the 17th and now it's the 18th. What a world. I luv mah littol brain, you know? You know, you know? Yiss? Okie. I sleep now. See you in the morning, aka the next paragraph.

Hi, it's almost 6pm on the 18th, and this chapter is done now, plus all the little revisions, hooray. That's all I really wanted to say. OK, see you in the next chapter, byeeee!

Proceed to Chapter 4 (Coming soon...)

[stormy-writer]

All Hallows Eve

Tags: platonic x reader, platonic fic, Henry Mills x reader, Henry Swan x reader, ouat, Once Upon A Time, x reader, fluff, fanfiction, fanfic, fanfiction fluff, fanfic fluff

Catergory: platonic, fluff, flufffffff, you'll need to brush your teeth after this, see your dentist, this is soooo sweetttt

Tw: mentions of religion, spirits, teeth rotting

Wc: 1.2k

It was Halloween.

Not your favorite time of year, especially being the babysitter for a certain mayor's son. Most kids were out trick-or-treating, having fun with their family, and generally doing normal, fun, safe things.

Not Henry, of course.

Henry, at the ripe old age of 4, decided that he must, absolutely must go look through the woods for ghosts. Not even to hunt them like a normal little boy, mind you. Just to… find them, you assumed.

“Hallows Eve is when they're most active!” he chittered excitedly, sounding more intellectual than most children, even people your age. Really, you would have just stayed at the Mills’ residence, their giant, cushy home, watching scary movies and eating candy ‘till your teeth rotted.

But he just had to go see the ghouls. Well, his mother said to do whatever he wanted, within reason. And you just couldn't say no to those big, dark brown eyes, could you?

As your plastic lanterns seemed to flicker and the noises of the forest sounded haunting, you started wondering if maybe you should have said no.

Another twig snapped beneath your foot, leaves crunching under your weight as you stepped over yet another root, minding not to trip over one again.

“… You sure this is a good place, Henry? It's a bit…” you paused, unsure of how to put “fucking spooky” nicer than that.

“… off-putting…”

The little boy giggled, turning back to you in his oversized coat. “Well, yeah. The spookier, the better!”

You internally groaned, managing only a tight-lipped smile at the boy. Once he turned back around, however, you visibly deflated and let your head hang for a moment before continuing after him.

Maybe you should have been the one in front, protecting him from whatever grotesqueries would be about this chilling night. But to be honest, you didn't have a clue what to do, and he seemed pretty knowledgeable about all things Halloween.

“You know how Halloween used to be All Hallows Eve?” He chimed, slowing his pace to walk a little more beside you. You nodded, giving him a hum of confirmation. ‘I mean, it's the only thing you'll call it, so I'd hope so,’ I thought.

“Well,” he continued, “Hallows Eve being on the last day of October would imply that November is All Hallows!” He was pretty proud of the fact, from his tone to the little pep in his step. Nodding thoughtfully, you took a second to try and remember a fact you learned in the second grade, years and years before the stress of being a young adult.

“Huh,” you hummed in thought. Henry couldn't help but be a little curious. “Huh? Huh what?” he questioned. “Oh, I was just thinking.”

Years back, you remember somebody telling you, maybe not a teacher but a mentor nonetheless, about All Hallows Eve. About the day after, and how important it was.

But the foggy memory could barely bring up an answer, so you just gave him what you had.

“I believe it's supposed to be November first that's important. Something called All Saint's day, or All Hallows day,” you explained, although a little unsure if you were right. “It's a day to commemorate all the Saint's of the Catholic and similar religions.”

A normal kid probably would've thrown a fit, or gotten quiet at the subtle hint that their deductive reasoning was wrong. Good thing Henry wasn't normal. The new information made his eyes light up with some kind of joy, as if learning and stories were the best thing in the world.

“What's Hallow’s Eve for then? Do they celebrate for two days?” He likely would've been brewing with questions if it wasn't so late, seeing as the both of you were getting the slightest hint of drowsiness. Make no mistake, the second he showed sign of wanting to go home, you'd be throwing him over your shoulder and running.

But your memories seemed to only disappear the harder you tried to think about them, something holy and something lost. So you used whatever you had left and some estimation to get an alright answer.

“Might have been to clear out any bad spirits for the spirits of the Saints to come,” you shrugged, switching the plastic lanterns to your other hand and letting the tired arm rest. “Wouldn't know, though. They might have something about it at the library, but I don't think they'll be letting anyone in anytime soon.”

Being reminded that a vast treasure trove of stories and learning was trapped behind boarded windows and a city mandate, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fizzle a bit. You never liked seeing him down, so you nudged his shoulder gently as you two came to a stop.

“Hey, it's alright. We can always write our own stories,” you winked. This made him beam, and that sparkle glittered once more. Feeling accomplished, you looked around at the thickly wooded area, fog shrouding your sight, and sighed. But before you could say anything about heading home, Henry let out a deep, sleepy yawn.

“Looks like someone's getting tired, huh?” You cooed at the puppy-like boy, seeing his cute little scrunched up face as you remark.

“Am not! I'm wide awake!” he stomped his little foot, not wanting to stop the search for ghosties. You, however, very much so wanted to get out of the chilly, foggy, spooky ass woods and watch over a cute little kid from the safety and comfort of a mansion.

“C'mon, Henry, it's getting late, and you're getting sleepy anyways,” you stepped closer to the boy, handing him your lantern. “Here, hold this for me.” He took it, albeit a little confused.

“Why do you want me to hold- wAH,” he yelped as you scooped him up and threw him over your shoulder, heading straight back for wherever it was you came from. “Nooo!” he whined, kicking his little legs. You could just tell he was pouting, probably making the saddest, biggest puppy eyes you'd ever see. Good thing he was on your shoulder.

“Yeesss,” you chuckled back, knowing better than to give in to his adorable pleadings. “Your mother’ll kill me if I don't bring you home now. Besides,” you grinned, having a trick up my sleeve, “I’ll make you some… pasta?”

His whining and pouting almost instantly dropped, and he was smiley again as he flipped back, knowing you'd catch him and let him lay across your arms. “Okay!” he chirped, getting the better end of this deal. The fog was dense and humid, but soft enough and easy to navigate through, so you were out on the street in no time.

As you were walking back to the mansion in the center of the city, the sleepy boy in your arms yawned again, cuddling closer into you as his eyelids slowly started getting heavier.

“Nighty night,” you whispered to him.

“Nighty…” he mumbled back, already fast asleep before the second “night” could leave his lips. The sweet boy looked so peaceful, so adorable in your arms as you made the silent and careful trek to his home. Hey, maybe it wasn't such a bad Halloween after all.

Sorry for not posting for a while, life has been beating me up for months. Might have endometriosis, might not. I do, however, have unexplained constant limb pain. The curse of the fanfic writer is true, won't stop me tho ;P

[scarecrow-collective]

YOUR GHOULS WITH COMPLEX DISOEDERS/DISIBILITY POST MAKES ME SO HAPPY AND I VERY MUCH AGREE WITH IT!! give us ghouls with actual issues!!

i hc swiss to have npd, did, and autism!!

i think his equal person would be phantom!! i think he likes attention to be on him and if it isn't it'll alot of the time cause him to crash. he loves being out there and overly talkative and stuff so that he seems more outgoing and extroverted so people like him more

i think he dissociates really badly and phantom helps him to try and cope with it. in my mind swiss doesn't know how many alters he has and doesn't even know who they are because he doesn't bother to know, and it's hard for him to figure it out. i hc he has really really bad memory problems and needs alot of reminders and stuff. sometimes the ghouls will write things on post it notes for him and still them around his room

i think his special interest is horror!! swiss loves spooky things especially werewolves!! his room has a tone of werewolf items like books and pictures and figures. he stims most of the time by rocking back and forth aggressively. he loves loud noises and if he's understimulated he just listens to a bunch of loud music. when he has meltdowns he tends to scream or cry and try to isolate himself and hit himself. phantom tries to keep hi from hurting himself while also trying to give him space

i very much project onto swiss 🐛

No cause you're absolutely correct about this and you should say it

[supernatural-bias]

𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧!𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐲𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mentions of demons, ghosts, over all spooky stuff

↳ song: sweet dreams in sea major—miracle musical

masterlist!

• Shane leads an interesting life

• Er, afterlife, I suppose, considering he had only sprouted his black, fluffy wings after being plucked from the land of the living

• But I digress

• Besides—he was happy

• He had never been the kind of demon to engage in all that blood torture and acult shit anyways. Instead, he took pleasure in harmlessly scaring assholes or the occasion teenager that he would stumble upon durring the witching hour—although that was mostly code for a three am dunkin' doughnuts run

• "The munchies are a serious thing, Ryan. What can I say?" He had shrugged nonchalauntly once, grinning goofily down at his friend that had just been asking about the bags under his eyes—which resulted in tales of his midnight snack runs. You stood with your arms crossed not too far away, shaking your head slowly, but Shane could see the hint of a smile tugging at your lips

• "You really meet to get better sleep, dude. I'd hate to postpone filming for TMS, but you know I will if you aren't up to it. Doesn't mean that Steven won't give you hell for not letting him do his bit with Ricky though." Ryan had just sighed, rubbing at his own eyes as if the conversation itself had tired him out. But just like how Shane had noticed with you, he could see the ravenette resisting the urge to smile

• "I mean, insomnia is the first sign of possession after all. Can't have a supernatural being living inside of the company, our fans would give us hell." At last came his joke. It earned a snort from you, pleasing Ryan, whose eyes crinkled at the edges pleasantly

• Shane just grinned sharply

• If only you two knew

• That was another fun thing about his chosen predicament

• I mean, come on. A demon who's best friends with someone terrified of them? All the while pretending he doesn't believe anything of the sort? At this point, he should just up and leave for Juliard. A degree in acting was a shoe in for sure with how he had been living the past few years of his eternal damnation

• And it was all the more fun with you there as well, the yin to his and Ryan's yang. Always ready with just the right thing to say in the moment or a shitty pun you had heard the other day. Throw Steven in the mix and the four of you were thick as fucking theives

• There were some downsides though. With life (er, death?) there always was

• Ghost Files was one of the things Shane looked forward to the most at Watcher. Doing Buzzfeed Unsolved had been amazing, and even though he was an inhuman being that could crumble businesses with a flick of his pointed tail if he wanted to—demons did play a part in evil corporations after all—it felt liberating to build Watcher from the ground up with Ryan, Steven, and you.

• Plus, there was the added bonus of more shows now—one of which included puppets. He particularly enjoyed that one

• But Ghost Files was the crowned jewel. The one thing everyone—crew, audience, staff, even cameramen—looked forward to

• What can I say. Old habits die hard—and most of these people had been doing Buzzfeed Unsolved since they could properly hold a mic. It felt good to do something familiar

• And that's what it had been like for Shane. He was excited, no, downright giddy, to be back in the element of ghosts and ghouls

• It was fun to watch you and Ryan skirt around an entirely ghost free house, nerves on end as the two of you jumped every little noise. Most of which Shane made

• That's not to say that the three of you didn't find haunted places. Oh no. You most certainly did. The Sally House was the most memorable of them

• That demon really had been ready to kill Ryan and you that night. Right on the pentagram in the basement. But Shane had been able to coax (read: threaten) it into not doing anything but flash a flashlight once or twice

• But sometimes, his true form wasn't enough to spook off the spooks, so to say. It was rare, but occasionally some brave, or incredibly stupid, ghosts would try their luck at laying a hand on you or Ryan

• That got them a one way ticket to the second death they would ever have the pleasure of experiencing. The one delt out by Shane being arguably worse than anything that happened in their mortal lifetime

• He cared for his people. It was as simple as that. So what if that made him unethical as a demon. He played around with hand puppets half the time for fucks sake and he enjoyed it. He was far from an ethical demon at this point, and he was fine with that

• Didn't mean that having to ward off spirits didn't put him into a bad mood though

• Shane would probably never admit it, but the idea of something hurting you two while he wasn't there to protect you left a taste as bad as brimstone in his mouth

• "Shane? Dude, you're looking pale. Well paler than usual." You had stopped in the middle of filming once to comment on his appearance, trying to hide the way you sucked at your cheeks with anxiety. "Don't tell me you've finally cracked and begun to get scared by all this."

• Ryan had smiled at your joke. But the smile slowly slid off his face as he took another look at Shane, who was not laughing in the slightest

• "That Taco Bell we ate earlier didn't settle well, that's all." Shane's excuse was flimsy, but he couldn't care less right then. He just wanted to stay as close to you two and the crew as possible in case another spirit tried anything

• "Alright. But if you need to say the word and we can take a break." You said steadily, jabbing Ryan in the gut playfuly when he didn't automatically back you up

• "Yeah! Yeah, what they said. And jeez you didn't have to hit me so hard. Asshole—"

• "Oh you wanna go Bergara?" You had laughed, comically winding your arm up like Popeye used to do in the cartoons. Ryan scoffed, donning his Ricky Goldsworth voice as he began to fake fight with you

• The sight was enough to bring a small smile to Shane's face. The two of you always managed to do that

• "Nerds." He chuckled, bad mood already begining to lift a little

• "Loser." Both you and Ryan threw back the insult at the same time, laughing all the while

[its-in-the-woods]

The Woman Who Couldn’t Die Part 6

master list

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Original Character 

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I can only research so much

Synopsis: There is something in the woods, and our brave travelers are stuck between a rock and a hard place.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: This is based on fallout except typical: Drug use, blo0d/g0re, animal death, alien critters, angst, lots of hurt no comfort, Canon divergence, hints of SH/SA/NONCON, Slow Burn,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

Enjoy the show kiddlets.

Night seems to come faster here, the tall imposing trees shrinking the daylight away. They had walked until Jade couldn’t see and almost fell again. The Ghoul had thankfully caught her before she had hit the ground, his lightning fast reflexes snatching her as she tripped over the uneven road. Carefully right her, and making sure he didn’t pull on the stitches Jade still had in her arm. 

“Careful there, ya got to tell me when yah can’t see,” The Ghoul said firmly. He had been weirdly quiet, usually there was a story or two they’d share between them. But today he had asked for silence, his head tipping this way and back listening to every small sound. Lucy had heard almost nothing, the silence was eerie. 

“I can’t see in the dark,” Jade said huffing, dropping her bag on the ground and stretching her back. She groans, the stitches in her back aching as she moves trying to pop bones back into place. The long walk always left her feeling stiff and tense, the added hush of the forest making her extra tense. 

“Exactly,” The Ghoul says, also dropping his saddle bag. “I can, so you gotta tell me when yah can’t see.” She wishes she could make out more than his shadowed outline, she was used to the dark, but this felt different. 

Jade flops herself down on the ground, digging around in her bag for water. “Guessing fire is out for the evening?” A fire here was a deathwish, she’d only be able to see just beyond its light, setting them up for an easy ambush.  

“Not sorry. Somethin’ is very off about this place,” The Ghoul states, she could hear him take a hit of the inhaler. Had he been taking it more often? She pushed the thought out of her mind, she needed food and maybe to try and sleep. The last thing she should be worrying about was if the Ghoul was going feral, they had a dozen plus vials on them. Right now making it to the next morning was more pressing. 

“I don’t like it,” Jade finally says, she didn’t, the whole place felt spooky. No noise. How was there no noise? “It’s too quiet, can hear you think.”

She could almost see the Ghoul’s eyes light up at her, “Don’t think you’d wanna know my thoughts now, Tiny.”

Jade huffs cracking open a can of food, she couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe she didn’t want to know, maybe she did. Jade knew somewhere down inside she wanted to know, to understand him more. Why? There wasn’t much of a reason besides connection. Something that was far too difficult to find in this husk of a world they lived in. Maybe she could pry something out of him tonight. She looks up at the stars, even though they weren’t enough to give light to this wretched place. “What if I did want to know?”

Silence for a moment, but then she hears him sit down, almost beside her. But always an arm's length away, why he couldn’t just sit beside her she didn’t know.  She remembers the heat of his hand wrapped around her body, how his hand had been inches from her face. Pushing that away she continues to eat the mystery meat in front of her. 

“I’ve been around for a long time. Too long if you ask anyone who knows me.” The Ghoul said out into the dark, his voice low enough that it didn’t echo. “Nothing good in between the holes I call ears.” 

Jade mulls that over, it was the most he had said all day. Hoping she could convince him to tell her more she asks, “How long?”

She could hear his boots slide on the dirt as he stretched out, “Long before you’re born, or your mother, or your mother’s mother.”

“You talkin' pre-bomb?” Jade pushed, she was walking a tight line here. He told stories, but never anything truely personal. Jade wanted more, she needed to understand what drove him to stay alive this long. 

“Depends on which bombs you are talking about.” He says she could tell that he had opened a can of something. At least he was eating, he hadn’t touched a thing all day besides the chems and a small amount of water. 

“I am talking about the bombs that end everything,” Jade states, she wasn’t terribly well versed in history, it wasn't like there was anyone teaching her. That said, she knew that there had been a single large event that had happened. That had flattened the entire country with nuclear bombs. This didn't cover the bombs that had been dropped between warring factions, or some such horseshit like that. 

“Yeah, a little older than those bombs,” He says it like a joke, like the fact he was over two hundred years old was nothing. How the hell had he stayed alive that long?

Jade finishes her can and drops it beside her with a clang. Every noise echoes around here, making her skin crawl like something was watching her. She rubs her hand nervously over the stitches that she could feel poking at her clothes. 

“Don’t think I’ve met anyone from before.” She adds, not entirely sure where to take the conversation. “I knew Ghouls could live for a long time. But I didn't think it was that long.”

The Ghoul huffs, dropping his own can beside them. “If you keep yourself fed, and watered pretty much immortal. Comes in handy I’uppose.”

“Have you thought about-” Jade stops herself, who was she to ask if he had thought about ending his life? She’d been here for a short time and the thought had crossed her mind more times than she could count on both hands. 

“Maybe one day,” The Ghoul hummed, she guessed he had laid down as his voice was lower to the ground. “For now, just gonna take it as it comes.”

***

The forest was eerily quiet, no buzzing insects, or scurry of birds, just the sound of her boots and the Ghoul’s spurs hitting the ground. Jade feels tight, her whole body coiling readying for something to jump out of the forest. If last night was bad today was somehow worse; she could feel that both of them were waiting on the edge of a knife for something to jump out.  There were a few dilapidated signs, a handful of empty tins, and other trash. But other than that no other signs of anyone. No fresh tracks, or small fire pits, it was as if no one had been here in years. The Ghoul was on alert, checking behind them regularly. The Ghoul being on edge only heightened her fear.

“Have you gone this way before?” Jade asks, talking helps ease the anxiety, even if her voice echoes around the place. 

“Not in a long time,” The Ghoul said, he stopped abruptly, head tilting as he listened. He held up one gloved hand to silence her.

Jade stops, trying to force herself to listen harder. The squeak of her leather holster and the rustle of the Ghoul’s jacket seem to reverberate around them.  As she stood with her head tipped the same way as his, a twig snaps. 

“Something is coming our way,” The Ghoul said, the shotgun he wore on his back now in his hands, he loaded it swiftly and started moving backward down the road. 

Jade grabbed her pistol checking rounds as she took up the same backward walk as the Ghoul did. She could now hear more limbs breaking off trees as they started to move back at a fast pace. Looking up at the tops of the trees she could see them moving; the trees parting in horrid cracks and snaps. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Jade stammers out starting to turn, pistol still in hand as she looks towards the Ghoul, an unreadable expression across his face. 

“RUN.” The Ghoul yells as he starts to move, turning the same as Jade. They both run in the opposite direction of the horrid noise. 

The beast crashes through the trees onto the roadway with enough force to topple trees onto the road. It was an unimaginably massive hulking thing, bear-like legs thick as tree stumps; each foot lined with dozens of claw-like talons, black matted fur that faded up into scale covered skin. The creature was nearly as tall as the trees, the head a mangled twist of flesh that looked like the burnt carcass of a deer. Its eyes flaming red, mouth open in terror inducing scream. The monster charged towards them as they ran, the haunting call shaking the ground beneath their feet. The screech was loud enough to momentarily deafen them. 

The Ghoul stops, sliding into a half kneeling position and firing a shot at its head. Jade took up the same crouched stance, steadying herself as she fired at the beast's underbelly. Black ichor oozed from its flesh but the beast didn’t slow down. Jade moves lower aiming for a leg, she watches as chunks of flesh go flying out of the thing. 

“Take out its legs” Jade calls, watching the Ghoul load in different ammo, before leveling his weapon back at the thing.

The creature came up on them fast and hard, the ground around them shaking. A loud pop erupts and one of the creature's front paws explodes into gore. The creature fumbles but continues forward on three legs. Barely slowed down by the missing appendage. 

“Fuck,” The Ghoul roared as he reloaded and went to aim, a chuck coming free from the blast. It wasn’t enough, the thing was going to be on top of them in moments. 

Any rational thought went out of Jade’s mind, her pack slipping off her back, they were going to die, and the beast was going to be on top of them in moments. Dropping her pistol, which had been nearly useless up to this point; she grabs the machete from her back and runs towards the thing. She could hear the Ghoul calling out her name as she ran straight at the beast. The thing's head coming down, mouth opening, decaying teeth, and spit drooling out.  Wild eyes burning against hers as she dove towards it. Jade could see right down the beast’s throat, as she crashes into its mouth, her makeshift sword straight ahead of her. The feeling of hot humid stink coming out as she turns to swing in an arch around the inside of the monster's throat. A wrecked scream shook her as she felt black blood splash around her. Her ears going deaf from the intense noise ringing around her. The space got smaller as she slashed and swung wildly, chunks of its flesh flying as she lodged herself in its throat. She could feel it trying to swallow, her machete lodged firmly in the roof of the creature's throat. Reaching for her waist Jade grabbed her hunting knife sticking it down into the soft tissue. The thing is trying to scream as she cuts and hacks, trying to remove herself from inside its maw. 

She felt another impact rattle the creature’s body, the beast tossing it’s head back and forth. Jade holding on for dear life and as she tries to cut and saw through whatever she could. Reaching up she grabs the machete slamming it in between her feet as she slides towards the monster’s guts. The soft flexible flesh below her opens up as she slides down the horrors esophagus. She dug her boots in as she felt it start to fall, her body tensing bracing for impact. Her world goes dark as she watches the ground come flying up as the creature collapses. 

The Ghoul felt fear wash over him as he saw Jade leap into the gaping maw of the thing. He calls out her name several times hoping it would somehow stop her. The creature stopping and shook its massive head back and forth trying to cough her up. He could see blood oozing as his companion struggles inside. He reloads the explosive round back into his shotgun. The beast pausing long enough for him to aim for the other front leg. The rounds punching through and shattering the beast's foot. It rose on its back to feet, front stumps trying to grab at the horror's throat. He could see the machete blade poke out and start to slide down opening up the beast’s throat. He reloads and aims for center mass,firing. The Ghoul hoping to the stars that he would miss where Jade was. A head sized hole went through the beast's chest, it sways back and forth before falling forward.

“Fuck,” The Ghoul shouts, running toward the beast, its fiery eyes dimmed, black ichor covering the ground, guts, and bones scattered in a circle of gore. 

He got to the beast trying to move it, which was a near Herculaneum feat. He managed to roll it enough too see where Jade had hacked underneath its giant jaw. The slit she had made that ran down the monster’s neck, gaped open. Following it down he used his blade to start opening it up more, going down to where Jade’s hands were gripping the machete. Two of her fingers on her left hand were gone, as he peels back the meat to reveal more of her arms.

“Jade, Jade,” Ghoul shouts, fingers slipping on all the black blood, he grabs at her hands and tries to pull. The right one felt wrong, looking into the hole it is clear that her arm is probably dislocated. Cussing some more, he cut and cut. Thankfully his knife was sharp. He found her head and her eyes rolling back as he tips her face up to him.

“You better not be fuckin’ dead,” He shouts, slapping her face trying to get her attention. “Come on girly, come on.”

He held her up and cut low enough he could grab under her left arm and pull. Hoping that he didn't tear her stitches as he yanked. Part of her popped out, her hips still stuck. Growling he rips at the flesh tearing it apart with his gloved hands and yanking her out. Her body flops on the ground covered in black goo. Scrambling over to her, he flips her over clearing her mouth and nose of any goop. The stuff was everywhere. He shook her, calling her name several more times, but she lay limp in his arms. Pulling one of his gloves off he searched for a pulse, his hands were too thick and gnarled from radiation to feel much. He lays her gently, taking his hat off he unzips her jacket and pulls her shirt up placing his ear on her chest. 

The soft steady beat of heart and lungs working was like a shot of chem. He leans back covering her skin gently, wincing at the number of fresh bruises blooming across her abdomen. Looking around he spots her bag, getting up he walks over and opens it up, grabbing a stimpak. He walks back and injects one into Jade’s neck. She doesn't move. 

He wasn’t sure the extent of the damage, she was missing two fingers which could be stitched closed and bandaged, her right shoulder was dislocated, another easily fixed thing. The bruising was worrisome, looking down he could see her feet weren’t sitting properly. Moving down he moved her pant legs up some, the coloring was purple at the top of her socks.

“Goddamnit,” The Ghoul hushes, he’d need to get her boots off. He untied them, opening them up some more, her feet were so swollen they didn’t want to come off. 

“You’re gonna hate me, but these got to come off,” Sighing, he cut the boots off. His hands might have lost a lot of feeling but it didn’t feel like her bones were broken. Carefully he grabbed her heel pulling it towards him and twisting. A satisfying pop echos, the Ghoul letting out a breath, before moving on to the next one. He rests her feet down on the ground, checking over the rest of her, he was shocked there wasn’t more damage. Next, he grabs her right arm feeling up to the shoulder and rotating it into place. The girl didn’t even move, he wonders if he should be grateful or worried. Leaning down he could still hear her breathing, looking over her face he couldn’t see any bruising but that didn’t mean there weren't issues. He grabbed his hat and slipped it back on, staring at her. 

As the Ghoul ponders what to do next with his companion, his eyes catch the black slim moving. Standing he watches as it starts to slither back towards the body. Looking around he could see bone had started to grow out of the stumps of the blown off paws. Turning he saw the slit at the thing's throat begin to mend. The black ooze moving on its own back to the mangled body.

“What the fuck,” Ghoul mutters as he watches the things start to piece it’s self together. It wasn’t instant but it wasn’t slow either. In a matter of hours, most of the gore would be gone and the creature repaired.

The Ghoul turning back to his unconscious companion, his mind running. Some part of him wanted to leave her there, take off, as she probably won’t make it anyway. Las thing he needed dead weight and all that. His eyes looking over his companion, she looked so different compared to the day he found her. Her skin wasn’t pale anymore, now a deep sandy color, the stitches on her arm poking out. 

Jade may have looked like a frightened young woman when he met her, but she was anything but. She was a survivor, a fighter, and had had his back on more than one occasion. The stupid girl had jumped down the throat of this beast without thinking.

“FUCK,” The Ghoul shouts, kicking at the dead carcass as he stomps over to the treeline. 

Snapping several smaller branches he walked back over to Jade, digging around he found a length of rope. He used it to make a makeshift sled. He wasn’t going to be able to carry her all the way out, but dragging her might give them enough to get away from whatever the fuck that was. He shed his duster laying it down on the makeshift sled, before moving his companion onto it, Placing the bags on either side of her bare feet to try and keep her steady. Grabbing the rope he started to move away from the dead beast. Looking over his shoulder he saw the blackness still seeping back into the dead body. He wished he had a bomb, so he could blow the thing up enough that it would take weeks to piece itself back together not hours.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

seven

*likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated

*we got a lot of hurt, and very little comfort, it's gonna be tense for a while friends.

@pixelatedprofilepic @hiddlebatchedloki @toogaytofunctiondangit

[sidhewrites]

🌸— OC IN FIFTEEN tag game

Saw this on a dash by a non-mutal and I stole it because I have Kaz on the brain

rules: Include 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC that describes their essence—you may include context, but the less the better.

Jesus shit!

Aw… my gross little trash son.

If I'm not fired by dawn, I'll put in a good word for you. Okay

On my honor, I will not raise the dead and unleash a horde of ghouls on Sutton without you.

Sit down, let me learn you Halloween.

You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. Especially if it hurts.

I don't want to be in the dark.

You wanna go out with me? Like -- as a couple?

So you agree. The basements are spooky.

Just -- let me help with something, okay?

Mmm....Ghost goffee.

I know it's not much, but I hope it helps you have a nice day.

If you say blood sacrifice out loud I'm going to go join the ghosts.

Don't use my love of Bram Stoker's Dracula against me.

I'll be down there with you. Pissing you off. Making noise. Bothering you, forever.

Tagging: @leechjuice @dyrewrites @abalonetea @jessicagailwrites @junos-office-drama @dreamywritingdragon @dreamcrow @sunnymusingsao3 and you!