#CACKLES LIKE FRANKENSTEIN

[crazed4rsonist]

FINALLY. THEY’RE DONE. (Transparent sprites under cut)

[zentriii]

trick or treat 🫵(•_•)🎃

every ask u send me increasingly feels like ur trying to make me shit myself btw 🥰

the current fic is shaping up to be a hurt/comfort but i'm not quite at the point where atsumu goes through it yet, but rest assured, i shall do everything in my power so that he does o7

here's a more lighthearted part from the beginning with one of my favourite lines:

“Anyways, are ya busy today?” Atsumu’s back straightens out of reflex. There’s a soft laugh in Osamu’s voice – that’s fine, that’s normal – but he’s strung his words together quickly, rushed in excitement, and that’s rare. He’s up to something. Atsumu can feel it. (He likes to call it twin intuition, twin-tuition if you will, but either way: colour him intrigued.)

he's just being a silly lad rn and twin-tuition is like. peak silly i adore it ヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝ

wanna come trick or treating?

[ace-the-fox]

I've seen one or two character ai Victor Frankenstein posts where they fix him but I did the opposite of that...

I bullied him

Asked to marry his creature

Accused him of being gay (he is)

And then called him edgy

I broke this man

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the thunder, she approaches

woke up to a miasma of fog and gloom, pervasive drizzling, and indolent rolls of thunder in the distance

[mothmore]

just got to chapter 5 in my frankenstein reread oh my god. i fucking love and cackle at the fact that henry is just like “omg victor ^_^ i’m so happy to be here to study with you at university finally after three years apart !!” and victor just stares at him with huge autism eyes shaking and malnourished like “i fucked up. big.”

[archivewriter1ont]

Cadet Batch Incorrect Quotes

Cadet Hunter: *to Echo* So how do we get you, anyway?

Rex: See, that’s kind of a long story...

Echo: Oh, you didn’t get me. Tech built me.

Cadet Hunter: W-what?

Rex: No, that’s not how it went at all – 

Echo: *has been waiting for this question for days* Yeah. He found a couple of dead guys and a bunch of droid parts and put me together like a Lego set. 

Cadet Wrecker: But you’re alive!

Echo: He set me on top of the Marauder and waited for a lightning storm. Like Dr. Frankenstein. 

Cadet Crosshair: *more disgusted than afraid* Our brother is a mad scientist! 

Echo: You helped him, Cross. You’re the best with a needle and he had a lot of stitching to do when he put on my arms...joints, you know...

Cadet Crosshair: *going somewhere to gag* I touched a dead guy!

Echo: Several, actually. The ones he found weren’t in great condition.

Cadet Tech: Do you retain any of your previous memories? 

Rex: That’s your only question?!

Cadet Tech: As unlikely as the situation sounds, it seems there were only good outcomes. One, we got Echo. Two, somehow I discovered the secret to life. I must go through the records the older version of me undoubtedly left for more information.

Rex: Echo, what have you done?

Echo: *hyena cackling*

[dietpitt]

💚🎃Green Is Definitely Your Color🎃💚

Stan Pines x AFAB!Reader Explicit | 2.8k words Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader, Reader wears a dress, Halloween Costumes, Trick-or-Treating, Sexual Roleplay, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink, Voice Kink, Stan is a Leg Man, Body Worship, Marking Kink, Reader Plays Bride of Frankenstein

In which body paint and Stan's mouth save the day (but ruin a perfectly good costume).

{Read on AO3}

Author's Note: Originally posted 2020 on AO3, but I wanted to give it a proper tumblr post. I'm very proud of this one except I didn't know how to end it and it shows lol

Thankfully, there are only a few things you and your boyfriend don’t see eye-to-eye on. Stan takes his coffee black (old habit from the days of shoddy motels and a life on the run), while your own brew of choice is iced (lasts longer and doesn’t get cold since it already is). He thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to scare a baby every now and then, and proceed to laugh in their pudgy little tear-streaked face. You? You told him he’d be the one bawling if you ever caught him pulling that in your periphery again.

Tonight, though? Tonight is the perfect example of just how good you two are together. Because tonight, you weren’t scaring babies. Tonight, on Halloween, you were scaring kids. And that was worlds apart from wreaking havoc in the grocery store, which happened the majority of the remaining 363 days of the year.

Sure, Stan always goes all-out for his beloved Summerween, but October 31st is when his freak flag really flies. It makes sense--  Fall brings less tourists than usual, and shorter daylight hours means fewer parents letting their kids come out to the woods to trick or treat, making every opportunity for a scare count.

With the Mystery Shack trading its typical kitsch for spooky ephemera-- fully decked out in giant spiderwebs, ghoulish figures, and angry jack-o-lanterns-- it’ll truly be a dramatic sight to behold.

But, for all the elaborate planning, special effects to make the eyes pop out of his skull and the bolts on his neck to spark and smoke, Stan still manages to miss a few spots needing body paint. 

“Alright, alright, I think y’got it,” Franken-Stan fake-grumbles up at you from his seat in front of the full-length mirror.

“Will you relax? You’re gonna sweat, and I’ll have to do your makeup all over again,” you scold, though your painted lips curl into a fond grin despite yourself.

Though the kids will start coming any minute, you’re set on completing the finishing touches, if for no other reason than to keep Stan from further grumbling later.

… And most certainly not because you also love the opportunity to dote, holding him close in ways he’d otherwise be too shy about. Not at all.

“Are you going to wear your glasses?” You ask, getting his ears nice and green with the sponge brush.

He gives it some thought. “As much as it hurts the spook factor, I can’t really scare anybody if I fall on my face.”

Another, final once-over at your work and you’re satisfied, stepping back and raising your arms in the air triumphantly to steal yourself for your best mad-scientist cackle. “My creation! It’s aliiiive!” 

Stan laughs, quickly standing and caging you with his arms against the wall. “Damn right. Alive as ever.”

You shoo both him and the remark away, looking over your white “dress” (old sheet) to check for any green that may have made its way onto your costume. “I thought you were in a hurry, hmm? There’s no time for a touch-up. Now, be a good ‘husband’ and carry the train.”

Stan’s eyes roll as he lifts the gown, following your lead downstairs. “Yes, honey.”

Trying very carefully not to trip, Stan helps you down the stairs. “I still think it’s dumb that The Bride of Frankenstein doesn’t get a name, though. Sure, she’s in it for all of three minutes, but she gets the movie named after her and doesn’t even get a line?”

“Nah, she just screams,” Stan laughs, dropping your dress as you meet the front door. “Like it hurts to exist.” He swings the door open and the both of you speak in unison.

“She gets it.”

You share a small laughing fit at that, making your way outside into the crisp autumn air, giddy to begin the festivities. A few to last-minute adjustments and tech checks, and The Shack will be ready.

“Seriously though-- why can’t she be, like, Victoria or something?”

Over by the skeleton crawling out from under the porch, Stan snorts. “Victoria? Why?”

You shrug. “Why not?”

“Touche.”

It’s finally the tail-end of the second hour, and you’re in position behind the semi-trapdoor mechanism on the porch, hidden behind a dark and stormy castle standee. You’re high on the energy so far, after making some kids scream-squeal in delight. Although, you did manage to terrify a toddler on accident without even trying-- the poor thing burst into tears at the mere sight of you walking out normally from the porch.

Maybe it was the semi-realistic stitches on your flesh? Who knows. All that’s clear is you felt awful, but Stan was very clearly amused-- and jealous, you’d wager.

But now that it’s past bedtime for most little ones, it’s time to up the ante with some added special effects-- and the fast-approaching gaggle of baby teens seem to be the first that’ll enjoy them.

Always on top of it, Stan lets out a Frankenstein-like groan, marching further from the end of the porch, arms raised in cheesy classic style. The kids stop in their tracks as he clears his throat roughly to give the spiel he’s practiced all night, an extra ~spooky~ lilt to his otherwise mostly-normal voice:

“Foolish humans! You daaaare demand gifts, when your hubris created me from cursed flesh, and your hatred ensured my demise?!” He’s truly in his element as his neck bolts flicker for emphasis, making most of the middle schoolers jump and gasp.

The one at the front of the pack though, doesn’t budge, instead holding their pumpkin bucket out with an overall look of disinterest. “Yeah, duh. Trick-or-treat, old man. Hand over the candy.”

“Rude little shit,” you frown, not even needing to see Stan’s face to know he’s going to enjoy this particular scare very much.

“Hold it, kid, ” Stan sneers, continuing his introduction, “if you want anything good to eat, you’ll need to ask the most blood-curdling-- ”

You flip the switch for the fog machine, and bellows of grey creep in around the Shack--

“--The most SPINE-TINGLING, repulsive monster of us all--!”

You quickly step on the nearby button, and lightning flashes across the house as thunder sounds--

“ --MY WIFE! ”

At his signal, your spring forward, eyes crazed as a horrendous banshee screech leaves your throat and white tendrils wave in the wind.

The rude kid screams-- and while Stan bursts out laughing and you smile evilly, you miss them reflexively reach into their bucket, pull something out, and chuck it right at you before scampering away.

With a dull thud, the projectile lands on your head with a muffled thud, sending you off balance and toppling off the platform in a second. You hear Stan’s barks at the hoodlum, but soon he’s up the porch at your side, just as surprised as you are.

“The hell-- you alright, babe?”

Stan helps you up as you glance around for the offending object that’s left your head and the arm that broke your fall aching. “I-- what the fuck was that?!”

A large, off-white sphere rolls along a groove in the deck, moved by your shifted weight. It hits the edge of your shoe, and you pick it up to find it’s…

A popcorn ball.

A really fucking heavy, rock-hard popcorn ball.

With a splotch of white from your forehead smeared across it.

Stan’s bursts out laughing, though he doesn’t let his supposedly helpful grip on your waist go. “Who the hell gave that thing out?? They must’ve been saving it for last century-- ”

It’s funny. Like, really funny. Comedy freaking gold.

But your head hurts and you fell, and shit, your wig’s messed up…

Your own laughter breaks suddenly, and before you even know it you’re tearing up.

Franken-Stan blanches the soon as it hits him. “H-hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry-- are you alright?”

The comforting hands on your shoulder, the concern in his voice breaks the dam, tears spilling out despite your mind knowing better, and wanting to continue laughing it off like you should-- like you want to.

“I’m fine Stan, I’m fine, I-- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I really don’t,” you laugh, dabbing at your eyes with a bandage-covered hand. “That was too perfect.”

“Don’t apologize, that kid’s an asshole.”

“An asshole with a hell of a pitch,” You laugh, finally meeting Stan’s eye. 

“Wanna go inside? It’s gettin’ late anyway,”

“No! No, are you kidding? We just got started with the lightning! I’m fine, I promise--”

He raise an eyebrow skeptically.

“Really, I am. I’m the most horrifying creature of them all, right?”

“Hah! Sure are, sweet thing, sure are.”

“Then let’s get back to scaring. I’ll be ready to duck this time.” You laugh, elbowing Stan before getting back into place, and Stan follows.

11:27pm

There hasn’t been a kid in nearly 30 minutes, and with another hour under your belt, the pair of you are content to turn in for the night for some movies and the Halloween goodie bags left behind by scared trick-or-treaters.

Flopping down on the bed, your tired body practically sings. “Goddd, that kid really got me good.” The hands on your face muffle your words, but Stan gets the idea.

Taking pity on you, he pulls up the nearby chair and starts unlacing one of your boots for you. “Happens in the line of duty sometimes. Shoulda seen what one fairy princess threw at me one year-- actually, I don’t even wanna know what it was.” He jokes(?), tossing the shoe aside and beginning on the other.

“Knocked me down at the top of my game…” you mutter, twiddling with the end of a splayed-out strip of your garment.

“Hey,” Stan drops the other boot to the floor with a thud, quickly peeling off the striped sock that lay underneath. “Don’t forget, you scared the absolute shit out of that brat.”

You let out a hum, then chuckle. “Triggered his fight and flight.”

"Exactly,” he replies definitely, sling-shotting the second sock in the air. It lands on your chest, but you quickly toss it over to nowhere in particular.

“I don’t know if I can even get back up. Just let me die here,” you groan, only half-joking as the strenuous activities of the day catch up to you. “I’ll be a corpse for next Halloween.”

“Well, yer already halfway there in that getup,” Stan shrugs off the jacket of his costume and lets it fall on the chair. A glance across your form reminds him of the “bolts” attached to his neck, which he peels off with a wince. “And I’m not far behind ya.”

“I’ll be lucky if I look this good when I’m dead,” you laugh, adjusting to get more comfortable and fully prepared to just pass out, wig and all.

Stan’s eye catches on the bare skin of your leg that’s revealed when you shift, the stark white of your gown falling to the side as it bends at the knee and the other still hangs off the bed uselessly. He hums, appreciative of the sensual view of you before him: limbs draped out, black eye makeup smudged...

Your eyes fly open at the feeling of Stan’s large hand on your knee, and you’re met with a familiar mischievous grin on Stan’s still-green face. “Mmm, you’re already bewitching, babe.” 

That look always manages to send a pang through your gut. “Oh, stop it…”

This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined the night ending, but don’t mind all that much if it’s headed where you think it’s headed.

“‘M serious,” Stan chuckles. “Yer right about The Bride too… never appreciated enough,” His thumb rubs a circle on the soft flesh on the inside of your knee, and you can’t help but sigh at the nice pressure. 

Your stomach nearly flips when he slides to his own knees, grip moving down your calf and lifting your leg to place a playful kiss to your ankle. His name falls from your lips in a whine, equal parts warning and pleading, for exactly what you can’t decide. You’re answered nonetheless by another peck just above the previous, then another with the slightest bit of teeth that makes you gasp and prop up onto your elbows.

The sight is absolutely ridiculous -- Frankenstein’s monster himself between your legs, smiling dumbly as he nips at the neglected one before he pushes excessive fabric up and off to reveal more of your form. “Stan, we-- oh my god--”

It’s when he pulls you forward on the bed that you see it: the splotches of deep green coloring the trail Stan is continuing up your thigh with a knowing look.

You laugh at first, starting to push him away so you can properly remove your dress, but he tuts, gripping your hips instead and curling an arm around your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder with an in-character groan: "You go nowhere.

You’re torn between teasing him about the fact that he’s really roleplaying as fucking Frankenstein right now, and the shudder that rolls through you as Stan noses your center through the cotton, saying: “Mine .”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say when his mouth meets between your thighs, teasing your folds through the fabric with a brazen tongue. You let yourself go then, leaning into the anticipation as after a moment Stan tugs the garment down and off, though it catches on your foot and is left dangling there uselessly.

“You’ll be screamin’ for me, don’t you worry,” he says, breath ghosting over your core before fully tucking in.

There’s no energy left in you to scream, but the needy whimpers and moans that escape as he ushers you up towards pleasure are melodic, a siren song that urges Stan to keep delving into your cunt, to hold your thighs open with a possessive grip.

“F-fuck,” you cry, reaching down and threading your fingers through his mop of black-sprayed hair between your legs. He groans mid-lap at your clit, and you gasp as his hands join in on the ministrations, caressing and petting from your hips to your stomach.

It’s when he starts sucking that you start to really writhe, tugging roughly at his locks to push him deeper. He slurps your arousal right up, the sound mortifying yet helping thrust you closer to the fast-approaching peak.

“C’mon, honey,” Stan says, thumb maintaining a rhythm on your clit. “Come for me, darling.”

The foreign pet name does it, sending a rolling orgasm that hits you in waves, crying out Stan’s name and other sweet nothings before going limp.

After a moment he sits back, more than proud as he wipes his mouth and watches you twitch and moan through the lingering pulses.

“Wow-- what was that all about?” You manage to pant out, made curious again as Stan stands suddenly, walking over to the mirror on the far-side of the room.

“Check it out,” he says, bringing the mirror to the edge of the bed and leaning against it with a self-satisfied grin.

Sitting up, your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and glowing-- with a prominent mess of green smeared along your skin, practically outlining each and every touch that made you come undone. A few complete hand prints are even visible, on the backs of your knees, on your hip-- even a comically clear outline against the stark white of your covered chest.

Your face burns hot as you can’t help but laugh in disbelief, both at what you see and the unexpected thrill of it; it’s delightful, and silly, and sexy, and overall just an image you think won’t leave your head for a while.

Stan chuckles at your reaction, pleased. “S’a good look on ya-- damn near electrifyin’ , some might say.”

“Come here,” you ask, arms out to beckon him forward. He does, and you don’t miss the prominent bulge in his trousers as he walks over.

Pulling him down by his shirt, you lock him into an appreciative kiss, raking your nails across his scalp and practically pulling him on top of you to continue the makeout, bed size be damned.

Needing air, you finally break away, glancing back at the mirror to see green now decorating your mouth and cheeks. “You’d missed a spot,” you inform Stan, pointing to the new addition to your face.

He hums, ducking down to nip at your neck and clavicle, painting them just the same. “Could think of a few more spots needin’ a touch-up,” he growls, rolling his hips.

Snaking your hand into the band of his pants, Stan lets out another groan at your touch and when you say lightly into his ear:

“Looks like you could use some white with that green, hmm?”

Happy Spooky Season!! 🎃💚🎃

[Masterlist]

dividers by @strangergraphics and @firefly-graphics

[see-arcane]

The Book: Victor is 20

The casting: 45 year old man

They keep aging Victor up to Appropriate Dad-like Age rather than allowing him to be the unhealthy fainting fever-brained college kid barely out of puberty because

1) Easier paternal comparison with the Creature and

2) It's a lot harder to be aghast at his abandoning !!1! of said Creature and definitely for real responsibility for all the murdering he does when you actually highlight his youth and the unhealed death trauma that spurred him, a 'man' barely past being a boy, to chase the concept of a better human being to spite death

Like, imagine seeing Victor Frankenstein standing beside the Creature as they appear in the book.

A young and stunned David beholding the Goliath he made, misplaced, and has met again only after said Goliath took a turn for the monstrous. A talented boy who invented a wretched man. There's so much more meat to be had with that contrast than with 40-year-old Victor VS Generic Man-Monster in His Prime Creature.

This isn't just a warped parable about parenthood and the way society can form its own monsters. It's about a desperate young man, distraught at the inability to prevent grief and loss, who throws everything into making the 'ideal' impervious improved human. He wanted to make something better than himself and frail humanity, but fucked up colossally. And isn't that something we never see in Frankenfilms!

Imagine a movie that reminds us that Victor wasn't just chasing pure hubris in cackling mad scientist fashion. He wanted to cure death itself so no one would hurt from loss as he did (and never moved past). A child building a solid imaginary friend to magically fix the problem of his pain as masked by scientific cause. The tragedy in it being that the very thing he made to repel death was the figure who would go on to murder all the loved ones he had left in poorly aimed vengeance.

I don't doubt that Oscar Isaac will do well in his role, however del Toro steers him. I'm sure I'll enjoy it. But I don't really need another middle-aged Victor Frankenstein.

I want to see the actual haggard and wretched boy, limping through his final days of life in an arctic waste. A child crushed by what amounted to an elaborate toy he made in lieu of processing his mother's death.

But I won't hold my breath for it.

[bradleysass]

Butter - word count: 477 - Starchaser - @leeny-leens

James Potter was many things: charming, brave, annoyingly optimistic. But to Regulus Black, he was also wildly ridiculous in ways that defied explanation. Case in point: the current state of their “low-key” date night.

The plan had been simple: a movie at the shabby cinema downtown where the tickets cost less than a galleon. James had insisted on it, claiming it was authentic. Regulus, against his better judgment, had agreed, mostly because he found it impossible to say no to James’s imploring puppy eyes.

What he hadn’t agreed to, however, was the mess currently unfolding in the sticky-floored theater.

“What is that?” Regulus asked, eyeing the Frankenstein’s monster of a “cup” James had placed in the cupholder between their seats.

“It’s our drink,” James said brightly, sitting back and shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Well, technically, it’s a repurposed popcorn bag. But genius, right?”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “James. Why does our soda smell like butter?”

“Oh, that’s the best part!” James leaned in conspiratorially. “The butter flavor seeps into the soda. Adds character!”

“Adds vomit, more like,” Regulus muttered.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” James said, nudging the bag toward him. “Come on, try it! Sharing is romantic, remember?”

Regulus stared at the grease-stained popcorn bag, which was now precariously half-full of soda, condensation pooling around its sagging bottom. Against every ounce of his better judgment—but unable to resist James’s stupidly endearing grin—he took a tentative sip from the straw sticking out of the corner.

The taste hit him like a punch to the face.

“James,” Regulus said, his voice flat, “this soda tastes like butter. And shit.”

James cackled so loudly that the elderly couple three rows down turned to glare at them. “It’s an acquired taste!”

“It’s a crime,” Regulus shot back, shoving the bag back at him. “Why didn’t you just buy a proper drink?”

James shifted in his seat, suddenly looking sheepish. “Because, uh… I didn’t want to spend my inheritance on snacks?”

Regulus blinked, momentarily speechless. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” James grinned, though it was a little crooked this time. “I mean, it’s not my money—it’s my family’s. Feels weird throwing it around, you know? Plus, this way we get to be, like, creative!”

Regulus stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide whether he wanted to throttle James or kiss him. Possibly both.

Instead, he sighed and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. “You’re an idiot, Potter.”

James, taking this as permission to steal the armrest, leaned against Regulus’s shoulder and whispered, “But I’m your idiot.”

Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t push him off. The lights dimmed as the previews started, and he couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips.

The soda was disgusting, the theater smelled like old carpet, and James was a certifiable menace.

[supernotnatural2005]

The Haunted House (Drabble)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Haunted houses are more scarier than you thought. Including the fake kind.

Warnings: None

AN: Happy Halloween guys!!! 👻 just a short light hearted, fun drabble for you all, before my halloween dean x reader one shot later today 🫢 enjoy and let me know what you think 💕

My Masterlist

“Why are we doing this again?” Sam asked as the three of you stood in line for the haunted house attraction.

“It’s halloween man.” Dean muffled around another piece of candy from the bag of treats you’d bought from a confection stand.

“Yeah Sammy. Where’s your holiday spirit?” You snickered and gave him a little nudge with your elbow as you moved up in the line.

He gave you a deadpanned look. “Everyday is halloween for us. I don’t really see the appeal in experiencing it on our day off.” He complained and Dean rolled his eyes, childishly mimicking him with his hand behind his back.

You covered your mouth to stop your giggle and Sam snapped his head back to Dean, who quickly stopped what he was doing, looking like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You’re both actual children, d’you know that?” Sam sassed as you all moved up again, coming to the front of the barrier for your turn next.

“And you wouldn’t have us any other way.” You cooed and hugged his arm. It got a resistant smile out of him.

-

After the worker, who was dressed like a poor version of Frankenstein, gave you a brief rundown on the rules once inside - his tone bored and monotonous, he finally lifted the caution tape-barrier for you.

You jumped up and down in giddy excitement, which amused the two brothers as they followed you in.

As you entered, you had to squint at the near pitch blackness. Your path only guided by an ominous green light in what looked like a long corridor. The floor was covered in fog, making what you could see even harder and so you shuffled along, keeping close to Dean.

You felt his hand grasp yours tightly as you rounded a corner, an evil cackle sounding somewhere above you, making you jump. As you crept along, paranoid at every nook and cranny you passed, you came to a door. It had ‘Enter if you dare’ written on it, in what you assumed was supposed to be blood, but was most likely red paint.

“Dean you go first.” You whispered and pushed him forward.

“What? Why have i got to go first?” He whispered back, manoeuvring so he was standing behind you instead.

“Because you’re my strong, protective boyfriend.” You teasingly argued and tried pulling him ahead of you again.

“And you wanted to go to this stupid thing.” Dean argued back, slapping your hands away. Sam heard your offended gasp and rolled his eyes, knowing they’d never get through this thing if he didn’t just open it himself.

“I’ll do it. You big babies.” He mumbled the last part and swung open the door. The three of you made your way in, you and Dean much more cautiously, scanning every corner of the room.

It was laid out almost like a Tim Burton movie. The flooring as black and white checkered squares and the walls painted in such a way it gave the illusion it was twisting. It wasn’t until you got toward the middle of the room did you hear the door slam closed behind you.

You screamed out in fear and grabbed onto Dean’s arm, making him jump in turn.

“Jesus, Y/N.” Dean huffed and shook his head.

“Sorry.” You muffled into his arm.

The three of you turned to see the door was in fact closed, but what freaked you out the most was the shadow in the dark corner beside it.

“What the fuck is that?” You whispered harshly and moved to hide behind Dean.

“What’s what!?” He demanded, his voice panicked as he frantically looked to where you were pointing. It was then he caught sight of the dark figure beside the door and his heart rate spiked.

Suddenly, a loud blood curdling scream came from the figure and a woman with long black hair and a bloody gown came jumping out of the shadows, a chain around her neck keeping her tied to the wall as she reached her long fingernails out to you.

You’re not sure who the scream came from, but bolted it to the door on the other end of the room, Dean hot on your tail. Sam however, shook his head in amusement as he watched you both run out of the room, not really fazed by the actor who was still making monstrous noises behind him.

-

As the three of you exited the house, you and Dean were visibly shaken up, voices raw from all the shouting and screaming that continued throughout.

“Where’s your holiday spirit guys?” Sam mocked teasingly from behind you and both you and Dean gave him a look, making him burst out in more laughter. “Man. You should have seen your faces.”

AN: And there it is! Only a short one, but a fun one to get us in the holiday spirit 👻😂

[millylotus]

Super Villain Summer Internships [Everlasting Trio, DpxDc]

Everlasting Trio don’t know what they’re going to do for college, so they decide to just bite the bullet and do a few internships. Although they all forget to tell each other that they’re each interning with villains.

Danny is with Mister Freeze, going under the name Blizzard

Danny is basically the one doing a bunch of intern work while also not, at first he was just kinda there cause he liked being cold

But then he and Freeze begin to bond over feeling responsible for things that aren’t really their fault, Danny promises to help Freeze revive Nora

They have a father-son relationship, in how they’re actually pretty similar in personality & powers

Sam is with Poison Ivy, under the name Blood Blossom

Sam is the only one to have a legal internship because Ivy actually wrote her down as her legal lab assistant

She and Pam are very Big Sis-Little Sis energy, Sam is the annoying younger sibling who wants to do everything their big sister does

Pam finds this devotion to their ideals adorable, and supports Sam in their joint endeavors

Tucker is with Bane, going as Ruin

Tucker acting as Bane’s tech guy, he’s been working on a new type of venom for Bane he doesn’t get into many fights but if he needs to he doesn’t back down

They have an Uncle-nephew relationship going on but also Tucker gets a bit obsessive about making the best venom that they have Frankenstein & Frankenstein’s Monster going on too

It’s mainly just Tucker getting to cackle evilly while Bane just say “Alright chiquito, have you eaten breakfast yet? You get angry when hungry.”

The batfam is not prepared to deal with two mini rouges and a secret mini rouge who they haven’t met yet but are still worried about

A couple weeks into their internship the Gotham Rogues have their bi-monthly meeting where The Everlasting Trio is introduced to everyone

Ivy, Freeze, & Bane were also surprised to see that their interns actually knew each other/are dating

The Everlasting Trio are the entire reason why the Gotham Rogues are even talking to each other at the moment

Now the bats are even more confused & concerned because the rogues are usually at each other’s throats

It’s the only thing keeping them from taking over tbh

When the batfam find out that the three interns they’ve had to deal with for like most of June, all know each other and are actively in a polycule, they feel like everything makes so much more sense

The trio do have an ulterior motive to this whole thing, at first it’s just indulging in their less than stellar morals

Until it’s not

They become more enthralled in their ambitions, Sam begins to care less and less about the world outside of plants, she cares less about the civilian casualties, she begins to use ecto-science on plants

Pam & Harley are very concerned because they’re both on their path to redemption and Sam is going in the other direction

Danny becomes just as obsessive as Mister Freeze with trying to bring back Nora, he’s bringing in ecto-science in an attempt to bring her back through re-bonding her soul back to her body

Freeze isn’t against this exactly, but he’s unsure if it’ll bring the real Nora back, he’s still gonna go with it

Tucker has fully fallen into the mad scientist idea, he wants to make Bane the best version of himself the best human possible, his new version of venom is directed by ecto-science and such

Bane of course wants to be stronger but he knows at some point Tucker is gonna go to far, so he’s willing to hold the kid back if need be, but he isn’t going to actually do it he wants Tucker to go bad

By the time the Trio reaches the point of no return their bosses realizes this is not going to go their way anymore

Everlasting Trio: You’re just afraid to take it, One. Step. Further.

The fight to take back Gotham from the Everlasting Trio is a long one

Sam has complete control over Robinson Park [biggest park in Gotham] along with its botanical gardens and such

The surrounding neighborhoods are overrun with plants, she has people asleep and under her control for the most part

Tucker has most of the upper districts running wild on the venom he’s made, people are now more powerful than Superman himself and have lost their minds in their blind rage, they’re all mainly under his control

Danny has the east bays and the graveyards near by, everything is frozen over, the bodies in the harbor and in the ground have been reanimated into ice soldiers and are under his control most of the time

Ivy, Harley, Freeze, & Bane have to call in the bats for help with the Trio and their plans

They split up to go for their kid, with a few bats behind them to back them up

Ivy & Harley pull on Sam’s care for the rest of the world

Bane brings Tucker down from the high, making him think this through

Freeze gets Danny to realize that nobody he brought back is who they first were

By the end of it the trio is subdued after a big fight and some impassioned speeches

They’re admitted into Arkham Asylum, they promise their mentors that they’ll do better, that they’ll get better & make them proud of them

Admittedly I completely forgot to mention the trio’s family back in Amity

Let’s just say they don’t all know the nature of their internship

Jack & Maddie are aware that Danny is interning under an important doctor but they weren’t sure who he is

Angela & Maurice don’t know what’s going on with Tucker he hasn’t given them any stable information, he wanted to keep it that way with them thinking he’s still a good kid

Jeremy & Pamela know exactly what Sam was doing, she made sure of it, she wanted them to know they’re baby girl was running with villains now

Jazz is actually living in Gotham while this is going on, she going to college at GU for psychology, she’s interning at Arkham

She’s actually close with the bats, having met Jason, she’s one of the few psychs they trust at all

She knows that Sam is working with Ivy, she’s tried reaching out to her but Sam refuses to talk to her

She’s only ever seen Blizzard from afar, and was unable to connect him with Danny

She didn’t even know Ruin existed until the bats told her, and even then she didn’t know he was Tucker

When they’re taken down Jazz finds out who they are and she’s crushed, she feels she not only failed Sam, but also Danny & Tucker as well

Since the trio are all 18+ by the time they’re arrested nobody from Amity is sent anything to tell them they’ve been arrested

For about a week Jazz is actually their therapist at Arkham before she’s re-assigned when it’s realized she knows them personally

Jazz ends up telling the Foleys and the Fentons what happened

Then Amity gets the broadcast of their very own Samantha Manson being arrested in Gotham, New Jersey for eco-terrorism

Everything else just blows up in their faces after that, The three families don’t even dare show face around for awhile

They go to Gotham to actually visit their kids in Arkham

The Foleys are so disappointed in their son for what he’s done, Tucker can’t even look them in the eyes as the yell at him about everything

For the Mansons it sprouts into a huge shouting match with Sam almost jumping to table to try and physically fight her parents

All the Fentons do is stare at each other, they try to ask Danny why but he’s not cooperating with his biting remarks and not wanting to even see them for almost a week

Regarding their sentence and institutionalization the trio only has about five years or until they show sufficient mental stability for two years straight

This is another one that's been sitting around for awhile. And I also remembered the the banner i made for Batfam & Everlasting trio content

Main Story Index [It's kinda messy but it's got links to most everything]

[000marie198]

Sonic and Tails dressing up as Dr. Frankenstein and his monster and getting too into the bit to the point that Sonic doesn't even act like himself even once all night and Tails is given free reign to speak as much mad scientist technobabbles as he wants to remain in character and one of their friends jokingly say, "Did he lose even more braincells or something?" abt Sonic and Tails goes

"Hm? I'm not sure? That neurotransplant surgery I performed wasn't very well prepared and granted I shouldn't have dug up decaying bodies out of worry for high security in GUN's post mortem forensic cell but don't worry! There's only a 67% risk of infection, isn't that right, Sonic?"

Cue Sonic attempting to pick up a piece of candy with lolling head and floppy hands and making incoherent gruff noises

Tails: "See? He'll be fine! 😊"

Nobody can tell if he's serious or not and they stare at him horrified.

The brothers are cackling and wheezing at the reaction pictures they secretly took after returning home

[olailamajnoon]

Bruce and Zatanna were making pancakes in the early morning. The sun was shining through the windows of the cabin in the woods. It was an idyllic day, not to be spoiled by anything.

But everything good was meant to go bad, Zatanna reflected, as Bruce studied her pancake-making technique closely. 

“That’s your OCD talking, not you,” Zatanna said, when Bruce objected that she had poured out half the batter into one pancake. The man was seeming closer to an aneurysm than she had ever seen him. 

“That’s…not the way,” Bruce choked, when Zatanna poured out the rest of the batter wholesale into the second pan. “You’re supposed to spread the damn….oh for the love of Christ.” He turned off the gas. “We’re not making cake, Zatanna. That batter could have made twenty pancakes. Twenty!” A vein was standing out of Bruce’s temple, pulsing. Zatanna looked at it interestedly. 

“I am so happy you’re not a Robin,” Bruce finished scathingly. “Or I would be dead of a stress headache by now.”

Zatanna swallowed, tears coming to her eyes. “Bruce, it is not an accident, or a freak of design, what I did,” she said, pointing to the obese pancake sitting in the pan. “God made this pancake. Through me.”

Bruce glared silently at Zatanna’s Frankenstein’s monster of a pancake, as if its very existence was a challenge to him. “Then eat it. Eat the divine pancake.” He emptied it into a plate and shoved it into Zatanna’s face. “Eat it!”

“Are you…quite okay?” Zatanna asked, concerned at last. Bruce was massaging his temples with his fingers, making circles. 

“No,” he said quietly. “And  I don’t think I will ever be. You’ve driven me to the edge of sanity. First the invisible spirit car, and now—” He grabbed Zatanna by her pigtails, just hard enough to make her yelp, and swung her around. “Listen to me,” he hissed, holding up a finger. “You are an abomination. An abomination.”

“I know,” she said cheekily. She stared at the aspirational pancake like it might reveal the secrets of the universe. Then, with the solemnity of a high priestess, she took a bite.

“Oh God, that’s bad,” she choked, fanning her mouth. “It’s so, so bad.”

She looked up at Bruce in silent appeal, offering him the plate.

“Good,” said Bruce, and he pushed the plate at her. “Now finish the rest.” A dark undertone had crept into his voice. He crossed his arms and smiled. It was a sinister, nefarious, hideous, malevolent smile, and it suited Bruce perfectly.

"No," Zatanna whispered, horrified at the change in Bruce's demeanour. "No. It's finally happened." She moved backwards. "You've cracked. I knew this day would come, I just didn’t think it would be today." She looked down, as if forgetting what she was holding. "And...over pancakes?"

"The universe," said Bruce, "is going to be my playground." He was still wearing that strange smile. It was like watching the face of a Darth. He didn't cackle evilly. He didn't need to.

Zatanna shovelled more pancake into her mouth. "Oh fuck this sucks," she said, referring more to the food than to Evil Bruce, although that sucked too.

She was already rearranging in her head how she would explain this entire situation to Clark. "Yes, Bruce had a mental breakdown. Yes, it was because of pancakes. No it was not because of me. What are you implying?"

She sighed, and offered Evil Bruce some pancake. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Suck my dick."

"Okay, but only after this." She frowned at him. "How is it that becoming evil has somehow made you hotter?"

"That sounds like a you problem."

[crplpunkklavier]

i like when media depicts doctor frankenstein as the type of mad scientist thats cackling and drunk with power all day because all victor does throughout the book is sob and whine and bitch about how creating sentient life is the worst thing thats ever happened to anybody

[rallamajoop]

Hi! I saw your analysis posts about the Lords of RE8, and I am absolutely in love! The early concept of the Duke as the fifth Lord always fascinated me, especially since I wonder what "motif" there could have been in term of horror for him. I mean, the other lords all answer obvious archetypes and that ever since their concept art (vampire, werewolf, Frankenstein, ghost). I wonder what would have been the plans with the Duke and his early, more zombified-like version... What d'you think?

Well, as I've said before, I don't think there's much to suggest the Duke was ever meant to be "the fifth lord" in the sense of having his own domain or a big boss battle, or however else you're thinking here. He doesn't appear alongside the other lords in any of the early concepts for Ethan's trial, and all the lords' iconography is big on square corners and blocks in a way that really wouldn't work with a fifth entry. All we've even got to go on to tell us he was ever meant to be a lord at all is a single line attached to one piece of concept art (below). I don't even see him as looking all that much more zombified there ‒ it's just a sketchy art style.

My guess, FWIW, would be the Duke was always going to be Ethan's ally/shopkeeper, but with some late-game reveal that he was a (deposed? former?) member of the lords as an explanation for his implied powers and connection to the village. But the Duke doesn't need to be explained for the story to work, which may be why the 'fifth lord' idea was ultimately dropped.

If you really want to dig into fairy tale archtypes though, there's an obvious one that already corresponds to the Duke, with his horse and carriage ‒ and that's the old, wandering fortuneteller. Typically this would be a Romani woman (although I don't imagine she'd be called 'Romani' in any authentic fairytale), and our hero would more likely be trading money or favours for advice rather than treasure for weapon upgrades, but the Duke fits the bill otherwise.

In fact, as I mentioned in my post on some of the game's unused assets, the Duke actually has a number of unused voice lines that seem to relate to him selling Ethan more information (“You won’t come across this information just anywhere,” “A little bird whispered this to me,” and “Not to presume, but some advice if I may.”) ‒ possibly treasure photos or hints to significant locations.

Fortunetellers and other folk who offer cryptic-yet-vital advice are a regular feature in horror stories too, not just fairy tales. If offended, their role can easily overlap into that of 'witch', for greater monster cred. But for my money, the Duke himself doesn't come across as the easily offended type, so expanding his role into 'monster' might be reaching.

Alternately, you could also look at the villainous Masked Duke from the Shadow of Rose DLC. I doubt he much resembles any authentic 'original' plan for the character, and he's very much his own entity, but he's certainly an effective villain.

(Though if neither of those work for you, given the Duke's size and association with food, 'literal giant who eats people' might also be a fairytale archtype that could fit.)

All that said, I do wonder just a little if there was ever a plan for the Duke to have a proper villain-reveal moment, when you learn he's the fifth lord. I have this whole semi-developed theory that the Duke is actually working on Miranda's direction for most of the game we all played: after all, she seems to want Ethan to destroy her 'false children', and it's the Duke who sets him on the path to do that (with some input from the old hag, our other cackling-fortuneteller-character). It's only once Ethan wakes up in the Duke's carriage at the very end that he unambiguously picks a side against Miranda. After all, even if he was always privately rooting for Ethan, why stick his neck out for a man who might not even survive the day? That's just not good business.

But even if the Duke wasn't working for Miranda from the start, how much do we really know about his motives? It's far too easy to read his eagerness to buy the crystalised remains of mould-infected individuals as the stuff of war profiteering. How much would the additional remains of Miranda, and even Ethan, be worth to him? And these are hardly the only possibilities for what he could really be after!

In short, I would actually love to see more villainous takes on the Duke. Don't get me wrong ‒ I do love that a character as shady as him doesn't turn out to have been Evil All Along, but he's still sinister enough that I'm intrigued by AU possibilities where he has his own twisted plans for Ethan all along, whether as part of Miranda's scheme or all his own. There's stuff you could do here, I'm just saying!

One one final note, people have suggested the owl crest you can see in the background of his shop and the carpet of his carriage was intended to be the crest of his house, and that seems broadly plausible (more on that & translations in my post on everything we do know about the village lords). While I'm at it, have some high-res versions of both from the game assets.

I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that an owl represents wisdom, or how that tracks with his role as a source of information for Ethan either.

Does it actually look like the crests of the other lords, though?

Eh, a little? You'd have to do some heavy reworks to make it fit in a diamond like all the others. As for overall shape, you could even say it bears more resemblance to Miranda's crest.

Does that mean anything? Eh, if you want it to. Who knows?

(I am also going to nitpick you just a little and say that none of the lords was ever a werewolf. The werewolves are the werewolves, the missing lord in your list would be Moreau as the hunchback or swamp monster. We really don't need anyone else thinking Heisenberg is a lycan, that's really getting tired.)