#GOING EXTRA SPOOKY THROWING ON EVERYTHING I CAN

[faggotwalkwithme]

IT'S FRIDAY THE 13TH LETSF UCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

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Straw Hat Pirates Halloween/Autumn Headcanons!

Tags: SFW, GN! reader, can be read as platonic or romantic (minus Chopper’s part, which is purely platonic), literally just what the title says.

Warnings: None!

A/N: Happy Halloween! I think I wrote a lot more for Franky and Robin than I did for anyone else, but please enjoy my silly little headcanons. <3

Luffy

This boy loves everything about Halloween. It’s easily his favorite time of the year.

Him, Sabo, and Ace would work on their costumes for days on end, using whatever they could scavenge up in Grey Terminal, Dadan’s shack, and random shit they found in the woods.

Absolutely went as Shanks at least once.

Makino would always insist on making costumes for the three of them, but would always get turned down. This was something the brothers bonded (and competed) over and they wanted to do it without help.

If she finds their costumes, though, she will do her best to touch up their shoddy stitching while they were away.

Luffy, Ace, and Sabo have definitely tried to trick-or-treat in High Town to get the best candy. It’s the perfect time to sneak in- no one would question a couple of little kids running around in masks and shitty costumes, right? It’s just part of the spooky Halloween aesthetic, isn’t it?

Yeah, they stood out like sore thumbs among all the store-bought, clean, not-spooky costumes.

Luffy still makes his own costumes every year, and he has the weirdest and most poorly-made costumes you’ve ever seen. He puts in a ton of effort, though. Every costume is made with his own blood, sweat, and tears, and he takes a lot of pride in them.

“What are you supposed to be, Luffy?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

It isn’t. He’s supposed to be a vampire, but looks more like a starved, mangy gorilla.

He throws a mandatory costume party on the Thousand Sunny every Halloween. There is no getting out of it. If you try to get out of it, Luffy will whine your ears off until you agree and then drag you back to his room so you can help him with his costume.

He still sucks at sewing.

Help him make his costume and he will love you forever. He’ll try to help you with your costume in return, of course.

If you bought a costume, he’ll try to “upgrade” it. How he thought werewolf fur would be an upgrade to what was supposed to be an angel costume, you had no idea. It’s the thought that counts, I guess.

He also eats all the candy and sweets Sanji prepares. Sanji has to prepare extra batches in secret just so you and the rest of the crew can eat.

Knocks himself out pretty quickly, though. He parties hard and crashes even harder after all that sugar. Will fall asleep on you and get clingy.

I feel like his favorite Halloween treat would be caramel apples, especially if Sanji goes the extra mile to make them Halloween-themed. A caramel apple that looks like meat on the bone, completed with some “scary” blood (red food dye), is something he will go insane for.

Zoro

Zoro also loves Halloween, but for all the wrong reasons.

Any holiday used as an excuse to drink sake, and Halloween is no exception. This man gets absolutely plastered during Luffy’s party.

You will have to pry the bottle of sake out of his cold, dead hands after his liver fails.

Chopper is so concerned. Please babysit Zoro so he doesn’t actually die.

This mf cannot be trusted around kids during Halloween. If the Sunny is docked at some random island, he’ll find a way to sneak off (probably intending to buy more sake) and end up terrorizing the trick-or-treaters. Will scare the shit out of them and laugh.

Will scare the shit out of you and laugh.

No one is safe, except for Chopper (unless he’s really drunk).

Tells super shitty scary stories.

For the love of god, don’t let Zoro leave the ship. You will not be able to find him for the rest of the night. Don’t let him go alone, at least.

If you go with him, good luck.

If there’s some sort of haunted house close by, you guys will end up going in there.

Huge plus if you scare easily. He feels strong and dependable when you cling onto him. And he’ll poke fun at you for getting startled by the jump scares.

If you don’t scare easily, then you can both make fun of the shitty jump scares.

Zoro puts in no effort when it comes to his costume. Either buys a really shitty mask from the store or goes crazy with the fake blood. Sometimes both.

Always incorporates his swords into his costumes, too.

“What are you, Zoro?”

“A zombie swordsman.”

“All you did was put fake blood on your old clothes, though.”

“And?”

Compare him to a used menstrual product and he’ll kill you. Possibly already got into a fight with Sanji over that.

He’s probably one of the last people awake, even if he is extremely drunk. You’ll have to drag him to bed while he mutters nonsense.

His hangover the next day is horrible. He will not be able to do anything. Either tries to sleep it off or complains about it endlessly. He wants you to stay with him in both circumstances.

Zoro isn’t a big fan of sweets, so I don’t think he has a favorite Halloween treat.

Nami

Nami loves all things autumn, Halloween included! Just not the scary shit.

Hay rides, corn mazes, pumpkin patches, apple orchards, fall festivals- she loves it all (except for carving pumpkins because they smell like ass). If she gets the chance to go to any of those, she will take it and drag you along with her.

Will also drag you along with her when she goes shopping. Although that activity isn’t a fall-exclusive one, she still loves it. Will try to get you to buy a matching outfit.

Also makes Sanji get pumpkin spice as soon as it starts being sold again. In a modern AU, she would get that Starbucks pumpkin spice shit all the time.

She loves baking. Bakes an excessive amount of pies and cookies and pumpkin breads (just another reason for Luffy to love autumn).

Bellemere absolutely went all out during Halloween/autumn for Nami and Nojiko (to the best of her ability), so October is a super nostalgic and a slightly melancholy time for her. Especially since she couldn’t celebrate for a long time because of Arlong.

She wants to spend as much time with you and the rest of the crew as she can and go all out with decorations. Will absolutely talk about old memories of hers if you give her the chance.

But onto the actual Halloween headcanons.

Nami would take you to go costume shopping with her, but would buy it behind your back and keep her costume a secret up until the night of Luffy’s party. Her and Usopp would try to do a group costume theme, likely dragging you and Chopper into it while they’re at it.

Either works perfectly or everyone’s theme ideas are too different, so you scrap the plan.

You know that one quote from Mean Girls?

“In Girl World, Halloween is the one day a year when a girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girls can say anything else about it."

This 100% applies to Nami. She will pull out the sluttiest costume you’ve ever seen.

Like… you’ve seen lingerie that covers more skin.

“Is this supposed to be your costume..?”

“Obviously. I’m a cat- didn’t you see the ears?”

She’s just wearing lingerie with a cat ear headband.

Loves Luffy’s mandatory costume party. She’s the one that decorates for it, helps Sanji with the food, and plans out all the activities. She wants everyone to have as much fun as possible, so there are lots of party games and themed sweets.

Will get into a drinking competition with Zoro if you and the crew place bets on them. She’d do it for some extra cash.

Will get fucked up and you’ll have to send her to bed early, but she’ll have no regrets (if she won). All smiles and happy that she got to spend the night with the people she loves.

I feel like her favorite Halloween treat would be fruit flavored gummies, but her favorite fall treat would be peach and berry cobbler. She also hates candy corn.

Usopp

Similar to Nami, Usopp loves autumn and all the festivities that come with it, but he lowkey hates Halloween.

Like, he enjoys the pumpkin carvings and the costume making, but he hates all the scary stuff that comes with a holiday like Halloween. Haunted houses? Spooky decor? Monsters? No thank you. He could barely handle Brook.

A victim of Zoro’s scares. </3

Will get upset with you if you purposefully scare him or set him up to be scared. Be nice to him please.

Swamps himself with personal projects for October. You’re always invited to hang out with him in his workshop as he distracts himself with his creations (and hides from Zoro).

Make sure you drag him out every now and then to do non-spooky activities. I suggest a petting zoo or some sort of farm. Maybe a nice hike to take in the beautiful scenery.

Absolutely loves bonfires and making s’mores. Just don’t tell any scary stories, okay? His heart can’t handle that.

He also loves autumn candles, cinnamon brooms, and scented pinecones. Him and his workshop smell so goddamn good.

This man is the king of carving/painting pumpkins. He makes the coolest designs every year and he has a lot of pride in that. He wins any competition having to do with aesthetics. He always harvests the seeds for Sanji to roast.

He makes the autumn decorations for Nami. Wreathes, cute scarecrows, little paper leaves to string up around the Sunny- that kind of stuff.

Also this man totally crochets and knits shit for you and everyone else on the crew. Expect a sweater when it starts getting cold.

Him and Robin work together to make Chopper’s costume. With the two of them collaborating, they make literal art for the reindeer. Will make you a costume if you ask.

Obviously makes his own costume. He’ll go as less scary versions of classic monsters or heroes from whatever comic books he finds in the New World. Asks for your input when he hits mental roadblocks.

“Hey (Name), do you think my costume would look better if I added this to it?”

Shows up fashionably late to Luffy’s party. Which is completely intentional and not because he started questioning some of his design choices for his costume and had to make some last minute changes.

Spends a lot of the night eating and dancing.

Is super proud of himself when he wins a game and gets smug about it.

He knocks himself out pretty early, but not as early as Chopper. Wakes up glad that Halloween is finally over and still feels some residual pride after winning.

Usopp’s favorite Halloween treats are pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. He’s festive like that. Keeps a jar of them in his workshop so he can snack while he works.

Sanji

Sanji did not give a shit about Halloween for the longest time. He couldn’t really celebrate it with his family (“you’re above that”) or on the Baratie, so Halloween was just another day for him.

That is, until he found out about slutty costumes.

Now he goes crazy for Halloween every year.

Other than that, he doesn’t really have any interest in the holiday.

He is, however, very interested in the farmers markets that always pop up at this time.

He’ll invite you to go with him and help him pick out the best seasonal ingredients.

Corn, apples, potatoes, squashes, sweet potatoes, eggplants. Also snags some spices so he can make a pumpkin spice blend for Nami.

Like this mf gets everything. You struggle to keep up with him as he explains what dishes he’s going to make with all the produce.

Would also go apple/berry picking with you. He finds the ripest, sweetest fruits ever.

Him and Nami exchange new dessert recipes all the time.

The kitchen has seasonal decorations, but nothing flammable and nothing close to the stove/oven. (Luffy tried to hang one of Usopp’s wreaths above the stove and almost caused a fire.)

Doesn’t really give a shit about his own costume, but he always looks really good in whatever he picks.

He goes for simple costumes that don’t heavily alter his appearance. Think butlers, vampires, devils, cowboys, etc.

He does buy a ton of accessories for his costumes, though.

“Do you really need this for your costume?”

Yes he does.

Spends all day working on the food for Luffy’s party, with the help of Nami and you. Super spent at the end of it, but very proud and happy.

Makes the food Halloween themed and tries to give it some nutritional value.

He also makes actual food and snacks and not just desserts/candies.

Sanji definitely wasn’t the biggest fan of the Halloween party at first, but it very quickly grew on him (totally not because of the sexy costumes).

Absolutely shits on Zoro for the insane amount of fake blood he uses on his costume. Zoro shits on him for picking a boring costume.

He has a ton of fun at the party though.

Doesn’t get as wasted as Zoro, but does drink.

Drunk Sanji is super funny tbh. Cracks some really funny jokes and manages to tell some really good stories.

Is complete ass at some of the games, but he doesn’t care. He can have fun without winning.

Another person who goes to sleep kinda early.

Sanji’s favorite Halloween treat would be chocolate covered pretzels, maybe peanut brittle. He loves the combination of salty and sweet. I also feel like he would enjoy black licorice.

Chopper

Chopper had never heard of Halloween. Well, he’s heard of it, but never really knew what it was.

Whenever he and Dr. Kureha traveled around Drum to help people in October, it was all the children talked about.

Dr. Kureha would always brush him off when he asked about it, saying that it wasn’t anything he should preoccupy himself with (she didn’t want him to get hurt again).

But once that he’s with the Straw Hats and they explain the concept to him? He goes fucking crazy for it now.

Not for the horror aspect of it, but he adores the costumes and the trick-or-treating.

This mf also goes crazy for fall festivals.

When you finally stop at an island that has a fall festival, Chopper practically drags you off the Sunny to go.

Agua frescas, funnel cakes, donuts, cookies, fried chocolate bars, huge ice cream cones, cotton candy, milkshakes, etc. He loves all the shit that you can eat/drink there as long as it’s sweet.

Ends up getting a bad stomach ache though.

Gets kinda frustrated and sad when he struggles to win any prizes.

You have to explain to him that the games at the festival aren’t meant for you to win and he gets mad at the people running the games for scamming.

You finally win (or steal) a massive stuffed animal for him and he loves it. He shows it off to everyone when you finally get back to the Sunny.

He is in awe of the color of the leaves. They’re just so pretty and he’s never seen anything like it.

He likes stepping on the super crunchy ones.

That gives you the idea to make a massive pile of leaves for him to play in.

He loves it. Makes leaf-angels, throws leaves everywhere, buries himself.

He invites you to play with him and you both have a blast.

He never has to worry about his costume, since Robin and Usopp always make it for him.

His costumes are always adorable, even if he’s supposed to be a monster or something spooky.

“Your costume is so cute, Chopper! Are you a bat?”

“It’s supposed to be scary!”

Him and Luffy party so hard on Halloween night.

Eats almost as much candy as Luffy and passes out in a similar way.

Dances with you and plays as many games as he can before the sugar crash takes him out.

You have to carry him back to his bed before he falls asleep on the floor. He has a smile on his face and thanks you for making everything extra fun.

Chopper’s favorite Halloween candy would be candy corn and those pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies.

Robin

As a kid, Robin used to love Halloween and go all out for it.

All the archeologists would decorate the library inside the Tree of Knowledge with things like fake spider webs, paper ghosts, and small pumpkins to make it fun for Robin.

She always had the cutest costumes. She would dress up as her favorite book characters or archeologists she looked up to.

She wanted to stay inside and continue studying, but the professors managed to convince her to go outside and be a kid.

Would share her candy with Professor Clover and everyone else and end up passing out at the library.

She has not celebrated Halloween once since the fall of Ohara.

Not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t. She either couldn’t go out without fear of being recognized or whoever she was working under at the time wouldn’t let her.

Fast forward and she’s with you and the Straw Hats. She’s finally able to celebrate it again and she is lowkey excited.

Reads scary stories and gothic novels all October to get herself into the spooky mood.

She’ll invite you to sit next to her by the campfire as she tells everyone the most horrific scary story you have ever heard. Usopp dies inside.

Her morbid sense of humor really comes out at this time of the year, which is occasionally directed towards Brook.

If there’s a haunted house/hay ride, scary maze, escape room, or anything else like that, Robin will going and will be taking you with her.

Chuckles if you get scared and tries to warn you when there’s an upcoming jumpscare (she can see them coming from a mile away).

Out of all of the scary activities, escape rooms are her favorite. The majority of the time she can figure them out easily, but once every blue moon, there’s an escape room that requires more effort than usual.

Always let’s you help out with the puzzles. Escape rooms are really boring if only one person is doing all the work. She wants it to be fun for both of you, not just her.

Bonus points if you both are actively being chased/hunted while in the escape room. The added tension is so exciting for her, even if it isn’t particularly scary.

She would also love petting zoos. Her favorite animals are the goats. They’re just so goofy and she can’t help but love them.

Robin makes her own costumes and they are always beautiful.

Definitely goes for a classic gothic vampire for her first Halloween with you and the Straw Hats.

Goes the extra mile with accessories.

“Wow, Robin, your costume is gorgeous! I love the fake bone jewelry.”

“Thank you, but these are real.”

You can’t tell if she’s serious or if it’s her sense of humor.

In a modern AU, she would try to get you, Franky, and Chopper to all go as the Addams Family. Chopper is Pugsley and you and Franky have to fight over who’s going to be Gomez and Wednesday. Robin serves cunt as Morticia.

She’s always the first one to show up for the Halloween party.

Wins quite a few of the party games that Nami set up, much to Usopp’s chagrin. She lets him win a few to boost his ego.

Takes you to dance with her when Brook plays slower songs, listening to you talk about whatever you’ve been up to leading up to the party.

Drinks a lot of red wine, but doesn’t get plastered like Nami and Zoro. Looks elegant as hell while she’s drinking in her costume.

She’s the last one to go to bed. If you stay up with her, she’ll tell you a little about her past Halloweens and forgotten traditions.

Robin’s favorite Halloween treat is sour gummy worms. She loves sour candies and the fact that they resemble worms makes them perfect for Halloween.

Franky

Franky fucking loves Halloween. Always has, always will. If Halloween has 1,000,000 fans, Franky is one of them. If Halloween has 1,000 fans, Franky is one of them. If Halloween has 1 fan, it’s Franky.

Loved going Trick-or-Treating with Tom, Kokoro, and Iceburg. Halloween was something they all loved and they celebrated it with gusto.

He still competed with Iceburg, though. Who had the better costume? Who got the most candy? Who could finish their work in time to go Trick-or-Treating?

Iceburg usually took that last one.

But the sentiment carried over after Tom’s death and Franky grew up.

The Halloween parties that the Franky Family would throw were insane. Nobody outside of the Family was invited, but tons of people turn up anyway.

Like, Franky knows how to throw a party. Tons of food, booze, and cola were present, along with good company. These guys would go crazy for hours.

No one in Water 7 gets sleep on Halloween because the Family will be blasting music into the early hours of the morning.

He is always so hyped for Luffy’s Halloween party. He will talk your ears off about all his plans for October and the party.

He loves going apple picking. There’s something so very therapeutic about being in the orchard and finding the best apples with you.

He makes his own homemade cider with the apples you both picked, which is pretty damn good.

He’s also a sucker for cookouts. Sanji usually handles all the cooking, but Franky will be on the grill. Don’t argue with him.

It isn’t on par with what Sanji makes, but he puts his heart into those hotdogs and burgers.

Makes a really good steak, too. Once again, not Sanji-levels of good, but the man knows his way around a grill.

Would go into shock if you asked him for a well done steak. Why would you do that to a perfectly good piece of meat?!

Always helps to set up for the bonfires.

Makes the most s’mores. He always sets the marshmallows on fire, though. He claims that charred marshmallows are the best.

You can hear the crispness of the poor mallow as he bites into it. That mf is fossilized.

Builds animatronics for the party and they are the coolest things ever. They look so realistic and scary and they’re amazing.

Modern AU Franky would recreate FNAF as per Luffy’s request. The Bite of ‘87 will happen.

Franky also makes his own costumes.

Well, he makes the accessories. He has to buy the clothing part of it. It’s not that he can’t sew- he can -it’s just that he sucks at making clothes.

He prefers to go as traditional monsters like Frankenstein, werewolves, ghosts, etc.

He also will put on Halloween makeup. Will gladly let you apply it for him if you’re good with makeup.

One of the only times he will put on pants is if he’s wearing a costume. Even then, he tries to think of ways to still achieve the look he’s going for without wearing them.

He loves matching/themed costumes. If you match with him, it’ll make his year. He gets so happy and excited.

“We look super good, (Name)!”

Goes so hard during Luffy’s party. He has been looking forward to it for weeks and he is not afraid to let the world know that.

He drinks a ton of his homemade cider and cracks a bunch of jokes.

Loves everything about the party. He wants to do everything he possibly can.

He’s the first to start dancing and convinces you and your crewmates to get out onto the dance floor with him.

He’s really good at dancing tbh. Dancing with him is a blast.

Gets wiped out after a while and has to sit down and recharge with a cola. There’s a 50/50 chance that he will end up falling asleep before he can get to the cola.

Franky doesn’t really have a favorite Halloween treat, but he loves anything homemade. He destroys all of Nami and Sanji’s baked goods. If you make him something, he will gladly eat it and tell you it was super delicious.

Brook

Brook feels pretty neutral about Halloween. He hasn’t celebrated it since he was a kid and doesn’t have much interest in celebrating it now (unless partying is involved).

His favorite part about this Halloween is that no one bats an eye at him being a skeleton. And that he gets to make 10x more skeleton jokes than usual.

(And the sexy costumes.)

He loves autumn, though! His first autumn outside of the Florian Triangle makes him really emotional.

Gets pretty melancholy when he thinks about how much of his life that he missed, but is very grateful to be alive in that moment.

If you really like Halloween, he will gladly participate in Halloween activities with you.

He’s not a huge fan of haunted houses or corn mazes.

He has gone to haunted houses with you before and he ends up scaring the actors when they realize he’s a real skeleton.

He has to turn down multiple job offers.

He really likes pumpkin patches and fall festivals, though!

They’re so lively and colorful and they make him feel happy to be alive. Especially seeing how excited the other people (and you) are to be there.

Speaking of colorful, he loves going on nature walks and taking in the color of the leaves changing. He’ll collect any leaves that he thinks are especially pretty and show them to you.

Being out in the wild with all the natural beauty inspires him.

He writes multiple songs while he’s out there. The majority of them are rock and roll, but there are some more classical songs mixed in there.

You’re the first one to listen to all his new songs.

He’ll whip out his old fiddle and play hauntingly beautiful music, then switch to his guitar and put on a Soul King performance.

He also loves walking around and looking at all the Halloween decorations with you. Brook loves seeing people be passionate about things, even if it’s something he doesn’t have much interest in.

When it comes to costumes, he usually just buys something related to the dead/undead.

Ghosts, zombies, the Headless Horseman- that kinda stuff.

You could throw a white sheet over him and recreate that one Spongebob Halloween special.

BUT, if he finds a really good silicone mask that looks mostly human, he will wear it for shits and giggles.

“I’m just bones underneath! Yohohohoho!”

Thinks that it’s peak humor.

He always parties hard and Luffy’s Halloween party is no exception.

He’ll bust out the new rock songs he wrote earlier that month and preform them for everyone.

Drinks a lot of booze and gets wasted.

Also gets a lot more vulgar.

But he keeps the mood lighthearted and cracks just as many jokes as Franky.

At some point does stand up comedy when he gets drunk enough.

It’s not bad.

Ends off the night with one final song before heading to bed.

Brook would say that his favorite Halloween treat is candy bones, but it’s really anything with peanut butter.

Jinbe

Jinbe is also really neutral about Halloween. 

It isn’t really celebrated by anyone in the Fishman District, excluding a few young children who were fascinated by human culture.

It is celebrated in Ryugu, though.

When he first returned to Fishman Island, he was asked to participate in some of the Halloween activities.

He gave out either the best or the worst candy and didn’t dress up for it.

He doesn’t know what the point of Halloween is.

Doesn’t really get the appeal of the horror aspect of it, either. Why would you intentionally scare yourself?

He’ll still go with you to haunted houses and listen to you talk about anything horror-related, of course.

He prefers the Trick-or-Treating and costume aspects of the holiday. It’s kinda strange but cute.

Since this is his first time celebrating Halloween with you and the Straw Hats, you have to explain a few of the traditions to him.

In exchange, he shares some of the Fishman Island traditions with you.

Pumpkin carving/painting becomes a favorite activity of his quickly. Not only is it fun, but he likes the idea behind it.

He likes the outdoor activities, like picking out pumpkins at the pumpkin patch and bonfires.

Jinbe tells the best bonfire stories ever. They aren’t scary (that’s Robin’s job), but they are super entertaining and funny.

He sets a few marshmallows on fire, but not intentionally. Eventually he gets the hang of it and roasts golden brown marshmallows every time.

He gives them to you, Chopper, and Luffy since he isn’t the biggest on sweets.

He also likes going to the fall festival with everyone.

He goes on a few of the rides with you, but they aren’t his favorite things in the world. He prefers the games.

He is godly at carnival games. There isn’t a game that he can’t win.

When it comes to costumes, Jinbe doesn’t put much effort into them.

He usually just throws something together with whatever’s in his closet.

Doesn’t overdo it with accessories either.

Tbh he doesn’t know what he’s going for, he’s just throwing shit on that’s vaguely Halloween-esque.

“What are you, Jinbe?”

It’s whatever you think it is. You gotta use your imagination.

He participates in all the party activities, but he spends most of his time drinking with Zoro and talking to you about life.

He will start dancing once Franky gets on the floor. He’s a good dancer tbh.

He participates in a few of the games and activities at your request, but usually sits out.

Wins any card games.

He makes sure everyone is where they’re supposed to be and alive before he goes to his room.

Thanks you for a fun night before he goes to sleep.

Jinbe’s favorite Halloween treat isn’t much of a “treat”- it’s pumpkin soup. He likes how smooth it is and loves the taste of pumpkin.

[pedrito-friskito]

the warrior and the witch - part two

summary: pero’s life and yours become deeply intertwined, although fate has other plans for you both.

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, cursing, unprotected p-in-v (wrap ur shit), depictions of assault (not sexual), drinking, more blood, a bit of yearning, a bit of longing, a bit of angst 👀

a/n: part 2! I’m glad y’all are liking this as much as I’m enjoying writing it 🧡 the magic is real and the spooky vibes are keeping me going!!

PART ONE 🍂kay’s autumn adventures🍂 PART THREE

It becomes far to easy for him to fit his life into yours. You slot together all too perfectly, and not just when you’re tangled up in bed together, sharing breaths and stealing kisses.

His horse shares the pasture with yours. The trunk at the end of your bed is soon filled with his clothes, as well as your own. You fix him tea each morning before you tend to your growing orchard together, more trees filling the field beside the cottage. He lets you teach him how to bake, his versions of the tarts and pies you make for the village a little sloppier, but you’re quick to assure him they’re just as delicious.

His swords hang by the door, left untouched for longer than ever before, but still within reach, to be used if trouble should come looking. He’s nearly half a world away from the Wall, but Pero still feels himself looking over his shoulder, his brow hard as he surveys the horizon, every cart or horse that comes past the cottage making him get to his feet, watching it disappear over the hill, waiting until he’s sure you’re safe.

“You worry too much, love,” you tell him. You’ve taken to using the same nickname for him that he has for you, though yours is always in his native tongue. Amor. Mi amour. Mi dulce amor. “Nothing will harm us here, I made sure of it.”

You’ve shown him your handiwork, the protective spells and charms that surround the cottage — and its inhabitants — from the outside world. You know what you’re doing, and he knows you can handle yourself. Gods only know you survived long enough with out him, and he’s told you as much.

“I did,” you reply, a smile appearing on your lips that he instantly wants to kiss, “but it was a lonely life.”

“And now?”

“And now,” you repeat, crawling closer to him, pinching his chin between your fingers, leaning up to ghost a kiss over his scarred cheek, “I have you, my bed is never empty, and my heart is forever full.”

Your words send a flurry through his chest, warmth spreading out and coating his lungs like a summer rain. The old witch’s words echo in his mind constantly. Her soul calls to yours. He thinks it’s the truth, knows it must be the truth; with everything he’s seen in the world, the notion that there is another soul on this plane that sings the same song as his, it seems feasible. It seems less and less farfetched with every day he spends in your presence.

You have a gentle way about you, a demeanour that makes him wonder why the people of the village judge you so harshly, why they throw insults and ignore you. You take it in stride, even on the days when he accompanies you, still offering your help where you can, sneaking extra tarts to the poorer children who have no coin to spend, leaving baskets of apples on the doorsteps of families who have too many mouths to feed and not enough to go around.

Your magic is something else entirely. He’s awed by you each time you use it, from the simplest things — the front door of the cottage swinging shut with a wave of your hand, the blankets turned down on the bed with a twist of your wrist — to the most complicated.

When the land grows cold and the snows come, he takes his horse into the forest, a sleigh drawn behind him to collect firewood and whatever hunting he may come upon. A wolf crosses their path, spooking the horse, Pero tumbling from his saddle, landing hard in the snow. The horse loses its balance and topples sideways, crushing his leg beneath the beast’s massive weight.

Barely a moment passes before he hears your heaving breaths, the dark blur of your skirts and heavy winter cloak flashing through the forest. You’re at his side in an instant, your hands frozen and your cheeks equally so, but you don’t seem to notice, your focus on his horse. He watches, wincing in pain, as you take the beast’s large head between your palms, your mouth moving with soundless words, eyes fluttering shut, lashes fanned against your cheeks. The horse makes a quiet noise, blowing hot breaths that turn to steam in your face. Slowly, the beast gets to its feet, knees bent in the snow, easing his weight off Pero’s leg until it’s completely gone.

The pain doubles and you abandon the horse, eyes flashing something silvery and bright as you crouch before him. You take his face in your cold hands, thumbs swiping his cheeks. “What hurts?” you ask, your voice hoarse as he’s ever heard it, thick as anything. You cradle him to your chest, peppering the top of his head with kisses.

“My leg,” he grits out, one arm curling around you, holding you close if only to offer some of his warmth. His other hand squeezes his thigh, trying to will the pain to ebb even slightly, but to no avail.

You press a wet kiss to his temple before leaning back, disentangling yourself from him, moving to inspect his limb. Your fingers are nimble, gentle as they can be, probing at muscle and bone until you’re satisfied, your brow pinched as you work.

“Broken?” he asks, wincing hard when you prod a particularly sore spot. “Fuck.”

“No,” you tell him, shaking your head. “Something’s out of place.” Your fingers glance across his knee, and he nearly yelps as the pain spikes. “There.”

You move back up closer to him, one hand under his chin while the other settles over his on his thigh. Your fingers span his, your palm cool against his hot skin. He feels your nails dig into his chin, lifting his face until his eyes are locked with yours.

“This is going to hurt,” you tell him, “but you’ll feel better after, I swear it.”

“Just do it, amor,” he grits out, pushing his forehead against yours.

You kiss him as you do it, light flaring from your palm as your hand moves down to his knee, closing around the joint and shifting. He groans into your mouth, the pain searing through his limbs like a white-hot poker. Your kiss is only slightly distracting, but once his knee is back in place, the pain subsides, and your hand continues to move, something more akin to the warmth of a candle flame seeping through his muscle and bone. Your chest is heaving, and he lifts a hand, pressing his palm to your chest. Your heart races beneath your skin, your breaths short and staccato, and he pulls away from you slightly, searching your face.

“Amor, you are shaking.”

“The pain,” you breathe out, swaying slightly in his grasp, “is it gone?”

It is, he realizes. The warmth from your magic had faded, his knee returned to its rightful place, but there is no pain. No remnant of the injury, not even the ghost of an ache left simmering beneath his skin. Nothing.

“What did you do?” he asks, his voice dropping low, his hand lifting to your cheek. He calls your name as your eyes flutter shut, open again slowly. “What did you do?”

“I took it,” you murmur, barely above a whisper as your eyes roll back and you collapse into the snow.

Now it’s his heart that’s racing. Your body has gone cold, any trace of warmth sucked clean from your bones. Terror isn’t the right way to describe how he feels as he scoops you into his arms and starts to run. His knee makes no complaints, his body focused on only you, getting you home, getting you safe, getting you warm. His horse follows dutifully behind, snorting lowly as it drags the sleigh along.

He nearly kicks the door down, slamming it shut with his boot as he carries you through to the bedroom. Pero lays you on the bed, your prone figure making his heart skip in his chest. You’re still breathing, but it’s shallow, too slow. Quick as he can, he stacks wood in the hearth, strikes the flint on the kindling and tends to the fire until he can feel the heat start to permeate the room.

Then he returns to you. Your cloak and dress are nearly soaked through, your boots caked in snow. He nearly snaps the laces trying to pull them off of you, tossing them over his shoulder, not caring where they land on the floor.

Most of his time with his mercenary friends was spent in the heat, but some of them had travelled elsewhere. One man had been as far north as north goes, to the sprawling, snow-capped mountains. He’d told tales of the cold, how he’d nearly died on one of the peaks, and a young woman had saved him from freezing to death. “She stripped me down, stripped herself, and lay with me,” he’d told them, a glint in his eyes as he remembered, reminiscing. “Her body heat warmed my own, slowly and surely, gently enough not to shock my heart, and come morning, I was right as rain.”

The man’s words echo loud in Pero’s mind as he yanks back the layers of fabric on the mattress. You’d sewn two new blankets as the cold grew nearer, and he was thankful. He peels your clothes from your body, letting them fall in a wet heap on the floor. He pushes you beneath the blankets, pulling them to your chin, and then strips himself. Still, his knee makes no protest, no pain sparking up his leg at all as he rids himself of his cloak, boots, clothes. The fire crackles in the hearth and he slips into bed.

Your body reacts to his closeness, immediately turning towards him, a low moan bubbling from your lips as he pulls you into his arms. He tucks your head beneath his chin, scooping you onto his chest. Your limbs sprawl wide, but after a moment, your hand twitches, knuckles cracking as you curl your fingers around his shoulder.

“Pero,” you groan out, your voice laced with pain, and he moves your head back gently, searching your face.

“I am here, amor,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the space below your eye. “Stay with me. I need to get you warm.” His hands start to roam, flattened palm skimming every plane of your body. The chill that’s wormed its way beneath your skin starts to dissipate, every pass of his hand soothing it away. You sigh contentedly, your lips pressing to his jaw as he caresses you. “What did you do?”

A few moments pass before you speak. Your strength seems to be returning, your weight lifting onto one elbow, planted beside his head. Your eyes have that shine to them still, that streak of silver he’s never seen before, and you lean in close, your mouth brushing against his before you offer an answer.

“I took your pain.”

Your voice cracks as you say it, and Pero’s brow pinches. His hands have stopped at your waist, your skin warmed to match his own, and he squeezes you slightly. “Have you done that before?”

Slowly, you shake your head. “I’ve healed before, but never…” Your gaze drops. “I couldn’t bear it, seeing you in pain like that.”

Something in his chest splinters. He growls as he moves, turning you onto your back slowly, planting his hands either side of you and hovering above your warmed body. “Never again, amor,” he tells you, brow creasing, and you reach up, smoothing your thumb over the line in his forehead. “You understand me? I can take the pain. Whatever this world throws at me, I have learned to endure it. I can endure it. Pain is bearable. Meaningless.”

“Pero, I—”

He leans down, silencing you with a kiss. “But losing you, that is not.” The words are spoken against your lips, and you let out a little noise, a whimper that reaches his ears and zips straight down his spine. “I cannot lose you. I will not.”

“Nor I you,” you reply, breathing the words back into him. There’s a slight chill in the very tips of your fingers as you twine them into his hair, but the rest of you is fully warm again, knees parting to make space for him between your hips. He seeks out where you’re the warmest, the heat that envelops every part of him when you let him inside. 

Pero kisses you soft, then harder. Rougher. He pours his frustration and love and awe out into his kisses, pushing only just hard enough, pricking at your edges until you’re keening and begging for more. As he drags his mouth down the centre of your chest, he pauses, listening for your heartbeat.

It still races, rioting in your ribs like an untamed bird, but for a different reason entirely.

He settles himself between your legs, mouth finding all the right places, all the places he’s come to know as well as his own body, and your voice is light, airy and dripping with pleasure.

“Love.”

+

The snow starts to melt, and Pero comes to you with a request.

“I need to send a letter.”

It’s not an odd request by any means, but when you probe him further, finding that he wants to write to his friend, William — the man who had kept him alive on the Wall as they fought the Tao Tei, had released him from prison when he was captured afterwards; you’ve heard the stories many times now — there’s one issue.

“I do not know where he is now,” Pero admits, frustration evident in his face. You’re inside the cottage, him pacing the kitchen floor while you tend to dinner, a pot of soup bubbling away over the fire. Soot has found himself on the large table that takes up the middle of the kitchen, perched in the middle, little mediator that he is, ears twitching as he listens to you two talk. “But I must write to him, let him know I’m alive and well. I owe him my life, after all.” He comes to stand beside you, puts a heavy hand on your hip, leans in to kiss your temple. “Our life.”

You crack a smile, turning your face and catching his lips on yours. “You have much to thank him for then,” you reply, lifting a hand and stroking his cheek with your knuckle. “We both do.” You jut your chin towards the sitting room. “There’s parchment, and a quill and ink. Once you’re done, Soot will take it.”

Pero’s eyes slide to the animal perched on the table, one brow lifting. “The cat?” he asks. “How will he know where to—?”

You silence him with another kiss. “Write your letter, Pero Tovar, and trust your witch’s magic, yes?”

He scoffs a little laugh, but then a flush creeps up his face, cheeks and ears turning bright red, and his gaze drops to his now folded hands. “There is one other problem, amor.”

“Yes?” you inquire, returning to the soup over the fire.

“I cannot write.” His voice is so low you barely hear him, and when you turn, the look on his face makes your heart ache. He’s staring down at his face, refusing to look at you as you draw closer. “I have been a warrior all my life. I was never…I don’t…I cannot…” He breathes out a heavy sigh, broad chest deflating, and you reach for his wrist, curling your fingers around. “What are you…?”

Wordlessly, you pull him from the kitchen and into the sitting room, snapping candles to life as you reach the small desk in the sitting room. You pull a piece of parchment from the stack there, flip open the jar of ink and reach for a quill. “Tell me what you want to say,” you say, keeping your voice purposefully even.

He stares at you for a long moment, searching your face. For judgment, you think, but you keep your eyes stuck to his, the corner of your mouth lifted, the hand not holding the quill resting on his knee, rubbing your thumb back and forth. Whatever he’s looking for, whatever opinion he’s thinking you must have, he doesn’t find it, and after a moment, his lips quirk the same as yours, and he starts to talk.

William,

I hope this letter finds you alive and well. I am both, and I have you to thank for it. Until my last day, I will owe you my life. 

After we parted, I carried on down the path, followed whatever fire had been ignited in my chest by the witch’s words. And, my friend, I must tell you, I found exactly what I had been searching for. I found a woman so unimaginable, so beautiful and wondrous, and I believe what the witch told me that day. Her soul calls to mine, and my own sings a new song in return. A song of love.

I write to you because I must thank you, my friend. Without you, I would have rotted away in that cell, or would have died upon that Wall many moons earlier. But I did not, because of you. Because of your kindness. I know I was not an easy companion at times, and I would have deserved a much worse fate, but you did not allow it. And if you had, I would not have what I have now.

So, I thank you, William. Should you ever need an old warrior’s swords, mine are forever at the ready for you.

Be well, my friend.

Pero Tovar

Before you sign his name, you slip the quill into his fingers, adjusting them until he’s holding it properly. Slowly, you guide his hand to make the letters. It’s a little shaky, the curve on the P a little wider than you’d write it, but all the same.

“There,” you say once it’s complete, standing from your seat to find a cloth to wipe the quill off. Pero stares down at the parchment, his brow creased once more. “What is it, love?”

“Would you teach me?” he asks, blinking at the letter once before his face turns back to yours “To write and…” He pauses, swallowing hard, throat bobbing. “To read.”

You step back towards him, abandoning the quill. You slip your arms around his neck, settling onto his thick thigh, feeling his muscle tense beneath you. “Of course I will.”

“There’s no spell, is there?” he asks, pushing his face into your collar, lashes fluttering against your neck. “To spare me the embarrassment.”

You laugh softly, kissing whatever part of his head you can reach. “There are some things that can only be taught, love.”

+

The snow has nearly melted completely when Soot returns.

Just when Pero thinks you can surprise him no further, you always seem to, and the letter was no exception. Once the ink had dried, you’d rolled up the parchment, fetching a small piece of ribbon to tie it with, dripping candle wax on the seal and pressing one of your rings into the liquid until it hardened. Then you’d returned to the kitchen, pulling Pero along with you.

The cat still sat perched on the large table, and chirped curiously at you when you approached. “We need a favour, sweet thing,” you cooed, setting the rolled parchment on the table and reaching out to pet Soot’s head. He purred happily, leaning up into your touch, licking at your fingers and nipping at your palm when you scratched under his chin. “Pero, open the window,” you requested, and he lifted a brow, but crossed the kitchen and did as you asked.

You leaned down and whispered in the cat’s ear, and there was a flash of bright light. When it faded, Soot was gone, and in his place sat a regal black falcon, wings twitching and talons scratching at the tabletop. The bird nuzzled into your touch as you fastened the parchment to it’s leg, then climbed onto your arm when you offered it. Pero just watched, awestruck, as you carried the bird toward the now-opened window. As soon as the wind beckoned, rustling your hair as it moved into the cottage, the bird took off, disappearing through the window and into the sky beyond.

And now, winter giving way nearly completely to spring, the bird returns. You’re outside, tending to the slowly blooming apple trees, while Pero is chopping firewood. With a loud squawk, Soot lands on the fence that surrounds the cottage grounds. And there’s a new roll of parchment tied to his leg, this one bearing a different coloured seal.

Pero takes the parchment from the bird, and as soon as you’re within reach, Soot leaps at you. There’s a flash, and he lands in your arms in cat-form once again, purring like mad as you cradle him close and shower him with affection. “Good boy.”

The wax seal cracks under Pero’s fingers as he unravels the parchment. He can feel you watching him, waiting to see if he’ll turn the words towards you, but he doesn’t. You’ve been constant with your lessons, he an eager student. You’d have him reading all hours of the day if you could — to help build his confidence, you claim — but while it takes him a moment to sort out William’s bent scrawl, the words are familiar.

“What does it say?” you ask, rocking Soot in your arms, still scratching at his chin. “Is he well?”

Pero just stares down at the words for a moment, trying to sort through the thoughts that have gone wild in his mind. “He…” He trails off, contemplates handing the parchment to you, then thinks better of it. “He’s close. In the mountains, two week’s ride from here. He’s asked me to go help him. There are other mercenaries in the north, he says, but he needs someone he trusts.”

He doesn’t look up at you until he’s done talking, the edge of the parchment nearly crumpling in his grip. When he finally does, his breath catches in his throat. You’re just staring, your hands buried in Soot’s fur, and your eyes are like pools of glass, tears lining your lashes, threatening to drop.

“I have to go, amor. I owe him my life. It’s as I told him: my swords are his.”

You nearly drop the cat, spinning on your heel and sprinting back to the cottage. Pero calls your name, but you ignore him, the door slamming shut behind you. The parchment crumples into a ball in his fist, and he heaves a sigh, following the path you made back to the cottage. He half-expects the door to be locked, keeping him out, but it swings open with ease.

As he steps inside, he hears the bedroom door slam loudly, and a moment later, Soot appears in front of him, his fluffy head cocked to the side, those strange amber eyes — eyes that had been in the skull of a falcon only moments earlier — peering up at him.

He does not want to go. He does not want to leave you. In fact, as soon as his eyes read the words, as soon as he realized what his friend was asking, it was as though his chest wanted to cave in, the ache already palpable, the thought of leaving you making his whole body revolt in protest.

He does not want to leave, but he must. Pero Tovar owes a debt. He spoke the truth in his letter; if it were not for William’s kindness, he would not have the life he has now. He would not have you.

So, go he must.

Pero waits, hopes that you’ll walk back out with something akin to a smile on your face, though he knows it’s doubtful. He sinks onto the settee in the sitting room, elbows leaned on his knees, face in his hands. He’s at war with himself, the battle raging in his mind. He cannot betray you; he cannot betray William.

He cannot betray himself.

He waits until the sun disappears beyond the horizon and the cottage sinks into darkness. He lights candles and builds a fire, busies himself with one of the many books stacked on your desk, if only to distract his mind from what’s happened, what’s to come. Soot finds a perch along the back of the settee, his long tail curled over Pero’s shoulder, his quiet purrs rumbling in his ear.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the bedroom door opens.

He hears your soft steps before he sees you, the book flipping closed in his hands as he sets it aside. The moment you set foot in the sitting room, your entire body is bathed in firelight. The clothes you’d worn earlier in the day have been discarded, replaced with a simple white shift that turns nearly transparent as you move, the orange glow that fills the space covering your body.

Pero calls your name, but you make no show of answer, your gaze bright as it had been that day in the woods, when you’d taken his pain. Soot meows in your direction, but you seem to ignore him as well, sinking to your knees on the plush carpet right in front of Pero. There’s a…glow about you, something emanating from deep within, and he swallows hard as you plant warm palms on his knees, curling your fingers inward and pulling his legs apart.

“Mi amor,” he starts, but you shake your head, your mouth a hard line as you put yourself between his thighs. You tilt your face towards him, and his breath hitches when he sees the tear tracks on your cheeks, your red-rimmed eyes and wet lashes. “Please.”

You still say nothing but reach up to your neck, pulling a leather cord that’s strung around your throat. He sees a flash of silver as you lift it over your head and loop it over his, and when he looks down, there’s a heavy ring strung on the cord, the metal etched with runes and symbols he doesn’t know the meaning of, but has seen scrawled in the margins of your books, marked into the walls of the very cottage he’s come to call home.

“Come back to me,” you speak finally, your hands settling either side of his face. “Swear to me, you’ll do what you must, and you’ll come back to me.”

His chest is tight at the tone in your voice, the way it cracks on the words, the way you’re nearly sobbing by the time they’re all out. Your face is so close, your lips so inviting, and he pushes his nose along yours, tipping forward until his forehead is against your own.

“I swear it, amor.”

You move then, gathering the hem of your shift as you rise up, planting one knee either side of him and settling down into his lap. Soot scampers away and Pero blows out a breath. The air has grown thick between you, something magical and ethereal settling over both your bodies. He reaches for you, curling his hands around your waist, sighing into your mouth when you lean down and kiss him.

It’s slow. It’s slower than any coupling you’ve had since you first laid eyes on each other. It burns low and syrupy, as gentle as the warmth of the fire that permeates the room. Pero skims heavy palms up your thighs, sneaking beneath the fabric that covers you. He groans when he finds your body bare underneath, his head falling into your sternum as you start to move against him, tangling one hand in his hair, the other digging into his shoulder.

Any other night, and he’d splay you out on the floor before the fire, drink the nectar that lies between your legs straight from the source, keep himself there until you see stars, until he’s so ravenous he can barely contain himself, before plunging into the depths of your body like a man possessed. Any other night, and he’d grip your hips and flip you over, have you on all fours sprawled on the rug with his hips slamming into your ass, spanking you hard until there’s mark shaped like his hand on your cheek, until you’re begging for him, leaning up on your knees until your back is against his chest, breathing heavily and desperate for more.

But tonight is not any other night.

He watches your face as you move, gripping your hips and letting his thumbs ride the curve of them. You kiss him hard, then soft, then hard again, nipping at his lip and pulling soft groans from his mouth. When your hips start to roll down into his, he tips his head back, baring his throat, and you don’t hesitate to duck your face against it, teeth closing around his pulse, sure to leave a mark.

He’s hard as a rock beneath you, cock straining against the laces of his pants, and he can feel you growing hotter, feel the heat growing all over you, concentrated more and more with every roll of your hips. “I need to feel you, mi amor,” he groans out. “Please.”

“Yes, yes,” you mumble, lifting enough to give yourself access to his pants, yanking at the leather laces holding them closed. He’s shocked you don’t tear right through the thick fabric, the desperation in your features and movements only making him want you more. “Yes.” You groan the word when you finally have him free of his confines, wasting no time, pumping his hard cock twice in your soft palm, leaning up on your knees and sinking down onto him. It steals the breath from his lungs, your name groaned off his lips as you kiss his face, lining the ridge of his scar with your affection. 

You chase each other’s pleasure like that for hours. He sneaks a hand between you to rub at your nerves, drawing tight circles that make you gasp into his mouth. You go impossibly tight around him, bearing down on his cock, making stars burst behind his eyelids until he spills himself deep inside you. He tries to pull himself away, but you won’t let him, keeping him buried deep within you, forcing his eyes on yours, watching his face as he cums. It seems endless, the pleasure, roiling through your bodies like tidal waves on a beach, crashing over and over until both of you can scarcely breathe.

The sun is starting to break over the horizon by the time he carries you to the bedroom, holds you close and pulls the blankets over you both. Later, he’ll fill his pack, take his swords to Tomas in the village to have them sharpened, make sure his horse is suited for the journey. He’ll chart his path to his friend, slide into the saddle, and make his way, and every step he takes away from you, he knows his heart will feel heavier than the last.

That will all happen later. Now, he just needs to hold you.

+

You hadn’t expected it to be this hard, living without him.

You curse yourself, at first — you survived without him for so long, surely you can take a few weeks alone in your own home? But it seems impossible, right from the first night. The bed is too empty, the cottage too quiet. Soot seems to notice, more sullen than you’ve ever seen him, taking to lounging on Pero’s side of your bed, his meows and chirps much quieter than before. Even your horse is lonely, spending more of her days hiding in the shade than roaming the pasture.

A shadow casts itself over your life, and you know there’s only one thing that will remove it.

You’re tempted to send letters, to send Soot to find him in the mountains, but you know what he’ll say. Once the realization settled in that he was actually leaving, you tried to bargain, tried to prove yourself useful, that your magic could keep both him and William alive in their quest.

“You will be a distraction more than a help, amor,” Pero had answered, kissing your forehead and brushing past you as he gathered his things for the journey. “You are safer here, in our home.”

Our home.

The problem is, no matter how much magical potential is etched into the walls, now without the other half of you, it doesn’t feel like home, not by a long shot.

You spend more time in the village, finding yourself half asleep at the smithy’s kitchen table more often than not, Lena keeping your cup of wine filled and distracting you with stories. Their children are a blessing, both of them much more comfortable with you now, their faces excited when you arrive for dinner, both of them laughing with glee when you appear with pie for dessert. Lena tells you to stay whenever you like, often keeping you talking long into the night until it’s too dark for you to walk home by yourself, inviting you to spend the night in their spare bed. Even Soot is invited to stay, often spending his nights curled up with the children.

The trouble with wine, and the amount you find yourself drinking with Lena, is that it makes you hazy. Your mind heavy, you magic erratic, and your tongue loose. But, it’s an escape from your sadness, even just for a little while.

“Do you think he’ll come back to me, Lena?”

The woman barks a laugh, sipping her own cup, biting into one of the apples you’ve brought. “Whatever do you mean, sweet thing?”

“Pero,” you grumble, resting your arms on the tabletop, leaning forward and resting your head atop him. “I worry, day in and day out. Worry he’s dead, worry he’s alive and warming the bed of another woman.”

Lena reaches across the table and smacks you in the head. Hard.

“Ouch!”

“If you every say such a thing like that again, I’ll hit you harder,” she says, pointing a finger at you, a hard expression on her face. “That man loves you like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” She leans back in her chair, her face going wistful. “Where I come from, we have a name for that, you know. Love like yours.” She turns her head towards the back of the house, where Tomas had disappeared to bed hours ago. “Love like mine.”

She’s quiet for a moment, so you probe: “What do they call it?”

“Twin souls,” she answers, a happy smile on her face. “You carry a piece of him, and he you. You know each other better than anyone else, and when you finally meet, it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.”

You balk at her, remembering the feeling you had that first night with Pero Tovar, that beast in your chest that had been sated by his touch, that had retreated into the shadows of your heart while he was by your side, but now rose to the surface, angry and pacing like a hungry animal.

“He will come back to you,” Lena says, biting into the apple again. “I know it, and you know it, too.”

It seems as though the village starts to realize Pero is no longer with you. A few of the kinder faces in the village ask after him, nodding silently when you admit he’s gone to help a friend. To the more unkind ones, it makes you a bigger target.

Farrell uses it to his advantage. He’s worse than every before, cornering you on a daily basis, his shadow following you around the village, to the point where you can’t even bring your apples or pastries to the square anymore, not without him appearing out of nowhere, blocking your path and hurling insults.

“Why are you still here, bitch?”

“That man of yours, he finally figured out what you are, didn’t he? Left you to rot on your own.”

“You don’t belong here, witch.”

It’s endless. Darker, louder, sinking into the marrow of your bones and leaving you full of fear. It gets to the point where Lena and Tomas refuse to leave you alone in the village, keeping you in their home overnight not merely out of kindness, but necessity.

But you need to go home. After nearly a week straight spent with them, you wait for the perfect night. You wait until you see Farrell make his way into the tavern, peek through the window until you’re sure he’s drank enough to keep him at bay, and head quickly down the road that leads to the cottage, Soot at your heels. You don’t think you’ve ever walked the the path so quick, your steps nearly a run, your breaths heaving as you come round the bend and the cottage comes into view.

And you nearly fall to your knees.

The windows are broken, glass shattered everywhere you look. The door hangs on it’s hinges, bowed inward, marks that only could have been made by an axe marring the wood. Your heart climbs into your throat, and you fear for what awaits you inside. Soot lets out a mournful meow, but follows you dutifully towards your home.

Inside, it’s just as bad — no, worse. Every room is ransacked, furniture upended, your books scattered on the floors, pages torn and ripped to shreds. Your plates and cups shattered to pieces, candles broken and wax smeared on the floors. In the bedroom, it’s more of the same — your clothes ripped and strewn across the floor, Pero’s scattered amongst them. The bed is flipped on its side, blankets burned in some places, torn in others.

Everything you own, broken. Destroyed. Ripped to shreds.

“I thought I might find you here, witch,” a horribly familiar voice calls, pulling you out of your shock and sending you reeling in a new way. “Do you like what I’ve done with the place? I think it looks much better this way, don’t you?”

Farrell stands in the doorway, a drunk grin on his face, a large axe in his hand, leaned on his shoulder. Anger swells inside, and you go to surge forward, magic brewing in your gut, but—

—you can’t move.

The awful man gives you a dark grin that makes your blood boil. “You think you’re so clever, bitch, but I’ve outsmarted you this time. Done some research of my own, figured out how to stop you.” He juts his chin towards you, towards the floor.

You look down and see markings carved into the wooden planks. A perfect circle, runes you recognize, some you don’t, but as a whole, it’s all too familiar. You’ve seen it in your books, seen it used before to keep rogue witches from harming themselves, harming other people.

A holding circle.

“Fuck,” you grit out, hands curling into fists as your sides. “Let me go, Farrell.”

“Let you go?” he repeats, his tone nearly taunting. “Just like that? Oh no, I’ve got other things in mind for you, witch.” His eyes glitter in the dark, and Soot hisses loudly, the fur on his back standing up as Farrell steps closer. You flick your hand at the cat, pointing in the direction of the broken window.

“Go,” you hiss at the cat, and he blinks at you once before scurrying away, leaping through the window and into the night.

You look back, and Farrell is right in front of you. Another blink, and his hand flashes out, slapping you hard, hard enough that your teeth rattle in your skull and your head snaps to the side, cheek instantly singing with pain.

“Not so easy to heal yourself inside this, is it?” he quips, the sickening grin returning. He gets closer to you, and you want to retaliate, want to hit him, punch him, anything, but you can barely move. It’s the point of the circle, to weaken you. And he just keeps talking. “It’s a pity, really, that that man of yours isn’t here to watch me. But I’ll enjoy the show all the same, don’t you worry.”

“You don’t want to do this,” you tell him, gritting your teeth as the pain flares in your face. “He’ll come for you.”

Another slap is delivered, this one to your other cheek, and your head is ringing. And another sickening grin.

“I’d like to see him try.”

+

The battle ends with blood.

Pero is not surprised. He knew it would end this way. His swords in his hands, armour on his back, comrades by his side. Until he found you, he knew that was his lot, what he was destined for. Once he had you, he wondered if it would turn out different, if he’d live a long life by your side, if you’d grow old and grey together. Did witches age the same as mortal men? He’s still not sure, but he wondered.

But, it appears his lot as remained the same. Death by steel, what feels like a million miles away from you, his soul screaming at him to turn back, to go home.

William is the first to fall. He does not go willingly, which does not shock Pero by any stretch. Multiple knife wounds, an arrow through his knee, another through his side, but it’s the third through his chest that is the final blow. Pero can only watch as his friend falls to his knees, as blood pours from William’s mouth, as he says his final words before falling completely.

“I am sorry, my friend.”

Pero roars with rage, swings both swords wildly, striking down as many of the assailants as he can. More bodies fall, blood sprays, but he misses the smaller man lurking in the shadows. Misses him completely until he feels the blade buried in his gut, his entire body screaming with pain as he falls. He can feel the life pouring from his wounds, staining his clothes and armour and the ground beneath him.

Flat on his back, Pero Tovar stares up at the sky, his swords held loosely in his grip, and waits to die.

The assailants must think him a lost cause as any, because they leave off after taking the treasure William had been hunting. He hears them mutter in a tongue foreign from any Pero knows, sees their shadows lurk over him before they disappear completely.

He lies there, until the sun falls and the moon takes it’s place. He waits for the darkness to come, for his life to slip away like dust in the wind, waits to see what comes after this, what awaits a marred soul such as his.

The dark never comes. His eyes slip shut after a time, but not in death, only sleep. And when he wakes, he wakes, and find his body made whole. His wounds are closed, his breath strong, and for a moment, he scrambles, looking around, waiting to find you crouched beside him, your eyes bright with magic, ready to curse you for taking his pain again. But then he feels the aches in his bones, the simmered pain where the wounds had been, and he realizes, you’re not here.

You’re not, but the ring you had given him before he departed is. He feels it sitting heavy against his collar, the metal not warmed by his skin, but cool, as your hands had been when you healed him.

A bit of your magic, even here. Keeping him alive, keeping him whole. Helping him come back to you. Helping him stay true to what he swore. He can still hear your voice in his head.

“Come back to me.”

And he will. He must.

—————

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[thetownwecallhome]

OOC: My biggest regrets regarding this webcomic. And, what's to come.

(( bad grammar intended.

In case you're worried I'm being badged by bad reviews and/or "focusing too much on the bad"--- no. These are self-criticisms I've always had about this comic. It's always a joy to see you guys like it so much and there are some comics I love more than others and return to reread just for myself; but I think it's fine to have a healthy self-critical lens about your work sometimes. Just as long as you don't go 2000s-era Lucas and try retconning everything. So without further ado:

>Dislike the earliest gag where Jack complains about being 'fat'.

>Keeping art consistent and low-effort so it wouldn't take so much work.

>Introducing the Holiday leaders like I did. So underwhelming.

>"Mothball" [*sideshow bob grumble of pain*]

>While we're on it that earlier depiction of Clown being a jerk to Sally and Sally needing to be pepped-up by Jack to feel good about herself. Like 'Mothball' is needs a serious rewriting of dialogue to make it bearable ((to me)).

>"Packing Up" for reasons that should be painfully obvious later when I finish making Halloween Town comics. (it goes against current continuity in my headcanon)

>Really I regret how I wrote Sally and Jack a lot throughout the years. You can tell I was battling different takes about the characters and rationalizing them. I made Sally way too demur and Fluttershy-ish when she's not that kind of shrinking violet meanwhile Jack's either too kind and mature or too wrapped in guilt. For Sally I think I was operating on the logic that og-Carolyn-Thompson-script-softspoken-Sally > better then how she is in the movie because someone in my life was trying to convince me Sally was underdeveloped, and with Jack it's being hit w people saying he's an absolute incel or got away with everything in the film* and my coping by giving him more obvious guilt. Though, in fairness, Oogies Revenge, Kingdom Hearts and the fanbase didn't help that disparity by claiming Jack's just a cinnamon roll. Half of the reason "Ask Jack Skellington" prompts ever existed is so I could have an excuse to make Jack the spooky-doofy manchild of terror he is. I neglected that part of him for so long and he and Sally would be so upset with me. I failed you my babies.

>I think the joke of Jack being way too naive about how violent the other holidays actually are and/or oblivious to what adults use Halloween for is overdone in my work. I've done that gag like four times now I think.

>Unnecessarily hating on Lock, Shock, and Barrel for no reason. I think it shows just how much I didn't care for the characters before Zero's Journey came out.

>The Beetlejuice ask/reply comic from like 2015 or 16 whatever is not canon.

>Jack and Sally were too smexual in my earlier gags. Good god I REALLY hadn't figured out my asexuality, or theirs, for that matter.

>Like Jack suffering more +being too riddled by guilt, I think I made Oogie way too OP in my Oogie's Revenge (the prequel story to the entire comic) outline.

>This is a problem I have with all of my work but I hate the walls of text and run-ons all the characters do. It takes me out of my own fanfiction when it's just so obvious when I'm talking vs when the characters are. "Sally and the Doctor suffers from this a LOT".

>So many decisions made regarding plotpoints and plotlines that I think I muddled along the way or did way too quickly as it's obvious I don't have an exact outline for any of this fan stuff I'm throwing out. I really wanted to emphasize Harley and Mayor's blooming romance more than I did. They deserved so much better.

>AUGHTHEAWFULSELF-EDITED TEXT I DID IN 2015-2016 WAS TORTURE WHY DID I EVER THINK THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA???!

---

All of this is to say, one day, if Oddities or my patreon makes enough dough and my SSI sitch isn't so fragile or fluctuating- I really wanna hire a beta editor/artist to be my extra pair of hands in sprucing this comic up and making it more articulate, readable and complete for my liking. And yes, it HAS to be a hired job. I can't promise big bucks but I refuse to hand that kind of responsibility to someone without compensation. This comic's too big.

As far as what to expect from the comic after this year, here's all I can tell you for my endgame plan:

I plan to go until 2027, when this blog will be 13 years old.

I want to make next year special as it'll be 31 years of Nightmare Before Christmas then.

You're gonna get a new character soon. Don't worry; they won't distract from the og cast too much. In fact they literally go to jail.

More of Halloween Town in the human world to come.

More Wolfman and Vampire brothers shenanigans.

Jack and Sally past tyme.

One of these final years Ima do something really special with the other holiday worlds and leaders. You'll see.

None of the characters will double die but I will be basically ripping off a spongebob episode.

No one from Halloween Town is ever going to meet anyone from New Holland. You are going to get a Beetlejuice character, but not a full blown crossover.

))

[player-1]

If anyone wants some move references for the Abyssals (cause I'm going to use them in the future for my fic and it's not like the wiki or Nexopedia is going to include it anytime soon), here you go! I put the lists in dark mode so they're easier to read, but I want to also put in my two cents on their potential battle style below (and any moves present in the main story or excluded from main moveset is marked with a +):

Venefelis: While being the "ringleader" in this whole mess, Venefelis sure knows how to throw down some pain in a pretty reckless manner; obviously after going through a crisis about why the Abyssals even exist if all they're meant to do is kick the bucket however they want to (and with Kroma failing...again). And yes, even if she kept using Psy Ray every chance she gets in the gauntlet battle, it made a bit of sense why she used the Ghost ultimate too (though Phantom Abyss is moreso speculative since every single time before she can use all four moves, she gets knocked out :'). Besides, she lived in super-undead limbo for a millennia so she must've tapped into that spooky power one way or another...Also fits the Schrodinger's Cat allegory all the way for me (fic-wise I mean, but that's going to come eventually 🙃).

Rotramus: A good chunk of his moves inflict status effects that could easily slow down anyone chasing after him (ie. The Guild); and even if he doesn't use it battle-wise, I like that his only healing move is Natural Heal that connects to his dex entry with just sleeping deep in the woods whenever he wants. Still, I'll try some other time on how similar his moves are to Nara if he's all about vibing with everything but betraying his mission/the other Abyssals.

Pluvean: First off, for someone so desperate to be killed, why in the world was he so tanky!? Nevermind being the first Abyssal you typically fight, those scales must've been a pain to get through before...-Anyway! Besides being really trigger happy with Tsunami in his battle, his moveset does connect to his desire not to fight and instead inflict status effects and/or absorbing or reflecting anything that comes his way (still ironic if his whole mission was to die). Other than that, I like the little touch of him also using Solar Charge despite being in a ice cave since it possibly connects to Palmaya (or even using Sonic Scream to get someone's attention and receive the axe too).

Inominox: So many Wind moves, so many...Which is an given since he's a petty vulture, and a good amount of his moves connect to slowing his enemy down w. ailments, ignoring defense and speed to make them more easier pickings while also making himself more agile and evasive against any stronger foes; also having a good chunk of Freeze status wind attacks since I hc that he made the Frozen Tundra his previous hunting grounds. The one thing I was confused about was him using Double Slash, but I guess it was a tiny filler move (or just to imply his wings are sharp enough to cut through earth/stone too).

Helevolk: He is angy all the time and it shows on both ends, which is fair for a giant blind lizard that does nothing but dig wherever he wants. But one thing I noticed while going through the roster was Helevolk knowing Conflagration (the Nexomon equivalent of Explosion/Self Destruct) which gives me the very interesting thought on if he used it when he was finally cornered by the Guild or Laterian hunters...If Nexomon 3 has the chance to finally explain his backstory or when he was killed, I'm all for it.

Caelesa: Ah yes, Caelesa "everything but the kitchen sink" Nexomon. For being a mystical deer that was literally born to run away from danger, I find it extra funny that your first (and only) battle with her has her throwing out purely offensive attacks at you that aren't even in her main moveset; especially when Rocknite Blast replaces Rock Wall and Thunder Blast replaces Dark Flow (increases enemy stamina use). Still, isn't it strange that the Normal-type Abyssal that knows nothing of her creator has almost all the hallmarks of using multiple elements like Metta? Other than that, I headcanon that she uses the crystals around her rings for her elemental moves, so I'm all for her creating a bullet hell or just making that giant patch of land in the game into a rodeo ring :).

Volcel: Volcel has a similar move scheme as Rotramus with status moves and Inominox's accuracy and evasion, but I was interested to see that all his main Electric moves that mostly use Puzzled instead of Paralysis for obvious reasons (especially when his story moveset uses Thunder Blast for paralysis and Blooming Spores for poison...Maybe his scales are poisonous in some way?). Besides also avoiding conflict and a Guild member mentioning offhand that Volcel actually vanishes from their radar for months at a time before they caught him (most likely exploring/resting on Precursor Mountain), his aversion to humans as a whole does make sense in not understanding their culture as a whole (since he sees a giant pot of soup/Tyrant bait as poison).

Braccus: It's already a given that Braccus is a walking bulldozer move-wise, though I was also surprised that he uses two ultimate moves like Venefelis (Solar Flare and Meteor Shower respectively), though the former could relate to his location in the depths of a molten-hot cave system (though the reason why that wasn't where Helevolk was or just switched the gimmick to that other cave is beyond me). Still, he also has a good amount of physical moves (which he has clear jock vibes to me) and even using Pummel in his story moves, though I doubt he's that fast since he's the slowest of the Abyssals in Speed but pure size and strength will do the talking for him.

Kroma: And finally, here's to the youngest Abyssal and the necromancer supreme of Immortal Citadel, with her moveset being pretty keen on the ghastly vibes of her powers to control ghosts and possible mind-control techniques (Haunting, Arcane Curse, Snake Eyes, Sleep Song, and such). With her story moves, I was honestly surprised that she doesn't naturally know Dark Mist (since she possibly uses it to kidnap Eliza to finally finish her goal); though EMP and Psy Field also fit the psychic/ghost theme too for obvious reasons. And even if it sucks that we don't get any additional info on Kroma's impact of the Citadel, I was pretty interesting on why she has Constrict in her main moveset (since it's a chance kill if the target is 15 levels lower)...Does she just use her ghost powers for it or what?

[kariachi]

Okay pern fic with one of my rp pairs, Sjeyn and Taso.

Little blue menace, that one, you have to love him.

~~

It had taken two weeks from the Hatching for Sjeyn to figure out that if Tasogareth was quiet, she should go find out what exactly he was up to.

Some may argue that this should have been apparent from the start, when his third act of life was to playfully try to steal his brother’s food, but she would counter that these people had experienced moments of rest that duty and dragon had denied her at the time.

As it was, she had developed the habit of, whenever she could take her mind from whatever work she was doing, reaching out to press against his mind. If he was loud and talking of siblings, whers, and play, then all was good and she could go back to work. If he was quiet and talking naps, practicing things from their lessons, or listening to stories from the older dragons, he was up to something.

She’d been told once it was unkind to assume Taso never practiced their lessons, but that wasn’t the issue. That big, beautiful, blue brain went a dragonlength every heartbeat and he was always happy to throw it at something. The problem was that he figured these things out quickly and was in no way scared to twist them into a new game. She loved Taso with all her heart, but his games tended to be trouble, and he had enough mutations going on that more trouble was the last thing they needed.

It was with this thought in mind that she stepped back from vegetables she’d finished chopping and headed out of the kitchens with a simple “Taso” that everyone understood. As soon as she hit sunshine Sjeyn scanned the Bowl for him, continuing to press against his mind while he grumbled and insisting he was napping in a lie that would’ve convinced anyone who wasn’t his rider. Small though he was- the smallest non-dwarf blue hatched in Benden in recent memory and among the smallest hatched since the days of Lessa- he was distinct enough in color and mannerisms to be easily recognized even at a distant glance. His lack of presence was readily apparent.

Which meant he was in the Caverns. The smaller weyrlings from the clutch could still get down there, and he would likely be able to the rest of his life. Heaving a sigh, Sjeyn pressed a quick hope for information into the nearest where that wasn’t sleeping, waiting patiently for her answer of which path he’d last been seen heading for. It wasn’t one used often, dug out back during the Second Interval for extra storage anymore used for old Threadfighting gear and memorabilia that was drug out for weyrling lessons and nothing else. Some of their Weyrbred clutchmates had said they were haunted, with entire spooky stories about the gruesome deaths in the depths, but Sjeyn had never taken it much seriously and didn’t intend to change that. But they were definitely the kind of stories to form ideas in Taso’s head.

Certainly, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d run off to investigate some scary story, though he’d been just a baby the first time.

It was only when she was far deep into the tunnels, enough to wonder if maybe he’d changed course at some point, still not getting a truthful answer out him, that she figured things out. When she started hearing sounds coming from up ahead, garbled, echoing voices that she could have sworn she would be able to understand if she only went a little further, a little further, a little-

“Taso,” she called out, unable to keep him from feeling her confusion and, she would admit, pride over their bond, “do you have any limits?” She could feel him preen back, smiling despite her best efforts to stay stern as the spotlight of his eyes opened in the distance.

I can’t do words, he admitted, but I can get pretty close. Snickering, Sjeyn shook her head.

“It wasn’t bad enough you mimicking everything else in the Weyr,” she said, picking up her pace to close the distance between them, “you have to bring the humans into it too.” His eyes swirled in bright blues and purples as he stuck his head out of the little alcove he’d cozied up in, pressing it against her torso as she scratched lovingly at his crest.

Well, I would hate for you all to feel left out…

[sublimecatgalaxy]

✨Art Posts✨

Below you will find the updated Art posts that I will post every Wednesday. I will provide links of my weekly favorites and give the creator or the OP, along with a comment. This is the second out of two of them since I had to many in the original post.

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Wednesday, October 5th:

Halloween Kitty: I love this gif of this cat mostly because I love Halloween more than anything because it's my birthday! So I just wanted to share this kitty with every posted by @winslowat3am.

Companion: This is a really wholesome piece made by the lovely @mjulmjul who is so extremely talented. I just really like the Halloween vibes and the spooky vibes!

Creepy Yet Beautiful: This piece by @loish hit home since I actually live near a really big factory that sort of looks like this at night. Though it's terrible for the environment, it is really haunting and creepy looking.

Wednesday, October 19th:

Happy Meowlloween: I love that Halloween, aka my birthday, is coming up so I figured I'd throw this one in here since I also am obsessed with cats. This was created by the lovely and talented @zandramims!

Sanctuary: This piece by @8pxl offers me an unbelievable amount of comfort, like just looking out over the city- I'd love to live up on a hill where I can see this.

Frogs and Mushrooms: I love frogs and I'm obsessed with mushrooms so here's this piece by @lemon-illustrations. I love fall and everything to do with fall, except the mold on the leaves that I'm allergic to lol.

Wednesday, October 26th:

Cat Witch Party: You guys know the drill, Halloween is my birthday and I love cats so it would be silly of me to not post this digital art piece by @libbyframe.

Lantern Plants: This is just so cute. So wholesome. Nothing more to say. Created by the wholesome and wonderful @maruti-bitamin.

Wednesday, November 2nd:

In The Grass: There's something just so pretty and soothing about this piece of art created by @wormbus-art. It's just really pretty and I spent like an hour just going through their page.

Cozy Season: You guys know me cozy vibes, books and cats. This piece literally spoke to me lol. And the creator, @yuumei-art, is just so lovely and all of their work is so beautiful.

Wednesday, December 7th:

Waves: This is just so aesthetically pleasing and I just love the soft colors. This was posted by @thecollectibles, go check out their account, it's awesome!

Fairy Houses: This is just remarkable and looks like something straight out of a fantasy novel. I just love the choices in detail and I think it's just beautiful. Posted and created by the wonderful @gulistan-blog.

Wednesday, January 18th:

Cat Cow: I just think this is possibly the cutest thing I've ever seen. As you all know, I'm a big cat (and dog) person but I also adore cows with my whole heart. When I was a kid I used to scream 'friends!' out the window whenever I saw them in a field. Thank you for this post, @camilicy.

Extra Round: All I'm gonna say; look at how fat they are. Thank you @asmeesh for this post, it truly made my whole day so much better, it's so friggin cute.

Wednesday, January 25th:

Moo Moo: I love cows more than anything else in this whole world. If you go back through both of my art posts, you'll see how many art works with cows I have. I love it and I love @rosefinchie for creating this work of art!!

Ellie: So I've loved the Last of Us for years and now, in honor of the new amazing show, I thought I'd use my platform to show off some of @zoemar-son work! This is wonderful, I love Ellie with my whole heart.

Wednesday, February 8th:

Larkspur and Lilies: This beautiful piece was done by @libbyframe and I just think it's beautiful. They're an amazing artist, go give their stuff a look!

Pixie Cup Lichen: GUYS!!! You know me and my microbiological loving ass, I love mushrooms, I love fungi, I'm making a whole career out of loving microbiology so I had to share this with you guys, it was created by @fairydropart.

Wednesday, February 15th:

Froggie: I just thought this piece done by @titsay is so wholesome and cute and I LOVE frogs.

Hearts Day: This other piece done by the wonderful @titsay is so wholesome, especially because I have a kitty who looks just like this!

Wednesday, February 22nd:

On A Date: THIS IS SO CUTE NO WORDS I HAVE NO WORDS. This was created by the wholesome @spicymochi who's whole blog is just awesome.

Bouquet: This looks like the flowers that my love gave me for Valentines day so I thought it would be nice to add to this. This was made by the lovely @libbyframe, go give them a look!

[dailyretrogames]

MONSTERS WORLD (ARCADE) As holidays go, Halloween is definitely the one most likely to throw up a cheap, unauthorized copy of something that already exists. You might want to do your trick-or-treating dressed as Freddy Krueger, but the official costumes are expensive and that "Knife-Hand Killer" set looks almost as good. Do you want to drink from a plastic cup adorned with a poorly-painted picture of a skeleton king who is definitely not the same as the one from The Nightmare Before Christmas®? October is the time to do it. It's a season when wonky, ugly things that aren't quite right are forgiven, because that's what Halloween is all about. Anyway, all this is my very roundabout and tenuous way of telling you that today's game might not be 100% official. It's TCH's 1994 arcade harpoon-em-up Monsters World!

The title may say "Monsters World" but that picture tells me that it should really be called "Skydiving Ghost." You've probably also noticed that this title screen looks, without wanting to sound too cruel, a bit shit. You know what else was released in 1994? Darkstalkers, and while it's perhaps unfair to compare TCH to the mighty Capcom you'd have thought they could at least have chosen a colour palette less reminiscent of a low-rent fast-food establishment. Before I get into Monsters World, a brief explanatory detour. Do you remember the Pang series of games, also known as Buster Bros.?

Developed by Mitchell (who also created arcade punch-em-up Funky Jet) and published by Capcom, the Pang games thrust the player into the relentless white-knuckle adventure that is popping bubbles. The gameplay is simple - a bubble bounces around the screen, and you have to pop it by firing your harpoon directly upwards. Pop a bubble and it splits into two smaller bubbles that continue to bounce around the screen, pop those bubbles and they split into two more bubbles and so on until the bubbles reach their smallest size and you can destroy them entirely. Remove all trace of the bubbles within the time limit to clear the stage and oh, don't let a bubble touch you because you will die.

It makes you wonder if you should really be bursting those bubbles, given that skin contact with them is instantly fatal, but I'm sure that the Buster Brothers have everything under control. They wouldn't have given that child a pneumatic spear-gun if he didn't know exactly what what he doing. So that's Pang / Buster Bros., and any article about Monsters World requires a brief balloon-popping history lesson because this game is such a thorough rip-off of Pang that even Oasis would think it's a bit much on the plagiarism front.

As you can see above, Monsters World does attempt to put its own stamp on the Pang template, and that stamp is a great big Halloween-y thing carved from pumpkin flesh and draped in bat guts that brands the word "SPOOKY" deep into anything it touches. The bubbles have been replaced by the monsters of the title, in this case starting off small with spherical jack o' lanterns and the scorpions that pop out of them.

The graphics are different but the gameplay is identical to the Pang games, or at least I think it is because Monsters World has a few extra complications that I don't recall seeing in Mitchell's originals. There's a jump button, for one thing, and another button that lets you dash to the side much faster than your usual waddling speed in order to avoid falling monsters or, as was more common while I was playing, to dash into them and kill yourself. I don't remember either of those being in any of the Pang games I've played, so if TCH added them specifically for Monsters World then fair play to them, but I'm hardly an authority on bubble-bursting arcade franchises. Monsters World's kleptomaniacal tendencies aren't limited to the gameplay, either. I'm sure you've noticed that the background of the first stage is a giant rotting hand. It's difficult to miss, what with it being huge and mouldering and all that. Well, I spent enough of my youth gawping at the covers of horror movies to immediately recognise that hand, because it sure as hell wasn't made specifically for this game.

full article

[thedoctordanko]

Hillary and I have been reflecting on our wedding a lot. From the initial planning phase, to the trialing phase, to the execution, and the post-production stuff. We still have a few loose ends to tie up, but we think we kind of nailed it. We just wish more folks could’ve been apart of the experience. But, while we wait for more of our wedding photos to come in and we work on all of our thank you cards/gifts, we plan on sharing bits here and there from the aftermath of one of the greatest events of our lives. So, I think we are just going to chill out this spooky season and get familiar with some of our awesome wedding gifts. Now, before I met Hillary I wasn’t a coffee drinker at all. But, since then she has introduced me to a whole wide world of delicious and wonderful foods and beverages. Of course, I’ve always loved good tasting stuff, but figured that kind of thing was always behind a paywall or too complicated to DIY. Instead, I would just consume the things that would sustain me and I’d maybe throw myself a treat here and there. Whenever we have a bit of extra scratch to play with we indulge ourselves in the things that make us happy. And it’s crazy what a simple cup of coffee can do for your wellbeing. Much like the books based on the food of the same name, coffee can be Chicken soup for the soul. It can warm your heart, make you feel good, and comfort you when you need it. And as you can clearly see, Hillary makes a very photogenic and incredibly tasty “Hug in a Mug” and for that I am grateful. She is pretty amazing at everything she does and I’m looking forward to continuously soothing each other’s souls for the rest of our lives. (at Bozeman, Montana) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkEHMl2JlRV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[andsheloved]

(fall)ing for you

pairing ~ bucky barnes x gn!reader

summary ~ spending a halloween date with bucky barnes!

word count ~ 1.4k

warnings ~ fluff! stereotypical halloween/fall celebration things, pre-established relationship, bucky being a dork, vague descriptions of a haunted house (a clown jumps out at some point but nothing too spooky, i just wanted to make sure i tag it just in case!), mention of (fake!) skulls and bones

a/n ~ so, i moved to a new area a while ago and there is an absolute disturbing lack of halloween things, coming from an area that celebrates halloween and general fall-exciting-times like crazy, i am talking EVERYONE has pumpkins out, corn mazes and haunted houses wherever you step, specialty drinks and foods for halloween and fall at all the local places, i very much find the lack of the fall/halloween spirit disturbing, SO i decided, why not do some fun headcanons about a lil halloween date to fill the pumpkin shaped hole in my heart! i hope you all enjoy this lil dash of fall fluffy goodness! mwauh!

It definitely is not his idea to go all out with celebrating Halloween, in fact, he can’t even really remember the last time he put out any type of decoration. Maybe before… everything, he might have seen his mom put a pumpkin or two out on his front porch in October, but he never actually did anything for Halloween. So when you brought up going to a fall festival, he was a bit, confused, to say the least.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

I mean, how could he ever say no to you when you smiled at him like that.

Though he can’t quite wrap his head around what ‘it’ is.

But you two set a date for it anyway, even though he kind of has absolutely no clue what he’s getting himself into, and that fact alone makes him a bit nervous, being honest with himself, he’s pretty sure he would follow you anywhere, regardless of whether he knew where he was going or not.

When he picks you up for your little fall soiree, he doesn’t bring flowers, oh no, he decides to go with the theme.

Bucky shows up at your front door with a tiny bouquet of the most vivid, colorful bunch of fall foliage you have ever seen. All wrapped together tightly with some twine that you can tell must have taken him ages to tie together.

“Happy Fall, Doll”

He looks up at you from the bouquet with the biggest, almost annoyingly proud grin on his face, holding out the (can he even call it a bouquet? It’s just leaves? Okay well he’s going to call it a bouquet) bouquet to you.

It’s the type of smile a child gives their teacher when they’re presenting a science project.

But gosh, what you wouldn’t give to just have him stay just right there while you grab your camera to take a photo of him.

When you finally get to the festival, the sun is just beginning to set, and the sky looks like something out of a postcard. It is absolutely perfect fall weather, if not a bit chilly, but you learn you don’t actually mind the cold all that much when Bucky throws his jacket around you.

And he really doesn’t mind the way you look in it. He figures that even if he were freezing to death, he would still let you wear it.

You couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit silly wearing it. You can tell it was modified a bit to fit, well, you know, a highly trained super-soldier and former assassin, but you can’t really bring yourself to care when you’re surrounded by the warmth of him, and the tangible reminder that he’s yours, just as much as you’re his.

Pumpkin picking! He couldn’t lie, he did think it was a little stupid at first, “Why would I go try to find a pumpkin, covered in dirt, when I can go into any craft store and find a perfect, plastic one of my own there?” But about three minutes into your search, you notice he is now fully inspecting each pumpkin you point at.

He is picking each one up, testing the weight of each one, holding them and handling them with the utmost care, brushing off any extra bit of mud or hay, fully scanning every inch of it for any moldy spots or bruises. He is very, very serious about it now.

“What about this one?!” You point at what you believe to be the most faultless Pumpkin you have ever seen, even when you pick it up, you think it looks absolutely perfect.

Bucky thinks otherwise.

“Look at it! It’s all lopsided! And it’s all green and black on the bottom!” You gasp a little when he takes it from you, tossing it lightly up into the air. “See! Baby, it’s not even weighted properly! You don’t want it rolling around your front porch every time some wind rolls by.” He hands the pumpkin back to you, only to grab another one from the ground, holding it barely an inch from your face for you to see. “Now this one, this one is perfect. I mean look at it!”

You can’t deny that his is absolutely the most perfect pumpkin you have ever seen, like something out of a Homes and Gardens magazine. Not a single brown spot or any speck of dirt, and as he throws it just as he did the last pumpkin, you notice the almost blinding glint in his eye as he sighs dreamily “It’s perfect.”

You didn’t know anyone could look at a pumpkin with so much love, and even though you did see a bit of bruising on the pumpkin yourself, maybe it was the fact that he loved it so much that made it so perfect.

Guess that makes you pretty perfect too.

“Well, I guess that’s the one!” You exclaim, and you can’t help but smile at the excited gasp that escapes his lips. You almost tumble into the dirt with the force at which he kisses you.

Maybe you should take him to pumpkin patches more often.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” he repeats, making sure to place gentle kisses all along your cheeks and on the tip of your nose.

When it gets a bit darker, and a bit ~spookier~, you notice he tenses up just a little.

“Hey, are you doing alright? You know we don’t have to go through the haunted hou-”

“Are you crazy! We are doing the haunted house, I’m sure it’s not even really that scary anyway…:

You look at him for a bit longer after he responds, making sure that he’s not just saying that to say it.

But he smiles at you and squeezes your hand like he can read your mind.

So you two set off towards the haunted house.

The facade is a little cheesy; a massive cutout made from flimsy wood panels, secured to what looks to be a massive tent, shaped to look like an eerie castle, with a faint strobe light flashing up at it. For a moment you think to yourself how Bucky is probably right ‘I’m sure it’s not even really that scary anyway…’ But as soon as you step inside, you realize you couldn’t be more wrong.

You glare up at Bucky as he holds you securely in front of him, “Doll, how am I supposed to protect you if you’re behind me” He winks, and you grumble something to yourself about ‘stupidmanhandlingsupersoilders’

But as a man in a clown mask jumps out at the two of you, forcing you to press further against Bucky’s chest, you’re suddenly very thankful for your personal man handling super-soldier.

You couldn’t really say you paid any attention to the rest of the house, focusing on looking straight ahead and straight ahead only as you placed your hands over Bucky's around your waist. His low chuckle brought you just the slightest bit of comfort every time an actor popped out from a window or hidden door.

“You’re okay Doll, look! They’re not even real!”

You slowly gathered the courage to look around you, turning your head to see some very obviously plastic skulls and bones surrounding you in the fake graveyard.

You could almost roll your eyes at yourself, this is what you were afraid of? Some styrofoam bones? You found yourself giggling at the thought

“See? I told you it wasn’t that bad” He added, squeezing his arms around you a little tighter.

The two of you walked through the rest of the house like that, laughing at the almost hilariously unrealistic props, pointing out where you thought someone would be jumping out at you, it almost became a game.

“What did I say! I told you it wasn’t gonna be that scary!”

You wished you could wipe the wicked smirk from his face, “I was terrified!”

“You had fun!”

“Yeah, but I was terrified!”

“Weren’t you the one asking me if I even wanted to go through it?”

If you weren’t so exhausted from attempting to contain yourself from bolting through the house as fast as you could, you would’ve kissed that stupid knowing smile off his lips.

Well, maybe you weren’t that tired.

When you two finally got back to your apartment, Bucky suddenly stopped in front of your doorstep.

“Is everything oka-”

In an instant, he was running back to the car with a speed you don’t ever think you have seen him sprint at before.

You squinted to see what he was digging for

But then he ducked his head out of the back seat, holding triumphantly, the pumpkin.

“Almost forgot,” he said, returning to place it ever so gently beside your front door, “Perfect” he sighed.

“Yeah” You replied, leaning your head against his shoulder as you turned to look up at him, “Just perfect."

thank you so so much for reading! i really do appreciate it! want more bucky? check out my masterlist ! i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it! bucky + autumn is just, mm, so good! my heart is warm! anyways, i hope you are all doing so very well! mwauh! and happy fall (and halloween if you celebrate) to you all! i hope it is filled with all the happiness and warmth you could ever ask for!

[tigerkirby215]

5e Vex, the Gloomiest build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Horace “Hozure” Hsu. Made for Riot Games.)

Writing this build in a dark room late at night, super tired and stuff... Stuck inside cause of this dumb virus... AFKing in TFT for a Prestige skin like a tryhard... It’s kinda aesthetic, ya know?

GOALS

Another person to kill... Shadow? Can you handle it? - You don’t need best friends: you’ve got your Shadow. He’s the only cool one, because he’s basically you.

Ugh. Can we get some rain clouds in here? - No one likes a debbie downer, but everyone loves a good scare!

Man, walking suuuucks - Nowadays even the anti-dash champion needs a resetting dash. “Do the thing, Shadow.”

RACE

I could make Vex a Harengon to justify her rabbit ears, but she doesn’t really do much “jumping.” That, and I didn’t buy Wild Beyond the Witchlight. So Halfling still works good enough for a yordle. Your Dexterity increases by 2, and while your movement speed goes down to 25 you have Halfling Nimbleness to move through people who are bigger than you. You’re also “Brave” for advantage against fears (when you hang around the Shadow Isles stuff really isn’t that scary) and of course have good ol’ yordle Lucky to reroll Nat 1s.

Halflings are normally pretty cheerful but Ghostwise Halflings are perfectly dark. You’d normally increase your Wisdom by 1 but I’d recommend increasing your Constitution instead. But I mean, it’s not a big deal if you take Wisdom instead. It is only +1. You also get Silent Speech to keep to team chat with 30 foot telepathy. I mean, they have to understand your languages but at least you don’t have to tell everyone what you’re talking about. And oh yeah you obviously speak Common and Halfling.

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - Turns out when you don’t release any new yordles for (wait it’s been 5 years since Kled was released? Holy shit) people end up wanting them.

14; DEXTERITY - Just because you don’t like walking doesn’t mean you’re slow.

13; CONSTITUTION - Imagine dying like a normie.

12; WISDOM - Vex isn’t sad because she’s pessimistic. She’s just realistic.

10; INTELLIGENCE - You’re too cool for school. (And I needed everything else more.)

8; STRENGTH - Ughhh I don’t wanna lift heavy stuff! I’m tired...

BACKGROUND

I guess you’re technically a Haunted One, even if the black mist is the best thing that ever happened to you. You get proficiency in Arcana and Survival as well as two language of your choice to talk to your "allies.” (I guess one of them has to be exotic or whatever.) (I’d personally pick Sylvan as the language of yordles and whatever language the majority of your party knows as your second choice, but that’s just me.)

The thing that sucks about having a Heart of Darkness is that everyone keeps trying to help you, thinking that your sadness (and the living shadow on your back) is something to be fixed. I mean, at least you can get the NPC normies to help you, as long as you don’t spook ‘em. “No doctors! I told you: being sad makes me happy.”

(Artwork by @ToggleD0wnFall on Twitter.)

THE BUILD

or whatever...

LEVEL 1 - SORCERER 1

Starting as a Sorcerer for saving throws and stuff. Also proficiency in Intimidation and... Persuasion, I guess? Look, persuading people that you’re fine “no really” is a skill too.

I wonder what Sorcerous Origin we’ll pick... If only there was one based entirely on shadows and darkness... Oh hey Shadow Magic. As a Shadow Sorcerer you get Eyes of the Dark for 120 feet of Darkvision to see with your dumb Halfling eyes, and Strength of the Grave which will let Shadow take a hit for you. (As long as you make a good Charisma save.)

But of course the main appeal of a Sorcerer is the Spellcasting. You can learn 4 cantrips from the Sorcerer list and two level spells: For cantrips Mage Hand will let Shadow pick things up for you, Mind Sliver and Sword Burst will keep loud people off you both up close and from afar, and Prestidigitation will let you do all sorts of normie yordle magic. As for leveled spells Shield and Mage Armor are both kinda mandatory for some Personal Space.

LEVEL 2 - WARLOCK 1

What? Did you really think we wouldn’t get at least some support from adults? Work for that cool gloomy dude Viego and make a pack with The Undead. That’s because Undead are super dark and morbid and have a Form of Dread: as a bonus action you can turn on your Doom and Gloom for 1 minute. You get some temporary hit points, fear people when you hit them, and are immune to fears yourself. You can transform a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

You also get Pact Magic, which is different from normie Spellcasting because you get the cool stuff done with just a Short Rest. Anyways you can learn two cantrips from the Warlock list like Minor Illusion to have Shadow trick some normies and Eldritch Blast to Eldritch while you Blast. You can also grab some first level Warlock spells like Hex to mark people you don’t like, and Arms of Hadar if you really need your Personal Space.

LEVEL 3 - WARLOCK 2

Second level Warlocks get their Eldritch Invocations for extra stuff that you don’t have to put effort into. While Armor of Shadows does exist it’s honestly better for you to cast Mage Armor with a spell slot, so with that being said take Agonizing Blast to agonize while you blast and Eldritch Mind so you can keep your concentration around annoying people.

You can also learn another spell like Hellish Rebuke, because people just keep barging into your Personal Space!

LEVEL 4 - SORCERER 2

Now that you can agonize your blasts it’s time to go back to Sorcerer. Second level Sorcerers get a Font of Magic for Sorcery Points which currently don’t do much other than give you more spell slots. You can turn your Warlock slots into Sorcery points though, which is good because they come back on a Short Rest but the rest of your magic does not.

You can also cast another spell like Earth Tremor, to slow people down with Looming Darkness and sunder the land with your edginess.

LEVEL 5 - SORCERER 3

Third level Sorcerers finally get Metamagic! Empowered Spell will allow you to maximize your damage and retain your role as an artillery mage. Alternatively if you want to guarantee fears in your foes take Heightened Spell to give them disadvantage to resist Shadow’s influence.

If you want Shadow to stick around then Dust Devil will swirl around for quite awhile. Alternatively Shadow (Magic) also teaches you Darkness for free, and you can cast it with 2 Sorcery Points to see through it! Your friends can’t see through it, but you can team up with Shadow for some powerful combos when you can see them but they can’t see you!

(Artwork by @jpdiasarts on Twitter.)

LEVEL 6 - SORCERER 4

4th level Sorcerers get the first of many Ability Score Improvements, but I can’t take Fey Touched every time for Flash. That, and we won’t give into basic yordle society. So let’s get value out of our Halfling race with the Second Chance feat. Along with +1 to your Charisma you can also use your reaction to make an enemy you can see attacking you reroll their attack roll, potentially making them miss.

Don’t use this against an attack that you can Shield against, but if someone gets a really good roll you can use this to get your Personal Space back! You can only use this once per combat though (it comes back when you roll for initiative!) so make sure to use it when it matters to keep your spell slots in check.

Oh and you can also learn another spell, and another cantrip! For your cantrip Shocking Grasp will help you push people away if they get too close (folk tend to react poorly when zapped by a tazer!) As for leveled spells Web will keep foes from dashing around, and is also pretty flammable. Huhn; wonder if that’ll be useful.

LEVEL 7 - SORCERER 5

5th level Sorcerers get gifts from the Ruined Queen Tasha in the form of Magical Guidance. You can use a Sorcery point to reroll a d20 if needed, potentially squeezing a success out. Don’t use this all the time (even if Warlock slots means you’ll have plenty of Sorcery points to spare) but this can be very useful in an emergency!

You can also learn third level spells and hey: Fireball may be a normie spell, but it’s still pretty effective. It’s maybe a bit too flashy to be Looming Darkness but it’s a good source of AoE damage which isn’t as loud and annoying as Shatter.

LEVEL 8 - SORCERER 6

All this time being a Shadow Sorcerer and Shadow hasn’t even done anything for us! Well how about you go out there and get some work done, Shadow? For 3 Sorcery points you can summon a Hound of Ill Omen to target a foe within 120 feet of you.

Shadow is basically a Dire Wolf except he’s Medium, has temp HP equal to half your Sorcerer level, can move through stuff (but takes damage if he ends his turn in stuff), and automatically chases whoever you told him to go for. Shadow will appear 30 feet away from the person you told him to get, and will chase after him like I said. All he’ll really do is attack the target you told him to though; he won’t even opportunity attack unless it’s the person you told him to chase. But if Shadow’s near someone they have disadvantage on their saving throws, which is pretty cool. (Unfortunately it’s only against spells, not your Form of Dread.)

Speaking of saving throws: Slow is a really great way to keep normies from running around doing annoying stuff. And you don’t have to hit Shadow with it which is pretty cool.

(Artwork by @Lauriquess on Twitter.)

LEVEL 9 - WARLOCK 3

Third level Warlocks get to choose their Pact Boon: if you want a really small Shadow go for Pact of the Chain, and if you want your cool necklace go for Pact of the Talisman, but we’ll be going for Pact of the Tome because you’re mostly a spellcaster really. (And we definitely don’t have enough cantrips.)

You get a Book of Shadows (See? Books can be cool!) with three cantrips: take Thaumaturgy to be extra spooky, Vicious Mockery for some sick teenage burns, and Sapping Sting to make normies fall over when you fear them. Some might say that 10 total cantrips by level 9 is a bit overkill but look on the dark side: you’ve now got a cantrip for basically every type of saving throw in case you can’t hit with Eldritch Blast!

Honestly none of the Pact Boons are particularly important for Vex so I picked the one that made the most sense. Feel free to take something more practical since 10 cantrips is admittedly overkill.

Oh and you can learn more Warlock spells, so now it’s time to finally take Misty Step. For Flash!

LEVEL 10 - WARLOCK 4

4th level Warlocks get another Ability Score Improvement: getting more Charisma for better spellcasting is probably a good idea.

You can also learn another spell, and hey look another cantrip. For your cantrip even if more damage options are kinda overkill by this point Chill Touch inflicts Grievous Wounds, which might be useful. You can also grab another second level spell and Blindness / Deafness (which is on the Undead list) is far more useful than any of the other normie options you’d have at this level anyways.

LEVEL 11 - WARLOCK 5

5th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation, and even if you’ve got a resetting dash you’re still a squishy mage. So grab Tomb of Levistus for Zhonya's Hourglass.

You can also grab third level Warlock spells now! Remember how I took Fireball and complained that it wasn’t a good replica of Looming Darkness? Well Hunger of Hadar takes your Concentration but it’s a lot edgier!

LEVEL 12 - WARLOCK 6

6th level Undead Warlocks have become Grave Touched by the mist, and can make mist of their own! Along with being able survive without eating, drinking, or breathing you can turn any of your damage into necrotic damage. If you’re in your Form of Dread however you can add one extra damage die to whatever you’re using to get people to buzz off, adding to that morbid and macabre aesthetic.

You can also add another spell and if you’re bored with Shadow being a wolf how about you make them a Summon Shadowspawn? Weaponize your Fury, Despair, or Fear (I’d honestly recommend Fury since it has good synergy with your Dreadful Aspect) and work together with Shadow to deal with all your annoying foes! I’d also suggest replacing Hellish Rebuke with Counterspell, because even if the former fits better the latter is way more useful.

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuestling. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - WARLOCK 7

7th level Warlocks can finally activate Shadow Surge. Relentless Hex lets you mark a foe with Hex and then dash to them. And technically you can move Hex around after the fact to reset your dashes! And while you’re at it you may as well grab Dimension Door for Summoner Teleport.

You could also upgrade Summon Shadowspawn to Summon Aberration if you so desire, but Summon Shadowspawn is more than strong enough and far more fun and thematic.

LEVEL 14 - WARLOCK 8

Another Ability Score Improvement. Yay. Cap off your Charisma for the best spellcasting you can get out of Shadow. You can also learn another spell, but we’re going to wait for...

LEVEL 15 - WARLOCK 9

9th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation: even if it’s kinda ineffective Ascendant Step is still pretty useful to have Shadow carry you around. I mean yeah it’s slow but not that much slower than walking for you, and Shadow can lift you up in the air. “Shadow; carry me...”

You can also learn 5th level spells. If one guy’s being particularly annoying Negative Energy Flood can get them to shut up and work for you. Alternatively if you want more Personal Space Antilife Shell is on the Undead List and will make sure normies keep faaaaar away.

LEVEL 16 - WARLOCK 10

Are you ever so sick of everything that you just want to explode? Necrotic Husk has two benefits: for one you’re resistant to Necrotic damage, and immune while in your Form of Dread because being around Viego for so long means you’re used to his work.

But additionally when you are reduced to 0 hit points you can use your reaction to drop to 1 hit point instead and cause your body to explode! Each creature of your choice within 30 feet of you takes 2d10 + your warlock level in Necrotic damage. You do gain 1 level of exhaustion after using this, and after using it once you can’t do so again until you finish 1d4 long rests. So I’d perhaps use Strength of the Grave first unless you really need to lash out.

I hope you weren’t expecting more spells because you aren’t getting them from Warlock: just a cantrip. By this point we’ve honestly got far too many cantrips so I dunno maybe just grab Prestidigitation again and swap it out from Sorcerer when you get the chance.

(Artwork by @DukkoArt on Twitter.)

LEVEL 17 - SORCERER 7

Finally back to our yordle roots: 7th level Sorcerers get 4th level spells like Storm Sphere for a sphere of darkness and angst. But I mean the real benefit is that you get more Sorcery points let’s be real.

Oh and you can swap out Prestidigitation for Gust I guess. Spooky winds and stuff. Either this level or next level depending on your DM.

LEVEL 18 - SORCERER 8

Your last Ability Score Improvement... You’re gonna have to ask: what’s more important to me? More Metamagic, or more Eldritch Invocations? If Metamagic is to your liking take Metamagic Adept for Careful Spell and Distant Spell along with two more Sorcery points to use on them. If you like Eldritch Invocations though Eldritch Adept has a ton of options as a level 10 Warlock. I won’t tell you what invocation to take (they’re all great boosts but none of them shout out at me as something you should prioritize) as there are plenty of options to make your own Vex now that they’re all grown up.

I can at least tell you what spell to take: none of them! Wait until next level!

Oh and you can swap out Prestidigitation for Gust I guess.

LEVEL 19 - SORCERER 9

9th level Sorcerers can learn 5th level spells which means you’ve finally caught up to your Warlock slots. And look at that: the good wish Tasha gave you one last way to weaponize Shadow. Bigby’s Hand does a bunch of cool stuff and is pretty much the ultimate way to make Shadow crush some normies. (Most literally.) Alternatively if you want to borrow from Viego Enervation will let you heal from the mist and also do some damage. Great if you’re stuck in a corner with a bunch of annoying normies.

LEVEL 20 - SORCERER 10

Our final level is the 10th level of Sorcerer for one last spell, one last cantrip, and one last metamagic option! For your metamagic it’s honestly about time you take Quickened Spell to up your DPS. For your cantrip take Mold Earth to dig holes in the sand and brood. And as for your leveled spell? Honestly I just like Synaptic Static, and there isn’t much else I want anyways.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

We’re all doomed. But you’re more doomed - 5th level spells pack more than enough punch, and you’ve got plenty of them. Warlock slots will always be at your fingertips, and Sorcery points give you plenty of flexibility too!

I can feel it: someone’s happy over there! - Along with giving you a temporary hitpoint shield Form of Dread puts a nice bit of CC on all your abilities. Keep enemies scared and sad with tons of Doom and Gloom!

Ugh. Stop copying me Shadow! - Hounds of Ill Omen are cool. Summon Shadowspawn is also cool. Bigby’s Hand is especially cool. And hey: even your lower level Concentration spells like Hex? They’re pretty cool too.

CONS

Ughhhhhhhhhh this is gonna take foreeeever! - You’ve got limited fumes, even for a coffeelock. Form of Dread has limited uses and there’s only so much spell slot melting you can do to get your magic back.

I’m dancing... Happy? - You’ve got a really boring set of really normie skills... and if you’re playing Vex the way she’s meant to be played you’re probably not going to use any of them except for Intimidation.

Yup; the glass is half empty - Half your levels are Sorcerer levels, meaning you’re squishy. You’ve also got Mage Armor on which guess what: also means you’re squishy. People who hit teenagers sure are lame but it’s really not hard to Power Word Kill you.

But I guess you’re pretty cool overall. Shadow’s an alright partner and you can spread Ruination even without Viego. Trudge around and get people to frown for once. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting the world to be sad. But do try to at least be happy out of character, because we play games to have fun. I mean, who’d play a video game that just makes you depressed and angry?

(Artwork by @AzzylumArt on Twitter.)

[izzyfandoms]

platonic dlampr having a meal together?

Everyone - Meal

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1 @yourneighborhooddisaster @alexxander-the-gay @full-of-roman-angst-trash @selfcarejanus

Masterpost

"Can someone please pass me the garlic bread?" Patton asked, speaking just loud enough that he could be heard over the noise that was the current conversation.

Remus immediately picked up the plate that held the garlic bread, and Patton began to give him a grateful smile. But then Remus raised the plate above his head, as if ready to throw it, and Patton winced in anticipation.

However, luckily, before the plate could be thrown, Roman reached across the table and snatched it right out of Remus's hand.

"No, you monster!" Roman protested, taking the dish out of Remus's reach. "You're going to get garlic bread everywhere."

Remus rolled his eyes, a look on his face that said he thought his brother was stupid.

"Uh, duh. If it goes everywhere, some of it will get to Pat, and therefore he will have his garlic bread."

Remus began to reach over the table, but before he could, an extra arm grew underneath one of Janus's, and he held out his hand between the twins. All eyes turned to Janus, as he looked at Remus with an unimpressed expression.

"As much as it pains me to say this, I think Roman is right in this instance," Janus said. "Do not throw the garlic bread, Remus."

Patton gave Janus a smile. "Thank you, Jan."

Janus gave him a single nod, before he pulled the arm back and it disappeared into his body. Patton then turned to Roman, smiling at him, too.

"Can I have the garlic bread, please, Roman?"

Roman smiled back at Patton, giving him a nod, before he turned to Logan, who was sat between them.

"Will you pass this to Pat, Logan?"

Logan nodded, taking the plate of garlic bread and passing it to Patton.

"Thanks, kiddos!" Patton said, taking a piece of garlic bread off of the plate and then placing the plate back down onto the table.

The six of them resumed eating for a few moments, the conversation resuming, but it was clear that something was wrong. Remus wouldn't stop fidgeting and interjecting with crude comments, which was normal enough, but he seemed more bored and agitated than usual.

Of course, as the self-appointed father figure of the sides, Patton could not just let that slide.

"Is everything alright, Remus?" Patton asked.

Remus let out an aggravated sigh, dropping his cutlery and tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. He leant back in his chair until it was on two legs - which perhaps would have been concerning, if the sides could accidentally injure themselves in this area of the mindscape.

"I'm bored," he complained. "This dinner is boring. Couldn't we, I dunno, get strippers or something? Or zombies that can smash our skulls into tiny little pieces while we feast on each other's brains?"

Patton's nose wrinkled at that suggestion, but before he could figure out a reasonable compromise, Janus spoke.

"Would you be less bored if I gave you a straw to eat your spaghetti with?"

Remus leant forward, the front two legs of his chair hitting the floor with a loud bang that made Virgil flinch and then glare at him, which went unnoticed.

"Hell yeah!" Remus cheered. "That sounds fun! I can pretend I'm eating wiggly worms!"

Janus waved his hand and a green straw appeared in his gloved palm. He reached across Virgil - who was sat between Janus and Remus - his arm stretching until he dropped the straw onto Remus's plate. Remus immediately picked it up, delight crossing his features.

But before Remus could begin to eat his spaghetti with a straw - a difficult task, in Patton's opinion, which Patton knew as he'd tried it before - an idea seemed to come to him. His face lit up.

"Ooh! Can I turn my spaghetti into actual worms?"

Virgil immediately let out a disgusted sound.

"Gross," he said, his nose wrinkling. "That sounds absolutely disgusting."

"Exactly!" Remus cheered, completely unoffended. "Do you want worms, too? I'm sure daddy'll say yes if you want it."

"I would literally rather die."

Logan cleared his throat. "There is no need for comments like that, Virgil," he said, before turning to Remus. "Remus, if you wish to eat worms instead of spaghetti, you may, just as long as you understand that nobody else wants to do that."

Remus pouted. "Fine," he whined. "If you guys are gonna be boring."

Virgil rolled his eyes, before his gaze met Patton's, and Patton shrugged. If Remus wanted to eat worms instead of spaghetti, that was his choice. Patton wasn't going to stop him, especially if it meant his whole family got to share a meal together.

Patton smiled to himself.

Not too long ago, a meal with all of the sides together would have been impossible, but now it was a reality. Gosh, he really did love his family so, so much.

[carloswilliamcarlos]

Whodunnit (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Warnings: Smut, PIV sex, infidelity/cheating, alcohol mention

A/N: IT’S TIME FOR CHARLIE PORN. Yes this is essentially just a remix of Lights Out. I have no original ideas but I am horny, take it or leave it. Also Sackler is there too this time.

Words: 2.2k

“It was a dark and stormy night,” the speech begins. And strangely enough, it was. 

As if cued by god herself, a crack of thunder tears through the sky. Lightning illuminates the room just for a moment, strobing everything inside in ghost-white light. The hostess, her hair done up in dramatic curls and lips lined in dark red. The guests in masks and top hats, expressions frozen for an instant. Shadows splash onto red brick, splattered against the walls in grotesque angles. You jump, holding on tighter to Sackler’s sweaty hand. Behind you, a low chuckle. 

You don’t need a flash of light to know whose breath is tickling your neck. 

Charlie. 

Of course he’d find it funny that you leapt into the air when thunder crashed. He always did love seeing you surprised. And he’s surely amused at your body curling closer to this child of a man who could do less to protect you than a puppy. His words, of course. At least, that’s what you imagine. 

You’d locked eyes as you circled up for the story just moments ago. Your pulse still hasn’t slowed. He was gorgeous, all in black from head to toe, with a blood red mask tied around his eyes. His hair was so long, so dark, he towered over you and looked like fear incarnate, so dangerous and so beautiful your skin flushed hot at just the sight and…

...and Sackler looked nice, too.

It’s a scene from a nightmare already, your boyfriend and the married man you fucked in a stairwell last week in the very same room. Locked in at a murder mystery party with your entire theater company. On a dark and rainy night. Until someone solves this goddamn mystery and you can run home and take out every ounce of wet frustration on the man whose hand you’re gripping so tight now your nails are leaving marks.

“Hey,” he whispers at you, shaking your grip off. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, slipping your fingers out through the gaps and wiping your palm on your vintage slip.

“Who murdered Madame Millicent? The answer sets you free. The clues are all around you… I suggest you look closely,” the hostess stage-whispers with a flourish. She takes her role very seriously. 

“I think we should split up,” you tell Sackler without as much as a glance his way. You’re acutely aware of how slowly Charlie’s moving behind you. 

“What?” Sackler pouts. “I don’t know any of these people.”

“You don’t have to know them, you just have to find clues,” you retort, words rushed. 

“But I came here to be with you.” Sackler’s hands snake around your waist and he bends down to your height as you cast a glance over your shoulder. “I wanna do bad things to you in the dark,” he mumbles against your skin. And it’s right at that moment you and Charlie lock eyes again. 

You push Sackler’s hands off you. It takes a few swats and shoves just to peel them away.

“You will,” you tell him, swiveling your head back around to look him in the eyes. “I promise, you will, just… Come find me. In a little while. Come find me in the dark and you can do whatever you want.”

You manage a little smile then, and Sackler seems more than titillated. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you take in the smell of him, all warm spice and cinnamon and just a little too much cologne. With a final squeeze of your waist, he steps away, walking backward into the darkness with a cheeky grin and tripping over the edge of the coffee table on the way.

Charlie’s nowhere to be seen. 

Everything’s hushed now, almost silent. Only the “Spooky Halloween Ambiance” playlist carries through the speakers and winds around the room. You might have been spooked if you hadn’t helped the hostess find it on Spotify earlier this morning. 

Pairs of figures move around in near darkness, looking for answers. There’s only candlelight now, and not much of it. You only hope these clues don’t involve much reading.

Another crack of lightning gets you moving, taking step by cautious step from room to room, looking for anything that will get you out. You pass the kitchen, stocked with cocktail glasses and extra swirls of orange peels. The bathroom, where a group of girls is deciphering a lipstick message on the mirror. 

And then there’s the library. 

You’re sure there must be something in here you need. 

You step into the room and lock the door behind you, not wanting to give away any solves you find. It’s so, so dark, you can hardly make out the edge of the wooden bookshelf as you graze it with your fingers. Slowly, you make your way along the shelf, skimming over book by book, looking for anything of interest. There are no sounds but your own shaky breath and your pulse rushing in your ears. And then you feel it. 

A large frame pressing up against your back, just close enough so you know it’s there. It’s warm, it’s solid, it seems to wrap all the way around you. And then a hand, ghosting over your hip, traveling inch by daring inch to rest in the center of your rib cage. 

“Adam?” you whisper. It’s Adam, you’re sure. It’s Adam, your boyfriend that you love. That’s what you tell yourself as his scent surrounds you. The scent of cool peppermint, and parchment, and the plastered walls of a certain familiar stairwell. 

He doesn’t answer. Not even a nod. But your fingers come to rest over his anyway, and your back pushes against his chest anyway, and you tilt your head so slightly to the side anyway, so he can bite your pretty earlobe just. like. that. 

You tug his hand up over your breast, squeeze his broad grip around it and sigh when his thumb grazes over your nipple, poking out through the shiny fabric of your slip. He swipes over it again, and then again, until it’s hard and straining and you’re rolling your hips back into his groin.

He kisses your neck, at first just a tingling tease, and then a hard, deep, suck that makes your whole body throb. His left hand reaches around to rest on the bookshelf in front of you. You can just make out the shadows of the veins that run down his long, thick fingers, over his wrist, and up under the fabric of his sleeve. 

Now it’s his turn to guide your right hand, still clutching your breast, down along your own side, over the sultry swell of your hip, behind your back and between your bodies. He leads your hand between his legs and along the thick, hard, hungry length the waits there, tenting the fabric of his trousers and twitching at your touch. His breath brushes your ear as you run your hand back and forth, teasing the tip and trailing all the way down the length. He lets out a breathy, shaky, drawn out “yes,” so quiet you can only hear it because his lips are pressed right up against your ear. 

It sounds… enough like Sackler, you tell yourself again, and even in the confines of your own mind, you know you’re a dirty fucking liar. 

The figure steps back just a bit then, pushing you forward so you’re bent at the waist and pressed up against the shelf. You hear a zip and feel the sudden chill of air on your ass as he flips your skirt up and over it. 

The velvety length of his cock slides between your legs and along your panties, giving your aching cunt just enough friction. It moves back and forth and back and forth again, and your hips are canting in time, rolling with it to wring out every drop of pleasure you can. His warm hand runs up the length of your back and down again, squeezing the curve of your ass and digging his fingertips into it. 

It’s just then you hear a fit of squeals erupt in the next room over, and both of you freeze. The girls must have solved the lipstick riddle. You may not have much more time. 

So you rock yourself back against him again, willing him not to stop, to keep going, to give you what you need, right fucking now. 

And he does. 

A nimble finger pulls your panties to the side and his tip is pressing into you, sliding between your wet, swollen lips and stretching open your tight entrance. You can’t help letting out a whine, you just can’t, and thank god his hand flies up to clamp over your mouth. If only you could do the same as he pushes into you, buries himself deep inside in one long, slow, thrust, because he’s grunting louder than he should be and he’s spitting out a pleasure-heavy “fuck” and that’s not Sackler, you know it now for sure, and you don’t fucking care. 

His hips pull back and push forward again, harder this time. Your knees shake and you rest your ass against his weight, letting the entire length slide way, way up inside you and back out again, in a rhythm that’s all at once frenzied, and fluid, and fucking filthy. 

You’re letting out little squeaks, little moany puffs of air every time he thrusts into you. You can hardly catch your breath, and the hand over your mouth isn’t making it any easier. His left hand against the bookshelf drops down around the front of you and between your legs, resting against your clit so it presses into it with every forward thrust. You’re surrounded by him, by the way he makes your body writhe, by the sound of his own breaths through gritted teeth. You fall back against him further and further, until he’s almost entirely supporting you, canting you upward will every jolt of his hips, and you start to come all the way undone.

In one move he throws you both forward so you’re pressed flat up against the shelf, your cheek resting on the cold, smooth wood and your breasts rubbing against volumes of Chaucer and Poe and Keats. He moves the hand on your clit in circles then, buries his face in your neck, and fucks you hard and fast and furious until you’re cumming all around his cock and it’s throbbing in gratitude, pumping his sticky white seed so far inside you, you swear you can taste it. 

And then he’s out. 

He’s out, and he’s pulling your panties back over your pussy to catch whatever threatens to spill out. There’s another zip, and your skirt falls back down, and the sweat dripping down your back suddenly feels so cold. 

Your breaths both slow down. And you don’t touch. And you don’t speak. And you’ve never been more grateful for the darkness that hides expressions neither of you want to see. 

You walk to the door and rest your fingertips on the handle. 

“Thank you, Adam,” you mutter, hating yourself as you do. It’s met only with a bitter scoff, and you open the door and slither out, your legs still shaking. 

Adam’s in the living room with a couple of guys who look to be taking shots out of a teacup. He gives you a big smile when he sees you and waves you over. 

“Where were you? I couldn’t find you,” he asks as he pulls you in by your hip. You turn your face sideways to dodge his kiss, which lands on your cheek. 

“Guess it’s just a mystery.”

Adam’s all goofy smiles when everyone reconvenes in the living room. It didn’t take him long to make new friends. The volume picks up in the gathering crowd and the hostess makes her way back to the front for her big finale. 

“A crime did happen on this night, but will you guess the culprit right? Let us see if you found the clues, tell us, who do you accuse?” 

She shines a flashlight into your eyes and you squint against the yellow light. “What?”

The hostess drops the act, just for a moment. “Who do you think did it?” she urges you, and it wasn’t until now you remembered why you were all even here. 

Through the light, you can see Charlie standing at the corner of the room, his gaze cast down to the floor. He looks up through his lashes at you, a pout painting his face. 

“It was you,” you say. 

The crowd shuffles a bit as they look back to him, and he reaches in his suit jacket to pull out a little red card printed with a single word: MURDERER. He flicks it to the floor and glares your way. 

“Guilty.”

Hands clap on your shoulders and Sackler shakes you happily. Everyone’s cheering. The party’s over. But you can’t hear a thing. 

Amid the bustling crowd you lose Charlie for a second, and like a ghost, he’s gone. 

The only proof he was ever there is the lingering smell of peppermint, and the creamy white sin dripping down your thigh.  

__________

Don’t mind me, just tagging some Charlie loving pals hiiiiiiii

@direnightshade @contesa-lui-alucard @babbushka @sacklerscumrag @ohdamnadam @cowboy-kylo​

[gwendonelle]

Sims 4 Holidays Legacy Challenge

Do you love holidays? 🎉 Then I have the perfect challenge for you!

This is a legacy challenge in the Sims 4 where you play with the same family for 10 generations, and each generation is themed after a different holiday. Some basic rules for this challenge are that you should play on normal lifespan and ideally not use money cheats (but hey, do what you want). You should also always try to have a successful holiday for the specific holiday of your current gen (i.e., if you are on gen 1, your Sim should have a successful Love Day each year), and I encourage going all-out for each gen’s holiday (e.g., by decorating extensively, throwing parties, etc.).

Before playing, you will need to add the following holidays to your in-game calendar:

Bunny Day (set for your day of choice in Spring)

Traditions: Baking, Egg Hunt, Flower Bunny (you may add others if you wish)

Summerfest (set for your day of choice in Summer)

Traditions: BBQ, Drinking, Fireworks (you may add others if you wish)

Spooky Day (set for any day before Harvestfest in Fall)

Traditions: Decorate (Spooky theme), Spooky Spirit (or Mischief Spirit), Trick or Treat, Wear Costumes (you may add another tradition if you wish)

You may also make the random holidays (e.g., Prank Day, Talk Like a Pirate Day, etc.) permanent holidays on your calendar if you wish.

I will be playing this challenge on YouTube if you’d like to follow along (you can find the link to my channel in my profile)! Feedback is welcome! Please use #sims4holidayschallenge if you decide to play the challenge so I can see your stories!

Enjoy, and happy holidays! ♥ -Gwen

Generation One: Love Day 💕

Love is in the air.

You’ve always loved love, even though you felt it was missing from your life as a child. Growing up, you had a bad relationship with your parents. In fact, you became emancipated as a teenager just to get away from them. From a young age, you fantasized about your future spouse and the perfect, happy family you would create together. You dreamed of having your very own meet-cute—preferably in a coffee shop, since you love coffee—like the stars in your favorite rom coms. As a young adult, you strive to live the onscreen fantasy of these stars by entering the world of acting and searching for your true love among your co-stars. You’re a bit possessive of the romantic partners you manage to woo, but it’s only to keep them from straying, to ensure nothing gets in the way of the future you have planned. The only problem is, you’re a bit indecisive. You’re looking for The One, after all. Everything has to be perfect. You don’t mean to play with people’s feelings, but you have to kiss a few frogs and break a few hearts to find your Prince (or Princess) Charming. Once you’ve found your soulmate (who might be a bit older than you expected—but age can’t get in the way of true love), you’ll do whatever it takes to keep them interested, including plying them with beautiful flower arrangements. You might even add a little something extra to them, just to make sure your happily-ever-after stays happy ‘til death do you part…or even beyond it.

Traits: Perfectionist/Romantic/Jealous

Aspiration: Serial Romantic, Soulmate

Career: Actor

Rules:

Start the challenge as a teenager living alone (you may either start with the base 20,000 simoleons, or, for an extra challenge, start with 0 simoleons after buying an empty lot with a tent) and work as a part-time barista while in high school

Max the acting and flower arranging skills

Reach level 10 of the actor career and complete the Serial Romantic (first) and Soulmate (second) aspirations

Have at least one of your co-stars become your boyfriend/girlfriend

Marry someone who is significantly older than you (e.g., if you are a young adult, your spouse must be an adult or elder)

Once you are married, gift your spouse with at least one flower arrangement every week (at least one of these must be scented with tulip, and at least one must be scented with orchid)

If your spouse dies before you, invite their ghost to move into your household and marry them again

Optional: Unlock the Coffee Fanatic Lifestyle

Generation Two: Prank Day 😈

It’s just a prank, bro.

Growing up, your parents were always super lovey-dovey. To be honest, it was kind of gross. From the time you were a teen, love and relationships never held much interest for you. Instead, you get your enjoyment from playing pranks on everyone around you. Some of them don’t appreciate your sense of humor, but you know you’re hilarious. At least your bros think you’re funny. They encourage you to share your pranks with the world by becoming a famous SimTuber. Your naysayers may call your pranks mean and hurtful, but your loyal fans will always support you. Whether you’re famous or infamous, your celebrity status remains intact. People know who you are, and that’s what matters. All publicity is good publicity, after all.

Traits: Goofball/Bro/Self-Absorbed

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief

Career: Social Media (Internet Personality)

Rules:

Max the mischief, comedy, and media production skills

Reach level 10 of the social media (Internet personality) career and complete the Chief of Mischief aspiration

Live in San Myshuno or Del Sol Valley from the time you are a young adult until you die

Become a Global Superstar (five-star celebrity)

Gain an atrocious reputation, purchase the FeudBringer perk with your fame points, and start a celebrity feud with someone

Throw at least one lampoon party

Never have a boyfriend or girlfriend and only have children with one-night-stands

Generation Three: Bunny Day 🐰

Hippity hoppity…

As a child, your parent constantly tried to involve you in their pranks, and more often than not, you were the victim. As a teenager, you did your best to avoid your parent as much as possible, spending your time baking in the kitchen or painting in your room. As soon as you were old enough, you moved as far away from your parent as possible—all the way to the countryside. There, you finally feel at peace, surrounded by nature and the local wildlife. You manage to juggle a career as a painter with running a small farm and baking cookies for your neighbors in your spare time. It’s a simple life, but you love it. Caring for the animals brings you joy, and the wild rabbits even show their appreciation by helping you tend your garden. Did I mention you’re obsessed with bunnies? They’re just so cute and fluffy! Some people might call you childish for your love of bunnies and all things bunny-related, but you couldn’t care less. You prefer the company of animals to people most of the time anyway, but you may make an exception for a special someone close to you.

Traits: Creative/Childish/Animal Enthusiast

Aspiration: Country Caretaker

Career: Painter

Rules:

Max the baking and painting skills

Reach level 10 of the painter career and complete the Country Caretaker aspiration

As a young adult, move to Henford-on-Bagley and live on a lot with the simple living lot challenge until you die

Become friends with at least three wild rabbits and grow a small vegetable garden for them

Become best friends with the Flower Bunny

Complete the decorative egg collection

Befriend and marry one of your neighbors

Generation Four: Talk Like A Pirate Day 🏴‍☠️

A pirate’s life for me.

You grew up on a farm in the country, living the simple life. Every day, you helped your parent take care of the animals and make meals from your family’s home-grown produce. BORING. This was never the life you wanted. Instead, you daydreamed about having grand adventures and seeking fantastic treasures—living the life of a pirate. As a young adult, you seek to make these dreams a reality by moving to Sulani and searching every inch of the island for the fortunes you know are hiding beneath the sand or the waves of the ocean. It may not be as easy as you thought (who knew maintaining a boat would take so much work?), but it’s worth it to be able to live your dream. You’ll do whatever it takes to become rich, even if it means robbing the locals of their precious historical artifacts…or, you could take the easy route and marry rich. Actually, why not both? Once you’ve acquired your desired wealth, you can retire early and spend your days fishing instead of plundering. Maybe you’ll even become a lifeguard in your spare time to help others and atone for the deviance of your youth.

Traits: Child of the Ocean/Adventurous/Materialistic

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Career: Diver/Lifeguard

Rules:

Max the handiness and fishing skills

Reach level 3 of the diver career and then quit to join the lifeguard career as an adult or elder

Complete the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration

Move to Sulani as a young adult and live on a pirate ship/houseboat (build one or find one in the gallery!) for the rest of your life

Complete the buried treasure collection

Marry a wealthy Sim (someone with at least 50,000 simoleons)

Generation Five: Summerfest 🎆

Baby, you’re a firework.

You had a strange childhood. You grew up on a boat with a pirate for a parent, after all. Your family life was never that important to you, though. You preferred to spend your time with your friends, playing games as a child and partying as a teenager. As a young adult, you achieve your dream of going to university—not for the education, but for the parties (including the secret ones). Whether or not you graduate is not super important to you. Who needs a degree to become the world’s best mixologist? Once you’ve partied your youth away, maybe you’ll settle down, have a family, and start throwing backyard barbecues for your friends instead of all-night ragers. It doesn’t sound too bad. As long as everyone gives you the credit you deserve as the Supreme Storyteller/Grill Master. Living the dream of the white picket fence and happy family can’t be too hard, right?

Traits: Outgoing/Dance Machine/Loves Outdoors

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Culinary (Mixologist)

Rules:

Max the dancing and mixology skills

Reach level 10 of the culinary (mixologist) career and complete the Party Animal aspiration

As a young adult, go to university and join the secret society (it is up to you whether or not you graduate, but you must remain at school for at least two terms)

Earn gold on a keg party

Purchase the Great Storyteller trait and the Stoves and Grills Master trait from the Rewards Store

Marry as an adult and have at least two children with your spouse

Generation Six: Neighborhood Brawl 💥

The first rule about fight club is you don't talk about fight club.

From a young age, you could tell your parents struggled to raise you. You always had too much energy as a kid and could never sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. As a teenager, you found it hard to control your emotions. There was so much anger inside you. You never knew where it came from, but you had to deal with it somehow. Sometimes exercising or playing the guitar helped, but mostly you ended up taking your anger out on others. It was always easy for you to make enemies, so as a young adult, you decide to commit to the life of crime you seem fated to lead. There’s a lot of money in crime at least, right? The anger inside you never goes away, but you find new ways to deal with it—primarily by starting a fight club and beating up other Sims. Playing the guitar still helps sometimes, and carrying it around with you makes for a good conversation starter (or improvisational weapon). Maybe your sweet melodies will be enough to convince someone to marry you…at least for a little while.

Traits: Active/Hot-Headed/Evil

Aspiration: Public Enemy

Career: Criminal

Rules:

Max the fitness and guitar skills

Reach level 10 of the criminal career and complete the Public Enemy aspiration

As a young adult, start a fight club and become enemies with all club members

Get married and divorced within the same week

Become enemies with benefits with another Sim and have at least one child with them

Generation Seven: Spooky Day 🎃

Trick or treat.

Your childhood was very chaotic. Your parent was always starting fights and making enemies of any friends or romantic partners you brought home. After years of dealing with this, you found it easier to just be by yourself most of the time. Instead of seeking advice from friends or family, you turned to the spirits to guide you toward your destiny. You find great joy in dressing up in spooky costumes, conducting seances in your bedroom, and playing the pipe organ for your ghostly friends. Some people—even your children, eventually—might call you creepy, but they just don’t understand. Not everything outside the normal is bad. Some ghosts are good. Even some vampires. You aspire to be one of them someday, using your supernatural powers to fight evil spirits as a ghostbust—I mean, paranormal investigator. Once you find someone who appreciates your love of all things spooky, you will attempt to share this passion with the children you have together. Your children may not be receptive to it, but you love them enough to help them find their own paths in life, even if it means ending your vampiric line with you.

Traits: Gloomy/Geek/Loner

Aspiration: Good Vampire

Career: Freelancer (Paranormal Investigator)

Rules:

Max the medium, vampire lore, and pipe organ skills

Become an expert paranormal investigator and complete the Good Vampire aspiration

Live on a lot with the haunted lot challenge for all of your adult life

Purchase the Brave trait from the Rewards store

Become best friends or romantic partners with Guidry and/or Bonehilda

Have at least two children, including at least one vampire child

Your heir must be born a vampire, but you must help cure them of their vampirism before they move out as a young adult

Generation Eight: Harvestfest 🦃

Let us give thanks.

You grew up in a haunted house with a vampire for a parent, and it turned you off of the supernatural for life. Who wants to deal with ghosts that are constantly invading your privacy and breaking things? At first, you were scared of the ghosts, but then they just became annoying. You have vague memories of wanting to drink blood as a child, but now you’re perfectly normal, and you just want to live a normal life with a normal, happy family. You’ve loved food and cooking from a young age, so your favorite holiday is Harvestfest, of course—you also love the cute, little gnomes and collect as many as you can. For months before the big day, you dream of the amazing feast you’ll prepare for your ever-grateful family members. Most of the time, you actually prefer to have others cook for you (since you are a bit lazy), but on Harvestfest, you always aspire to create the greatest meal ever. You know your kids, in particular, will appreciate your cooking, since you put all your time and effort into raising them right.

Traits: Glutton/Lazy/Foodie

Aspiration: Super Parent

Career: Food Critic

Rules:

Max the gourmet cooking and parenting skills

Reach level 10 of the food critic career and complete the Super Parent aspiration

As an adult, live on a lot with the Gnomes lot trait

Have a small (not necessarily well-maintained, since you are lazy, after all) garden full of gnomes

Earn gold on a dinner party

Have at least one child age into a young adult with all five positive character traits (good manners, emotional control, responsible, compassionate, and mediator)

Generation Nine: Winterfest 🎄

Ho ho ho.

Your parents raised you to be a good person. There’s never been any question in your mind that you want to do something with your life to help others and make the world a better place. From a young age, you’ve tried to do that by giving gifts—especially ones you knit yourself—to others. You also love to brighten your family members’ days with your beautiful voice. As a young adult, you become a charity organizer in order to do good as part of your job. Since you’re such a good person, who could be a better match for you than Father Winter himself? Once you’re married, nothing will be able to stop you from achieving your dreams of creating a better, brighter world, including by giving homes to children and animals who need them.

Traits: Good/Cheerful/Music Lover

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Career: Politician (Charity Organizer)

Max the knitting and singing skills

Reach level 10 of the politician (charity organizer) career and complete the Friend of the World aspiration

Marry Father Winter and have at least one child with him

Move to Kiyomatsu Point in Mt. Komorebi (the uninhabited residential lot in Yukimatsu where there is always snow) and build (or download from the gallery) your North Pole home there

Adopt at least two additional children and at least two pets

Gain a pristine reputation

Earn gold on a charity benefit party

Generation Ten: New Year’s Eve 🎊

New year, new me.

Growing up, you felt like you were constantly in the shadow of your parents. How could anyone compete with two people so…good? You strive to achieve bigger and better things for yourself, but you feel like you always fall short. Each year, you make a resolution that you try your best to keep, but sometimes you stumble. You work hard at your job and side hustle as a yoga instructor—some people might even call you a workaholic—in order to reach your goal of running your own business one day, and you spend your spare time de-stressing with meditation. You struggle to maintain a romantic relationship as a young adult since you spend all your time working and recovering from work, but you’re hopeful that one day you’ll find your soulmate (they might be closer than you think). Regardless, your focus is on yourself first. No matter what obstacles get in your way, nothing will stop you from becoming the best version of yourself you know you can be.

Traits: Self-Assured/Clumsy/Ambitious

Aspiration: Zen Guru

Career: Business (Management)

Max the logic and wellness skills

Reach level 10 of the business (management) career and complete the Zen Guru aspiration

Run a side business as a yoga instructor

Once you reach the top of the business career, start your own business (this can be whatever you want it to be, but something wellness-themed would be on brand for you)

Marry one of your clients/customers as an adult or elder

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #196

Today on Fate and Phantasms we're building the last of the Three Goddesses Alliance, Ereshkigal! (It took her long enough to show up.)

Eresh is a Grave Cleric for relatively obvious reasons, as it lets her do pretty much everything she does- raise the dead, care for the dead, raise the dead properly, cause earthquakes, and start pandemics. Maybe don't do that last one right now, we're kinda busy with one already. It's a shame Soul Cage is a wizard spell, but pobody's nerfect.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Now all of China knows you're on the naughty list.

Race and Background

Ereshkigal is part chthonic god, part human thanks to being a pseudoservant, that means Fallen Aasimar is a pretty good choice for her. You get Darkvision, Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, Healing Hands to heal with your hands, and the Light cantrip to help the mortals with their dumb mortal eyes, using Charisma to cast it.

She's also the Three Goddess' Representative on behalf of humanity, trying to squirrel some away to prevent them from being entirely wiped out. This gives her proficiency with Intimidation and Religion, as well as an extended spell list we'll go over as it comes up. If you're wondering about the Intimidation: Yes the fandom thinks she's cute now, but you have to remember she's still a god of death. Most people aren't going to be as chill with her.

Ability Scores

Wisdom is first, Ereshkigal spent millennia honing her art alone in the underworld, so either she has a super high wisdom or an incredibly low one. But high wisdom works better for the build, so we'll go with that. Second is Charisma- some people love you, some people are terrified of you, those are both charisma. Your Dexterity is also solid, because your armor is not. Your Constitution is above average because while we don't need it for the build have you SEEN her HP stat? Your Intelligence is okay. You're not dumb, we just need other stuff more. Finally, dump Strength. You're a bit awkward with that spear, but we'll get some stuff to make it work later.

Class Levels

You're 100% Grave Cleric, so we'll just get into it. Starting off in this subclass gets you proficiency with Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as Persuasion to show off your awkward charms and History because you're literally older than the written word. At first level you also enter the Circle of Mortality, so your healing spells automatically heal for max HP on creatures with 0 HP, and you get a suped-up version of the Spare the Dying cantrip that uses a bonus action and has a thirty foot range. You also get Eyes of the Grave, meaning you can sense undead creatures within 60' of you if they're not behind cover. It won't tell you about their identity though, so make sure you don't pick a fight with Strahd, you're still only level one. You can do this Wisdom modifier times per long rest. Starting in a spellcasting class also gets you Spells, surprise surprise, and having a Ravnica background gets you even more. Being a grave cleric gets you Bane and False Life for free, giving you easy access to curses and HP boosts early in the game. Something I want to bring up about the ravnica background before we move forward: I misread how these backgrounds work before. They add spells to your class' spell list, not your spells known. That means builds where you pick spells every level only get the opportunity to learn those spells, they don't just get all of them for free. Clerics can prepare spells from their spell list every long rest anyway so it's not a big difference here, but it is something I'll have to go back and fix for the other members of the alliance and Ishtar. Anyways, you get Illusory Script added to your spell list, not exactly something you'll probably use. For spells you can actually choose, grab Resistance for a goddess core that adds 1d4 to your next save, Thaumaturgy for when you need to get dramatic with extra magical effects, and Toll the Dead to do just that for some necrotic damage. You can also choose to prepare spells like Command to flex your authority and Protection from Evil and Good to flex on your sister.

Second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest in two flavors. Turn Undead takes care of undead that fail their wisdom save, and Path to the Grave will clear out anything else. Spend your action to curse a creature, giving vulnerability to the next attack that hits it. Rules as written you can't target a mountain with this, and you definitely can't get the bonus for an Earthquake spell, but I'd allow it for the cool factor. Alternatively, you can Harness Divine Power to spend one use of Channel Divinity for an extra spell slot which is a level equal to or less than half your proficiency bonus. You can do this once per long rest, but that will grow as your Channel Divinity uses do.

Usually your third level doesn't get you much of anything as a cleric, but since you're a fallen aasimar you get a Necrotic Shroud, spending an action to get really spooky for a minute. Mechanically, this is your big ghostly form, and it'll frighten nearby creatures that fail a charisma save, and for the minute you're transformed you'll deal an extra bit of necrotic damage once per turn. You can go ghost once per long rest. You also get second level spells now, including your freebies Gentle Repose to prevent people from rising back as zombies and Ray of Enfeeblement, which weakens a creature's weapon attacks for up to a minute. They can make a constitution save to shrug it off, but not until the after the spell's already hit, so at least you'll get your money's worth. Thanks to your background you can also learn the spell Enthrall, making it harder for people to notice anyone but you. As someone who's existed in this fandom for any period of time, I can confirm Ereshkigal definitely has this ability. You can also prepare spells like Spiritual Weapon to have a spear that actually hits good and Protection from Poison for more goddess core shenanigans. Finally, make sure you pick up Silence. I'm still not entirely sure how we'll build Tiamat, but that should help shut off her immortality.

At fourth level you get your first Ability Score Improvement, which won't actually be improving your ability scores. grab the Eldritch Adept feat for the Armor of Shadows invocation so you can cast mage armor on yourself for free. You also learn how to cast Friends to make it easier to make friends and terrify your enemies.

Fifth level clerics get third level spells, including your freebies Revivify and Vampiric Touch. You're the god of the dead, so people should only really die when you want them to. Alternatively, you can Animate Dead to summon some skeletons for your own uses. You can also use Spirit Guardians to get more ghostly defenses. They'll slow down creatures of your choice in your area, and if they fail wisdom save they'll take radiant and/or necrotic damage, with it getting halved if they succeed.

At sixth level you get a second use of Channel Divinity per short rest, and a second use of Harness Divine Power per long rest. You also become a Sentinel at Death's Door, shutting down a critical hit near you as a reaction, turning it into a regular attack Wisdom Modifier times per long rest. Sure, you can bring people back later, but this is way less expensive.

Seventh level clerics get fourth level spells, like Blight and Death Ward. It is really hard for flowers to grow in the underworld. You can also use Leomund's Secret Chest thanks to your background, or you can prepare Banishment to throw Tiamat back where she came from, use Guardian of Faith for more ghosts, and leave an Aura of Purity around you to give your allies the blessings of Kur.

Eighth level clerics get another ASI, and this one will improve your ability scores. Kinda. We're grabbing another feat, but being Shadow Touched will improve your Wisdom by one point. It lets you cast Invisibility or Disguise Self once per long rest for free, or you can cast either spell as if it were a normal spell on your spell list. Now you can really make yourself look ghostly, if a bit undersized for your boss fight. Your destroy undead also bumps up to hit CR 1 creatures, but that'll blow up your skeletons as well, so be careful with it. Finally, Potent Spellcasting adds your wisdom modifier to your cleric cantrip damage. Nobody can toll the dead harder than the god of the dead.

Ninth level cleric, fifth level spells. Antilife Shell prevents anyone from getting too close to you, though it also means you can't get close to them without breaking the spell. It's almost poetic. Anyway, you also get Raise Dead, which is like revivify but with a more lenient time frame. You can also instigate your very own christmas event now with Contagion! This spell poisons a target, and at the end of each of its turns it has to make a Constitution save. After succeeding three throws, the spell ends. If it fails three throws, it gets a disease for the rest of the week. The closest thing to Sumerian Flu is probably Filth Fever, which gives disadvantage on saves, checks, and attacks that use strength, but there's all sorts of diseases you can give people. Technically this isn't a contagious disease, but talk to your DM, I'm sure you can work something out. You can also use Hallow to turn your room into a little slice of the underworld, shutting down your sister even further.

Tenth level clerics can invoke Divine Intervention with a 1 in 10 chance of getting a free favor from your god. Your god is you, technically, but it'll make more sense later. You can use this once per day, but it takes a week to recharge after it actually works. You can also cast the Light cantrip now. You could do it before, but now it's stronger.

Destroy Undead grows to hit CR 2 undead, and you can cast sixth level spells. Create Undead makes stronger undead for your army. Sadly dinosaur skeletons aren't available, so you'll just have to settle for ghouls. At higher levels you still won't get dinosaurs, but you can get ghasts, wights, and even mummies! Just be careful you don't stop recasting the spell, mummy rot can be rough. You can also summon a Heroes' Feast for more blessings from Kur, and you can take on an Otherworldly Form for another ghost transformation. This spell makes you immune to fire and poison damage as well as the poisoned condition. You can fly 40' per round, get +2 to AC, and you can attack with weapons using your wisdom twice per attack action. You're stuck with the UA version of this spell, so it takes an action, but on the plus side this just gives you an excuse to use Spiritual Weapon more.

Use this ASI to bump up your Constitution for more health. Health gets added retroactively, so you get +12 HP now instead of just +1. It's pretty nice.

Seventh level spells! Resurrection further cements your control over death with a time limit of a century, and you can also Plane Shift yourself (or an enemy) into the underworld.

Destroy Undead hits CR 3 creatures now. Not even mummies can stand up to your power!

Fifteenth level clerics get eight level spells. If silence won't keep Tiamat down, Antimagic Field should do the trick. The one problem there is it's only a 10' sphere around you, and you rely on magic way more than Tiamat does. You can also cause Earthquakes, turning a very large area into difficult terrain, disrupting concentration, knocking creatures prone, and destroying structures in the area. The one problem here is that you can't fly, so be careful where you're pointing that thing.

Yet another ASI. Use this one to finally max out your Wisdom for super strong spells and better protection from crits.

If you make it to level 17, you get the super powerful ninth level spells. Also, Destroy Undead hits CR 4 creatures, and you become a Keeper of Souls, stealing away some of a dying enemy's soul to heal an ally based on the creature's hit dice once per turn. Right though, ninth level spells. True Resurrection brings someone back even if they've been disintegrated 199 years ago. It's expensive, but you can always grab some gems from your sister if you're pressed for cash. The benefits of sharing a body.

At eighteenth level you get a third Channel Divinity and another use of Harness Divine Power. Really get those paths to the grave filled, it's kind of your thing.

Use your last ASI to grab the Tough feat for 38 HP now and another 2 next level. You have one of the highest HP stats in the game, this only makes sense.

Your capstone level is an improvement to your Divine Intervention. You know how I keep bringing up multiclassing as a con when we include cleric levels? This is why. Your divine intervention now always succeeds. Period. I mean, it makes sense. You are the god giving you power. But yeah, you get guaranteed god-level power freely given as an action. You truly have the power of god and anime on your side.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Clerics have a good variety of spells, and you take it even further with your background. You can heal but you're not completely hosed on your own like Medea Lily, you can deal damage and still do stuff outside of combat unlike your sister, and you have utility without your build being dominated by it like Hundred Personas.

You might not be good in a one on one fight, but you don't get into those that often thanks to your skeleton army. If you just dedicate harnessing divine power to keeping them in line, you can have nine extra bodies on the field to turn the action economy in your favor.

Even when we're not talking about spells, you're still really supportive of your team. Shutting down critical hits and stabilizing your allies quickly will seriously improve the longevity of your party.

Cons:

Dabbling in so many areas of magic means you're unfocused, so you won't excel in any one. You won't heal as much as Medea, deal as much damage as Ishtar, or be a skill monkey like Hundred Personas.

You also rely on magic completely for combat, which means stepping into an anti-magic zone can be deadly. This is especially bad for you, since an anti-magic zone will probably be the best way to deal with Tiamat.

You might have an undead army, but your best spells are area of effect and you're a cleric. Destroy Undead is kind of a big deal for you.

[moonbeamsung]

Serendipitous Synergy

“I can’t believe I got stuck with you, of all people, as a dance partner.”

“What? Scared I’ll steal the spotlight?”

“In your dreams, Lee.”

member: haechan

au: dance partner and rival!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 4.9k

genre: angst, suggestive, fluff

warnings: talk of insecurities and thoughts of self-doubt, a house party, stubborn reader, smug haechan, mentions of ‘sexual tension’ in the context of a dance, kissing, slight innuendos

author’s note: As a dancer myself, this idea came to me after we learned the choreography for Thriller in class one day! And yes I know Halloween was weeks ago but shhh. It’s my first time writing an enemies to lovers au, so I would greatly appreciate any feedback about things I can improve on in the future. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

network tags: @neo-constellations

“...You’ll be partnered with Haechan.”

The words of your instructor seem to swallow up the dance studio you’re standing in, echoing off of the walls with a piercing sound that makes your ears ache, your gut twist, and your blood boil.

This could not be happening.

Said boy seems just as averse to the idea as you are, the corners of his mouth downturned in displeasure.

Your teacher, however, continues to rattle off the rest of the pairs, some of them a little surprising but none nearly as unexpected as the two of you being put together.

Eyes narrowed and gazes sharp as daggers, both you and Haechan turn to stare each other down.

The standoff makes everyone else in the studio uneasy, and though the other dancers aren’t unaccustomed to your endless rivalry, they fear the potential hostility of your reactions. But to their astonishment, it never escalates beyond these stinging glares directed at one another. You’re surprisingly professional about it on the outside, not letting a single swear word slip out from between your lips, while he bites back a snarky insult.

On the inside, though, you’re a mess.

Haechan has been somewhat of an enemy of yours for as long as you can remember, though by no fault of his own. No matter what you did or how hard you tried, ever since you were both young students struggling to find your footing in the artistic world, he’s always been better than you. At everything.

If you managed to nail a double pirouette, he’d step right up and do a third like it was nothing. You finally got your split? He’s already had it for a month, at least. It just wasn’t fair. You both had started dancing at the same age, at the same time, with the same amount of experience: zero.

In all honesty, Haechan had done nothing wrong. The combination of poor timing and better luck had worked against him all those years ago to brew these bitter feelings inside of your heart, rising to the surface whenever you would set foot inside the familiar studio.

These constant sentiments of inferiority took their toll on you, making you fear being compared to him above anything else. It was childish, but you couldn’t stand to be reminded of feeling completely and utterly incompetent next to him. Whenever you performed, you were grateful for the large amount of other dancers occupying the stage, leaving little opportunity for the two of you to be noticed in conjunction with one another.

Now that it’s going to be just the two of you under the bright beams of light cascading down from the rafters, dancing in close proximity, this worry is at the forefront of your mind.

You would do anything to be able to go back to your first year at the studio, when you were young enough to recognize that his skills seemed to outweigh yours, but as a carefree child you remained largely unbothered by this fact. As you got older, it was like a switch inside of you flipped and made you extra aware of each and every thing that you did. Perhaps it was the heightened self-consciousness that puberty brought combined with the already stressful lifestyle of a dancer, but something changed one day, and it was all you could think about when you saw him.

Your internal doubts always translated into being eerily quiet during practice, asking a question to clarify the movements only when it was absolutely necessary. Even your teacher noticed a shift in how you danced. Your gestures and steps lacked their usual precision, and all the confidence you had built up for so long vanished into thin air.

Not sure how to interpret your sudden silence, Haechan took it upon himself to get a word out of you in whatever way that he could, with comments and jokes and even the occasional compliment on your technique. It hardly helped, though. In fact, your constant failure to respond to his attempts created a sort of resentment in him as well, one not generated by envy or insecurity, but simply by confusion and frustration.

During practice one afternoon, you had become so fed up with him trying to talk to you that you lashed out, pushing him away with surprising strength. “Just leave me alone!” You had shouted at Haechan, but you instantly regretted it when you saw the way his eyes welled up with shiny tears, full of hurt after his genuinely good intentions had been totally rejected by their unwilling recipient. Your guilt, however, failed to overpower your stubbornness.

This sent Haechan into his own spiral of the silent treatment before he started to channel his feelings into a similar bitterness. From that day forth, you each became the other’s arch-enemy, challenging one another in any way that you possibly could inside the studio and on the stage. Your instructor, choreographers, and fellow students quickly became tired of the implicit competition that always existed between you, but what on earth could they do to stop it?

At the present moment, they’re contemplating this exact idea, along with just why your teacher thought pairing you with each other would be a good idea. She had done it with the intention of putting a long overdue partnership into action and hopefully eliminating your immature rivalry. Selfishly, she’s also very eager to see how your mutual contempt translates into movement, inwardly predicting that the tension levels will be off the charts.

Not long after, you’re dismissed from practice for the day, but not without a warning look from Haechan. Against your better judgment, you join him by the doorway once everyone else has filed out of the studio.

He clearly called you over for a reason, but you cut him off without even waiting for him to speak.

“I can’t believe I got stuck with you, of all people, as a dance partner.”

Oh, so this is how you’re acting? Two can play at that game.

“What?” He snickers, “Scared I’ll steal the spotlight?”

“In your dreams, Lee,” you scoff, already tired of his taunting attitude.

“Anyway,” his voice is stern before doing a complete 180, now a bit more gentle, “If we’re going to be dancing together for the next few weeks, we might as well be on speaking terms, don’t you think?” The expression Haechan wears on his face is the softest you’ve seen it in a long time, which is definitely saying something.

“I suppose.” Answer short and tone abrasive, you huff a lousy excuse for a goodbye before marching out and into the hallway, but he’s faster than you. You spin around to shrug off his hand from your shoulder, and it gives him the chance to tell you one last thing.

“Look, if you’re going to be like that, it’s not going to make working together any easier. We’re not little kids anymore. You can go back to hating me once this is all over, but can we at least try to put our differences aside and just cooperate for once?”

You nearly split your lip as you bite down on it, holding back a burst of aggravation at the situation you’ve been put in. “Fine.”

You have no idea how you’re going to get through all the practices and all the shows while simultaneously dealing with the boy, but one thing’s for sure: you’re going to prove that you are just as skilled, and just as talented a dancer as he is.

The next time you see him is two days later, at your first rehearsal for this dance. Your studio has always had a Halloween-themed showcase, but it wasn’t until this year that you were old enough to finally be cast in a more exclusive number. The fact that you’re no longer a part of the large group routine, always performed to the same upbeat tune and with the same easy steps, is one of the few silver linings that your duet with Haechan presents.

Faces lined with fatigue and eyes still heavy with sleep, you both arrive at the studio in the morning, duffel bags in hand, the comfy slides on your feet dragging across the hallway carpet with every step. Loud music blares from inside the room, brightly lit despite the early hour. Beside you, Haechan instantly recognizes the tune to be Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and perks up a little at the sound. Too tired to poke fun at his near obsession with the singer, you let his little celebration of the choreographer’s song choice slide.

It’s not your usual instructor that’s going to be teaching you the movements to go along with the piece, which means you have the added challenge of adapting to a different set of preferences, expectations, and choreographing style.

It’s certainly a dance that’s unlike any you’ve ever learned before.

The rehearsal starts off well, and both of you quickly catch on to the basic steps that are somewhat like those of a waltz, except they have a more sinister feel to them in order to match the spooky time of year. Facing each other but standing on opposite sides of the room, you step forward, to the side, to the back and then to the side again. On each accented beat you throw your heads back sharply, mimicking the way the neck of an inhuman creature might snap under any sort of force.

In the next section of choreography, your gazes are supposed to meet once you tilt your heads downward, slowly this time, but it’s difficult to maintain eye contact with Haechan for more than a few seconds. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t even hesitate to stalk towards you in this part of the dance, which calls for you to circle each other like a hungry predator and its timid prey. Maybe it’s the animalistic glint in his irises that throws off your balance and makes you stumble when you see it. Or maybe it’s the fact that your rivalry with him has been entirely disregarded at the moment, brain focused solely on absorbing all of the new information and ingraining the movements into your muscle memory, nothing else.

What frightens you even more than the things that go bump in the night is that all those years you spent... well, not hating, but strongly disliking him could go to waste. It usually takes a lot of time for you to get over things like this, and in a way, you feel like you would be disappointing yourself if you let all of the agonizing feelings of self-doubt go, just like that.

These thoughts swirl around in your mind as you listen to the choreographer’s next words.

“Okay, put your hand here.”

“Like this?”

“Yes, now you’re going to drag it across him, from there to there,” she directs you with a finger, “And then he’s going to pick you up in a scissor lift.”

You’ve never done one of those before, but with some helpful guidance, you begin to have a small bit of faith in yourself that you’re capable of pulling it off. The music starts and you go from the top all the way to the part you were just taught, taking a deep breath in preparation for what’s about to happen.

Just like you had been instructed moments ago, you step very close to Haechan, right behind him, actually, and place one hand on his shoulder as you trail the other across the front of his chest, fingernails scratching the skin underneath through the flimsy t-shirt he’s wearing. You step around to stand in front of him and continue the motion, peering at him with a hesitance that melts away and into an assertive gaze once you see the apprehension in his own eyes. His skin crawls a little, not out of fear but an odd satisfaction and excitement at the feeling of you so near and the sight of your eyes bright with so much determination and dominance, lingering touch tracing the base of his neck and stimulating his nerves from head to toe.

You yelp slightly at what he does next even though you knew it was coming, your self-assured exterior evaporating only moments after it appeared. Haechan turns around and sweeps you off of your feet to hold you in his arms. In the blink of an eye, he helps you hook one of your knees behind his head as he tosses you into the air with seemingly no effort whatsoever, flipping you around to face the other way and catching you immediately after. The complicated lift makes your heart leap to the front of your throat with exhilaration, and you mentally applaud yourself for succeeding on the first try.

Haechan finds it odd that you were so willing to do this lift in the first place, since trust is a key component of partner work in dance. He can’t explain it, and neither can you, quite honestly. A small part of him, however, is glad you didn’t object to the prospect of him being directly responsible for your safety for even the most instantaneous of moments.

“Alright, so for this next part, I’m sure you’re aware of that fact that Michael Jackson was famous for his pelvic—”

Okay, that’s enough, you’ve heard enough. Tuning out the conversation and whirling around to face away from the floor-to-ceiling mirror, you twiddle your thumbs while the choreographer teaches Haechan one of the iconic dance steps in Thriller, and your evident shyness at her unabashed explanation makes him smirk. Thankfully, she has a different set of movements prepared for you.

Since when are you ever shy around him, though?

You still can’t bring yourself to watch your reflections in the glass when you practice the new part together, since he gets so into the provocative motions. His eyes seem to taunt you with the smugness they hold, and you hate the way he’s testing you. You can’t stand it, you can’t stand him, you can’t stand those eyes for all the times they send a shiver down your spine, for all the times they come alive with a beast-like glow. Those eyes can go from soft and sympathetic at times, although the moments are rare, to something else entirely. His mocking stares make your stomach turn, reminding you of why you’ve felt this way about him for so long.

But you’re scared that a new and different feeling is developing inside of you, one that’s telling you he’s not so bad, that you should give him a chance. Haechan has noticed a similar one within himself, and he begins to regret the way he immaturely perpetuated your own resentment for so long.

Even if you do end up making amends eventually, he’s not sure he’ll be willing to abandon all of the playful glances and teasing remarks with flirtatious undertones he sends your way. Do you even notice these things? If your periodic blushing is any indication, then the answer is most definitely yes.

You spend another couple of hours under the choreographer’s direction, stopping only when you had been taught each and every step from the piece’s beginning until the end. Though a Halloween-inspired performance, there’s a surprisingly large amount of eerily romantic undertones within it. You don’t have enough fingers to count the number of times you ultimately caress some part of the other’s body in a forbidding manner, with locked eyes and threatening, fiery glares.

The two of you also have a second but more simple lift, in which you jump and Haechan catches you by the legs to pull your torso against his, while you cling to him tightly like a koala. He supports your weight fully, and never once does the possibility of falling cross your mind. It’s strange how your body is so trusting of him, much more so than your mind.

Towards the end of the song, the lyrics mention something about cuddling close together, the timing of your movements intentionally mirroring the words. Haechan walks in a circle, still carrying you in his arms, and unlike when you’re standing on your own two feet, he actually has to look up slightly to meet your gaze with his own. Something doesn’t feel quite right, though, both of you sensing that you should be putting more effort into the eye contact between you right now.

“No, no, no! Stop for a second.” Your choreographer looks frustrated.

“You have to look at each other like you really mean it,” she corrects. “Just imagine that you’re two lovers on Halloween night, clinging to each other for dear life as you’re being surrounded by every kind of monster imaginable.” Even Haechan flushes a deep red at the descriptive picture she paints in your minds, hoping to inspire you. “Try again, please.”

Putting every necessary emotion into your expressions, you both stare each other down as he lifts you up again, this time with a never-before-seen passion burning in your eyes that could only be described as crazed, lustful desire.

Haechan has always admired your skills, although internally these days, ever since he met you, especially your ability to easily adapt to the message or tone of a piece. Happiness, sadness, anger, whatever your instructor asked of you, you could embody the exact feeling on your face, not to mention in the way that you moved to the beat. Out of all of the scenarios your choreographer could have illustrated, this one is something he never would have expected you to be so ready for. He’s taken aback by how smoothly your facial expression transitions from sheepish to seductive in no time flat.

You wish you could say that you’re not flustered by how well he matches the look in your eyes with his own tantalizing gaze, but alas, that’s not the case.

It’s undoubtedly a dance with a more mature theme than either of you are used to, but you’re both such naturals at it that she compliments you once Haechan sets you back on the ground.

“That’s exactly what I want to see! Keep it up, you two. Are you sure you’ve never been in a piece with any sexual tension before?”

You’re glad you hadn’t quite taken a sip from your water bottle yet, because you definitely would’ve spit it out from pure shock and embarrassment at the bluntness of her remark. Haechan was not so lucky.

The two of you run through the dance almost endlessly, and by the end of your rehearsal your legs are threatening to give out at any moment. “Last time,” she alerts you, “And then you’re done for the day.”

A chorus of some minor corrections but mostly proud affirmations meets your ears as you practice the piece for the final time. “Other foot, Haechan... Strong arms! Good... And lift! That’s it...”

About to collapse from exhaustion and grimacing at the disgusting feeling of sweat on every inch of your skin, both of you thank the choreographer once she dismisses you.

“You two did a great job today, now go home and rest. You worked hard.”

Fishing your car keys out of your bag, you hear her packing up her things inside the studio before she exits the room and strides into the hallway, flipping the light switch and shutting the door behind her. “I’m going to recommend to your teacher that she should partner you up more often. I was really surprised by how well you collaborated.” She chuckles a little, “And to think she told me that you might not get along.”

Exchanging questioning looks, you both nod and smile at her before she makes her way down the hallway, leaving the building through the staff door.

“What was that all about?”

“No idea,” you reply to Haechan with nervousness in your voice, not sure if this is the right time to apologize for several years’ worth of constantly being at each other’s throats.

The moment passes before you can make a decision, and Haechan bids you farewell with a “See you around” over his shoulder. You can’t get the choreographer’s comment out of your mind as you drive home.

But she’s right: your chemistry with each other is unbelievable. Each time you practice this dance in front of them, the rest of your friends stand wide-eyed and open-mouthed at how you move in perfect unison, leaping and turning and touching at all the right moments. Your instructor is sure her jaw is on the floor. Sure, she was expecting something powerful, something fierce, but nothing like this.

The weeks leading up to the Halloween showcase are hectic, as they always are, filled with the rush of adrenaline and last-minute preparations being made, ensuring that everything would be ready for those long nights spent on waiting behind the curtains, moving amidst the stage fog, and dancing below the bright spotlights.

You think you’ve spoken to Haechan more in the past 4 days than you have in the past 4 years. He doesn’t know if it’s just his imagination, but it seems like you’ve gotten more comfortable performing with him as time has gone by. Maybe he should be paying more attention to the steps instead of the way you lean further into him as he clutches your form in his strong arms, torsos pressing into one another and the crevices of your bodies aligning with ease. Maybe he shouldn’t get distracted by the closeness of your lips to his forehead, by the distance that always seems to decrease each time you run through the dance. One day he’s sure he’ll feel their delicate curve against his skin, or maybe they’ll slip down a little to be more level with his. Either way, Haechan isn’t complaining.

The rehearsals that spill over from their scheduled time slots into the late hours of the night leave everyone in the show drowsy after the intense quantities of repeated exertion, running piece after piece over and over again until just standing up is a feat within itself.

And then, all of a sudden, it’s the day of the first show. Costumes have been tailored, makeup has been applied and hair has been done up with an ungodly amount of products and pins.

It can’t be much longer until it’s your turn to perform, so you’re not sure why you find yourself grabbing Haechan by the sleeve of his intentionally tattered shirt, meant to look like that of a zombie, and pulling him into a dark, secluded corner of the backstage area.

“We’re on in 5, what are y—”

“Can I apologize?”

He blinks a few times, processing the word he never thought he would hear leave your lips.

“For... huh?”

“Everything.” You’re thankful that the lighting is minimal back here, concealing the glistening water drops that are beginning to gather at the rims of your eyes.

Voice nearly breaking, you can’t articulate why it feels like the right time to say all of this. But here you are.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for so many years of unexplained anger and outbursts towards you, I’m sorry that I’ve been acting so immature even after all this time. I’m sorry for blaming you and making excuses to justify my actions and my feelings, I—”

You have more that you want to say but the words are no longer coming out, and maybe it’s because your throat feels like it’s burning from all of the emotion it just conveyed in the span of just a few seconds. Maybe it’s because you’ve somehow lost your voice even though you hadn’t been speaking above a whisper. But the most probable cause of them all, is this: maybe it’s because you’ve been rendered speechless by Haechan’s own apology that he delivers by messily crashing his mouth into yours, any further thoughts melting away against his soft lips.

For once, you don’t mind being cut off by him if it’s like this.

His heart begins to sink when you pull away after only a few seconds, but a small smile graces his features once again as you lean in so that your lips hover next to his ear.

“You better not mess up my makeup, Lee Haechan.”

“Donghyuck, actually.”

“What?” Quizzically, you arch an eyebrow.

“My name. My real name.”

“So why do y—”

“Shh, no time. Kiss now, talk later.”

You can’t argue with that. Not when he’s beholding you with a long-awaited forgiveness and a fondness long-concealed in his eyes. Not when the thrill of a time limit has your brains going a mile a minute, an electric buzz erupting over the expanse of your skin his hands are grasping.

You kiss him like it’s the only thing in the whole world that you know how to do. The setting is far from picturesque, with the tangled technical wires littering the floor at your feet and leftover stage equipment haphazardly leaning against the wall, but neither of you really care. Taking care not to snag the fabric of your costume, his fingers find purchase on your waist and his lips on the dip of your collarbone. At first they dotingly imprint fleeting pecks onto the rise and fall of the skin there, but when their pressure and his haste starts to escalate, you know you have to stop him before he starts something you can’t finish.

“Hyuck!” The abbreviation of his name makes his head snap up, bewildered but pleased.

“You can’t leave marks, I told you...” you trail off. “Hey, why are you smiling like that?”

“Please never call me anything else, ever.”

Donghyuck brings you in for one more kiss, well aware that a stagehand could turn the corner at any given moment. Drinking you in, he captures your lips between his, letting your body press his back into the wall behind him, and a few sharp inhales later, you break apart.

You fix his hair while he adjusts your clothes, and you’re just in time because a technician spots you and urgently gestures towards the stage. “You’re up!”

Positioning yourselves on opposite sides of the large performance space, the lights go down and you hear the rush of air from the heavy curtain opening as it glides past you. The thick artificial smoke partially obscures his form, but you can see his eyes clearly, nearly glowing in the darkness.

As the music starts, slow and quiet at first, you step to the rhythm just like you practiced. When a loud, electronic chord blares, you both pick up speed, launching into that waltz step you first learned many weeks earlier. For the first time ever, you’re able to look into his eyes.

Anyone could see that your movements complement each other effortlessly, but only your teacher picks up on the shift in mood after the countless times she’s seen you perform in the studio. Only she notices the shift in both of your gazes. You look... happy. Focused. Confident.

Donghyuck was able to bring you out of the shell you retreated into so long ago. You don’t feel subordinate as you’re dancing next to him, or being held in his arms. You move as equals, two parts of a whole.

When he picks you up, you can’t help but allow a small smile to stretch your lips. Donghyuck tries to remind you that you’re supposed to have lustful looks in your eyes by narrowing his own at you, but it’s no use. Your slight grin is contagious, and it ends up taking over his face as well.

You finish the piece smoothly, ending in a pose with your backs pressed together and hands clasped. Applause erupts from the audience, and a few cheers come from the rest of the performers waiting in the wings, shielded from the view of the crowd sitting in the seats below.

Needless to say, as you pass other dancers in the halls and receive countless congratulations and compliments, all you can think about is having Donghyuck’s lips on your skin again.

One long heart-to-heart and dozens, no, hundreds of kisses later, all is right with your world. It’s foreign territory to you both, not wanting to pounce on each other at every waking moment. But it’s something you’ll explore together, figuring out how to make up for lost time and just how to go about this newly-repaired relationship.

Exiting the empty dressing room, you take his hand in your own and head backstage once again to watch the rest of the showcase from the side, with your head leaning on his shoulder and his arm pulling you close.

At the party held for all the members of the show’s cast that night, it’s far too loud for your liking, and there’s no room to properly dance with Donghyuck. Despite you all being professional dancers-in-training, everyone else seems to have reverted to the mindset of your average high school student, thinking that jumping up and down repeatedly qualifies as dancing. You disagree, but whatever. It’s not important.

What is important, however, is the fact that the two of you would much rather escape the suffocating crowd of young adults. You would much rather slip out through the sliding glass door that leads to the house’s backyard, marveling at the fading sunset that melts into a deep blue night sky dotted with splashes of clustered lights. The stars are nature’s spotlights, shining down on you as Donghyuck takes you in his arms, one hand finding yours and the other resting on your side, somewhere between your hips and your waist.

Swaying in the silence with only the noises of the evening as your soundtrack, the boy that you would’ve sworn was the devil incarnate a month ago looks so angelic, so lovable. You can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing out on.

“So, should we start over?”

“Definitely.”

There’s no one else in this world you’d rather dance the night away with.