#So they have absolutely no excuse for them to not be properly beastly.

[catventuring]

The livestream slide I cling to whenever any talk about hrothgals comes up... Though perhaps other folks may find it neat. (Unfortunately I don't recall which LL this came from in specific, if anyone has any clue, it would be appreciated!)

[sonichkkaaascreams]

Mountain with a Flower Crown (chapter 1)

Just a super long one shot that is broken into a bunch of parts

Zaraki Kenapchi X OC Yamase Yasu

wordcount: 3090~

this is the fist part instalation of Mountain With A Flower Crown. this was inspire by post made by @bleachhaven  and @shadowsnlace   who both made posts regarding Kenpachi and an S/O who is larger than him. I use their headcanons as inspirational sparks to my own greedy little imagination.

Kenpachi may seem a little off but eh, what can I do about it. it just happened. also the starting point of this oneshot came to me in a hormonal fever dream. this is gonna be a super fudging long thing. i think it may be a very well around 6 to 8 chapters knock on wood to keep up my writing mojou.

enjoy ;) and please let me know what you think. XP

Yamase Yasu prided herself on being an early riser. She had practiced the discipline of waking up before sunrise to another day of hard work no matter how tired she may be from an early age. As such, her current circumstances were less than ideal.

 She was not only awake, forced to endure the bright rays of the sun right in her eyes and listen to the damned feathery monsters sing annoyingly but also she was required to stay still and not move an inch.

 Unlike her, her beloved spouse was sound asleep free from all the worries of office work. She greatly envied the man’s ability to not only sleep through the annoying chirping of birds but also all the way through the morning to evening regardless of the loud ruckus his squad members made. The only thing that would make him open his eyes was if she moved about. Witch is why despite her dire need to get up, stretch, make breakfast for an entire squadron of men who can’t take care of themselves properly and go to her own squad office to work; she was laying on their futon and fighting the urge to coo at the slumbering beast.

 Contrary to the common belief of those who shared a futon or a roof with Zaraki Kenpachi, he is not by any means a light sleeper. Take away the threat of the man rolling on top of his partners and smothering them to death and the man sleeps like a bear through winter. And that extra layer of peace and ease showed on his face and the way he slept.

 For one, he was sprawled on top of her with no care in the world. No matter how neatly or sweetly they sleep he always finds a way to roll over her, using her chest or stomach as his pillow. And so long he didn’t drool on her she wouldn’t mind it. Another sign that he was deep asleep was the light yet deep and rattling snores. And even those were endearing and cute.

 This morning however it seemed her spouse was hellbent in testing her patience – witch she was never renowned for – he was not only sleeping with a slighting parted lips, lightly snoring, and had done this absolutely cute thing where he held a fistful of her sleeping Yukata, but also his stupid and unreasonably soft hair was fanned out over her, tickling her skin.

 She is only but a mere woman. She is flawed and weak to temptation. Especially one as sweet and divine as this one. Not many would describe the 11th captain of the 11th division who just happens to be the sole successor of Kenpachi Yachiru cute. But at the moment that was the only word she knew of, that could capture his peaceful slumber - And until someone made a better word her husband had to deal with being called so – as mentioned Yamase Yasu as disciplined as she claimed to be, was only a mere woman and of course, she gave in to the divine temptation and ran her fingers in her husband’s hair and feel the silky soft yet soapy dry hair – he refused to use any proper hair product and she had no right to complain since she was no better – running her fingers a little higher she reached his scalp and began to massage his head. Feeling every secret scar that charcoal black mane hid. And taking inventory of the one or two gray hair she would find.

 “hmmm.” The rumbling groan of his dry throat rattled her bones and resonated in her skull. How she truly found his voice calming. “you’re awake.”

 “Sorry I woke you up. I couldn’t resist.” Her voice equally cracked and dry was louder and clearer than his own. Zaraki Kenpachi refused to admit that even after 100 years of married life, her voice still made his heart race.

 “I’m not complaining.”

 With a grunt, he pushed himself up and pulled himself up towards her face. His unkempt mane falling around them like a curtain of privacy against the prying eyes of the sun and those birds – that Yasu, who also prided herself on being ‘peaceful’ wanted to kill one by one if they didn’t shut up and let her listen to Kenpachi’s voice and NOTHING else – it was a solid minute or two of them just staring at each other and by any bystanders, it was not only unromantic but also rather unsettling to have the beastly captain Zaraki stare at them for long periods. Usually, a glance was enough to make grown men lose control of their bladers. For this fated pair, however, this was a ritualistic habit of cataloging every scar and wrinkle the other had gained.

 The small scars on her face, the slightly chipped and torn lip, the small scar and the smaller bald patch it had resulted, a barely visible scar on her eyebrow, the shallow wrinkles around her eyes resulted by squinting at the sun, and the visible laugh line, the small blue veins he could see if he paid attention and the way every muscle twitched.

 “it’s a bit late for you to be still in bed.” He stated matter of factly in a way that only she would realize what it meant. It’s a bit late for you to still be in bed meant: did you sleep in again because you didn’t want to wake me up. And only she knew his matter-of-fact tone was not an observation or a statement but a self-condemnation.

 “why captain Zaraki! You think me so cruel that I would up and leave my beloved husband cold in the morning to go to work? Without saying good morning?”

 His grunt made evident that her teasing was effective. With a smile she continued to tease as she wrapped her iron grip around his waist and slide a finger on the arch of his back – she couldn’t bring herself to call anything on this man small even to describe the small of his back – “you’re not just a warm body my dear. I love to wake up to see you still asleep so peacefully. You look so cute I want to eat you up.” She giggled. The Mountain woman of Gotei, in all her 8’8 glory, giggled. “I love it when I get to run my hands in your soft hair and take in your scent and have your head in the crook of my ne-AAHH…” her insufferable cooing was brought to an abrupt end when the strongest Kenpachi hit her in the face with a pillow. Using her initial shock as a distraction he rolled off of her and buried his face in the pillow to cover the ever-growing deep blush that dusted his face. It wasn’t a feminine blush rather it was a dark, red almost brownish. And he was not cute. By gods, he was NoT CuTe. AT ALL. HE WAS THE CAPTAIN OF SQUAD 11 AND HE WAS NOT CUTE GODDAMIT. Well, at least he’s not cute as far as anyone else is concerned.

 Laughing loudly she rolled and embraced her husband in her arms, after 100 years of marriage and 50 more years of knowing the woman beforehand, it still amazes him how easily he is held in her arms. How well fitted his face is in her neck and how safe it all feels. Like he's a scrawny child all over again back in Zaraki woods but this time he’s safe and he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open or dig himself a hole under a tree for warmth, hell he doesn’t even need to hug his sword for safety and safekeeping. No, he can just sleep, or rest, or just lean in the warm embrace and drown himself in the scent of sea salt, peaches and ink. Completely safe and loved. He’d never tell her that, no, he’ll take it to his grave and beyond. But he doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need him to. The simple soft hum that rumbles in his chest and the long, deep exhale on her throat says more than enough.

 “you’d think after this long of a time, you’d be used to my pampering chi-chi.” She cooed at him barring her nose in his hair. She loved how he always smelled so distinctly him. Just him. Nothing ever changed his scent. His sweat, his stupid cheap dry soap – that she also used because she is too busy to use the shampoo and hair conditioner and all the other dumb things lieutenant Matsumoto gives her every year for her birthday – and woods, the special pine woods only found in Zaraki. He always smells of those. And if he comes back from missions, blood. The metallic rusty smell of blood that always compelled her to ask for a full day off from her captain immediately to attend to her… private needs with her husband.

 “Unfortunately, love of my life, you are awake which means I have no excuse to stay in bed any longer. And if you and the boys want breakfast I better shake a leg.” She hummed as she left chaste kisses over his face.

 “Fuck them, the bastards can go eat shit for all I care.” He snarled. How dare they and their needs take his wife from his bed?

 “Honey, you need breakfast as well.”

 “No I don’t.” he – dare she say the word? – whined like a bratty child and gripped at her even harder. It wasn’t even a sexual groping, he just really really wanted the warm embrace to last longer. But from past experiences she knew if she catered to him any longer she would most likely not leave this room for about another years or so. And so as the sensible wife of the squad 11 she wiggled into a comfortable position and willed herself to her feet. Her 2 feet shorter husband refusing to let go, hung from her neck.

 “chi-chi, light of my life please don’t swing from my neck.” She lovingly stroked his back and hair beckoning him to be a little more mature. Earning a guttural, loud, ground shaking, ear-piercing growl as he tightened his equally iron grip. “ at least wrap your legs around my waist so I wouldn’t trip and fall on you. you wouldn’t want to explain to Isane-Chan WHY you have a broken arm early in the morning again…. Right?

 Given the choice of letting go of his precious peach-scented giantess and holding on to her like a monkey’s babe, you’d think the strongest Kenpachi would hold on to his dignity and let go. But no.

 The man had gone nearly 800 something years of his life touch starved with no real understanding of affection, the moment his beloved Yasu had begun to shower him with it his mind was simply blown. ‘Is this why Yachiru always hung off of his shoulder everywhere? Is this why she always ran to his arms like a crazed boar?’ because that’s what he wants to do with her.

 “She can keep her mouth shut.” He says taking in another breath full of sea salt and peaches. But finally, lets her go. It’s been 100 years for them and he knows she gets annoyed when she can’t go to her office on time. But he can sure make it difficult for her as he is still very much salty that she chose squad 10 over his own. “the hell you chose the Lil' brat over meh?” he had thrashed and at one point picked a fight with everyone from squad 10 – the captain in question, the Lil' brat. Refused to indulge her suiter at the time. – “you coming home earlier today? for lunch I mean.”

 Home. Another thing that made her heart flutter and bounces about like a lamb, is Kenpachi referring to squad 11 barracks as home. He had only started calling the place their HOME about 30 years into their marriage and Yasu firmly believed to this day he doesn’t realize he started doing so and if she pointed it out he would instantly stop.

 “Ahh, no. I promised to go to this new ramen stand that’s opened recently with Momo and others.” She smiled apologetically as she followed him to the adjoined captain’s bathroom. Kenpachi fast to strip to wash off before entering the basin of warm water and Yasu, who hated showering in the morning simply brushed her rust-colored crow’s nest, braiding the gray strands and adding her handmade decorations. Smiling at the second set of decorations that belonged to her beloved. They were much simpler and significantly less intricate than hers – just a few sharp wolf teeth and hawk feathers and one or two polished stones kept for special occasions such as date nights – which was just a stroll and wrestle in the woods and sex in the wilds night – and birthdays – the same as date nights but less walking, more sex and a lot steamier plus a gift is given as well –

 “I should seriously get going love, I won't be home for lunch but I’ll try to be home for dinner earlier so we can wrestle.” She smiled her big kind stupidly beautiful smile that made Kenpachi avert his eyes to avoid another humiliating blushing event. And he would have succeeded if Yamase Yasu, the mountain of squad 10 hadn’t bent down – he still can’t wrap his braid around the fact that she has to bend down for him – and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

 He deemed himself lucky that she left and didn’t see how that simple cherishing act turned his whole being into mush. And also very unlucky because now that she had departed for the barracks kitchen, he was left alone to deal with the aftermath of looking at her swaying hips in a thin, light white Yukata. As a married man, he should not have to deal with this predicament alone, however, he realized soon after actually living with Yasu under the same roof that, being an obstacle between her and her career is a fool's errand and it’s best if she is left to manage her time and duties herself. In fact, he begrudgingly admits, their afternoon wrestling is far more enjoyable than any morning quicky he could convince her into.

 On the other side of the barracks, newly dressed in formal black Shikaushou, Ymase Yasu was already in the middle of preparing breakfast for her hundreds of beloved morons. Ymichika, being an early riser himself was also present. Having retired from his morning shower he was enjoying a cup of tea as he helped Yasu warm up her habitual – albeit horrid and unsightly – blood milk. “you don’t have to help you know. I can manage myself.” She would politely say, which was her way of saying ‘please get out of my way.’ She had already stepped on his poor dainty feet and her mobility was further reduced by being careful not to barrel into the small, dainty fellow. “I know. I want to help dear. You don’t let me take care of your hair so I thought I’d do something else.”

 Oh, god. Please no. “ Yumichika, dear, I already told you, I don’t care for hair. It’s fine as it is. And you don’t need to help me in the kitchen.”

 “what she really means is that you’re small and get in her way. Stay around and she might accidentally step on ya like a bug.” Madarame Ikkaku, her husband's lieutenant and right-hand man – and in her personal opinion, the closest thing Kenpachi has to an actual friend. – may be rude and insufferable with absolute no table manners but she could always rely on him to tell the mean things she didn’t want to say.

 “that’s one way of putting it.” She smiled, offering him a full plate of the most protein-filled breakfast a man could ever dream of. “I put extra spinach, berries, and eggs for you; I hear it’s good for hair growth.” She adoringly said as she patted the lieutenant's shoulder. Making Ikkaku break his chop-sticks. Oh, how he wished he could kick her ass. Unfortunately, his captain would kill him if he so much as looked at her with ill intent. – something about her not partaking in violence witch was dumb, he’d seen the way they ‘wrestle’ once by complete accident and the image that’s unfortunately burned in his mind is nothing if not violent and he hears things. Violent-sounding things. How is she not into violence when she married him?- he shouldn’t think about his captain’s wife that way, he tells himself. And instead says:” I’m not bald…my head is shaved.” A vein popping on his head.

 “I didn’t say you were.” She deadpans causing Yumichika to snort into his tea. “just because I’ve never seen you shave your head, or your hair to grow out – even after spending time on missions or never seen you in possession of a single strand of hair – anywhere – doesn’t mean I said you’re bald.”

 Ikkaku Madarame respects his captain greatly. Sometimes, however, he thinks he married a devious demon.

 “you take that back you damn Yama-Oni.” He cries out attempting to draw out his sword but is held back by Yumichika who is using his mastery over his eyebrows to tell Yasu to ‘please don’t bully him.’

 “mountain- demon? Now that’s a new insult. I should write this one down.” She happily sings out as she prepares the last bits of breakfast and proceeds to ring the bells of the kitchen. Informing the squad that their breakfast is now served.

 Yamase Yasu is an eternal pain in Ikkaku madarame's behind, but he admits if it weren’t for her food that this squad would have A) starved to death and B) would have slept till evening. She managed to convince them to get up early and to eat a healthy diet. What was it that Yumichika had said? Something about a woman’s touch?  The berries are too tasty for him to care for anything else.

 And as she is about to leave to her own squad, to the one she actually works at, the members of the loudest, rudest, nastiest squad in Gotei all bow and thank Yamase-san. And the new ones who are still shy around the giantess bow and thank their ‘Oujou-sama’ which makes him want to laugh.

 Yeah…a woman’s touch. Or something.

[monitorsscrawlings]

Jonathan’s Hair-Raising Halloween Adventure - Outline

Rough-up under the cut. Contains crazy-spoilers and a lot of notes and other jazz. Broken up into parts to keep things flowing and to help stay on track. Enjoy!

1.) In the midst of the October flurry of pumpkins, autumn leaves and the excited stirring of all manner of things dark and dreadful, the Sloan’s resident monsters are busy subtly helping get the house and grounds readied and properly decorated for Halloween, and eagerly spooking, scaring, haunting and playing with Jonathan, now seven (seven and three-quarters, as the little boy would excitedly insist).

2.) Grunk and Krolli overhear Jonathan’s parents debating–among other things–who will be setting aside time to be taking Jonathan trick-or-treating this year. Decidedly unimpressed by Mr. and Mrs. Sloans lack of holiday spirit, they decide right then and there that its time for them to have a turn! Skulking away the monsters soon gather together to make plans and pass the word along: attic to basement, in Jonathan’s closet and under his bed they gather and confer, eager to partake in a trick and treating, spooking n’ scaring spree with their human! And such a hair-raising monster-jamboree sounds likes just the thing! This years Halloween is one the people of this town will be talking about for years to come! Perhaps even the demons and spirits of the holiday will take notice and confer their favor? Oh, how delightfully gruesome! After all, who better than young Jonathan to celebrate the season with than his monsters? Because really, why should little JonJon’s mum and dad have all the fun?

3. ) Naturally it’s Grunk who approaches Jonathan, Drool in tow, as he lies awake in bed, scared, excited and restless, the underside of his bed and his closet particularly lively with monsters tonight, tentacles and claws creeping over his bed-covers, a host of familiar spooks and monsters keeping him company even as they ensure he doesn’t sneak out of bed and spend his night wandering about outside his room, getting into no end of mischief. Sparking their humans imagination, they growl and hiss, claws curled and teeth bared as they reveal their plans and entice Jonathan to spend his Halloween with them, teasing and tempting him with the prospect of all the candy they’d rake in, all the ghoulish fun they’d have to together, all the people they’d scare and all the pranks they’d pull! It doesn’t take much to win their human over, the child’s eyes alight with excitement as they wriggle under the covers and hug the pair close. They promise to make this October a fun-filled fright-fest, just for him. Jonathan giggles as Grunk gently boops him on the nose and ruffles his hair, while Drool gives him several slobbery lickery-kisses and snuggles up to him, before his high spirits damper as he recalls his parents with a guilty start: they did promise to take him trick-or-treating again this year, he can’t be in two places at once, and really, he doesn’t think his parents are ready to meet Grunk or the others, not really, so they can’t all go together! Adults have some weird notions about monsters after all, it would never work! Grunk let’s out a deep growling chuckle, eyes blazing as he displays a wide grin full of teeth, full of creepish glee as he gives his human a few lickery kisses of his own and tickles their feet, assuring them that they’ve got everything covered, just wait and see~!

4.) Practically vibrating with excitement, Jonathan is eventually persuaded to fall asleep, and over the next few evenings the boys monsters finally relent and reveal their plans, with a little pleading and prodding from Jonathan. They’re going to play a little Halloween trick on his parents: one of the monsters will dress up and switch with him, his double taking his place and trick-or-treating with his parents, while he spends this Halloween with them! A smallish-monster just his size, Horus Boogart, eagerly volunteers themselves, and proves their worth by giving a downright uncanny imitation of little JonJon’s voice. Course decided, the monsters help Jonathan choose costumes for himself and his double. Their boy stoutly insists that he wants to be something good and scary!

Ghoul? Vampire? Warlock? Zombie? Demon? Ghost? Werewolf? Banshee? Devil? Ogre? Mummy? Nope, none of these will do, not for him. Instead the boy eagerly proclaims he wants to be a scary boogey-monster, like Grunk and the others. Absolutely chuffed with their humans choice, and tickled by the idea, the monsters help put together a truly frightful costume for their human: lovingly assembled from old bits of fabric and odds and ends, spider-thread, and discarded horns, teeth, claws, scales, hair and fur.

Armed and forewarned with the knowledge of what his monsters are up to, Jonathan insists to his parents that he wants to make his own costume this year, and after a bit of wrangling they go shopping to pick up basic supplies and decorations; craft-paper and glue-sticks, candy and pumpkins. The clock ticks down to the big day in a flurry of excitement, school, decorations, and holiday cheer.

5.) Before long Halloween arrives, and at the crack of dusk Jonathan gets himself ready as he and his double dress up like mummies, before rushing to show off his handy-work to his parents. Sneaking up on his father he gives them a momentary unexpected fright before rushing off to grab his pumpkin pale and ducking into the bathroom with a hasty excuse, making a last minute switch with his double. His double takes his place, taking pictures, trick-or-treating with his dad dressed as a mummy and going door to door, all while pretending to be him.

Jonathan meanwhile quickly rejoins the rest of his monsters, and eagerly slips into his real Halloween costume with some help, bouncing about, waving his claws and letting out several practice growls, to Grunks pleasure and amusement. With the hood up and the costume zipped up and secured, the boy makes for quite a sight. Why, even his own mum wouldn’t recognize him, Krolli proclaims with delight. After a bit of clowning around the monsters gather their supplies and slip out of the house with their boy in tow, eager for a night of tricks, treats, and a wee bit of mayhem too.

6.) They make good time as they prowl through their neighbors pumpkin patch, romp and stomp through the woods while making a beastly ruckus and sending owls and bats into flight. Stopping at the crest of a hill overlooking one of the towns oldest and largest cemeteries Jonathan joins his monsters at howling at the moon together in celebration as he rides atop Grunks head, waking zombies, ghosts, ghouls from their naps and rousing them from their graves. Chortling and growling the monsters are soon on the prowl as they gambol into town to dole out plenty of tricks and treats.

7.) Doling out a few friendly scares here and there, Jonathan and his monster mix and mingle with other trick-or-treaters, chatting amongst themselves and showing off a little for their human, collecting plenty of candy and playing tricks on those few who are unprepared for the holiday season. Occasionally playing tricks on orscaring adults and trick-or-treaters alike for the fun of it, they hit neighborhood after neighborhood, their boy  carried or hitching rides as he’s rotated from one monster to the next so everyone can spend some time with their lad. Sack after sack is filled and loaded into a little red wagon one of the boogey-monsters requisitions after a particularly successful scare sends a flock of older children running and shrieking in fright. Letting out a contented sigh as he scampers along, one hand holding Drools claws, the other resting in Grunk’s beastly mitt as they stroll through the crisp autumn night air and crunching through the autumn leaves, Jonathan wishes to himself that Halloween could last forever.

8.) It’s when they mingle with a larger group of children in one of the busier neighborhoods and the hour begins to turn late, when they begin contemplating whether they should retire early or press onward, that disaster strikes. A group of masked teenagers armed with heavy-duty flashlights, eggs, stink-bombs, toilet-paper, firecrackers, and water-balloons crashes the party and sends trick-or-treaters running left and right shrieking and hollering in panic and terror in a  most unsporting fashion as candy-pales are snatched and people are pelted with rotten eggs and water-balloons, paper-toilet and stink-bombs being thrown about freely. The flashing lights and loud-noises leaving the monsters disoriented in the confusion as they try to shield their child while chasing and scaring the bullies away. The pandemonium only increases.

9.) In the general chaos Jonathan gets separated from his monsters, his hood eschew and his ears ringing as he hastily clears away the toilet-paper and silly-string from his person and ends up mistaking someone else for Drool from a distance, rushing to catch up. It’s only too late that he realizes his mistake and tries to play it off, quickly ducking away and reluctantly joining another group of trick-or-treaters as he tries to make the best of the situation and hopes he runs into his monsters again soon. Unfortunately this particular neighborhoods rubbish: the most interesting thing he acquires is a nice long rope of sausages from an old, eccentric and quite probably senile old man who moonlights as a butcher, which he reluctantly accepts. From there it’s down hill as he receives stale marshmallows out of the package, circus peanuts, toothbrushes, a feeble smattering of actual candy, and the worst insult of all: a good-sized rock dressed up in wrapping paper depicting grinning jack-o-lanterns from some masked weirdo.

Angry and disappointed by such a poor showing, Jonathan brightens up considerably at the prospect of what manner of ghoulish trickery awaits this neighborhood when he tells Grunk and the others all about this and shows them such a shameful collection of ‘treats’. Buoyed by the very thought, Jonathan continues on with a bit more pep in his step and nearly crashes into his dad and body-double.

10.) Jonathan hastily ducks away and escapes down an  alley before ducking back into the graveyard on the edge of the woods they’d passed earlier that night to avoid being spotted by the gang of older kids, who he can hear uncomfortably close by as they continue sowing mayhem and making a ruckus. Stumbling across a severed zombie’s head bouncing along in desperate search for its body, he reluctantly agrees to help. Grunk always told him never to trust dead things, but he didn’t say anything about undead things, and while the few skeletons and ghosts hanging about seem surprised at his boldness, they’ve been perfectly nice! Eventually they find its body aimlessly wandering in circles around a headstone. The zombie promises it owes him one after it thanks him. Jonathan waves goodby and delves deeper into the graveyard, more afraid of ransacking teenagers than ghosts, monsters and ghoulies as he tries to find another way out.

11.) Stumbling on more trouble in the form of three teenagers in animal masks playing keep-away with one of his school-yard chums from school, Jonathan decides to emulate Grunk and climbs up to stand on a headstone. He does his best to scare the trio away. While initially the three are startled into dropping the sack of candy and letting their victim scramble away, they don’t exactly run screaming in terror into the night. In deep trouble now, the leader tries to grab a hold of the little meddler. A scuffle ensues, and in his desperation he starts screaming his head off, kicking one of the trio in the shin, punches the other in the jewels, and finally bites the leader wearing a tiger mask in the fleshy place between thumb and forefinger as hard as he can when they grab him and try to cover his mouth to shut him up. Hard enough to leave a serious indentation and make them shout and cry a bit as they quickly let him go and push him away.

12.) Thrown to the ground with a gasp, he accidentally rips their handkerchief free and automatically hangs on to it it for dear life as he scrambles to snatch up his sack of loot and make a run for it. The trio of trouble-makers give chase, shouting and cursing as the rabid little freak that attacked them ducks between headstones and under low-hanging tree-branches, before crawling through a trough under the fence and escaping into the neighboring farm as they duck through the pumpkin-patch, before vanishing into the forest. The bullies giving chase the entire way. The trio end up crashing into each other as the one wearing the owl mask missteps and ends with their foot jammed good into a rotten pumpkin, losing any chance of catching him.

13.) Stopping to catch his breath as he keep walking and tries to find his way back into town, daring to hope that the worst is behind him, little JonJon runs afoul of a rather dim-witted and near-sighted ogre in the woods. Chased up a tree by the hungry fiend, thinking quickly he manages to eventually convince them that he’s not a human even if he smells like one, but a monster, and that if they’ll leave him be he’ll give them the human entrails he’d been saving for later. Disguising the rock by wrapping it up in the sausages, he feeds the whole mess to the ogre, who shatters more than just a few of their rancid teeth in their greedy enthusiasm. Quickly scampering out of the tree while the ogre is distracted, Jonathan runs, the sounds of their agony and rage spurring him on.

14.) On the way out of the woods they stumble into a dreadfully ghoulish looking zombie, who after nearly scaring the piss out of them, gets them to settle down and escorts them out of the woods, thanking Jonathan for helping his brother get ahead back there in the graveyard, really kind of him, while also gently chiding him for wandering around alone like that: no telling what weirdos or creatures are stalking the shadows! A young human–or a young monster for that matter–could get into a lot of trouble!

Fervently agreeing, as he thinks he’s had quite enough excitement for one night, Jonathan is eventually led back into the familiar embrace of his monsters, who are overjoyed to see him, and have been looking absolutely everywhere for him! Between bites of candy and sips of water he tells Grunk, Drool, Krolli and the rest of the gang everything. Their relief in having their human back is only rivaled by their pride and delight as they listen to their human excitedly tell his tale, energy and high spirits restored!

15.) It’s only when it’s brought to his attention that he’s still has the grimy and damp handkerchief from the leader of the graveyard naer-do-wells mixed in with the rest of his junk that Jonathan realizes he didn’t lose it. Letting out a grisly series of laughs, the monsters have an absolutely fiendish idea, and propose once last hurrah to conclude the night, with a little well-deserved revenge mixed in, that is if of course if their boy’s up for it? Jonathan eagerly agrees with an evil laugh of his own as the handkerchief is passed around, the the monsters picking up the scent, with Krolli in the lead this time.

16.)  After a few false starts they split up to track the scent. It doesn’t take long at all however for them to track the scent to an elicit Halloween-party in an abandoned haunted house on the very outskirts of town, flanked by the woods. Ah, and look, the parties in full swing! Perfect. The word is spread and the monsters gather together en masse: familiar boogey-monsters, ghoulies and beasties from basement to attic, closet to under-bed, with Grunk, and his human at the center as they plot and plan. They scope the place out before dispersing–this old place is just ripe with potential, with its dusty and disused rooms and and dark spider-web bedecked corners. And it would be such a shame to pass up on such a golden opportunity to show these upstarts how a good scare is really done, particularly since they recognize quite a few of the hoodlums that crashed their own trick-or-treating spree! Oooh yes, this is going to good.

17.) Jonathan is snuck inside and safely sequestered under one of the covered concession tables, with Sly there to keep him company and guard him as they sip on soda-pop, snack on popcorn, and sit back to watch the show.

18.) It smarts small enough. The lights gutter and flick, doors slam, the sound system starts acting strangely, playing a horribly distorted version of ‘This Is Halloween’ before dying out with a wet gurgling growl of static. Those small groups of party-goers who can be lured away, broken up or distracted are with subtle tricks. Just as the sound-system is plugged back in, the powers cut. The wind howls, shutters bang, the silence is deafening before people start raising a ruckus and start dispersing: a couple of people go down into the cellar to find the fuse-box. A few more hunt for candles or go off throughout the house armed with flashlights and start to explore with nothing better to do, or join the other kids up stairs for a snog or some cheesy party-games, bored with no music and little enough booze on hand. Worst Halloween Party Ever.

19.) Showtime! A series of scares unfold rapidly.

A quartet of teenagers wandering into the kitchen for snacks investigate the weird glowing and thumping noises emanating from the fridge, thinking its another of their friends shitty pranks only to receive the scare of their young lives as Krolli explodes out of the fridge with a dreadful snarl, teeth bared and face stretched into a grotesque leer, before with a nasty grin he belches forth a great shrieking flock of blood-eyed vampire bats that send them running while screaming bloody-murder out the back door and into the night, the bats chasing them for several blocks before they disperse, as Krolli moves on to his next victim.

Ah young love…A couple of teens close their eyes and lean in to kiss, silhouetted by the dim starlight coming through the unshuttered window in one of the upstairs bedrooms only to pause as they smell something funky. Quickly cracking open a window and assuming its just a dead skunk or the like, they resume where they left off, leaning in nervously, eyes closed, to kiss. Only for Drool to insert himself between the couple with a toothy grin, arms encircling his pair of victims as they jerk apart in horror and disgust after kissing him on the snout, eyes flaring open. He returns the favor with a thorough and slimy lickery-kiss of his own. With an evil braying laugh the scaring and the screaming starts.

Grunk corners the ring-leader and his twin brother for this dreadful charade down in the basement, dragging his claws with a sinister rasp along the floor before slowly looming up behind them, green ooze salivating from between his teeth to dribble upon his pair of unsuspecting victims heads as his tail slithers to encircle their feet with a gentle rasp, hot billowing breath washing over the backs of their necks as he lets out a deep growling chuckle. It’s been a while since he visited the Jones brothers. It’s going to be so fun to catch up on old times, and remind them of why they’re still afraid of the dark, even after all these years.

It’s the same story throughout the house as the air is soon filled with shrieks and screams of terror, horror and revulsion. Monsters of all shapes and sizes strike with ghoulish glee, no expense spared and no mercy shown as they have the utmost fun with a house of fresh victims ripe for the scaring. Bursting from wardrobes and out of closets, hulking from under beds, and in one notable instance several monsters making their entrance from a dumbwaiter. The lights flicker and dim before returning, as the monsters gather together to mop up the stragglers in group scares. Things reach a crescendo of terror as people knock down the front door or desperately start climbing out of the windows to escape as the monsters send each and every single one of the party-goers running and screaming into the night, racing off pell-mell in their cars or dashing down the road, more than one pair of pants soaked through with fear-urine.

The teens party has been utterly trashed, and whatever they tell themselves or each other, Grunk and the others will be very surprised and disappointed if they don’t all remember this night for years to come.

20.) Feeling quite self-satisfied they gather together, congratulating each other on their fine work and fetching their human–who’s beside himself with glee and still full of vim and vigor in spite of the lateness of the hour–a product of all the sugar and excitement no doubt–as he recounts his favorite scares and makes more than one monster blush with pleasure and pride. Playing games and chatting amongst themselves they slink through the night and return home, stashing the nights loot away least their boys parents start asking awkward questions. Jonathan and Horus update each other on how their nights went, and though his parents gave him funny looks at the dinner table, no one objected to his monstrous stand-in keeping his costume on, or seemed to notice anything odd.

21.) Deciding to play one last Halloween trick on their boy, the monsters wait until Jonathan is ready for bed and lights are out as they gather thickly under his bed, before with many a toothy grin he’s grabbing by his ankles and dragged screaming underneath into the monster-infested shadows with a shriek of fright and indignant amusement. Chortling and making all manner of beastly noises, well satisfied, they spend until the wee hours of the morning together with their human. Reading horror-comics, teasing and playing with him, and snuggling together as they snack on candy and enjoy the remains of their Halloween together, until Jonathan eventually succumbs to exhaustion and conks out. He wakes up in his bed the next afternoon, having completely slept through wake-up call, physically queasy, tired and sore, but mentally exhilarated. His monsters were right: best Halloween ever.

Author Note: Way way too fatty to be a proper outline, and it feels like this needs some work still, even before I (maybe) turn it into a full-scale short-story or whatever? Need to clean this up and tighten the plot-points and include more monsters by name, but I think this isn’t too bad, even if it’s probably a labor to read as is.

Special thanks to @mickeyjunk for inspiring this whole thing and giving me the creative boost I needed to write all of this!

[kwonhozhi]

A Penny For Your Thoughts, £400 For Your Meal

its now been a clean 2 weeks since i posted the last thing so here we go i guess,,, next thing i post should be the angus thongs au so i hope this tides you all over xxx

my love to @alrightevans @alrightpotter and @prongsyouignoramus for helping me get it from the mess it was when i wrote it 18 months ago to this

AO3

8:50. Avery glances at the bill and goes down to his car to retrieve his conveniently forgotten wallet.

 8:59. Malfoy goes down to see what’s keeping him.

 9:29. Nott slips out to answer an important call.

 9:44. Mulciber dons his coat to take a piss.

 9:51. Severus excuses himself for a quick fag, and Lily is left sitting alone at their table with a growing sense of suspicion.

 9:53. Lily finally convinces herself to look at the bill, and her stomach drops to her knees.

 11:41. “Ma’am?” the waitress asks, and Lily was sure she’d seen the worst of the girl’s frown, but she was wrong.

 “A-another glass, please,” she mumbles, and the waitress’ eye roll and impatient huff says it all. There are eight or nine completely full glasses in a little grove in front of her already, and she doesn’t exactly have a plan of action, but at least this is buying her more time.

 She’s buying herself more time, with money she doesn’t have.

 “Of course,” the waitress spits, and sweeps away.

 This close to midnight, Lily’s fairly confident they’d like to shut up shop shortly. She tears her eyes away from the frankly excessive amount of wine sitting full in front her, and glances around the previously bustling dining hall. She almost, almost pegs herself as the last diner, but there’s a man about her age on the other side of the room. He has a dozen or so desserts scattered around him, each as untouched as every one of her wine glasses. He gives her a tight smile as they make eye contact, and turns back to his food, pensive. Lily does the same.

She could call Petunia, but the thought of being a further £250 in debt to her sister’s beastly husband is even less appealing than the prospect of management throwing her into a cellar and skinning her alive.

 The waitress returns with a glass of chardonnay or something else Lily has never quite liked, and places it down on the table with a little too much force. They both watch the spillage seep into the tablecloth for a moment, then the waitress strides off in a huff.

 A part of Lily still hopes for the return of one of her party, though she knows it’s a lost cause. She should have expected it – Severus’ new friends aren’t exactly the honourable type. This is, she realises with a horrific dawning, the only reason she was invited at all. Exams-are-over celebration my arse.

 She deserves this, doesn’t she? Mary and her used to do the exact same thing on double dates that went wrong. God, they didn’t even have to speak to know when to excuse themselves, they’d just share a look that said ‘oi, this is a bit shit, isn’t it?’ and they’d bolt.

 She’s been doing the maths over and over in her head for the last hour and twenty minutes, and even with the hundred pounds in her account, the seventy five in her wallet isn’t going to cut it. How the fuck did Severus’ mates manage to rack up the cost to four hundred pounds? Did they order their food laced with cocaine?

 “Miss, you need to pay. Now,” the waitress hisses, and she’s flanked by the entire serving staff.

 “Yes,” Lily agrees faintly. “Yes, of course, you’re absolutely right,” and the noose tightens around her neck, “I just – my friends all left, you see, they thought it was funny, I suppose, and I don’t have quite enough to cover the bill, so if you’ll let me call my sister so she can…” Whatever the opposite of convincing is, Lily is apparently it, because her waitress looks thoroughly unimpressed with the story. It’s true, Lily wants to yell, I’m not making this up!

 “If you won’t pay,” and Lily notes the use of the word won’t rather than can’t, “I’m going to have to call the police.”

 “Is there a problem?” and Lily just about jumps out of her skin as she whips around to see who it is. It’s the man with the desserts, apparently having made his decision, finally on his way out. “Are you short on your bill?”

 Lily gives a small nod, cheeks burning, trying not to let the gravity of the whole situation crush her. Her humiliation is up to her neck, her chin, her ears, she’s drowning, oh god is she drowning. They’re going to call the police, and she’s going to go to prison, and she’s never going to get hired, because what school’s going to hire a twenty-three year old with a criminal record?

 “I clearly can’t let you call the police on her,” the man says, and shoots Lily an honest to god winning smile. “Look, she’s distraught. Add her bill to mine.”

 “I can’t let you do that,” Lily says, automatically, and god, Lily, why can’t you let your morals go for twenty fucking seconds?

 She couldn’t see him properly from the other side of the hall, but up close he’s quite a looker, with rectangular glasses perched carelessly on his long, thin nose, and thick black hair that’s just begging to be played with, and stop it, Lily.

 “I’m not paying for your meal, I’m spotting you the money, and you’ll pay me back when you can. Add it to my bill,” he says to the waitress, and her expression softens at his insistence.

 “Of course, sir,” she says, and he could be made of sunshine by the way she looks at him.

 “I mean, it’s not your fault your friends dined and dashed on you,” he’s saying, and Lily snaps back to attention, “and I have the money.” His hazel eyes twinkle and maybe he is made of sunshine.

 “Are you absolutely sure?” She grabs his elbow as he begins to reach into his coat pocket, “One thousand percent sure?”

 “One thousand and ten percent sure,” he assures her, and she smiles despite herself.

 “Alright,” she laughs. “Alright.”

 “James,” he says, and she takes his long fingered hand, wondering vaguely if he’s any good at piano.

 “Lily.”

 “Excellent. Beatrice, add Lily’s bill to mine.”

 The server nods as she takes his credit card, and James turns back to Lily. “I say we down this wine as soon as, then we can get out of here before Bea sells us to some shoddy black-market op. What were you planning on doing with it all, anyway?” he says, taking a sip of whatever was closest to him, and grimacing.

 “Well,” and her face burns red, “I was sort of hoping if I stalled for long enough, one of them would come back.”

 “Not very good friends, are they?”

 “They’re not actually my friends,” Lily admits.

 “Ah yes, a phenomenon I know well. I get invited to dinner then everyone drifts out without me noticing because oh, James’ll pick up the bill. James is frankly quite sick of it,” and something in his tone pushes his accent from upper class to posh.

 “If you knew they weren’t coming back, why’d you order so many deserts?”

 “Ah,” he starts, his brown cheeks darkening considerably. “Yes, that. A friend of mine adores the desserts they do here, and I couldn’t decide which he’d like best. I’d just made up my mind to take them all, because I have another pair of friends who’ll eat the left overs anyway, doesn’t matter, I’m rambling. Anyway, I was on the way out, and I saw you were sitting alone, and, and I assure you I mean this in the least creepy possible way, I had to make sure you weren’t about to get arrested.”

 “Which I was.”

 “Which you were, so lucky thing I was here.”

 “Lucky thing,” Lily agrees drily.

 “I like to help out where I can. Beatrice,” he calls, and she reappears, holding his card. “Would it be possible to wrap up the desserts for Remus? Only he couldn’t make it tonight, unfortunately.”

 “Of course, sir.”

 “Excellent. Now, Lily,” and he hands her a glass of wine, “if you drink it fast it barely tastes awful. Assuming, of course, that you have no objections to a bit of mild intoxication.” Lily takes the glass, clumsily, and she might have jumped out of her skin when their fingers brushed against each other just now. “Quickly, quickly, before Olivia gets too cross.”

 They’re giggling when Beatrice reappears again, with an ornate box, which she refuses to hand to James, no matter how much he tries to grab it. “I’m sorry, sir. Olivia says I’ve got to personally deliver it to your car. She doesn’t want tiramisu all over the foyer. Again.”

 James snorts loudly, and Lily can’t help but laugh along. She follows James, who follows Beatrice, who leads them out of the dining hall, and they’re halfway to the garage before Lily stops dead in her tracks. James spins around with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

 “Severus drove me here.”

 “Oh. Do you want me to drive you home?”

 “You’ve just had five glasses of wine,” Lily points out, and James gives her this really blank stare and oh god, did she just hallucinate the entire thing? But dawning makes its way onto his face in an instant, and he laughs, bright and clear.

 “I have a driver!” he laughs, and she smiles too, but it’s sort of like, what the fuck.

 “You have a driver.”

 “I don’t even know how to drive,” he says, frowning. This seems to be more for his own benefit than hers. “I’m twenty-three and I can’t drive. What if I’m being chased by the police and I need to get away? I can’t!”

 “You have a driver,” Lily says again, and he looks at her like he’s just remembered they were having a conversation.

 “Yes.”

 “You’re like, a prince, or something. Aren’t you?”

 “Or something,” he says, eyes twinkling even when faced with her scrutiny.

 “I don’t live that far away, honestly, I’ll just walk.”

 “You’re going to walk, alone, through London at half past midnight? No.”

 “No?” Lily asks, raising an eyebrow dangerously.

 “I’ll walk you. No, it’s fine! I’ll call an uber or something from your house. Settled, let’s go.”

 “You don’t have to,” Lily says, but she’s already reaching for his hand.

 “I want to,” and he’s leading the way onto the street. She turns to their left and he follows, dreadfully, tripping a wide arc to come back by her side. It’s almost a dance, would be a dance (if they were a little more sober).

 “How many times did that waitress call you sir? Like, fuck.”

 “Happens a lot when people know you primarily for the size of your bank account.”

 “How come you’re so rich, anyway? Everyone knows your mid-twenties are for being dirt poor!”

 “Blame my parents. They were rich, ipso facto…”

 “Were? What happened to their riches?”

 “Nothing. The riches are fine, they’re just dead.”

 “Right. Sorry.”

 “No, they were old,” he says quietly, and she squeezes his hand, “I mean, I wish they weren’t dead, obviously, but…”

 “My dad died too,” Lily offers.

 “Sucks, huh?”

 “Yeah,” she sighs. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just pulls her closer when a group of teenagers leers at them, and she smiles softly at him. “I never knew this walk could be so nice,” she whispers, and he smiles back down at her. “I’d never have spoken to anyone like you, never in a million years.”

 “Because I’m so intimidatingly handsome?”

 “Yeah, that’s it. That’s definitely it. “

 “I get it a lot. The only people who want to talk to me are other rich people and… well, I guess that is how I met my best friend, actually, so it mustn’t be a completely bad thing.”

 “You ramble, you know that?”

 “I’ve been told.”

 She laughs, and it strikes her that she’s done that a lot since she met him.

 1:21. “I’m on the left here.” She drops his hand, but it’s only because her front gate requires both of hers to be opened. She stands in her tiny front garden, and she can’t think of anything funny or cool or witty say. “You’re good company.”

 “Good you think so, because you’re going to be seeing a lot of me from now on.” Lily frowns, confused. James cottons on, and grins. “I know where you live, and you owe me about 400 quid. And, of course, you’re really quite pretty.” She kisses him without really thinking, but it’s right, him bracing himself on her gate as he leans forward to meet her, and her backlit by her porch light.

 They break apart when the most expensive car the neighbourhood’s ever seen pulls up to the kerb. “You had your car follow us?” she asks.

 He just smiles, a broad and honest thing, and steps backwards, reaching into his pocket. “This is going to be the worst thing I’ve ever done, but here’s my number.” He hands her a card.

 A business card.

 “Oh my god,” she says, turning it over in her hand. He kisses her again, and disappears into the car. She waves as he speeds off, and looks back down at the card.

 James Potter, Potter Industries

 She laughs – of course he’s James Potter. The laugh echoes down the now-empty street, and Mary’s light flicks on upstairs.

 “That you, Lil?” she shouts out the window.

 “Yeah!”

 “You alright?” Her head pokes through the lace curtain, concern apparent on her face. “You sound like a loon.” Lily just laughs, laughs as she pulls out her key. “Lil?” Mary calls down the stairs as the door clicks shut.

 “Yeah. Yeah, I’m great Mare. I’m on cloud fucking nine.”