#Spooky Month Back to the Golden Old Days

[mafer8503]

ABOUT Spooky Month

I will try to make better references to present my AUs and OCs but it is a small presentation and later I will present both things better.

AU´s

Spooky Month: Sweet Home (Poisonwine AU)

Spooky Month: Back to the golden old days (Au pre SpookyMonth)

OC's

Victoria Anne Müller “Tori” (Sectarian)

Dominic Thompson “Señor Detective”

Giny Blossom "Miss Green" (Happy Fella Show)

Charles J. Douglas “Charlie/ Mothman”

F (Happy Fella Show)

 [CENSORED]

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

hiiii, omg i would absolutely adore more of vampire rhysand fics, especially from that universe you created with them all vampires, will there be more? maybe when reader is turned, she can finally take both azriel and rhysand👀👀👀 or maybe to explore rhysand's relationship with her maybe nesta or someone from her family sneak in to the ball to steal reader back but rhysand is like nu uh tf

those are just some of the ideas that popped into my head, i love your writing and your smut💖

You must be psychic because I had literally just opened up a Word Document to try and write another Vamp!Rhys fic but couldn't figure out where to start!

I've got some ideas, and was thinking about doing some Monster Themed Fics for Spooky Season (More Vamp!Rhys + Bat Boys, maybe a Werewolf or Demon AU) if I can get my thoughts in order enough. Until then, pls enjoy a possessive!vamp!Rhys ;)

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Mine

Content Warnings: Slight SMUT, Possessive!Rhys, Blood and Gore

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“I’m bored,” Rhysand says by way of greeting, as he throws his lythe body onto the chase across from where you sit, curled up in a reading chair in the library.

 The sun sets behind you, the golden rays peeking in through the blackout curtains that usually remain closed during the day. Most of the horde sleeps through the day, meaning, if you let your body’s natural rhythm guide you, you have the entire manor to yourself. And of course, you use most of that time to peruse the thousand year old vampire’s massive collection of books. There’s so many organized on the floor to ceiling shelves you’re not even sure you’re promised immortality will give you enough time to read all of them--that doesn’t stop you from trying, however.

The vampire lord remains in the shadows of the library, the crack of sunlight just far enough away to not burn his otherwise unbreakable skin. Sometimes you think it’s a shame he can only go out at night, while it’s true he looks his best under moonlight, the golden hue of the fading sun makes his bronze skin glow like a god. You’re tempted to set down the book in your hands and climb into his lap, unbutton the already half open shirt and run your tongue over every golden inch of him. Time has not dulled the need you feel for him, even after all these months, he’s still as tempting as he was the first time you laid eyes on him. 

“There are a number of things you can do in this manor,” you say, ignoring your instincts and going back to the fantasy romance you’ve been devouring for the last hour. In truth, the smut on the page before you might also play into why your mouth is practically watering at the sight of him. You’re right at the good part, and your mind is torn between finishing the chapter and indulging your own fantasies with the very real, and very eager, vampire before you.

“Not entertaining enough,” he whines. 

Your eyes still on the page as you try and think of something to offer him. He hasn’t been able to throw another ball in nearly a month, not after a group of vampire hunters had come rolling into town. Their presence had been tiresome and even Azriel, for all his talents had not been able to figure out who’d tipped them off and brought them around. Rhys had initiated an indoor ban on the whole horde just to keep everybody safe. That meant for the most part, everyone had been living off of sheep’s blood and well, you. Mostly the sheep’s blood though. Rhys had threatened to keep you locked in his room, for only his enjoyment if Azriel didn’t stop leaving so many bite marks in your thighs--his favorite place to feed from you apparently. There were more than enough bite marks across your throat to give the others pause before they tried to drink from you these days. And it hadn’t helped that Cass had snuck out and nearly been caught, drinking from a barmaid in an alley three nights ago. Everyone was on edge. 

You glance up at him over the top of the worn pages in your hands. He keeps an arm thrown over his eyes, as if, even the little bit of sunlight filtering passed is enough to hurt him. Aside from that, he lays with one long leg tossed over the back of the couch, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned, the swirl of ink across his chest on full display. His dark hair is tousled, falling messily over his forehead. He had to have come directly here from his bedroom.

You look back down at the paragraph you were reading, the spicy scene practically leaping off the page at you, then back up to him as you bite your lower lip in thought. It’s usually him that initiates your interactions, him that dictates how and where  you take him. You don’t mind. Truth be told, you love being able to let go of everything and let him dominate you in whatever way he sees fit. It is the height of your pleasure, knowing he could so easily break you, and yet he doesn’t. You think meeting him might actually have put some pieces of your soul back together, rather than shatter them further and you love him all the more for it. And now, in that freedom, you can’t help but wonder if there are still other things to explore?

“We could play a game?” You suggest, voice softer than you mean it to be. Neither of you have ever talked about switching things up. Why mess with a good thing, right? But he’s here, asking, and the idea is literally in your hands as you speak, like fate prompting you to try something new and exciting. It can’t hurt to ask, right? He’s never denied you anything before.

Rhys spreads two fingers over his face, so you catch a glimpse of one, gleaming, violet eye. A grin spreads across his handsome features, fangs glinting in the scarce few rays of sunlight left. There will be nothing but starlight here soon, the plain of existence made solely for him. The others may live in the dark, but it is Rhys who thrives in it. “I’m listening.”

You draw a shaky breath. It’s just a question. No harm can come from a question. But how exactly do you suggest… this? You glance down at the pages again, trying to see if they even gave it a name for you to offer him, but there’s nothing but the promise of pleasure blurring across the pages.

Gathering your courage, you unfurl your legs from beneath you and cross the distance so you can climb onto his lap. Those thighs might have been made just for you, muscle shifting to let you get comfortable as his hands settle on your hips. He sighs contentedly, like this is something he’s been missing as you settle your weight against him.

“I was reading this book and these characters are…” you scrunch your face, trying to explain without sounding crass and failing. A blush works its way up your cheeks as you shove the open book into his hands. “Maybe you should just read it.”

He takes his time, tongue slipping out to wet his full lips as he reads. You count every breath he takes in the silence, watching his face with rapt attention to try and gauge what he’s thinking about it. He’s a master of schooled expressions, always collected and together, but after all these months, you like to think you know his tells. Yet, as he reads, there is no gleam in his eye, no obvious indication of arousal from where you sit over his hips. There is nothing but careful calculation as he reads--and maybe rereads, judging by the time it takes him--the pages.

Finally he closes the book and sets it down on the floor. “You’re suggesting we do that?” 

It’s hard to identify if that is amusement or irritation in his voice and you find your heartbeat quickening regardless of which it is. “I-if you want.”

“That’s not what I asked, Little One,” he tuts, hands resuming their rightful place on your hips. His thumbs stroke gentle circles into your skin, a move that can turn either teasing or cruel at a moment's notice. 

“I don’t know, you said you were bored. I thought maybe, you know, since we haven’t had a ball in awhile you might want to…” the word sticks in your throat and you swallow as the intensity of his gaze pins you in place. “You know… hunt.”

His eyes light up at the word. “And you want me to hunt you?”

Your thighs clench involuntarily at the thought, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed in the slightest. He grins wolfishly, gaze pinned to where your hips rest over his. He could have you right here, like this and he knows it. All it would take is a couple rocking motions of his hips, a slide of his fingertips beneath the thin silk of your top, teasing up bare skin until he can play with your breasts and you’d surrender. He could drink his fill and take you just as you are, right here and now. But there’s no challenge in it, no fun to be had, and he wants you to tell him you want it. Want him like that.

You’d be a liar if you said you’d never thought about what he would feel like if he let loose his control and showed you just how much a monster he was capable of being. You knew that even if he lost his usual composure, he would never hurt you. Even his basest instincts would balk at the thought of causing you pain. If you said you wanted it, he would make sure that you enjoyed every minute of it.

“Yes,” you say softly.

He sits up, swinging his legs onto the floor, moving you with him. His hands slide over your hips to your ass, squeezing playfully as you squeal in surprise over the sudden shift in position. “What are the rules to this game then?”

Your heartbeat quickens in your chest. You’re actually going to do this.

“I want a ten minute head start,” you say slowly, mind spinning. 

He hums as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Done. What else?”

“No going past the gardens.” There is enough yard between the manor and the perimeter walls that you could still feel like you were outside without risking an encounter with a hunter. 

“Agreed,” he kisses the opposite corner of your mouth.

“If you catch me-”

“When I catch you,” he says, lips pressing to my chin.

“If you catch me before the end of the hour,” that gives him a total of thirty minutes before the clock chimes, “then…” It’s not like you’ve never talked dirty before, but still, your cheeks are a deep set of red as you say, “then I am yours to do with what you wish.”

His eyes gleam, fangs glinting as he leans back and grins like he’s already won. “And if I say I want to be so deep inside you that every sorry hunter for miles will know your mine regardless of where I find you?”

You clench your thighs again, or attempt to, this new position in his lap doesn’t give you a lot of room to do so. “If you can find me.”

He slides you effortlessly off his lap, but you find, given the nature of the way he’s looking at you, that your legs feel weak already. “You should get going. You’ve only got ten minutes, Darling.”

You waste precious time leaning down to capture his lips in a quick kiss, but you don’t care. Every kiss, every touch is worth the lost time. He is a promise of endless time, of boundless freedom and new adventures, time is never wasted with Rhys.

He pulls away with some difficulty. “I’m still counting,” he warns.

You grin as you turn and sprint out the library, leaving the doors wide open as you run. It occurs to you now that you’ve never actually seen him hunt outside a ballroom. There’s a lot of strategy to those hunts, as you’ve observed, but he’s never had to chase anything. He’s like a spider, waiting patiently for his prey to get caught and stuck in his web for him to devour. You don’t actually know how fast or strong he is. He certainly has a heightened sense of smell, but how heightened?

You know you want to make it outside, just to let him feel like he’s getting out of the house, but going straight out the back door would be too easy. You run up the stairs to the second floor instead, then into one of the many empty rooms and unlatch the window. This might waste more of your precious time, but still, you’re curious to know if he’ll save time and run right out the door, or if he can actually follow your scent. 

Carefully, you climb onto the roof and pick your way across the slanting tiles, until you reach the side of the manor where tree branches reach for you. The gardens outside the estate are massive, their own little forest, and with the gates closed, the gardeners haven’t been around to trim the trees. Branches that would normally be clipped to keep the leaves from collecting on the roof have been allowed to blossom and you find a sturdy one and nimbly walk across it like a balance beam. He may be the expert hunter here, but you spent years outside the Spring Estate, back when your parents were still alive, exploring the massive gardens and climbing the trees. Until your Governess had dragged you back by the ear, yelling about your ripped skirts and scraped knees. Hardly the lifestyle of a lady, they’d said. You couldn’t care less now as you climb, hand over hand through the dense leaves, moving from tree to tree. This is familiar yet different, you are far more free here than you had ever been back home.

Anticipation sits hot and heavy in your lower belly as you move. It’s hard to tell how much time you have left and you need to decide if the plan is to just keep moving or to hunker down and hide in wait. 

When the trees start to thin, you finally clamber down onto the damp floor below and take a good look around. There are certainly plenty of bushes to hide under, but that feels… boring. 

You glance over your shoulder, the trees blocking out the moonlight that has now replaced the earlier sun. Shadows cling to the trees providing ample cover, for both you and the predator you know is coming. 

You bite your lip. You want it to be a challenge. So you keep moving, ears straining for any little sound that might indicate your ten minutes is up. Every rustle of leaves makes a shiver run up your spine, heart thundering beneath your ribs. It’s a heady sort of rush that makes you laugh as you break into a full on sprint, wind tearing at your loose hair. 

This is freedom. Unbridled and unrestrained, there are no limits on what you can do or want, and right now, you want exactly what he promised you.

You slow to catch your breath, the trees thinning as you come closer to the hedge maze on the far side of the property. There’s usually a whole slew of string lights bobbing overhead, so partygoers can see past the towering hedges full of roses and attempt to find the bubbling water fountain at the center of the maze. It’s a showstopper when lit, but right now, it is dark and unyielding and you inch your way towards it with more than a little trepidation. It would be a good place to make him walk through to get to you, but some of the hedges are so thick and overgrown it blocks out the light, and you do not have the night vision of vampires, not yet.

A twig snaps behind you and you jump with a hand clamped over your mouth to keep from screaming as you turn to face the noise. There’s enough moonlight to see by out here, but there is no familiar shape stalking towards you. There’s nothing there at all but the trees and the maze at your back.

You give yourself a little shake to calm your nerves as you inch backwards towards the opening of the maze, still anticipating Rhys’s sudden arrival. One step back, then another, until you can almost feel the shadow of the hedges against your back. It’s a degree colder within it than outside of it.

The first bit of darkness covers your entrance.

And it covered the hiding place too, because you hadn’t seen anyone or anything within the maze until a firm hand clamps over your mouth. Surprise makes you scream, the noise muffled beneath the weathered palm as a strong arm wraps around your waist. 

How the hell had he gotten behind you?!

Hot breath fans your ear as he puts his lips to your ear. “Scream, and you’re dead.”

That’s not Rhys’s voice at all!

Panic grips you and you have just enough presence of mind to fight, digging your elbow into the stranger’s soft gut, throwing your head back into his shoulder. You twist and claw and bite down on the hand covering your mouth so hard you taste blood.

“You little bitch!” The stranger snarls, his hand slipping off your mouth.

You don’t have time to spit out the blood as you scream, “RHYS!!!” As loud as you can.

The stranger grabs your hair and spins you, face scraping over a cluster of thorny roses that cuts open your cheek as you fight to keep your footing. You stumble, but before you can hit the ground, another rough set of hands grabs your arm and yanks, pulling you deeper into the darkness of the maze. 

“Get off me!” You shout, your game forgotten. There is nothing but wild panic in your blood as you claw and punch at the hands that pull you deeper and deeper into the maze. 

Rhys can find you in here, right? He knows this isn’t part of the game?

Blood trickles down the wound in your cheek, following a trail down your neck and chest as your head whips around to try and get a good look at your attacker. He’s not much taller than you, but he’s twice as large, his arms made of thick, corded muscle. A spiderweb of scars travels up the bare expanse of his right arm, but he has no other defining features you can see in the darkness.

The second remains in the dark as they drag you through the maze. They must have been here awhile, if they know their way through it. In no time at all, you find yourself at the maze’s heart, the fountain that’s usually so dazzling at parties remains full of stagnant water and dead leaves. Sitting on the lip of it are another two men, one carrying a sword and another wearing a bandolier full of wooden stakes. Hunters.

Your mouth dries, heart skipping a beat. No no no! This can’t be happening! How’d they get past the gate? Rhys had it made by some local witches, it was supposed to be spelled to keep hunters out!

“Y/N?”

The world narrows in to the sound of that voice, as the body attached rounds the fountain. The sliver of moonlight cuts through the overgrown shrubs, highlighting the swatch of blonde hair, carefully tied back from a face that looks so similar to your own. 

Though you have no fangs of your own, you pull your lips back in a snarl as Tamlin draws nearer. “You did this?” You hiss at your brother.

He looks older, tired. Emerald eyes framed by dark circles. It’s been months since you’ve seen him. Months since he sent someone to tell you not to bother coming home since you’d ruined yourself with Rhys. Based on the stories you’d heard, he’d trashed the manor in a fit of rage when he’d found out he could no longer auction you off like a mare to be wed and bred by some stuffy, old baron or count.

He takes you in, nose crinkling as he spots the hickeys littering your throat. You’re not wearing anything more than a pair of lounge shorts and a silk top, an outfit that had felt appropriate a moment ago but now, based on the judgment and leering of the hunters, feels poorly out of place.

It’s an effort not to try and cover yourself, to stand there, blood still dripping from your cheek and keep your chin up.

“Where is he?” Tamlin demands. 

Shit. Shit. Shit! Of course he’s not here for you, he’d made it clear you were as wanted as a wadded up gum wrapper. He--they--are all here for Rhys. 

“Who?” You play dumb, trying to buy time. Rhys is walking right into a trap and if you don’t think of something quick…

“Don’t play dumb!” Tamlin snarls. “I know you’ve been whoring yourself out to that blood sucker!”

He can’t know that Rhys is the town’s vampire, there’s no way. Every person that leaves the manor is compelled to forget everything they saw. The whole horde is meticulous, Az has even followed people home to ensure the protection of the den. 

When you don’t respond, he says, a little gentler this time, “Tell me where he is, Y/N, and I will consider this whole mess a compulsion on his part and not hold it against you. We’ll go home and find somewhere safe for you to live. There’s a temple that will take in ruined women…”

You’re seeing red. “Nobody fucking ruined me! It is my body! What I do with it is none of your business!”

He frowns. “Nesta thought you might have been compelled, I didn’t want to believe that you were so weak minded that it could happen to you, but now that I see you…”

Nesta. Your stomach twists itself into knots. She was supposed to be your best friend, and yet she had gone to Tamlin and he’d called the hunters. She must have seen Rhys drinking from you that first night after all. In her rush, she’d pissed off Cass, who had been so distracted with her leaving he’d distracted Az from following her home. She’d gotten out of the den knowing what they all were and Tamlin had spent all this time summoning these hunters. 

The betrayal stings worse than the cut on your cheek, your eyes burning despite your attempts to keep it all bottled up. You can’t cry here! Not in front of them. The four hunters hover near the exits, blocking your escape, but keeping watch for Rhys all the same. They all have stakes. They’re all clearly fighting men, all capable of taking on an unsuspecting vampire. 

“Don’t do this, Tam,” you whisper. If anything happens to Rhys… If they get their hands on him because you suggested going outside the manor, you’re never going to forgive yourself.

“You forced my hand!” Tamlin snarls, advancing a step towards you. “You went and made a mess of things as always! If mom were still alive she would have keeled over and had a heart attack from the strain of having you for a daughter.”

The words hit like a slap. He’d always been good at that; when he couldn’t use his size and strength, his words were just as sharp as a blade, and he’d used them to keep you in line for years. Even now, the freedom you had so desperately craved feels like it’s slipping through your fingers. You feel your shoulders hunch, chin dipping towards your chest. He’s always been so terribly good at making you feel small and useless and so terribly unwanted. Even now, your own flesh and blood isn’t here to make sure you’re alright, he’s here to prove himself a hero by killing a vampire. Your vampire.

Figures, as soon as you’d found something to love, Tamlin found another way to rip it from you.

Seeing a weakness, Tamlin stalks towards you, his footfalls heavy in the damp earth. He reaches out a hand to grab you, but before he can so much as brush a fingertip over your arm, his body flies backwards like it’s been tossed by an invisible hand. He hits the statue guarding the water fountain so hard the old angel’s head falls from it’s stone shoulders. 

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Rhys snarls so loud the ground shakes. He’d come in silently, stealthy as a cat. The power that radiates off him is nothing like the demure courtier you see in the ballroom, there is nothing subtle or charming about this Rhys. There is only cold, unyielding rage as he moves around you faster than your eyes can track. You don’t even have time to warn him about what the hunters are armed with before he uses his teeth to rip the throat out of the first man. Blood splatters across his face as the hunter falls. Another blink at the second falls, his heart still beating from where Rhys holds it in his fist.

The third hunter has just enough time to slide a stake out of its sheath and lunge, but Rhys is so much faster and stronger, there is no contest. He snags the hunter’s wrist, snapping the bone so hard his wrist twists backwards, the stake now aimed at the hunter’s heart. His own momentum keeps him moving forward, even as he screams in terror, and he impales himself on his own stake. Rhys hurls the body into the thorny hedges, leaving it to bleed out as he turns to face the fourth and final hunter. 

It's the one that had grabbed you initially, his thin lips pulled back in a sneer as he flips two stakes around in his large hands. 

“You think you can waltz into my domain,” Rhys seethes. There’s an eerie calm to his steps now, blood dripping from his fingers, splattering the trampled grass. “And try and take what is mine?”

Rationally, you know you should be terrified of him like this--this is who he really is, not the courtly mask and disarming smiles you know, this is a full-fledged vampire in all his glory--but you’re not. Not even a little bit. If anything, the sight of him makes you feel like you can breathe again. 

“I’ve killed worse things than you,” the hunter spits. “You won’t even be a challenge.”

Rhys cocks his head like he’s thinking, a grin spreading across his face. His fangs are longer than you’ve ever seen them, poking into his lower lip, where the first hunter’s blood still lingers. “Is that so?”

He takes a small step forward, and though the hunter’s fingers twitch around the stakes, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink. He stands still as a statue, his chest barely rising and falling. Almost like he can’t move at all.

Rhys reaches out and plucks the stakes from the hunter’s hands like he’s taking a toy from a belligerent child. The hunter doesn’t move; doesn’t speak in his own defense. 

Rhys lifts the stake to get a better look at it in the moonlight. “These are poorly made,” he tuts, right before he jams it between the hunter’s eyes. The man falls, still completely immobile.

“You’re a fucking monster,” Tamlin hisses from where he’s still struggling to get back to his feet. 

Rhys slides the hand not dripping blood into his pocket, appearing bored as he puts a boot on Tamlin’s shoulder and pushes him back down into the mud. “Humans are so very dull.”

“Yet you keep my sister like a fucking pet!” Tamlin snarls, trying to rise again and losing the battle as Rhys’s heel pushes down against his shoulder until the bone snaps. “You compelled her into being with you and have been keeping her here against her will.”

You stare at the two of them. Rhys is holding back now, toying with Tamlin--the brother that had locked you up, had insisted your Governess cut your meals in half to keep you thin and desirable for a suitor; the brother who had ignored your wishes your whole life and had stolen almost every bit of happiness you had tried to carve out for yourself. Only one of them is the monster here.

“Nobody compelled me into staying,” you hiss. “Nobody compelled me into doing anything! I chose it.”

Tamlin tilts his head to look at you, despite the pain flashing across his face. “He just used his powers to freeze a man in place, you’re too stupid to know if he used them on you.”

Rhys moves his boot from Tamlin’s shoulder to his wrist, heel crushing down until the bone splinters, the resounding crack echoing through the maze. “Try that again,” he dares. 

Tamlin’s howls of pain have somehow not drawn everybody else outside, but you are relieved to see it. As much as you want him out of your life forever, you’re not up for watching them all devour him like a turkey at a Sunday roast. 

You pick your way around the mess of bodies until you can grab Rhys’s hand, the blood now cold and sticky over his palm. You do not balk from it. This is still your Rhys. He is still what you would choose, if you could go back to that first night on the dancefloor. Bargain or no bargain, you would have come back time and time again, to be with him and this family you have made for yourself here. This is the life you want, messy and full of monsters.

Rhys glances down at your joined hands, yours so small and delicate against the mess of his own.

You intertwine your fingers. “Please don’t kill him.”

He reaches out with his free hand to run a thumb over your ruined cheek, checking how deep the cuts are. “Why not?”

“Can he be compelled to forget about all of us? Can you make it so that we never existed?”

“Y/N!” Tamlin screams. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“I could,” Rhys admits. “Is that what you want?”

“I want to be with you,” you say confidently. “As a human or a vampire.”

Tamlin tries to move out from under Rhys’s boot but gets nowhere.

“I want him to no longer have control of my life. I want to be free to choose where I go and who comes with me. I am angry at him. I’ve been angry at him my whole life. But… but I don’t want him dead.”

Rhys nods, then brushes a tender kiss over your forehead. “It’ll be done then.”

Azriel appears from the shadows then, as if he’d been hovering somewhere in the maze just in case. That intense hazel gaze sweeps over you, taking stock of your injuries before he hauls Tamlin to his feet. 

Your brother still tries to fight it, but his right arm hangs limp and twisted at his side, and even if he was whole, he’s no match for either of them. 

Rhys takes Tamlin’s chin between his forefinger and thumb, holding him in place with just those two fingers alone. “Any last words, Darling?”

You flash your middle finger at Tamlin, “If you come back through these gates, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

“Vicious,” Azriel praises, tongue running over his lower lip in appreciation to this new side of you. 

Rhys keeps his attention pinned to Tamlin. “You’ll return home. You’ll forget this vampire business. You went out and got drunk and got your ass handed to you by the barmaid.”

Azriel snickers at that. 

You’ve seen that barmaid, she very well could hand Tamlin his ass, the story will be convincing. 

“If anyone asks about your sister, you’ll tell them she ran away to be with the people that love her. There is no need to look for her. She is happy.”

And you are. Your chest warms at the words. You are happy here. You will always be happy here, with this new family you’ve found. 

Tamlin repeats the words in monotone, like they’re being forced out of his head.

“You’ll have to find and compel Nesta too,” you say softly. “She saw us that first night.”

“Leave it to Cass to put us in this mess,” Azriel grumbles. “I should make him compel her for the trouble.”

“He’d just turn her for shits and giggles and then we’d be in bigger trouble,” Rhys responds as he releases his grip on Tamlin. Your brother’s head sags to his chest, unconscious, and Azriel drags him out through the back gate.

“It’s done?” You ask, watching them leave.

“It’s done,” Rhys confirms. 

You turn to face him again and stretch up on your toes to kiss him gently on the lips, despite the blood. “Thank you.”

When you try to pull away, he slides a hand into your hair and pulls you back for another, ravenous kiss. “Are you all right?”

“A little shaken,” you confess, reaching up a hand to brush a tendril of dark hair off his head. “But alright. Are you?”

He slides his arms beneath you and picks you up like you weigh nothing. “Let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll feel better.” 

In no time at all, you’re back safe inside the house, perched on top of the counter in the bathroom attached to his room. Candlelight flickers to give him a better view of the gash across your cheek, now forming a bruise beneath the split skin. 

“It doesn’t hurt too bad,” you assure. “Just stings a little.”

He frowns as he pokes at it, then brings his wrist up to his mouth and sinks his fangs into a vein. “Drink,” he orders, bringing it to your lips. “My blood will heal you.”

You stare at him for a moment. It has become an easy thing to accept that he likes to drink from you. He needs blood to live and you want him to keep on living, it is an easy exchange--and one that always ends pleasurably for you at that--but this is different. It’s not necessity. He’s offering because he wants to. Because he cares about you.

“Please,” he says gently, pushing his wrist a little closer. “Let me take care of you.”

You wrap your hand around his arm as you bring his wrist to your mouth, unsure of how to go about this. He holds you steady, pressing his wrist to your lips, guiding you through it like he has everything this far. His blood is a coppery tang in your mouth as you run your tongue over the two puncture marks in his wrist and swallow it down. 

By the time he pulls away, the stinging in your cheek has subsided. 

“It’ll taste better once you're one of us,” he explains as he grabs a towel and cleans the remaining blood off your skin.

You watch the slow pace in which he moves now, all that rage and strength once again contained within the confines of courtly manners, but there is a stiffness to those usually graceful motions. You can almost taste the unease coming off him as he uses the same towel to clean the blood off his own face and hands.

“You’re not changing your mind about turning me after this mess, are you?” 

He tosses the towel in the hamper near the door and comes to stand between your legs. You have to tilt your head back to look at him as he cups your face in his large hands. “Never.” The finality in his tone leaves no room for doubt. “I never wish to be parted from you again.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. This bargain between you is fun and exciting, and truth be told you are more fond of him than you’d ever dare say out loud, but you had always assumed those budding feelings were one sided. This was a game and a bargain at the end of the day, what was one human in the span of eternity to a thousand year old vampire? Daring to believe that you meant more to him was not a luxury you had let yourself indulge in.

“And I thought…” he shakes his head and kisses you gently at first, grounding himself in the reality that you are safe and in his arms, but it turns rough and desperate as he considers what he’s saying. “I thought I might lose you.”

You run your fingers through the silky strands of his hair, knocking a few loose leaves that had gotten caught when he’d come running after you. 

“If anything were to happen to you, I don’t…” he shutters as he slides his hands beneath you and lifts you off the counter, carrying you towards his large bed with ease despite the shakiness of his breathing.

 “I’ve killed thousands of hunters. I have drained entire covens of witches and packs of werewolves.” He lays you down in the center of the black silk sheets, body propped up against a dozen pillows someone who is undead doesn’t really need, his large frame kneeling over yours as he kisses you again. “I have fought and won hundreds of battles and taken down an army of other vampires. Bloodshed is in my nature. It is woven into the lifeblood of creatures like me. I am used to the killing, but I have never enjoyed it. I avoid it if I can, but tonight, when I saw those hunters around you…”

He steals another kiss, tongue sliding behind your teeth to try and claim your very breath as his weight settles between your legs. “I wanted to take my time. I wanted to make them pay for putting their hands on you. I enjoyed making them suffer. And I’d do it again.”

Perhaps the long lasting effects of being locked up has altered your brain chemistry, because such outright aggression should be a warning sign to run, but it makes heat flare in your chest instead. This is a dangerous amount of possessiveness and yet, you enjoy it. It is nice to be looked after so deeply.

“And I know that I should turn you,” he continues. “You have more than fulfilled your part of the bargain and after seeing those hunters today, I should give you an edge over them, just in case, but…” Another kiss, his hands slipping beneath your top to skim your sides. “But to turn you I have to… You have to die to become a vampire. How am I supposed to do that, knowing that it’ll hurt, even for a moment? Knowing that I will have to be the one to do it?”

Your fingers drift to the buttons of his shirt, slowly popping them open so you can touch him. “It doesn’t have to be today. We never set a time.”

“I saw that scratch on you and almost went out of my mind,” he says as he leans back enough to let you push the shirt off his shoulders, but as soon as the article is off he’s right back on top of you again, kissing you like he won’t ever get enough. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “I have never loved a human before. I have never been so conflicted before. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I’m just not ready to turn you yet either.”

Your hands skim up his tattooed torso, tracing every curve of ink up his chest and shoulders until you can cup his cheek. “You’re not going to lose me. Like I said, I choose you. I want to be here with you. Like this or otherwise. I am in no rush.”

He tilts his head and kisses your palm. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you assure, using your free hand to grab him behind the neck and pull him down for another kiss. “I trust you. When the time is right to turn me, we’ll know. It’ll feel right.”

His lips pull away from yours just long enough to catch your breath before he starts trailing kisses along your jaw and neck. You let yourself relax beneath his ministrations, eyes drifting shut. It no longer feels strange that this has become the place you feel safest; this is right.  

“I love you,” you say softly.

He all but purrs into your throat, the kiss he was placing there more forceful than the last. “Careful, that’s a dangerous thing to say to an immortal.”

“You said it first,” you counter, hands sliding off him to reach for the hem of your shirt. You want it off, no clothes between your bodies, the warmth of him like this seeping into your skin. There is no telling how different it’ll feel once you’re no longer human, you want to relish every experience you have while you still have it.

He nips teasingly at your throat, fangs just barely scraping your skin. Not enough to feed, but just enough to remind you they’re there. “What power you wield over me, Little Human.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” you reply.

He laughs at that, the sound rich and deep, and you think you might do just about anything to hear it again and again. “Be careful how you wield it, I would do anything you asked.”

“Anything?” You ask with a grin, a few things coming to mind. 

He nips at your throat hard enough to leave a bruise this time. “No questions asked.”

“So if I have other scenes in my books I want to try out…” 

“What a dirty little mind you have,” he tuts. “And when we didn’t even get to finish the first one.”

“That really is a shame,” you muse. “I was looking forward to it too.”

“Another night then,” he promises, his voice low and dangerous in your ear. “Tonight I want to take my time with you.”

And how can you say no to those kinds of promises?

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 14: Fantasy AU/Mundane AU

A/N: this one kinda screamed out to me with my love of bg3, i’ve been waiting eagerly all month for it! Also, cazador is more of an abusive stepfather rather than an all powerful vampire lord to fit with the mundane au part lol enjoy, guys! Spooky month continues!- mod ghost

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x GN!Tav

Summary: You teach Astarion how to enjoy the holidays, Halloween especially.

Astarion was never one to get into the spirit of holidays. Until he met you, that is. He never had much in the way of a loving family but you gave him a reason to celebrate. Someone who had more festive spirit than anyone he’d ever met, and who loved him so truly that it confused him sometimes. How on Earth could someone like you be so enamored with him, whose soul is so battered and bruised? 

“Astarion! Look at this one!” You called, pulling him forcefully out of his thoughts as you held a pumpkin up for him to see.

He chuckled softly as he looked at you with a fond expression, holding a pumpkin as big as your head excitedly, “Is that truly the one you want?” He answered, his gaze briefly going to the sweater you were wearing. It was cozy looking and it matched his, as you had insisted on being one of those couples that had lots of matching clothes. “Well, it’s gotta be big enough for us to carve together! Unless you want your own pumpkin to make rookie mistakes on,” you shrugged, closing the slight distance between you while still holding the rather large pumpkin. “Orrr, we could carve two together.” “And why exactly would we need two?” Astarion couldn’t help the fond laughter that escaped him as he spoke, wrapping an arm around your shoulders now that you were close enough, and continuing to walk through the pumpkin patch with you. 

“More pumpkin guts to make pie with, of course. Why else?” Before he could speak again, you added, “Minus the seeds, obviously.” “Right, obviously,” He nodded, unable to conceal the smile he had on his face. You just brought such unbridled joy to his life when you were with him, it was hard not to. “I think one pumpkin is enough, though, darling. We should really be getting back,” Astarion continued, leading you from the pumpkin patch now that you seemed to have one that you liked. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you don’t like being here, but trust me, it’s the most authentic experience. Getting some dinky little pumpkin from a grocery store just isn’t the same.” You let him lead you away regardless, though. You were good with the pumpkin you had, and you had so much more to show him. “I won’t lie, the dirt is getting to me, but I promised to let you show me how Halloween should really be and I’m a man of my word.” He replied in a soft voice, kissing the side of your head as you made your way to pay for the pumpkin. As you walked, the sunlight faded into more of a golden color that bathed the scene in a hazy glow. 

The two of you then headed back to the apartment you had been sharing for a while now, and it was still in the process of being decorated for Halloween, according to you. There was decor from one inch of the apartment to the other, but every time the two of you went out, you’d find a new decoration that you just had to have and that he didn’t have the heart to say no to. Well, not anymore, and especially not to you. Some would say that you turned him a bit softer than the lone wolf who snarled at anyone who came close to him that he was when you met him. He’d suffered for entirely too long, and you’d freed him from that in a way. You hadn’t exactly broken into his stepfather Cazador’s house and stolen him away in the night, but you’d pulled him out of the darkest point of his time after leaving his old house.

“Hey,” You gently grab his forearm from behind as he stood staring out at the rest of the apartment, “You okay?” “Yes, I’m...I’m alright. We’re going to carve that pumpkin now, right?” He turned his head to look at you as he spoke and saw you nod so he followed you into the kitchen. 

“Yeah, and we’re gonna make pumpkin pie and those spooky Pillsbury cookies while we carve the pumpkin!” You said excitedly as you dragged him into the kitchen, trying to lighten his mood by being cheerful. He’d talk about whatever was bothering him when he was ready, and you knew that.

While listening to a Halloween playlist you made, the two of you cut the stem off the pumpkin to create a hole to get all the pumpkin guts out, then started to make the filling for the pie with it. Minus the seeds, obviously. The cookies went in first, though, because they were supposed to be baked at a lower temperature than the pie and you were still assembling that anyway. With small breaks to make him dance around the kitchen with you, you successfully carved the pumpkin into a traditional looking jack-o-lantern, though the mouth on yours was a little more jagged than the ones that you usually saw in movies. 

“Are you sure it looks alright?” Astarion asked from the kitchen while he tilted the pumpkin in different ways to get a glance from different angles. You were setting up the TV while the pie finished baking as well as setting out one of the fluffiest blankets you owned on the couch. “It looks perfect! Stop fussing over it and get in here,” You rolled your eyes as you called back to him, glancing over at him as he finally set the pumpkin down and made his way over to you. 

“Alright, alright, what are we watching?” Astarion looked at the TV over your shoulder, his arm snaking around your waist as he asked. 

“Well, I wanted to give you a choice. Do you wanna go classic Halloween with a horror movie or would you rather something cute?” You asked as you leaned your head against his.

“I think I’ve had enough horror for one day from being in that filthy pumpkin patch earlier.” He teased, flopping onto the couch and pulling the blanket over himself. “Alright, Heartstopper it is.” You chuckled as you joined him, snuggling into his side as you pressed play on the first episode. “Heartstopper? That still sounds like horror to me.” He raised an eyebrow as his eyes flicked from the screen to your face then back. 

“It’s not, trust me. I think you’ll really like it.” You reassure him, taking his hand in yours under the blanket as the show starts to play. You spent the rest of the evening binging the first season while eating the pie and cookies together, so you assumed that you were right about him liking it.

[cconfusedkat]

Spooky month means spooky ideas and spooky ideas ??? Lead to AU's!! >:-D i was dwelling on it for a few months and wasn't really sure on how i wanted to create this up?? But nonetheless i managed :-]

"Vampyres of the Old Faith" is an AU centered around the sudden uprise of vampyr (which are the Bishops in this case) and the vampyre hunters intend to stop this revolt before it gets any worse !! This takes place in the eaaaarly 2000's ,,, so it's a modern au ,,, and is a little funny to consider that the vampyr are Old as hell and arent adapted well enough to modern society 😭😭

YIPPEE Now that i got that down here are the four main vampyres :-3c there is a Green Coven, Golden Coven, Blue Coven, and Purple Coven. Each vampyre is able to shapeshift into smaller forms—like how a vampyre can change into a bat—these four can turn into different animals !! Theyve all been alive for different amounts of time, yet 300 years ago they all managed to find eachother and create a pact of vampyr covens!!

Leshy is Def known as the cruelest and invasive one,, he does happen to be the only one to mess with the shaping and mirroring of reality,,,, which honestly is concerning the most 😭 throughout history people have claimed they've seen "a big tree creature walking and taking people's skin" ,,,, So the eldritch rumors are NOT very helpful for him-

Originally i wanted to give heket a hellhound form but i actually liked the snake form better :-] !! Deciding her outfit was a little complicated but ,,, i think it turned out well ? Hekets known for being the most angry and cold vampyre. Despite , yknow, using fire magick . HELP

Kallamar o kallamar !!! She is a siren and she stays only in the water :-) if her siblings needs to speak to her then they make sure to have a water circle in the middle of their meeting room so they can all talk with her there,,, kallamar is known for her manipulative tactics and ways of persuasion which help her catch and convert people into vampyrism

Lastly is our main coven leader Everyone knows that built up the ideas for a vampyre uprising would be none other thann Shamura 👍👍👍 known for their sadistic self and invincibility , using wind magick to get away with a variety of things in a literal snap of a finger ,,, because of being a vampyre longer than all of them they're uniquely the one with sensitivity to blood?? They can still take blood but they dont drink it as often as the other three do (minus the way leshy does it because he literally latches himself onto a victim's shoulder with his mouth ,,,, )

With all the vampyres in mind who are our hunters ???

Well here's the first three bigshots of the company >:-D Sozonius has been hunting and obtaining information about vampyr for years, narinder is fairly new to vampyr bounty hunting yet still exceeded the expectation of a regular bounty hunter (surprisingly the strongest 23 year old), and lamb only recently started researching the vampyr after they lost their mother to vampyrism,, they are mainly known for being a detective and trying to help people out with finding their lost family members or attempting to help revert a vampyr they found back into a mortal !!!!

The company (which im,,,, Honestly not sure of a name about still 😭 i dont know what to call it) has been a benefit to society more than they realize. The unmentioned references happen to be Forneus and Monch. The head scientist is Monch, and Forneus IS the founder of the company to hunt down vampyres! Shes lost her family to vampyrism all the same, especially her two sons (aym & baal) which were kidnapped by Shamura too since theyve stalked narinder and knew he had a fondness over those two kittens just as much as forneus did.

There are more roles within this universe,, ive also been trying to think of how many characters I could add into this,, BUT YEAH !!!! Something really silly and self indulgent over the past few days of making finalized refs for them :-D

Ive been kinda plotting out another secret story for Narinder on how *he* was the one who caused this sudden uprising,, how the betrayal of leaving his siblings caused them to rage in revolution,, but that can be for another time 🕺

[violetasteracademic]

Hey bestie, was just wondering when chapter two comes out 🙂‍↕️ been refreshing ur page once an hour for dayyyyyys. 💓

Hi my friend!! So funny you should ask, it will be ready to go up by early evening tonight! I will let you know as soon as it is posted! (I'm in US central time zone. So about 6-7 hours from now)

I'm so honored and delighted to have you reading the new fic 🥹 I don't like to share toooo much of my personal life on here because this fandom is sadly not always kind to artists and writers when it comes to the hostility of the ship wars, but I do want to give a heads up that A Court of Twisted Fate will not be coming out *quite* as fast as Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow. I blacked out and wrote almost 100k words of Golden Doe in a total disassociative bender in under a month and a half while I was in between homes, closing the final chapter of my old life after a long fought for divorce, and set aside my 10 year long business and career. I was in a weird little vortex and could easily get a chapter out every few days. I want to be honest with myself and all of you that I will not be able to match that pace right now without massively sacrificing on quality and thorough edits!

If I haven't said it enough, you guys truly have no idea what the response to Golden Doe meant to me. Writing that fic helped me survive a very difficult time. I had never written a fic before and didn't even have an ao3 account, I had to wait a few weeks to be allowed in. I had no idea anyone would read it, and sharing that story wound up being one of the most special and joyful times of my life, which seems impossible when I look back on what I was going through! I just... Thank you. I don't know what else to say. Thank you a million times, every day, forever.

I am starting life completely over in a new city and a 1940's bungalow that has had a few catastrophes since moving in 🫣 I'm hard at work job hunting in this nightmare economy and fixing up the urgent items in the house! So it's a different kind of busy filled with lots of fear and anxiety and mental exhaustion. Thus, I'm also trying to give myself lots of time to heal and recover. I'm hoping for a chapter once a week this round, but I might need some grace for up to two weeks!

This might be a good opportunity to answer some other questions I've gotten. Some have noticed the new rating is M instead of E. There WILL still be smut, but this is more of a dark and spooky old school style slow burn and very story forward. And while I hesitate to say the spice will be more vanilla, it is not as kink forward as Golden Doe! It will still be spicier and more detailed than what SJM would typically write (y'all she's tame in my book) but a different style. That being said, the piece is not finished. Sooooo.... 🦇 we'll see if kinky Azriel body snatches me again and demands that the spice be freakier and more frequent. In which case I'll update the rating.

Golden Doe started as an M rating and 15 planned chapters, and we all saw how that worked out!

I'm pushing myself to create a unique world and characters that are not just a carbon copy of Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow. Of course, it is still canon Elain and Azriel! But I'm focusing on different sides of them. I hope you all enjoy it just as much, but if it winds up not being your vibe, do know I have a few ideas bouncing around for Golden Doe continuations, additional Elriel fics, and my inbox is always open for ideas and prompts/requests!!

[colderdrafts]

2: Conference start

The Great Assembly, gender neutral reader x monster (male naga). Sfw. Previous Next

The weeks come and go as usual, until the date of the conference trip. You carpool with Irwin, and his driving consists of delicately dancing on the border of legal and illegal. Reckless enough to have an old lady yell profanities as he runs the yellow light, but not reckless enough to get arrested.

The radio idly plays a news broadcast on current events.

“- and in recent events, several persons have been reported missing in the previous months, a rise in cases enough of concern for authorities. We’ve met with Officer Rolan for a brief comment on the situation.”

“Thank you. It’s unfortunately not uncommon to see a rise in trafficking activities from time to time, and we happen to be in an influx. We advice people to be on their guard, report suspicious activity and stay close to trusted people when going out at night. Furthermore...-”

“Spooky shit,” Irwin comments, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

You vaguely remember hearing about this on the news before, though it seems there is indeed an influx of cases these days, with people unfortunately going missing.

Irwin salutes Officer Rolan speaking on the radio, and rudely interrupts him by switching channels until he finds an upbeat pop-song. “Let’s not dwell on that while we’re out, eh? We’re gonna have fun!”

You grin at him as he enthusiastically, and purposefully very much not in tune, starts singing along. You let him have his fun, and turn your attention to the GPS.

Apparently the mountain range sports a relatively large housing opportunity with a big conference room and several outdoor spots for activities, including a lake, hiking trails, designated bonfire spots and more. Barney really meant it when he said 'get some fresh air'.

You pull up on a parking lot next to the range around the same time as a lot of other people. Some you recognize from the shared company cafeteria, some you don't. There's a few other humans here, but also trolls, some fairies, goatfolk, a slime in humanoid form and more. You're not surprised to see so much diversity, though you feel a ping of anxiousness with having to present in front of so many different people. You glance at Irwin, reluctantly your only anchor in this situation, but find him already engaged in conversation with a fairy that seems to be on his level of excitement.

"Irwin, I'm going to go get registered," you call to him, and he smiles back with a thumbs up.

You walk up with your backpack towards the main house. The building itself is made in wood, with intricate carvings over the giant door frame. The house seem to be two floors, with one side being one big open window. Trough it, you see a large conference room.

You’re busy admiring the woodwork as you enter the main house, and you don’t notice the obvious obstacle in front of you.

Your foot knocks against on something smooth but firm. As you frantically overstep to find your balance again, you step down on something, hear a sharp yelp, feel your leg being swept from underneath you. You promptly, very not elegantly, fall hard on your ass.

You grunt, and look at the source of your turmoil. At your feet lies a rather thick scaly tail. Following up it's length, towering over you, you see probably the largest naga you have ever encountered in your life, currently glaring daggers at you. His tail is a pleasant brown patterning of a common boa constrictor, which travels to his humanoid torso, currently wearing a black button-up shirt. His eyes are slit and golden, and his nose flattened against his face. His brown hair is shoulder length you'd assume, if it wasn't currently neatly set in a bun. He glowers at you, and flicks his tongue in your direction.

"Watch where you're going, Tiny," he hisses, before angrily turning away from you and slithering off.

You stare after him for a bit. Tiny?

You notice several people staring at you from the commotion, and try not to sink into the floor in embarrassment. You’ve barely set foot inside the house and already made a fool of yourself.

A furry palm stretches out to you.

"Horse crackers, what an absolute jerk! Are you alright?" a voice sounds.

You take the hand belonging to a coyote, you realize, who smiles pleasantly as she helps you up. Her fur is a warm beige, and she looks at you with a friendly, but concerned expression. She's about a head taller than you, and with a firm grip easily pulls you to your feet.

"Yeah, I'll live. Just surprised. Thanks," you add, and she waves you off.

"No trouble at all!” she says, and turns to stare after the naga. “Wow, we're supposed to be here for a good time, yeah? Who shat in his backpack, am I right?" she gives you a friendly elbow to the side, and you can't help but laugh.

"Guy's probably having a bad day, I don't want to put much into it."

You look over to the front desk where the Jerk in question is currently talking, or well, being talked to, by the goblin man behind the desk. The naga still somehow manages to look pissed from this distance.

"I'm Mira," the coyote woman politely nods at you.

You offer you name in turn, and she smiles.

"Well, you’re supposed to go get registered, yeah? I’m all set, but I’ll walk you over." She looks over and adds in a whisper; "Once Mr. Backpack is out of the way, of course."

You follow Mira to the desk, and get settled in. Irwin catches up to you not soon after, and shares some brilliant stories of already making new friends (and one of them is hot!).

You introduce Irwin to Mira, who seemingly came here as the only representative of her department.

"Lack of resources," she explains. "I usually work nights with the cleaning staff, and it's a pretty big building. They couldn't spare the hours for another one and keep up with sanitation I'm afraid."

"Cleaning? It's super cool you guys are here too, though, you're like. Extremely important," Irwin says. "You guys are the reason we don't go home sick every day."

Mira smiles, and rakes her claw through the scruff on her neck. "Oh please, we're just the bottom feeders here," she nods at the other people standing around and talking in small groups. "You guys bring the money home."

You look over and find Mr. Backpack on his own, using his coiled up lower half as a chair while typing something on a small laptop. Irwin follows your gaze, and leans into you.

"Why're we creeping on snake guy?" he whispers.

Mira cuts in before you can reply. "Because the guy knocked your buddy here to the floor and just left them there."

"What?!" Irwin gasps, staring at you.

You interject. "No no, that's not what happened. I think I accidentally stepped on his tail and I slipped when he pulled it away from me. He had every right to be sour."

"He could have least acknowledged it was an accident and helped you up!" Mira protests.

"Please, let's not make a huge deal out of it. As I said, guy's probably just having a bad day. Let's just have fun at the conference."

You lightly tap Irwin’s shoulder when he doesn’t seem convinced. He glares in Mr. Backpack's direction, and does an ‘I'm watching you’ gesture, but immediately looks away innocently. You snicker fondly. As if Irwin could hold his own in any type of fight, but you appreciate the protective gesture.

You glance back to find Mr. Backpack looking at you, but the moment you catch his eye he looks back down on his laptop. Did he overhear?

You don't have time to worry about it, as a voice suddenly rings out from a speaker set in the ceiling:

"Will all good folks of this fine establishment please bring themselves to the great outdoors behind the facilities!"

You recognize the voice. It’s not one you've heard a lot, but it sometimes comes through company wide announcements. It's Mrs. Hansen, vice president of the company. You've never talked to her, but she always seem to carry a formal, but rather friendly disposition. You take her for some kind of fae, if her blueish tinted skin, ghostly white hair and ram’s horns is anything to go by.

And the fact no one knows her first name. Fae are apparently strict on name culture.

People start filtering out the building, and you're not surprised to see Mr. Backpack linger in a corner, waiting for everyone to clear the room. You surmise getting his tail stepped on is not a rare occurrence.

Irwin steps with you outside. You look around after Mira, but find she's vanished somewhere in the crowd. Irwin shrugs when you ask him about it.

Behind the building you find a rather beautiful clearing in a forest area, fenced in by wooden stakes and connected to the house. The spot encompasses a massive grassy area with several spots for lounging, playing games, and even a few bunkers for the ones fond of outdoor sleeping. The mountainous cool air is refreshing, though still carries the bite of the night in the morning hours – it'll take some time for the sun to warm you up out here.

Mrs. Hansen takes a stand on one of the benches to get some leverage as she addresses the crowd. The muttering conversations dies down immediately as she starts to speak.

"Now then! Welcome, one and all, to the start of our company conference! I am very happy to see each department so determined to bring us all closer together," she says, bright smile on her face.

Irwin pokes you, nods in direction of the faerie he talked to earlier and suggestively waggles his eyebrows. You snort under your breath and give him a shove.

"I am also-" Mrs. Hansen continues, "very happy to announce that each department found the resources to spare not only one, but two representatives! This has opened a lot of possibilities for cooperative work, departments between. After all, this is so we can all get to know each other."

Two? You wonder briefly what that meant for Mira, if she was here alone.

Mrs. Hansen goes on to explain some basic rules of different games that she has planned for the beginning of the week, along with a common presentation supposed to be delivered by each department on what they're working on, and their goals for the year.

"On day three, however-" she smiles. "We'll be changing it up. Instead of all of you hanging around your partner from your own department, we will force you to socialize outside you comfort zones and personal boundaries by partnering you with someone from a different department,” she pauses for effect as a murmur goes through the crowd.

You look around hoping to spot Mira somewhere, but with so many people of all shapes and sizes it’s hard to make her out. You notice Mr. Backpack however, standing next to a troll woman who looks strangely relieved.

“The last competition is simple,” Mrs. Hansen continues. “Hike the trail from the house to the lakeside on the far end of the mountain going north. It’s a few days hike, and whoever gets there first, wins!” she winks at the crowd. “’Oh but what do we win?’ Whatever pair manages to brave the mountain and cross the line first wins these!”

Mrs. Hansen holds up two small four leafed clovers, their stems golden, and excited whoops and ‘ooh’’s escape the people around you.

You've heard stories of clovers like that, picked and enchanted by gnomes. Very rare to come by, and has a use which must by activated by whoever possesses them for the enchantment to take effect:

Become extremely lucky and succeed any endeavor of your choice.

Rather powerful stuff, but not the weirdest thing you’ve heard in this strange new world. After all, as humans learned around 20 years ago, magic is a thing. Rare, but a thing.

"Mhm, yes, the Clovers! As long as the enchantment is inside them, they will never wilt," Mrs. Hansen brandishes the clovers for a few seconds longer, before securing them in a small glass box, and placing it in the bag at her side. "So you better do your best to get there fast! And of course – you've only crossed the goal if BOTH partners are there together. No running off on your own, now."

Irwin sympathetically pats your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but you’re never gonna get those clovers,” he sighs, and looks at you sadly.

“What?”

“Because me and whoever I end up with will get them first!” he grins. “But don’t worry, when I’m extremely lucky maybe something will rub off on you, since you’re always following me around.”

You scoff. “Sure, Mr. Oh Please Do My Paperwork, I’m following You,” you give him another shove. “But do your worst; gods know you actually need luck in your life, professional and otherwise.”

Irwin feigns hurt, and you laugh it off as the crowd dissipates to the first couple of activities.

The first day of the conference you spend mostly preparing your department presentation with Irwin, sometimes bouncing between people during breaks, having a chat, sharing a laugh and getting on a first-name basis with people.

You've been utilizing the outside arrangements along with other groups, and it's here Mira finds you again. She seems to have taken to you and Irwin, and her friendly disposition and witty remarks certainly brightens your experience. She takes Irwin's borderline snarky playfulness in stride, and he seems to enjoy the challenge figuring which buttons to push.

You decide to intervene before he gets too far.

“We missed you at the gathering, where were you?” you ask, efficiently halting Irwin's onslaught of questions.

It's lunch break, and you've gathered outside with some sandwiches in hand. The sun is shining, though there is a somewhat chilly wind blowing through the valley, you thank yourself for bringing a warm beanie.

“Sorry, since I’m here as the only one, I'm not really doing the whole company stuff as you guys," Mira replies. "I worked it out with Mrs. Vice President, so I’m sticking with the other practical staff here – caterers and such. They’re a lovely bunch. I will, however, be joining you smart people for the food,” she smirks, and takes a big bite of her sandwich.

"Well, you're welcome to stick around with us - you wouldn't happen to know how to use PowerPoint?" Irwin asks and, with practiced experience, ducks out of the way before you can smack him.

"Do your own damn job!" you scold him, and he laughs.

Around evening time you flock to the common room and find a large pile of board games, both hum and mon versions. You and Irwin decide to try some out, and are soon joined by a small group of people.

You spot Mr. Backpack entering the common room a few minutes later, and manage to catch his eye. You gesture at the board for him to join. He blinks, flicks his tongue, looks away and leaves the common room toward the sleeping spaces.

“Don’t bother with Amren,” a troll woman named Elise says with a grin after he's gone, noticing your attempt at a peace offering. “My guy's a living emotionless rock. I've been trying to be friendly with him for years but he ain't too interested in talking.”

So that’s his name. You wonder why his superiors would send him of all people to a huge social event if that's the case. Though you still somewhat have a hard time believing someone just doesn’t have emotions. You know from first hand experience he’s at least capable of feeling annoyed.

“Wait, you’re the other one from the security department he’s partnered with, aren’t you?” Irwin notes.

Elise huffs in acknowledgment, idly running her large hands through her tough black hair. She clicks her tusks. “E-yup. Today’s been straight up painful. He hates doing anything not work related. Slithers off the second we’re done. It’s literally impossible to have a regular conversation with him.”

You frown. “So he just never talks to anyone?”

“Not unless he has to. Ain't always rude about it though. Guessing you got the brunt of him this morning,” she chuckles.

You try not to recall falling on your ass in front of the entire company.

“I did step on his tail,” you add.

Elise shrugs. "He left it out the open."

The evening progresses in a good tone with board games and nice conversations. Somewhere in your mind you thank your otherwise grumpy manager Barney for thinking of you when arranging this. It’s nice being out and about, and you have a feeling this might actually be a possibility to make some new friends.

Later in the evening, you settle in you and Irwin’s shared room, and fall into a deep sleep.

[mikestoklassa]

My time at the Zak Bagans Haunted Museum

This ghost hunting episode has compelled me to share my own experience with Zakary Bagary's Spooky Emporium, mostly because I've only shared this story orally and also because I want to flex that I've been somewhere Mike Stoklasa has been. Mayhaps it will inspire one of you to write a Fanfic (gentle persuasion). But truly this is mostly a diaristic blog post for me so that my memory of the Zak Bagan's Haunted Museum never truly slips from my grasp. Facts may not be totally accurate because this is months later and I have a shit memory. Anyways read more if u even care

THE BEGINNING

So my boyfriend and I went to Vegas this past year so that I could see my beloved Vegas Golden Knights <3 Of course that couldn't occupy the whole weekend, and my boyfriend and I aren't gamblers, so we had to find other things to pass the time. When we realized that Zak Bagans' Haunted Museum (which I will refer to as ZBHM) was in Vegas, we had to go. To be honest, by boyfriend and I have only seen a few episodes of Ghost Adventures, but we love spooky stuff and people whose reputations proceed them, so we knew we had to go.

We were staying on the strip, and ZBHM is located more in their downtown, so we had to Uber there. NGL I was expecting some spooky old Victorian house painted in all black, but truly it is just a pretty historic home in a residential neighborhood.

To my shock as a North-easterner, the check in for the museum is outside. So we're greeted by a lovely person who asks if we have tickets. We said we didn't and they told me the wait can be anywhere between 15 minutes and 3 hours, as we'd essentially be hoping that someone who bought tickets didn't show up to their tour. We didn't feel like waiting in the Vegas heat, so said we'd come back. Out of nowhere a man who looked like Guy Fieri if he shaved his head came up to the desk and said we were making the right choice, and to come back tomorrow with tickets. The workers were really nice and let us peruse the gift shop before we left.

My BF and I ended up going to the Mob Museum which was in the neighborhood. It sucked. Don't go.

THE RETURN

That night we purchased tickets for after lunch the next day. They were a whopping $54 dollars each, meaning two tickets was already over $100. There was something called an "RIP Access" ticket, but all I saw was we got to go to a basement and got a shirt and I thought that was dumb as shit so we didn't get it.

So we return the next day and have to wait outside for the next group to enter the house. Most importantly, we're asked to sign wavers stating we WILL not sue Zak if a ghost follows us home. I'd never hold Zak to that, so I gladly signed. Once we're informed we can head inside, I assume the tour is starting but no, we're being led to a lobby with a ticket booth. I thought that was weird, because we already had tickets, but I figured they had to give us badges so they knew we were on the tour. There were pictures of people who had come to ZBHM before, including One Direction's very own Liam Payne. No photography was allowed on the tour, so this is the only photographic proof I went.

So in this lobby, we're basically lined up to a ticket booth where I think we're getting badges. But no, when you get up to the booth, a lovely worker asks if you would like to give Zak Bagans additional money to do the "RIP Access", which includes extra experiences and rooms, as well as free T-shirt at the end. I still think that's dumb as shit, so I say no. But then my BF and I realize we are the ONLY people on the tour who don't have RIP Access, and we don't want to have to stand like dumb dicks outside of certain rooms while everyone else got to go inside, so we let peer pressure get to us. We upgraded for an additional $32 each, meaning now instead of giving Zak Bagan's $108 dollar, we gave him $172. Truly a low point.

THE SPOOKY TOUR BEGINS

So once Zak swindles you out of your money, you're guided out of the lobby, through a yard, and into the museum proper. The first room is truly, deeply, honest, the most censory overload I have ever experienced in my life. Every breath you take will contain 0% oxygen and 100% smoke machine gas. The first room was just an oddities room, filled with haunted items and general cool things that Zak has found along the way. There were human skulls on an old church pew, and as a museum worker myself, I so desperately needed to see the provenance of those. I'm still waiting, Zak. Anyways, our tour guide then proceeds to uncover a machine which is an old Zoltar machine, but instead of a Zoltar animitronic, it's a Zak Bagan animitronic. Then, after each person on this ten person tour gave Zak Bagans $86 dollars each ($860 total), the tour guide asks if anyone would like to "spare a dollar" for the Zak Zoltar machine so Zak may give our tour a fortune. I thought everyone on the tour would feel just as indignant about this as me, but no, people were desperately reaching for their wallets so that they may be the person who blessed our tour with a fortune. I can't remember exacts, but it has something to do with bewaring stairs. Spoiler alert: the fortune did not come back up.

THE GROSS

So from the main room, we enter a haunted doll closet, our first RIP access experience! It was a hall filled with old dolls. I think old dolls are cute not creepy, so this was a pretty lame experience for me. Next we entered a room that looked like a chapel, and we are for the first time greeted to Zak's lovely presence. Zak in a voice over begins to tell us the story of Anneliese Michel, the German woman who underwent a bunch of exorcisms. Now I am very much like Jay, in the sense that ghosts are most interesting to me when they're presented as amorphous fields of energy. I do not care for demon stories, especially when it's obvious that the "demonic person" is just severely mentally ill. So needless to say, I was not about this room. After the voice over, Zak invites RIP ticket holders to the spooky crawlspace tunnel below a mantle holding a chalice the Michel family owned? Idfk. I was NOT crawling through some damn tunnel with someone I don't know's ass in my face, so I declined and walked in the hallway with our tour guide to the next room. My BF went through and said the scariest thing was the idea of the person in front of you farting.

I won't lie, it's about here where my memory gets murky, so I apologize if this is out of order. ("But isn't this just the second room you went in??" Girl idk!!) What I remember next was entering a room with a large bed in it. In the room we are greeted to another voice over from Zak explaining that this bed came from Love Ranch. Zak spends a long time explaining that this is the bed that NBA player Lamar Odom OD'ed and almost died on, and that the Love Ranch owner Dennis Hof died on. I was like "Okay I guess that's a little creepy and sad but is it haunted?" And then Zak on the voice over was like "Oh by the way here's a picture of Hof on the bed with a creepy face in the back that may be a ghost" and then we were PROMPTLY ushered out of the room.

Next we're taken into a room that looks like a medical office. We're told the drawings on the wall and the items in the room belong to Jack Kevorkian, who was a doctor and proponent of euthanasia. The Zak Voice Over spent a lot of time explaining how people would faint in this room after feeling very emotionally overwhelmed. I was like okay....it's the Vegas heat, we've been standing for awhile now, every square inch of this place is nothing buy fog machine smoke, and now we're talking about euthanasia...yeah that'd probably make me pass out. Anyways we go into a room which has Kevorkian's van where the euthanasias were performed. To me, this stuff isn't spooky like at all? IDK I don't know a lot about Kevorkian but from what Zak said he just sounded like a doctor who wanted to give people a chance to go with grace.

So with all of that leaving a bad taste in my mouth, we were taken to a room full of serial killer memorabilia. Personally, I don't like the idea of serial killer's being tortured souls who must stay on this mortal coil as ghosts, but I guess it was better than Zak exploiting the deaths of their victims so whatever. It was a little cool to see the artifacts in the room but honestly now as an adult who understand serial killers aren't complex and fascinating psychos and mostly just guys who hate women, I didn't really feel compelled by this room. There also weren't really any ghost stories in this room. I think Zak just wanted to flex he had a John Wayne Gacy painting.

We were then taken to a room that looked with a barn with a big cauldron in the center. I IMMEDIATELY clocked it as an Ed Gein room. The Zak Voice Over once again comes on to explain a little bit about Ed Gein and how the cauldron in the room is the one Gein used to drain the blood of victims. Again, I'm not into this stuff, but was snapped back into it when Zak explained that on a paranormal investigation of the museum, two English witches were performing a seance in this room and one became possessed by Gein and tried to attack the other. I was so onbroard. Zak please if you're reading this pay those English witches whatever they want to explore your museum more.

THE UPTICK...

So the English witches had me so unbelievably hype and the next point in the tour was so fun. We're taken to this carnival themed room where a man introduces himself and then promptly sticks a drill bit up his nose. He then swallowed a sword and explained he'd been working there for awhile. I asked him how you learn you're good at something like that, and he actually explained the process by which he trains. It was genuinely interesting. Next to him was a caravan which apparently was haunted by a little girl, so the group was split in two to investigate. My group was second, so we had a moment to talk to this guy and ask questions. I am of course annoying so I asked how often Zak is bringing objects to the museum, how he decides where to place them, where does he get them from,etc. I think the guys wanted us to ask if Zak was like cool and nice lol but he played along and answered as best he could. Anyways we went in the caravan next and nothing happened.

...TO THE STEEP DROP

After we departed from nice carnival man, we were made to walk in a hallways with scary clown animatronics, only some of them were real people. I don't hate clowns, but I do not like haunted attractions with real people, so I spent the whole time just staring at the ground. I couldn't tell you what anything looked like.

Then we were in a normal hallway with two doors. Our tour guide informed us that we'd be going to the left, which was the "torture room". I had my fill of human suffering, so I asked if I could wait in the next room. My tour guide was kind enough to let me do so. My BF went in and informed me it was a serial killer who prayed on male sex workers and they had the bed he would torture them on. I did not mind missing it.

The room I waited in was next, and you guessed it, we were greeted to the Zak Voice Over. Zak explained we were in the antechamber for the Dybbuk Box. I was hype, because this is something I definitely know Zak for. All was well until the Zak voice over started explaining to terrifying night Zak had with the Dybbuk Box while investigating with his "friend, Post Malone." Something in me just snapped, I started crying laughing. I thought it was so fucking funny. But you need to understand, everyone else on my tour was SO into this stuff. I didn't want to be the asshole yucking everyone's yum, so I turned to the corner. I then noticed our tour guide looking at me and realized he was assessing if I was crying or not. Not wanting to be used as a story of "a woman who started having an emotional breakdown right outside of the Dybbuk Box room", I pulled it together. We finally entered to see.....the Dybbuk Box behind four giant wooden walls. Apparently Zak had a vision of someone stealing the Box, so he added the walls for good measure. I was whelmed.

After this, my memory gets REALLY murky. I know we went to the basement where the previous owner claims her dad would perform satanic rituals on her. Very sad, but Zak made a point to note that she stopped texting him eventually. Take a hint Zak.

I remember a spooky doll named Peggy, who we were told NOT to disrespect as she was SUPER MEGA HAUNTED. Even Zak apparently wouldn’t go in alone. We entered, and Peggy was just a doll from the 70s with a page boy haircut and a prairie dress. There was a spirit box in the room and we were told we could commune with Peggy. NO ONE spoke for the longest time so eventually I said “…I like your haircut Peggy!” No one laughed and Peggy did not respond.

The most exploitative room undoubtedly, was the celebrity haunted memorabilia room. Inside were such respectful object such as Brandon Lee’s coat from The Crow, which he died in, Paul Walker’s sunglasses, which he died in, Truman Capote’s summer clothes, which he died in, and for some reason, Patrick Swayze’s tooth. Nestled in the corner was an object which I was immediately drawn to, and which I paid the most attention to throughout our time in this room. It was Sharon Tate’s wedding dress. I don’t exactly know how this object was supposed to be haunted, as she didn’t die in it, but my God did I want to deck Zak Bagan’s in his fucking face because something like this genuinely belongs in a real museum and not Zak Bagans’ Misery Porn Tour of Horror.

I also remember being taken to a nautical themed room which had some Titanic objects, but was mostly a Natalie Wood room, as it had items from the boat she was on when she died. Voice Over Zak explained that he was doing a separate paranormal investigation and placed some objects in the room. At the same time, the captain of the ship Natalie died on texted Zak saying, practically verbatim, “OMG!!! All my books just flew off the shelves. It’s Natalie, I know it.” All I could think was, “For the love of God, let this poor woman rest.”

THE END

At this point, the tour was just throwing everything at the wall and seeing what stuck. We went into a room with a rocking chair that supposedly possessed a child. I asked our tour guide what happened to the kid and he was like “Oh the demon left him and he’s fine now.” Oh, good! We went into another room with artifacts from an occultist with a specialization in EVPs. I LOVED this. Again, I love the idea of ghosts being energy who can speak through radio waves. What I didn’t like is Zak being like “Oh by the way, listening to EVPs infected her with demons and she went crazy and wasted away.” I’m sorry, what is it with Zak and demons???

Lastly, of course, was the house from Zak’s wonderful documentary. You’re led a dark room where Zak explains the portal to Hell resided in the basement of a home in…Gary, Indiana. The the walls lifted and from behind a fence you could see some dirt from the basement with a pentagram in it. I’m sorry, how did they transport that? Everyone has to understand they redrew/drew that pentagram in there, right? Anyways, super anticlimactic way to end our tour.

Then of course, exit through the gift shop. I was offered a shirt for buying the RIP access ticket. I declined. My boyfriend did get one, though. Still trying to convince him to do a Mike and Jay Halloween costume with me.

TLDR, the ZBHM had none of the fun campiness of Zak’s personality and was full of human suffering and very little ghosts. I cannot stress enough, though, how awesome all of the employees there are. I truly, TRULY hope that a good portion of the ~$860 Zak is getting form each tour is going to them, because they sell you on it.

Anyways Mike what if we kissed in the Creepy Demonic Crawlspace of the Zak Bagans’ Haunted Museum 😳

[nsk96]

Outsider's Gift

A Dishonored fan fiction by N.S.K. (Available on AO3)

I don't know what trigger warnings to add right now so I apologize in advance. All I could think of is the spookiness and mild abrasive language. Please let me know if there are any warnings I should add. Feedback is welcome <3

Chapter 1: Call of the Void

[Month of Harvest, 1834]

It was a warm night in the Batista mining district of Karnaca. The turbulent winds of the Sirhrocco Currents made their way down the mountain’s mouth and slapped violently against the windbreaks surrounding the city. The thrashing could be heard from an apartment nearby. On the second floor, stood a young girl, no older than three years-old who was silently peering out the doorway of her bedroom. She was listening to her mother’s conversation with friends in the dining room.

Then, she made her move. Creeping into the hallway on her toes, the back end of her blue blouse became jammed in the door. Wump! She fell as her face and hands smacked against the floorboards. Her eyes watered and throat tightened but she fought back the tears. No, she mustn’t cry…not now. Through blurry eyes, she surveyed her surroundings and the conversation of the women in the dining room continued, undisturbed by the commotion. The young girl smirked, happy to continue her mischief.

“The Outsider is a demon, I tell you!” one woman in a brown dress, exclaimed. She had silver hair and a pale face adorned with smile lines, but she was full of life and adamant on not sinking into her age. Her sapphire eyes widened as she narrated her rendition of the rumors she heard. “With black eyes darker than the night, he likes to haunt people in their dreams. He drags them into the Void while they sleep, to the place where he rules. He’s the king of the Void!” She slammed her hand against the table. The plates shook and the remainder of spiced fish stew splattered around in a bowl with plantains. This startled the young girl, making her clench her fists.

Her mother, calm and cool as always, downed Orbon rum from her shot glass. “Janot, have you even seen the Void?” she asked sarcastically with a smirk. Her brown eyes narrowed at the older woman, as she ran a sunkissed hand through the strands of her smooth black hair. Janot’s eyes darted around the room and she muttered.

“I-I-I haven’t but I’ve heard enough rumors to know,” Janot said with a proud nod. “Everyone has heard of him, Marisa, and I know about your dealings with him.”

“The Outsider was a good friend of mine,” Marisa replied with confidence. Although deep down, she felt irritated. Over time, it became easier to ignore the rumors that were spread by the people in Serkonos, for they didn’t know him like she did. He was her secret friend that only those closest to her knew about. Janot however, didn’t care much for Marisa’s stories of him. She thought Marisa to be under his spell. “He is a curious man, nothing evil about him. Isn’t that right, Adriana?”

“I’m sure a wild girl like you would know!” said the young woman who donned a grey frilly dress. Adriana was Marisa’s dearest friend and confidant since childhood. A best friend to her during their school days in Karnaca; a sister to her when Marisa was sold by her step father to evil men, until they later ran away to Daud and the whalers. Even now, she stayed by her side, occupying the apartment right next door. Unlike Marisa, Adriana loved to keep her curly auburn hair short. She’d say it makes it easier to wear her whaler gear, just in case she decided to go back to that life.

Despite appearances, these women were not your typical aristocrats. They came from the depths of society and rose to high status with their labor…though their labor involved finding a large sum of money. A well-kept secret between the three of them that has bound them together. The women laughed in unison, reminiscing on old times, until Adriana spotted the golden green eyes of the young girl staring at her from the hallway.

“It looks like someone is still awake,” Adriana crooned. The women turned their heads towards the little girl, and she grinned in response as she clutched her braid.

Marisa sighed and approached the girl with a smile. “Vivia, I told you to go to sleep,” she said warmly. “Adult conversation is no place for a child.” Marisa gently lifted Vivia in her arms, cradling her against her hip. “Say goodnight to Janot and aunt Adriana.” Over her mother’s shoulder, Vivia waved at the women smiling warmly at her.

“Night night aunt Addy, night night Janny,” Vivia chirped.

“Goodnight, dear,” Janot replied as she blew a kiss. Vivia poorly mimicked her, blowing her a kiss with an over-extended palm and a sweet smile that illuminated her face.

Vivia then rested her head on Marisa’s shoulder as she was delivered to her room. As Marisa gently pulled the sheets back, Vivia crawled onto her bed. Her mind swirled with questions about the Void and the Outsider. Too much for a young mind to handle.

“Mama, who Ou-sider?” Vivia finally asked as Marisa tucked the sheets around her tiny daughter.

Before she could answer Adriana blurted out, “the black-eyed bastard, that’s who!” She was peeking in and thought it was a perfect opportunity to joke around with her niece as usual.

Marisa giggled. “Watch your language,” she joked. She turned back to Vivia. “He’s someone I knew a long time ago. When you’re older, I’ll tell you the whole story.”

“Risa,” Adriana said, resting her hands on her hips. “I’m sure she would love to hear about your wild adventures with the king of the Void.”

“Ana…” Marisa waved a finger at her.

“The handsome demon with the black eyes. Oh, how those eyes can stare deep into your soul as his black fog engulfs your body…I’m jealous that you were his favorite.”

“Adriana!” Marisa exclaimed with wide eyes and mouth agape.

“I’m sorry, Risa,” Adriana nonchalantly replied as she slipped her black gloves on. “You know I like to tease you.” Vivia observed Adriana closely. She watched as the black glove concealed the mark on the back of her hand; the same mark her mother bore on hers.

“I know,” Marisa sighed. “She’s just too young to hear that part.” Vivia wondered if the Void was the same place she saw a couple of nights ago. However, she had a question of higher urgency.

“Mama,” Vivia whispered. “Daemeen is king of void, can I be prinzezz?” She couldn’t properly pronounce the word “demon” yet, nor was she sure what it meant. All that concerned her was becoming royalty.

“You can be anything you want but, please stay away from the Void. A lot of danger lurks there.” Marisa gently caressed her daughter’s cheek.

“I’m sure she would be fine,” Adriana replied. “He won’t let anything hurt her in there.”

“He better not! He may be immortal but I will kill the bastard if any of the monsters in the void dare lay a hand, spike, finger, flipper or fin on her.”

Adriana snorted. “Well, let’s hope he never shows up in her dreams then,” she teased. “Sometimes…I wonder if his gift is actually a curse.”

“We may never know the price for accepting his mark, until the day we die.” Marisa chuckled nervously as she whipped around to Vivia, who was now staring out the window. A mountain that was reminiscent of a whale tooth, sat eerily in the distance. It begged for her attention every moment of every day. The Sirhrocco Currents were its siren call.

“Can I go there?” Vivia asked, eyes still glued to the view. Marisa shook her head.

“Shindaraey peak is no place for a child,” Marisa replied with a shaky voice and frown.

Adriana butted in again. “It’s no place for humans. Period.” She leaned up against the door frame and sighed. “They say the portal to the Void is there. People who go there, never come back.”

“Now, now, there is no need for ghost stories,” Marisa said. “Shindaraey is just a dangerous place.” Marisa feared what lied in wait at the mountain…and it wasn’t the Void. She pulled the sheets and snugly tucked them under Vivia’s chin. “Now then…it’s time for you to sleep, my love.” She planted a kiss on Vivia’s forehead and she hesitated for a moment, waiting for Vivia to ask for a bedtime story. The request never came. Why would it anyways? Marisa’s storytelling skill was nothing compared to that of the man she loved: Vivia’s father.

“Night night, Mama.” Vivia beamed at her only to be reciprocated with a quivering smile. Marisa was overcome with sorrow as all she could think about was him. Her husband was gone for the night again.

“Good night my dear,” Marisa said as she left the room with Adriana who gently waved her hand at Vivia. As the door closed, Vivia saw the darkness swirl under her eyelids and her body sunk into the ocean of the dreamworld.

A cold breeze whipped Vivia’s face causing her to crank her eyelids open. She noticed her room was different. Around her, were black shard-like platforms floating into a dark grey world, like debris drifting in a sea. Jumping up from her bed, Vivia grabbed her favorite hat from on top of the dresser. She flung the blue skimmer hat onto her head and eagerly ran towards the rocky pathway that lied before her.

Wandering into the familiar realm, her bedroom soon became lost behind her and an eerie light in the grey sky lit her way. She kept going, as whale song could be heard in the distance. She kept going, not knowing the dangers that waited in the shadows. She kept going…not knowing she was being watched. Just like the last time she visited, a strange presence has been watching her, following her every move.

Her eyes darted around in awe. Could this be the Void the grownups spoke of?

A strange voice echoed around Vivia, stopping her in her tracks. “Not many of the living have been here,” a young man’s voice resonated. She looked up and saw him levitating in the air against the starless grey sky. His eyes were black ink, like those of the leviathans that roamed the seas, reflecting nothing but the unnatural light of the Void. A black smoke swirled around him. Without a doubt, this was the Outsider. He donned a grey jacket with a tall collar, as leather boots embraced his feet up to his calves. His black hair was strangely well kept with uneven bangs framing the side of his pale face. Vivia knew this had to be the man her mother spoke of earlier. The black-eyed bastard. Deep down, she knew it in her heart.

He spoke again and a hint of sarcasm lingered in his voice. “Oh, little Vivia…do I even need to say it? You’ve wandered into the Void yet again.” He gracefully lowered to the ground, keeping a large distance between them.

“De…daemeen!” Vivia exclaimed with glee. Under the Outsider’s cold demeanor, danger lurked. Despite what the grownups said, his obsidian eyes and deathly presence did not scare Vivia. Instead, she felt safe. She felt a warmth emanating from within him. A warmth that was unexpected in the cold lifeless domain that is the Void.

“Damien?” The Outsider questioned, “no one has ever called me that…” He teleported closer, the black smoke circulating around him with his every movement. The light illuminated his face. His milky skin, kissed by death, possessed a blueish hue. “The fate of the whole world rests on your shoulders and you walk, unaware of it all…” The Outsider smirked as he paced towards the small child. “Such an overwhelming responsibility for such a small person.” Vivia stretched her arms up towards him and jumped up repeatedly. His eyes leered down at her as he stroked his chin. “I’ve waited to meet you for more than a century…I thought you’d be taller.”

“Up!” She exclaimed. Unable to resist, the Outsider awkwardly lifted the child with both hands and held her toward the grey sky.

“I think this is how people in the world hold children…” The Outsider speculated. His head tilted while his eyes examined her face. “Now…how did Marisa hold you, again?” The Outsider cradled Vivia in his arms over his hip and she giggled in response.

“Be my friend?” Vivia crooned as a broad smile graced her face. Her big green eyes gazed at him and as the light entered, the golden flecks glittered. It reminded him of the golden olive oil he saw crafted in the east of Serkonos. After all this time, the Outsider could see everything and everyone, yet he couldn’t remember where he’d seen these eyes before. He knew they didn’t belong to her mother. As for her father? He wasn’t sure.

“Such innocent creatures, humans are when they are children. I wonder what will become of you over the years. Will you choose to abandon your destiny? Or will you rewrite it with blood?” He carefully tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if I will have the chance to witness it. My story in the Void shall soon come to its conclusion. I will be torn away from this place, gone with the leviathans who once ruled the seas. Then someday soon, the people of the known world will no longer bear my mark…they will bear yours.”

“And I will be a prinzezz?” An ordinary dream for an unordinary girl. Little did she know, that all of her dreams would one day be ripped from her by the Void and its unforgiving grasp.

“That’s up to you,” the Outsider chuckled. He stared at her in awe thinking of how much she resembled her mother; a heart-shaped face, round nose, and a grin that could melt any heart...even a dead one.

“I want a story,” Vivia grinned. The Outsider’s black eyes widened in disbelief. Most of his chosen never seemed to care much for his monologues and yet, here was a child who has nothing better to do than to listen to his monologues all day.

“Is that so?” The Outsider’s lips curved in amusement. He loved surprises. He wasn’t expecting this small child to feel so at ease in his arms much less to have the bravery to make demands of him. Most adults would cower in fear with just one glimpse of him in the shadows, and children would shake in their bones at the mere mention of his name. He was the boogeyman, a trickster, or devil to some. To others he was a myth or beloved god. To a select few, he was the black-eyed bastard who granted dark gifts. To Vivia…he was just another person.

She is Marisa and more, he thought to himself.

Vivia pressed the tips of her fingers together and pleaded her case. “Papa tells stories,” she mumbled. “And I sleep, but he not here…” A sorrow washed over her and she looked down, breaking her gaze from the Outsider’s eyes. His smile faded too, and face scrunched in disgust as his body tensed. He knew of Marisa’s husband. A man whose goal was to marry into money. Although he was a decent father to Vivia, he had a tendency to leave his family behind every other night for the warmth of the nearby brothel. He’d disappear, not returning until the next morning. It was on nights like these where Marisa’s unhappiness reflected in her eyes no matter how much she tried to conceal it. Deep within, the Outsider wished things could be different for her and Vivia, but Marisa wouldn’t want him meddling with their lives anymore.

“Please tell me a story,” Vivia pleaded. A warm smile returned to the Outsider’s face and his body relaxed.

“I…I think I have a couple of stories to tell you,” he said with a wide grin. If he was still human, his face would become rosy with happiness. His heart jumped with excitement, for he had more than just a couple of stories; he had 4000 years-worth to tell. The Outsider hesitated for a moment, contemplating where to start. “One of my favorites is about a beautiful woman who traveled to Pandyssia. But my favorite story of all time is about a handsome brave man who lost two empresses…although I don’t know if that version of the story exists in this timeline yet. It could be his daughter’s story. Or maybe…I can tell you about the woman who fell in love with the Void four years ago.”

“Story time, story time!” Vivia wriggled excitedly in his arms. The Outsider chuckled.

“Patience, little one. Let’s get you home first before your mother kills me.” The duo strolled back to her room where he tucked her in and recounted tales from times past, and tales from times yet to come. Once Vivia fell asleep, the Outsider slipped back into the Void. Not a single trace left behind.That place wasn’t so bad, Vivia thought to herself. When she wakes up, this will all be just a dream. Rebelling against her mother’s warning, she would begin the next day with a secret of her own. Then when the night returns to Serkonos, she would once again wander into the Void.

Commission art by @trashy-corvian

@uncontrol-freak @kg-clark-inthedark @theflyingsealion @brassyasssassafrasaphone Thank you all so much for helping me decide on a mark/symbol for this fan fic.

@shower-man @starsharks thank you for helping me figuring out the eye color :3

Notes: I finally finished the first chapter. I'm sorry it took so long but after numerous revisions I think I'm finally satisfied with it (may revise again at a later date if I have the time because my brain can never be happy with my writing :D)

[strawberrystreamfields]

Carolina's Journal Log 10:

Turns out those berries from last night were just wild cranberries. Still probably am not going to head back to get some. We set out in the mid-morning, off to face the day. Our first order of business was to take a lap around Goldenleaf Island, before heading towards the mountain trail.

Splashing through the icy cold water, we dodged a couple of rocks in our path, before emerging on the other side of the waterway. Rosedawn took our short pause as an opportunity to shake herself free of remaining water droplets much like a dog would. This had a double benefit, also ridding me of water.

We began heading up the trail, and I thought about how different it looked since I'd last been here. The last time I'd been here, it had been dark and spooky, hosting the Haunted Trail Ride. That was probably about a month and a half ago. This makes three different looks of this trail that I'd seen in the last 3 months. The usual autumn-y look, the spooky look in October and early November, and of course, now, coated in snow. Our spot on the trail gave us a lovely view of Goldenleaf Stables, similarly snow-covered.

Continuing on our way up the mountain, we stayed on high alert. We weren't sure if there were any hidden, renegade ice patches beneath the snow that Rosedawn could slip on. In the distance, I could see Jorvik Stables, sat upon its hill. Cape West Fishing Village's lighthouse was standing steady, prepared to guide ships into the port tonight. A bit furthur along the trail, we could see Silverglade Manor, a gray differentiation against the otherwise white landscape.

The trail brought us beneath the old castle bridge, Rosedawn's hooves crunching the snow beneath her as she walked, providing some of the only sound besides the occasional whistling breeze. We headed through Aideen's Whisper, her hoofbeats now echoing through the passage. Thankfully, I wasn't struck with any hallucinations or visions this time. That's a win in my book.

As we came out the other side of Aideen's Whisper, the Old King's Castle loomed behind us, an intimidating and commanding prescence within the peaceful valley. There was a small, safely built, burning campfire with a nearby tent that had a lantern on inside, so I didn't see the need to extinguish it. If it spreads, we'll be back here in record time.

Making our way down the final hill of the trail, we headed towards one of the stone bridges that would take us to the entrance/exit of Golden Hills Valley. Jasper's farm was just as snow-covered as it had been when we passed by yesterday, the pumpkin's sparkling with bright white snow.

After passing through the wrought iron gate, we turned towards the Forgotten Fields. Instead of once more trying to splash through the river to the Forgotten Fields, we took a running start and leapt across the small river, thankfully making it over without being completely soaked. We headed up the hill to the main flatlands of the Fields, and from there we'd head to possibly see Maya.

Our travels through the Fields took us past some large boulders, as well as a few small, scruffy trees characteristic of the Forgotten Fields. Approaching the Dew's Farm, we encountered Maya and Ellie along with Alex and Tin Can, all of whom had been heading out for a walk. I chatted with them briefly before Rosedawn and I continued along the pathway.

Our travels to the Goldspur Farm were thankfully mostly uneventful, save for the squirrel that darted across our path, startling Rosedawn. Thankfully, we all emerged unscathed. The entire Goldspur family was out and about, some playing in the snow, while others were going about their normal days. We passed through the frozen sunflower fields, heading for the nearby café.

We arrived at the café in record time, stopping for a cup of tea and an apple for Rosedawn. Not many people were there, which was surprising, given the fact that they're got some great tea. Nevertheless, we headed to Paddock Island, briefly conversed with Dorith Jarlasson, and then headed towards Jorvik Stables.

As we crossed the bridge that would take us up to Jorvik Stables, I found myself suddenly lost in thought. We'll head up to the Winter Village tomorrow, that's for sure. But, how far away would it be if one were to go on foot or on horseback instead of via sleigh? Eh, that's not something I'd very much like to test. Finally, we approached the gates of Jorvik Stables where I got us lodging for the night. Tomorrow should be interesting.

[nightlyvisitor]

36.  FESTIVE :  for both muses to decorate for a special occasion. ( Halloween decorating maybe? Something festive and fun for a change ahaha Chris for Raymon 💕 )

Humming along the tune, the sniper leans on his tippy toes to hang one of the ghost decorations he had been buying for the spooky season. Yeah he was well aware that some would not go all the way as he was doing it right now. People didn't really bother to decorate much for October since the month would go by way too fast and it would be a hassle to redecorate for Christmas...but for Raymon it wasn't such a big challenge...well, not to the spots he could comfortably reach to. Having something to occupy his mind was good, especially when the sniper would return back from long missions...he needed something to quiet his mind.

Lucky for him he wasn't alone for Halloween. Catching onto the familiar creak of wooden floors under a heavy weight, the shorter man is greeted with a heartwarming smile and a cup of hot tea. A small reward for his current activities. Sharing a little smirk back, Raymon gingerly accepts the warm mug to take a few sweet sips. Yeah Ray knew that he could definitely get stuck in his work...and forget to take a break. Maybe it was his stubborness in wanting to finish things to the end, or his mind completely zoning into the moment...it wouldn't be too bad if he wouldn't end up passed out on his desk. Crumpling that thought away for another day, Raymon gently leans to the side, bumping arms with the taller operative as he takes in the work he has completed so far. Smiling pumpkins hidden around the cabin, with a few adorable ghost hanging from the chimney and drawers to the colorful leaves placed on the living and kitchen table both topped with a small bouquet of yellow dahlias and white anemones. Just some flowers he hoped Chris liked, even if he couldn't really go for sunflowers this month. Although he favored the bright sunny flower...he found the charm in others, so why not surpise the older man?

Snapped back to the present his left hand is gently pulled over, scarred fingers mapping over the small lines of his palm, the way a few old scars curled around his wrist and higher up. The soft touch makes him smile so much brighter. Whatever worry was lingering in his mind, it would soon melt away. Replaced with a lovestruck look as Ray feels the familiar warmth and tenderness that accompanies the kisses gingerly placed. The shorter of the two can't help but raise his hand not stopping the other's affection as his fingers carefully map the other's cheek before settling on cupping. Gazing into hazel sights, amber hues loose themselves observing all the beauty and warmth that shined so brightly, so hopeful....maybe he knew why he sometimes pushed himself that hard.

Sooner that he wished the small alarm on his phone suddenly beeps consistently, reminding him of his other tasks. Of course...he would love nothing more than to ditch his plans and savour their soft moment much longer...but perhaps he could find a middle ground. Smiling sheepishly Raymon leans to catch the other lips in a soft kiss, before pulling away but not completely apart from the other.

"You know...there are some big pumpkins I left outside this morning. Would you be up to giving those fellas a charming smile with me? Maybe even help me set the rest of the decorations on the higher shelves? I promise we can have a cookie break afterwards." He chimes in with a sweet hum. The cookies would need some time in the oven until they would be reach their nice golden brow hue, but it would be worth it! Especially with the recipe he had prepared this year.

[forever-rogue]

HI LOVE, PLS FOR THE AUTUMN PROMPTS #12 WITH BUCKY I’M WHEEZING

AN | This is one of my favorite prompts! You know I love Spooky Szn more than anything!

Warnings | mentions of dying (as a joke); reference to ptsd (in passing); use of pet name (bunny)

Prompt Used | “I paid $50.00 for this haunted house. I better die.”

Masterlist | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I can't believe you managed to convince me to do this," Bucky's face was pulled into a dismissal expression as you beamed at him. You tugged on his arm with excitement as the line moved forward, throwing him a smile almost as sweet as the Halloween candy that had been everywhere for the last two months. He looked over at you, and opened his mouth to say something but stopped to lean down to give you a kiss first, "all I'm saying is that for all the hype this place gets it should be good."

"It will be," you insisted excitedly, "and ugh...it's basically a premium haunted house so...its a little bit more than the average haunted house."

"Premium haunted house?" he raised an eyebrow in surprise as you took his hand and laced your fingers together, "what do you mean?"

"Well, ugh, this is supposed to be really creepy and realistic and actually scare you," you explained sweetly, hoping he wouldn't flip out too much when you revealed how much this place was going to cost, "so you know the saying, you get what you pay for…"

"Oh no," he appeared worried for a moment before being unable to conceal the grin on his face, "alright, out with it. What are you hiding, little bunny?"

"Well, this is the hip, cool haunted house and-"

"How much is it?" you gave him a little smile as he just huffed in bemused exasperation.

"Fifty dollars…"

"Fifty dollars-"

"Each."

"Fifty dollars each?!" for a moment his expression grew worried as you just give him a nervous smile, "you know, back when I was young-"

"I know, I know," you pulled him forward with you, "you walked twenty miles to and from school in old shoes, and you worked for a dollar a week. Well times are different and these days we're paying for premium haunted houses. Besides, I asked you on this date, so it's technically my treat. Just relax and have fun!"

"Fine," he agreed, "you're an odd one, little bunny. But I still love you."

"And just how am I odd?"

"Who enjoys paying money to get scared?"

"A lot of people apparently since haunted houses are a huge commodity!" you huffed and lightly stomped your foot as if to prove your point, "I promise it'll be fun! And if for some reason you're still Mr. Grumpy Boots afterwards, we'll do whatever you want."

"Fine," Bucky was never one to turn down a challenge, "for someone that gets frightened by her own shadow, you sure do love Halloween a lot."

"Halloween is everything baby," your eyes practically lit up at the mention of your favorite holiday, "you know it's the best time of year for so many reasons! Foods, the aesthetic, fall - all of it. You can't out argue me on this one!"

"I'm not even going to try and bother," you were nearing the ticket booth and growing more and more excited by the second. Bucky could practically feel your excitement radiating onto him as you clutched his hand tightly, "I'm glad you're happy. That's all that matters."

"I am happy. You make me so happy," you promised and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, "I love you, James. Hey - are you okay with this? Like really, if you don't want to, we can figure something else out."

"I'm okay," he promised, offering you a small smile, "really. I love you too. Now, let's go and get scared."

"Yay! Oh Bucky, you're the best! I love you so much," you almost jumped into his arms when he so easily acquiesced to your request. When it came down to it, you knew he would do just anything for you, "if this totally sucks, you know I'll try and make it up to you."

"All I'm saying is that I'm going to pay Fifty-five dollars for this haunted house. I better die," he looked at you with such a straight face, for a moment you couldn't tell if he was joking or serious; but you both quickly burst into laughter, "come on!"

“Alright - but don’t get mad when your wish comes true and you die!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That wasn’t too bad at all,” you shrugged as you walked out of the haunted house, into the now chilly autumn evening. You stopped for a moment to admire the stars before noticing that Bucky was slowly trailing behind you, no longer at your side. You snorted lightly before crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow at him, “what? James...did you…did that actually scare you?”

“What?! No,” he insisted with a dramatic scoff as a grin stretched across your features, “that was child’s play at best. The costumes weren’t even that convincing. But I hope you had fun, baby.”

“I did,” you held out your hands towards him, still not convinced that he was telling the truth, “why don’t we-”

“BOO!” the voice behind Bucky was enough to make him jump out of his skin as he yelped and practically sprinted over to you. You almost doubled over in laughter as Bucky shoved you in front of him as a human shield, “you jumped! Actually jumped!”

“Sam!” Bucky groaned at the sight of his best friend wiping tears of laughter from his eyes as he walked over to you, his girlfriend Leila at his side, and shaking her head at his childishness. You exchanged a look with her and rolled your eyes at your silly boyfriends, “you’re an asshole.”

“Had to capitalize on the moment,” Sam laughed as Bucky sighed, “man, I can’t believe you didn’t realize we were behind you. What happened to the White Panther - too busy being scared?”

“I was...I was not scared!”

“You were too!”

“Boys,” you quickly interrupted the two of them, “why don’t both of you shut up and we can all go out and get dinner? Then the two of you can be idiots and argue and I can actually spend time with someone with a brain.”

“Hey!” they echoed in unison as you linked arms with Leila and the two of you skipped away to your cars. They would catch up soon enough.

“Love you!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: F Boy (again)

Debut: Super Mario Land 2: Six Golden Coins

It feels so strange to look back on my very first post for this blog! It’s so... dry! Where’s the passion? Back then I really had no idea what I was doing and was just kind of imitating Mod Chikako hoping nobody would notice... but thanks to all the love this blog has received, I think I can write with a lot more confidence now! Not to get all sappy on the first paragraph, but I really appreciate everyone who reads this blog with all of my heart. And that includes You!

But if I’d known I’d spend several years using the moniker “Mod F Boy”, I probably would’ve put more thought into the name I picked, huh? I’m not even sure I’m a boy anymore! I just thought the name was funny and that was that! But given how indecisive I can be, maybe it’s a good thing it was so spontaneous... Like it or not though, I am more attached to the concept of “F Boy” then I was three and a half years ago, so it’s only fair I give F Boy the post he deserves and write a whole lot more about him! 

Believe it or not, F Boy is a fire enemy! A single flame with dot eyes, the classic design they’ve been using since Fire! I’ve expressed love for them in the past, but this little dude is a little different... it isn’t found in a lava or castle stage like you might expect, but the spoooky scaaary stages, AKA Pumpkin Zone! Why’s that?

Enter the hitodama! Literally using the characters for “human soul”, these ghostly wisps of fire from Japanese folklore are probably something you’re familiar with even if you don’t know it! The Litwick Pokémon line, the flames on Jibanyan’s tail, the little flames around the boy from the toilet anime, or even the Embers from Paper Mario... that’s really just a couple of specific examples off the top of my head, but they are in basically anything associated with Japanese ghosts! 

Though... all this time I’ve always called them hitodama, but I should probably specify they aren’t the only kind of ghostly fireballs! Onibi (demon fire) are often described similarly, and I’m not totally sure what the difference is! I suppose they would be more demonic hence the name, and probably less of a good idea to get close to. Also, if they're made by fox demons, they’re kitsunebi (fox fire)! Isn’t that neat! But there are no foxes to be found here, so F Boy definitely isn’t that (Unless it stands for Fox Boy...?).

However, you might be more familiar with the concept of will-o’-the-wisps, a similiar kind of legend from Europe- in fact, a whole number of cultures around the world have stories of ghostly lights and flames! There’s two explanations for this, either that it is a misunderstanding caused by some chemical reaction (boring, lame) or that hitodama are real and really exist for real (fun, exciting)! I encourage everyone to go outside with a net and catch as many as they can. 

Even though hitodama can be red or orange in some traditional accounts, they’re mostly described as blue and most modern media sticks with that! Which makes it quite weird that F Boy... isn’t! He is a rather fetching orange of course, and without the added context of spooky old Pumpkin Land you wouldn’t be mistaken for thinking he is a lava enemy that just got lost or something! 

Now, moving on to a completely different topic, something else that is great about F Boy is his little cheeks. Have you seen them? Here is the picture one more time in case you forgot after all that. He doesn’t have one in the sprite, so isn’t it quite weird to give a fireball enemy such distinct little cheeks? I want to squeeze them, even if they are probably intangible. 

And finally, we come to the part we’ve all been waiting for- the name! You were thinking it, I was thinking it, it’s probably the only reason I chose to write about him in the first place! Because F Boy is a funny name for an enemy! I think it’s just quite silly to describe a fireball as a “boy” in the first place, as a term of endearment. It is just a boy! A little guy! He’s not hurting anyone! 

But then they add to that name- one letter. That one letter, F. It changes everything. All of a sudden, there’s a question floating in the air- what, pray tell, does the F in F Boy stand for? 

If you’ve been following our blog for a while, you might remember we added an addendum to the original F Boy post, saying the mystery had finally been solved- the English version of the Super Mario Bros. Encyclopedia lists his name as Fireball Boy, which is a pretty definitive answer right?

But since then, it’s been more or less exposed that this translation took a bunch of unsourced and conjectural names from the Mario Wiki, leading to something of a controversy and a Mario Wiki page that is essentially just roasting the whole thing! If even the Wiki doesn’t accept this book as an official source, I wonder if there’s any merit to the name Fireball Boy at all! Either way it’s odd how this is the ONLY name they changed... do they know something we don’t? I dunno! 

My next evidence to present to the court is something that isn’t really related to F Boy at all! Rather, in Super Paper Mario, the Lava Bubble enemy has a tattle that reads the following:

It's a Lava Bubble. This fiery magma boy loves the heat... Max HP is 1 and Attack is 4. Obviously, it's quite immune to fire... It pops out from below when people approach, so take care when jumping over lava...

Fiery magma boy! The chances of this bit of text being intended as a reference are very very slim, but what if, you see? What if? It’s still a fun coincidence, but what if though??

But of course, my favourite possibility is that it isn’t a word related to fire at all and is actually something completely different! I looked up a list of adjectives beginning with F and I’d like to highlight ones I want F Boy to have. Fabulous! Friendly! Faithful. Fantastic. Fascinating! French? Fresh! Fun, and Funky! Faultless. Fetching. Feminist! Festive. Formidable. All these and more describe the complex soul that is F Boy. 

After all is said and done, that is F Boy! Who would’ve thought that a little monochrome fireball enemy from a Game Boy game could have kicked off so many months of writing for this blog? I said in the first paragraph that I would not get too sappy, but now we are in the last one I can be as sappy as I dang well please! This blog has brought me such incredible joy and friendship that you can’t even imagine, and my only hope is that I can convey these feelings to even one person who reads these silly posts. If you are reading this? I hope you have a wonderful day! I hope you have a wonderful life! I hope you never forget to be passionate about the things that really don’t matter at all, because no one else can decide for you what is worth caring about! Mwah! A kiss goodbye. I’m not sure how to end this post. 

[inber]

A/N: Happy day two of spooky month! I chose to do one of @gravitational813 ‘s Geraskier kinktober prompts today - 2. ‘Ride His Thigh’. I baked a giant cake today and I am very tire, so this is a bit low effort, but thems the breaks sometimes. Enjoy!

Jaskier cannot sit or stand still. Geralt has a pet theory that if he does not fidget or dance or wriggle about like a hunting stoat at all times, Jaskier might suffer some sort of catastrophic bodily failure. Even in his sleep, he kicks his damn feet. The skipping dreams, Geralt privately calls them, because Jaskier tends to smile and hum, too.

It's the same tune on his breath now, and a similar shuffling jig. Geralt is atop Roach, letting her set the easy walking pace, and Jaskier is cavorting at their side. This is not unusual.

“Tired, bard?” Geralt asks, because they have been on the road for a few hours.

“Huh-wha?” Jaskier blinks himself out of his daydream, and beams up at Geralt. “Oh, no. All this travelling with you is doing me the world of good, actually. Had to let the seams out a little on these breeches the other day!”

Geralt's eyes drift down to where Jaskier is patting his own thighs, and he's distracted by the subtle clench and shift of muscle hidden beneath pale golden fabric that is very unsuitable for hiking. Perhaps it's because he's in the bard's company so frequently, but Geralt has hardly noticed the gradual change in Jaskier's physique. In Geralt's imagination, Jaskier is still the eighteen-year-old ne'er-do-well that he picked up like a flea in Posada's tavern.

Before him, Jaskier is hale and strong. The two images grate upon each other in Geralt's mind. Eventually he realises he's staring, and jerks his gaze away with shame pinching pink at his ear-tips.

If Jaskier noticed the transgression, Geralt cannot tell. The bard is chattering about sewing and boots and something about – fuck, his smallclothes – and he's still skipping. Even as he talks, Jaskier hums. Geralt sets his mouth into a hard line and resolutely keeps his eyes upon the horizon.

----------------

“Pass the fish.”

“Get it yourself.” Jaskier smugly taunts Geralt from atop his makeshift throne of stone, a boulder that he is sat upon, the fire-roasted food beside him. He's finished eating, and is now preoccupied with his notebook. Geralt glares at him; Jaskier does not take notice.

With an irritated grunt, Geralt pushes himself up, leaning over Jaskier's lap to reach for the plate. As he does so, Jaskier's leg slots between Geralt's own. In a move so subtle it might be mistaken for accident, Jaskier rubs the length of his thigh gently along Geralt's soft, cloth-covered prick.

It twitches with instant interest, and Geralt makes a quiet moan in the back of his throat. He freezes in place, mortified. Jaskier chuckles, faux-sweet.

“I saw you leering at my legs, earlier. See something you like, darling witcher?”

Jaskier's breathy voice makes Geralt prick all over with interest, and his cock fattens further in his breeches. He shivers. That silky-slippery thigh presses a bit harder, grinds nice and slow, and Geralt finds himself obediently rolling his hips.

“Mm-hmm,” Jaskier purrs, “that's what I thought.”

Dinner forgotten, Geralt plants both his hands firmly on either side of Jaskier on the rock, shuffling his feet apart, rutting in time with Jaskier's movements. He can feel the thick muscle shifting beneath Jaskier's pants, cobra-coiled and disciplined, and the potential strength of it makes Geralt feel dizzy. Geralt fumbles for the buttons on his own trousers, fingers clumsy, but Jaskier pulls away.

“Ah, ah,” Jaskier tuts, “you like my thighs so much, you'll take your pleasure from them, and them alone. Go on, darling.” The leg re-appears, and Geralt whimpers gratefully. “That's it. Fuck against me, gorgeous.”

The adoring nicknames are making Geralt stupid, and he thinks he might do anything Jaskier says at this point, so long as he keeps his damn thigh there. Everything else dissolves into the background around him as Geralt humps faster and harder against Jaskier's leg like an animal, friction-fucked, a wet spot growing at the front of his breeches. It feels impossibly good.

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier encourages, “just like that. Look at you, so needy and beautiful. I want to feel you come against my thigh, Geralt. Wanna feel your prick swell and throb and know it was all me.”

Geralt does not know how Jaskier can be so verbose, because his own faculties have utterly failed, but some part of him is grateful. All the things Jaskier says just spur Geralt on faster, turn him on more, have him aching and bordering on feral with the urge for release.

And then Jaskier grips Geralt's arse, guiding his thrusts more directly, tighter. “So good, you're so good,” Jaskier whispers, “let go for me.”

Restraint flees him as Geralt jerks down and grips Jaskier's hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises, his prick pulsing hard and wet in his smallclothes. Geralt's voice breaks on a deep groan as he comes, flooding his own pants with thick spurts that seem unending, soaking through to the material of Jaskier's trousers. He finds himself trembling and breathless in the wake of it all, utterly filthy and strung-out.

Jaskier giggles musically, pressing a chaste kiss to Geralt's cheek. “You're doing the laundry this week, dearest witcher.”

Geralt snorts, eased by the joke. “Fair,” he agrees, “but if that's to be the case, I think I'll make it more worth my while.”

Snatching Jaskier up from the rock, Geralt tumbles onto the bedroll already laid out on the ground, delighting in Jaskier's giddy squeals. The bard isn’t the only one with thigh tricks to share that night.

[the-fiction-witch]

Mariée Au Mal

REAL LIFE X DEVIL / WITCHES COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: FLIRTY

I walked the stone streets hearing my boots against the stone. Hearing the movement of my dress almost touching the stone. I felt the chill of the wind around me. The darkness crept across the village as the sun set beyond the hill. Every step I took I could hear and see, children being ushered inside, doors being bolted, windows being shut and locked. The whispers of the name they had given me. 'mariée au mal' I knew what it meant. I knew their assumptions about me. I tried not to think of it.

I looked at my shadow walking down the path with the light from the sunset, I looked to my left to a shop the blind already down, but a few shutters where someone peaked out, those instantly dropped as I looked and the door bolted I saw my reflection my long purple dress, black petticoats, black corset, my black hooded cloak, my tall riding boots, my twisted y/h/c hair and blood red lips. I continued on my way moving my wicker basket up my arm a little more, checking on the lavender and honey I had gathered across the forest this afternoon. I walked quickly trying not to draw attention to myself before reaching the graveyard and the little river that ran beside it, perched on the graveyard gate sat a raven it cawed at me so I smiled and offered my hand letting it perch on my ring as I walked over the little stone bridge over the river pushing open the little gate to my house. The twisted metal whining as I did I walked the sweet path through my garden until I arrived at my little thatched cottage with leaded glass windows and the conversatory. I smiled and headed inside my little house though the glass conservatory door putting my basket down emptying out my herbs and honey into my apothecary as the raven flew off into the house and perched on the sofa on his usual pillow

"Hello my little princess" he smirked 

"Will you just. One damn minute" I told him

"What? What have I done?" He whines getting up and coming over fixing his clothes a little but I did my best not to look at him 

"I'm working" I said 

"Umm working? I think your just being mean to me" he smirked into my ear untying my cloak and pulling it off me "come in you can work anytime, I don't get to visit to much anymore, not half as often as I'd like my sweet little princess" he cooed cuddling me from behind "and I have missed you, so badly" he smirked almost growing in my ear as he pushed himself against my dress

"Thomas. Five minutes alright, you've been gone six months five more minutes isn't going to kill you" I laughed 

"It might"

"Nothing kills you"

"Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?" 

"No."

"Good." He says kissing my shoulder "I'm sorry I was gone so long."

"Umm" I said ignoring him

"Aww? Is that why your so grumpy with me?" He laughs before turning me around to face him as he stood in my conservatory his golden hair reflecting the sunsets light, his red textured button down shirt undone half way down his chest, his tight black almost leather pants against him, black braces or suspenders on his shoulders to keep them up even if I don't think he needed them, stubble gracing his chin and the corners of his upper lip but nowhere near as bad as I had seen before when he's been away for longer his hands around me softly his foot between my own "I told you it was work, you know I wouldn't leave my little princess unless I had to" he cooes caressing my cheek "it's a busy job you know, I keep telling you I'll... Take you with me if you want?"

"No thank you" I said turning back to my work "I wish you wouldn't wait there"

"Where? On the gate?"

"Umm. Why not in the garden?"

"You might not see me, besides I like them knowing I'm here"

"You might I don't. It makes them nervous and when people get nervous they get scared and when people get scared they do stupid things." I explained

"Well... Maybe they need a little fear in them"

"I don't want to be feared, Thomas..."

"Don't you?" He laughs sitting in my work bench so I had no choice but to see him "you get off on it"

"What?"

"Oh come on" he laughs "riding boots with the six inch heels? The long purple dress? The black corset? Blood red lipstick? Long black hooded cloak? And you're telling me you don't want to be feared? You love it"

"It's fun sometimes" I admit

"I know it is princess, maybe you and me should go walking in the town sometime really frighten them" he smirked 

"No Thomas. We're in enough trouble as it is" I told him 

"mariée au mal" he smirked to himself 

"Shut up" I sighed 

"It's a good name for you"

"I said shut up Thomas"

"Bride of evil"

"Married to evil"

"Depends on your translation." He shrugs 

"Why did I marry you?" I asked leaning on my desk to slightly glare at him 

"I don't know, you asked me remember" he smirked, kissing my cheek and jumping off the desk going into the cottage "you coming to bed? Or do I have to drag my pretty bride down to hell with me to fuck her?" He smirked,

I smiled as I laid in my bed listening to the wind in the tree's, the sounds of animals in the woods, the babble of the river under the bridge, the quiet of this peaceful little town. I could hear Thomas Gently breathing, his arm around my waist spooning me as he often did wanting to keep me safe in his arms so if I even moved much less left his arms he would know and it would wake him. I couldn't help my mind flooding with the memories of the first night I ever spend on his arms.

I was young, but old enough to know better. I would go and play by the tall willow tree in the forest. I would go and spend hours and hours reading books and gathering flowers. Often times I would speak to the tree and many times it would speak back to me. I had always been a woman on the darker side of the world. I liked the grim and the spooky, I had a fondness for the darkness and what often times lurked within it. I had always been wary of straying too far, never leaving a door open, never offering things without consistency, never going too far if you won't commit to it. Rules I followed like laws, until one night. It was a blood moon, it hung over the willow and that night I decided I wanted to see just how far I could go.

I made an altar at the willows roots, with candles, herbs, a salt circle, flowers, and tools. I called out things but nothing answered. Each time I called out going deeper and deeper until someone answered me. 

"Hello, aren't you beautiful" he smirked as he saw me "not often I get such a beautiful woman calling out to me" 

"I uhh i-" stuttered in shock 

"Shh, it's alright. I guess you don't get answers very often. No need to worry, sweet girl. I won't hurt you" 

"I seek what is to be" I said

"Do you?" He smirked "clever girl as well as beautiful. Are you sure that's what you want?" He asks 

"Yes"

"Then a smart girl like you understands the price it takes" 

I nodded and took the cage from my basket of the small bird I had found he laughed at me 

"You have been misinformed" he says taking the cage and letting the bird loose 

"Then what is the price?"

"The price is different for everyone."

"Then for me?"

"For you?" He smirked "I can give you what you seek. But for you beautiful lady, the price is simple. Your utter love and devotion, swear your life and love for me, be mine and you shall have all that you seek" 

"How do I do this?"

"... Be with me. And swear your devotion to me" he smirked taking my hands 

"Yes master" I nodded

"Whoa... Just Thomas little princess, I'm not your master, and I won't be. You'll be my bride, still happy?" He asked and I nodded "good. Now... We're all done with the formalities, shall we? my pretty little princess? My sweet little wifey?" 

I nodded and he smirked looking at me, licking his tongue slightly across his bottom lip. He moved forward holding my Waist before leaning in and kissing me softly, he was warm, and soft, he tasted and smelt like ash, mahogany, petricorn and mint. He was gentle with me as he kissed me his thumb stroking my waist as we kissed in the moonlight, surrounded by the tree and it's leaves, the gentle breeze as the kisses got faster, deeper until he pushed me to gently laying me down on the grass in the circle of salt with him laid over me…

I woke up peacefully to the sweet symphony of bird song in the tree's. The gentle breeze whistling through the branches and leaves. The hushed sounds of the world before people rise. I was warm between the layers of my dress, one protecting me from the ground the other protecting my body, his arm around my waist his head nuzzled in my shoulder and arm fast asleep barely making a sound but his breaths. I looked seeing his sweet mop of hair nuzzled so close to me, looking up seeing the sunlight cascading through the tree as it rose, the sunlight peeking in through the leaves and branches. 

"Uumm good morning" he yawns 

"Hi" I blushed 

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing"

"No, come on tell me"

"So… that's that"

"Aww what? Was I disappointing little princess?" He whines 

"No, no. It's just that's it you know"

"Well, We’re married now”

“What?”

“We’re married. And mated.”

“So… I’m a real witch now” “You were a real witch before. But Now my bride”

“So? What are we going to uhh… going to do?”

“Well, I have to get to work soon. I’ll be down there for a couple of days but I’ll come back and snuggle up with my little wifey, I might not be home some nights. But it’s work. I'll always come back to my little princess, Like any husband and wife when a husband works away” He explained “So? Shall we head home?” 

I stood in my conservatory, the sunlight flickering through the glass, Through the leaves of the forest, the stems and petals of the flowers that grew in here or in the garden, The flicker of rain bows where light flickered through the glass or though sculpted bottles of potions and viles, as well as though light catchers. 

“Hey” Thomas smiled Leaning on my door to stare at me

“What?” I laughed 

“Nothing, I just like looking at you” He shrugs

“Go Look at your pit of sluts” 

“It’s not a pit. It’s a…. Box” 

“Go look at that then”

“Why would I go look at them? When I have my wife?”

“Go hang out with one of your other wives then” 

“What over wives?” he laughs 

“I can’t be the only witch who summoned you and… let you, you know” 

“Of course not. You’re my only wife princess.” He says 

“What about all those other-”

“Shhh, You’re my only wife princess, and if I get summoned by any other little witches in the forest I send the demons. I only come when my wife summons me” He smirked giving my cheek a kiss cuddling me tightly and stroking my stomach “Besides. I’m going to be staying from now on, as much as I can now you have the baby coming” He cooed, kissing my neck and down my shoulder as he stroked my stomach “My beautiful princess, My Beautiful bride. I get to spend all day with you now, My pretty wifey and our baby” 

“Sure thomas” I laughed “Maybe soon I’ll get to go down there?”

“You will, when the baby is born. My sweet little princess,” He cooed kissing my cheek 

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (kmart’s haunted)

Summary: (part 1) Reader has joined Douxie on the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company. (part 2) - Missouri 1     (part 3)

Warnings: swearing, very light spooky?

Word Count: 2245

A/N: so we’ve established that Doux wasn’t the one who burnt the bookstore, but they don’t know that. look, have you been in a Kmart recently? its apocalyptic. also, you know that post about people repeating their default work greetings by accident? yeah

“Do you want me to split the bill or?” The waitress asked, not sure if the group at the table was a young couple and their child or just three college kids hanging out. It was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, that one kid was so small, wearing a little deer costume, and had been helped to order. The other two radiated the energy of an old married couple and talked mainly to each other. But on the other hand, college kids are just like that sometimes.

“Nah, I got it.”

“What? No. I’m paying for us.” Douxie insisted.

“I have the cash, Doux.” (Name) turned to the waitress. She put some honey in her voice. “Just bring us one bill, please.” The waitress nodded nervously before heading off.

“No. I don’t want you paying for too many things while we’re traveling. You’re unemployed.”

“And who’s fault is that Mr. Mephits-Are-Vulnerable-To-Fire? You fucking burned down the store and put us both out of work here.” Nari was squirming at the negative vibes going on. It helped that she didn’t exactly understand what was going on.

“It was magic fire!” Douxie interjected in outrage. He looked so cute when he got defensive.

“Yeah, okay, sure.” (Name) shook her head, looking up to the ceiling. She let out a huff, “look, I invited myself onto this trip, Douxie. I want to pull my own weight. You’re going to have to let me pay for something eventually.”

“We’ll see about that, Love,” he said as he grabbed the ticket from the waitress’s hands as quick as lightning, tucked his card in and gave it right back before (Name) could further protest.

“Ugh! FINE! Then I’m getting the tip.” She pulled out a tenner and slapped it onto the table. She glared right back into Douxie’s hazel eyes. He glared right back into hers with a matched intensity. Nari looked back and forth between the two and whimpered. (Name) broke the standoff to assure Nari that they weren’t actually angry at each other so she shouldn’t be worried. That seemed to ease the forest child a bit but not by too much. She could still feel the weird aura they were putting off.

“Okay! So here’s your check back and here’s that lox bagel you ordered to go.” The waitress handed (Name) a doggy bag.

(Name) took the bag gingerly. A big fake smile spread across her face as she was momentarily possessed by that good spirit of customer service. “Thank you! I hope your experience was spellbinding! Have a magical day!” (Name) said on autopilot in that high-pitched voice and winked exaggeratedly. It was like she was an NPC and her talk button had been accidentally pushed. The waitress laughed forcibly and scurried away to the kitchen. Douxie cracked up.

“You do know that when I told you to say all that stuff after ringing people up, I was hazing you, right?”

“Oh yes, I am completely aware, Doux. Did you think I’d not pick up on how ridiculous that sounds? But I still say it to spite you.”

He shook his head. “Of course.”

***

Archie scarfed down his bagel sandwich with almost disturbing speed. It was like watching the void consume, well, a bagel sandwich. It just disappeared. Down his furry maw and out of existence. Being a dragon works up an appetite, after all. (Name) was a bit baffled and asked him if she should go get him another bagel. He assured her that the one was just fine and said something about trying to catch some birds later. She leaned back on her elbows against the boat’s railing, trying and failing to not think about the details of that.

Douxie cleared his throat. “So,” He folded his hands together for emphasis, “Since the subject of money came up earlier, I think we should also discuss the topic of our accommodations.”

“Well, you two obviously cannot afford lodging every night.” Archie snarked, flicking his tail.

“Thank you, for that, Arch. No, I was thinking more along the lines of a tent.”

“A tent?” the cat asked incredulously.

“Oh, that could work.” (Name) pointed at Douxie animatedly, “keep us close to nature for Nari. And also could keep our possible property damage bills down. Good idea, Doux.”

“Thank you,” Douxie puffed up, “see Arch? Someone appreciates my ideas-”

“Wait. That’ll be a short-term solution. We’re just barely into September. It’s going to be much, much colder in about a month. By October it’ll be too cold to bear. Even if we all huddle together like penguins.”

Doux looked away to hide his blush at the suggestion. “That is a problem. Okay, um-”

“Maybe we could just cross that bridge when we get there? Who knows what could happen between now and then. We could find so temp work in a little town somewhere.” (Name) shrugged, smirking at Doux. She didn’t want to admit that ‘we could be dead by then’ was also definitely a possibility on the table, so she tried to further distract from that thought. “Maybe we’ll find a creepy abandoned cabin in the woods we can squat in. Maybe some nice trolls will take us in as novelty pets. Maybe my rich Aunty Josie could just suddenly die under some ‘mysterious circumstances’ and leave her lavish fortune to her beloved niece,” she smirked at Doux, “I dunno, just spit ballin’ here.”

“I’m electing to ignore that you just suggested we ice your aunt because you were onto something there.”

“I was?” Her tone was a mixture of sarcasm and disbelief.

“Yes! New Jersey!

“New Jersey?” The wheels turned. “Oh! New Jersey!”

Nari looked confused. “What is special about this ‘New Jersey’?” she asked

Both Douxie and (Name) turned to her, “Trolls.” They said in sync.

***

(Name) stood there with her hands in her pockets. Somehow this Kmart was still standing, out here in The-Middle-Of-Fucking-Nowhere, Missouri. She was standing here, in a Kmart. It might as well have been 1986. There was barely anything on the shelves. Half the shelves themselves were missing. The floor had a layer of grime to it, in spite of the wet floor sign along with the shiny patches that said that it had clearly been mopped recently. The air smelled like something (Name) couldn’t quite place, but it was nostalgic. A strange scent that took her back to her childhood. Or at least she thought it was her childhood. It had to have been. Taking deep breaths, she couldn’t quite get enough of it.

Continuing that vibe, a muzak 80’s tune played over the speakers. Funny enough, despite (Name)’s brain seeming to recognize that it was playing a song from the 80’s, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it as to which. Every time she thought she’d figured it out, she’d hear a few notes that would somehow change her mind. It was a pop song at least, to narrow it down. It’d been going on for about six minutes now. Must be one of those extended tracks.

She’d ask Douxie what he thought the song was. She turned her attention to him and noticed he was still just staring at that same shelf like he had been for, what, ten minutes now? Even though this fucking Kmart barely had any shelving in it, by some miracle it not only had exactly what they were looking for but an entire aisle of them. How lucky was that.

Douxie was taking very careful consideration into this tent purchase. This was going to be their new home, after all. He just couldn’t decide which one was best. They all had fancy camping terms on the packages that meant nothing to him. He’d been trying to decipher the code. The secret outdoorsman code. Nari shifted uncomfortably in the basket.

“Hisirdoux, you should maybe, hurry this along?” She sounded strained.

But she was right. He should just pick one already. It’s all a gamble anyway. He decided on a dark green one that boasted a water-proof material. Good natural color, not easily spotted, and it wouldn’t soak through with rain. That should work well enough, he figured.

“I’ve hurried along. Sorry Nari.” He casually tossed the box into the cart next to her. She sniffed the box and nodded to him.

Now that they had their goal item, the quest party started for the checkouts. Douxie could have sworn that it had been on the side of the store they were in. They had passed it when they came in. Now it was completely across by the other door. Did he get turned around? Or maybe they did come in from that side of the store. He actually couldn’t remember.

As they walked, a few things caught (Name)’s eye. They passed a display of dark leafy plants in oddly shaped pots, a table stacked high with various books and a clearance sign, a knife case that had been left open, a candle display with a few that had already been lit and were dripping wax, a bargain bin of CDs, and lastly a sad box of no-longer-in-season pool noodles. There was a sale on bloodmeal apparently. Perfect for perking up those roses after the summer heat.

They arrived at the checkout after what felt like an endless journey. (Name) hadn’t noticed any other customers the entire time they had been there, and yet the line for the only check open had seven people in it. She grabbed a couple bags of red licorice from the impulse shelf to add to their cart while waiting.

Nari was really interested in that checker. (Name) took her in. The teen was taller than most and had very, very long blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a shiny golden waterfall. Her cheeks were slightly sunken in. Must be going through a diet phase. Poor girl.

The young woman was obviously not one for small talk. Name couldn’t blame her. Retail sucks. Her perfect red fingernails clicked against the keys of the register in a practiced beat. She turned around and told them their total in a bored monotone. As Douxie fiddled with his wallet and payed, (Name) found herself staring right into the cashier’s eyes. They were such a light icy blue, they were almost white. It was striking. (Name) was almost in a trance. It was broken as the cashier turned around swiftly to rip off the receipt off the machine, and, in an uncharacteristically cheery voice, told them to have a nice night. Night?

They returned the cart back to the stack, grabbing their one singular shopping bag and helping Nari out. Of course Nari could easily just jump out herself, but that wouldn’t be something a human child could do. They didn’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves here. They made their way to the automatic sliding doors that lagged so that they didn’t open until you were standing right in front of them. This allowed Douxie time to catch a glimpse of the reflection in the glass. The reflection of the store was completely devoid of people. Not even the checker was at her station. He sucked in a breath. After walking through those first doors, he stopped. He took a moment to turn back. There she was, right where she should be, checking out another customer with three more in the line.

Douxie hurried along the doorway to catch up to (Name) and Nari. It was darker outside than he expected, and he was taken aback. He found them right outside the store, waiting for him. In one hand, (Name) was holding Nari’s, in the other, the plastic shopping bag. Her head was tipped up to the sky, transfixed by the moon. He came over, grabbing her shoulder as he pulled her along, in an attempt to urge her away from this place. She looked back at him, eyes wide with distress. He tried to convey that he understood with his eyes. All three of them instinctually knew not to say anything more why they were still in this parking lot.

It had barely been half past noon when they had started this little Kmart side quest. It was now at least seven by the looks of it. They had spent six and a half hours in a Kmart? How had they spent six and a half hours in a Kmart. There went their entire travel day. But no time to dwell on this, they needed to get back to Archie and the boat as soon as possible.

As they walked back towards the ship, (Name) and Douxie both took one of Nari’s hands so that she was in the middle, like how those couples walk with their children. The streetlights glared up at them in the slick pavement. Apparently, it had rained while they were in shopping limbo. Poor Arch. (Name) let out a puff of air.

“Well. That sure was something.”

Douxie nervously chuckled, “If we had stayed in there any longer, I think we might have died.” (Name) mirrored that nervous chuckle.

“Oh, no, dying would be much simpler than what would have happened to us.” Nari said sweetly, like what she was saying was somehow better. Nari liked being helpful. (Name) put on her best fake smile.

“Thank you, Nari.” She tried her best to sound as sincere as possible to spare the veggie lady’s feelings.

[elles-writing]

Love Potion - Kili x fem!reader  - Day 1/13

Love potion

Pairing: Kili x reader

Warnings/triggers: Kili’s puppy eyes, mentions of Fili’s and Kili’s cooking/baking

Genre: fluff

Word: Potion - Day 1/13

Word count: 2066

A/N: First piece to 13 days of spooky writing event by @dumbassunderthemountain !! I lately felt unconfident about my writing, so I’ve decided to put on some up-beat music, different attitude and some schedule and this event came really handy! I hope this will make you feel cozy like it made me while I was writing it!

Tags: @dumbassunderthemountain @moony-artnstuff​ @artsywaterlily @trxblemaker @luna-xial

Message me if you want to be added/removed to taglist!

Celebrating Durin’s Day was always an event. Not just an event – through every celebration in Erebor was a huge thing so far – but it was the event of the year. The dwarves spended months of preparations just for this celebration, but they didn’t seemed to be too bothered by it. No. They were excited. Excited to celebrate, especially when The Lonely Mountain was reclaimed back and the Durin’s line survived the battle of five armies.

Thorin was a great king, there was no doubt about it. It was a two years of time since Erebor was reclaimed back, and even if nobody from the Company didn’t insisted you to stay, you deep down knew they did it just so you wouldn’t feel pressured and were ovejoyed when you said you’ll stay with them. Why would you say no, anyways? They became a close family to you through the quest.

After the battle, when a part of dwarves arrived, Fili and Kili got a stunning idea – that you’d meet their mother, Dis. You’ve heard about her from stories they told you and you were nervous that she won’t like you, but oh boy, you were proved wrong! You two became a good friends, you were even something like a daughter to her.

Especially when Fili or Kili (or both of them) would prank you, she was unstoppable. In those moments you realized that they didn’t lied when talked that she made sure they’d apologize. Properly.

It was a two days until Durin’s Day and you were in the kitchens. It was late afternoon and the cooks got their work quickly done, thanks to some cooks from Dale, who helped them out. Now, you were making an apple pie, chatting with Dis and wondering when will Fili and Kili show up. They didn’t got too many duties today, thanks to Thorin, who was busy by some last details about the celebration, so they were free by noon.

Soft golden light was creeping inside, and if you would look out from the windows, you’d see trees with leaves coloured in many different shades from yellow, orange and red, to brown. The whole Erebor now smelled like old leaves, warm spices, tea, apples and pears, in addition to usual smell that has been there. It created nice mix and it made you to feel warm and safe.

You huffed and placed your flour-covered hands on your hips, frowning down on the pie. Dis noticed your intense stare and followed your gaze.

„It looks very nice, dear. Don’t feel discouraged, I’m sure it will be much better than last year.“ You both giggled.

Last year was Bombur and Bilbo teaching you and the Durin’s brothers to bake pies and pasteries with apples, because there was a lot of them. Also as a punishment, when they wanted to prank Bofur and didn’t counted on Thorin and Dain walking right into it, instead of Bofur. You didn’t did it with them, of course, you just wanted to learn how to bake.

Long story short, it was the last time everyone have seen Kili and Fili to cook, as far as you knew. To bake, too. Because as much as they could fight and throw pranks, that much they couldn’t cook, and accidently, their and your pie ended up as a pile of ashes.

But now, neither of them were here.

And despite that cooking lesson, you were getting worried.

You looked at your pie again and sighed.

„Alright, I’ll let it be like this. Let’s hope it won’t end up burned.“ You both chuckled again.

Once the pie was baking, you sat down to Dis and started sipping on your cold tea. But it didn’t took too long, when you’ve heard familiar pair of steps and voices in quiet argument.

When they entered the kitchen, you’ve took a look who it was. Fili and Thorin, Thorin nodding at his sister and you and then walking away. Fili just sighed and sat down to you.

„Bilbo haven’t arrived yet and it’s making Thorin worried,“ Fili said and you nodded. You knew that Bilbo had a special place in everybody’s, especially Thorin’s heart. They usually wrote letters to each other. Bilbo has always made it in time to be there for Durin’s Day, and you didn’t doubted the halfling was alright. This year was more rainy than the year before and you truly believed he just needed more stops and wait until the rain didn’t stopped, so he could continue his path here.

You reached out and patted his shoulder.

„I believe that Bilbo is okay. He will come, I’m sure of it.“ You smiled at him and he nodded.

„You’re perhaps right, Y/N. Wait,“ He frowned and looked at you properly, from head to toe. Then, his face brightened.

„You were baking?“ You scoffed and rolled your eyes with a smile.

„Yes, I did. I’ve got a sweet tooth for something before the celebration.“ You’ve seen Fili’s eyes to sparkle in mischieve. But it wasn’t Fili who spoke up.

„Really? I believe you’re already sweeter than honey, sweetheart. Do I smell a pie?“ You turned to him and noticed his sparkling eyes. He winked at you and your cheeks reddened like autumn apples.

„And I believe I’m smelling and seeing a mud.“ Dis said, looking at her son. It was actually true – Kili’s hair was a mess, there were leaves of many different colours and twiggs in it, his clothes were wrinkled and he had dirt and mud on his clothes and in his hair, too. It was a miracle his face was almost clean.

„What you were doing, Kee?“ You asked him. He usually wasn’t this dirty. He grinned.

„I was showing some children from Dale around the fruit garden.“ Dis raised an eyebrow.

„Okay, I was playing with them here, too. But it was fun!“ You and Fili were chuckling. You knew that Kili would do it anyways – it was usually you three who would be jumping to piles of leaves, climbing up the trees and having a fight with mud, but today you spended in library and here in the kitchens.

Dis shot Kili a look and he sighed and rose his hands in defeat.

„What? It was fun! And besides,“ he grinned,

„nobody was injured.“ You all knew this counted. Before anyone could get Dis‘ reaction, a servant came in and said that Thorin sended for her. You thought that maybe Bilbo arrived.

When Dis left, you got up to check on the pie. Kili started picking leaves from his hair. Fili was looking from you to his brother, seeing how painfully obvious it was by the glances you threw each other when the other wasn’t looking, since the beginning of the quest, that you‘ve fancied each other.

For the last two years, Kili was flirting with you more and calling you only by nice and sweet nicknames, but you knew Kili was flirty like this, so it wasn’t anything too unusual. He looked like a flustrated puppy with pouting face, whenever you shook it off and wasn’t looking.

„It’s done,“ You said and took the pie out.

„It’s great you can bake,“ Fili said, looking down at the pie.

„It’s not that hard. You just need to follow the instructions.“ You three chuckled, knowing damn well that Fili and Kili and instructions or rules weren’t really too friendly.

„I’m hungry, can I take a bite, sweetie?“ Kili’s pleading chocolate eyes were set on you, looking like a puppy. Your heart melted, but you knew the pie was too hot to be eaten.

You placed your hands on your hips, looking at the brothers, mischievous smile spreading on your face.

„I’ll give you a piece, but you will have to wash yourself first.“ Kili pouted and bitten his lip slightly.

„It’s not fair that Fili will get the first one.“ You smirked.

„Who said Fili’s gonna get the first piece?“

„Hey!“ You all chuckled.

„I mean it, go wash yourself, Kee. Besides, it’s still too hot, it needs to cool down.“ Kili’s puppy eyes looked deep into your e/c  eyes again, only to realize you truly meant it. So when he stood between the doors, he winked at you.

„It’s not hot in comparison with you, my dear.“ And he left. Your yaw fell down and he let your cheeks flushed. Fili have seen the whole scene and smirked.

„It almost looks like he drank some love potion back in Bag-End and so did you, doesn’t it?“ You looked down to your feet, smiling to yourself.

„I think the red wine did it.“

„Aye, of course lass.“

When Kili came back with wet hair and clean clothes, you chuckled and pointed to his piece of pie.

„There you go,“ You said with a smirk to cover your nervousness. Fili almost rolled his eyes. Into a different dimension.

„Just say it already!“ He said, flustrated. You looked at Kili, who paled a bit, but then his face flushed.

„Oh yeah, I, uhm like you a lot, sweetheart.“ He looked like a flustrated puppy, and soft giggle escaped to your mouth. His own lips spreaded into cheeky smirk, like he usually worn.

„I-will you to court me?“ He looked at you with wide, nervous eyes. You held your breath and could not believe his words. He was asking you if you wanted to court him.

When you realized he was waiting for your response, you quickly nodded.

„Y-yes, o-of course I want to court you, Kili.“ You smiled and his eyes lighted up.

„Mahal, she said yes! Fili, did you heard that?! She said yes!“ And in a second, he was kissing your whole face. You were giggling when his hair touched your face.

„Kili, it tickles,“

„Fili, Kili, what’s all this about-“ Thorin came in. You three turned to him, seeing there was also Bilbo and rest of the Company, plus Dis. Bilbo seemed uncomfortable for a second, but then he smiled, as well as most of the Company. Dis‘ smile was the proudest, but it was hard to say. They were all happy and proud that you two stopped dancing around each other

„U-uncle,“ Kili looked at him.

„Well, I would like to announce, that me and Y/N are courting.“ He looked at you and you nodded. Dis placed her hands on her hips.

„When did you planned on telling us, you two?“ You looked at Fili and Kili.

„Well, it’s been just a while since we’re courting.“ Dis peeked to her second son, and Fili only grinned.

„Aye, but what does it matter? They’re the most perfect couple in the whole Middle-Earth!“ The rest of the dwarves cheered and Thorin’s face had warm smile, that one you’ve been seeing for past two years much more, since Erebor was reclaimed.

You noticed a tall figure and when you’ve seen a long grey robe, you were sure who it was.

„Gandalf! You arrived, too!“ He smiled at you and Kili.

„Indeed, I arrived with Bilbo. And as I can see, it was in time.“ you smiled.

„Oh yes, indeed.“ You looked at Kili. Then you rembered.

„Actually, I baked an apple pie today, can I offer you a piece?“  You offered to him and he nodded.

„It’s nice from you, miss Y/N.“

„Wait, you baked a pie, lass?“ Bofur came to take a look.

„It’s not a pile of ashes?“ Dwalin said and shot a look to Kili and Fili. You laughed.

„No, now sit down, or I’m not going to give you anything! I mean all of you!“

You didn’t noticed Bilbo was making a tea. You realized that when he handed you a cup and whispered.

„It’s called Love Potion, but it’s actually a mix of warm spices and some sweet fruits. I also know about that wine you and Kili tasted in Bag-End,“ He gave you a bit mischievous smile and shook your head.

„I believe that Fili told you, if I’m not mistaken?“

„Well, yes. He also told me to bring this mix for you as a gift for your birthday, when I was there only last year.“ he said. You smiled and looked over at Kili.

„You sure it was just a wine, Bilbo?“ He raised a brow.

„What else would it be? I’m not a wizard.“

„But surely you know one.“ He smiled.

„Fair enough.“