#i saw the prompt was legend week and....

[clori-eden]

[blkkizzat]

ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.

Enjoy!

“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”

Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.

Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!

Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.

Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 

A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 

Choso breathed in deeply. 

A wave of calm washed over him. 

Peace. 

Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 

It was beautiful. 

Blood was beautiful.

The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.

Like a painting. 

A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 

This was his art.

Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 

He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.

Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 

Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 

It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 

From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 

He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  

Choso was meticulous in his process. 

Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 

His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 

Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 

Almost midnight. 

Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.

He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 

☠

In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 

The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.

No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 

You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 

“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”

“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 

Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.

With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.

“Ladies–” 

However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 

Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.

“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    

Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 

They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.

“Choso!”

You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.

“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 

Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.

Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 

If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.

“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.

Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 

You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.

You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 

This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.

“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.

“Duh Choso–” 

You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.

“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”

Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Of course he knew about the party. 

The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 

However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 

He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.

“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”

“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 

“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”

Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.

“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.

But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 

“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”

You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).

Choso swallowed. 

On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 

The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 

Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.

“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.

He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.

“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 

The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 

With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 

He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.

He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.

“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 

You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.

You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 

“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 

Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.

“But I’m not alone silly!” 

You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 

They looked absolutely miserable. 

“I have my pledges!” 

Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 

“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.

Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.

“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.

“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”

You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.

As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.

“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.

It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 

You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 

You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 

Shit. 

Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.

You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.

Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 

His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.

Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 

Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.

He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.

Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.

“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”

“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 

Really don’t. 

Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.

He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.

“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 

He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.

You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 

Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”

Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 

Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 

‘Thank God!’’ 

‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’

‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’

‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’

‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 

‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 

–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 

You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 

Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 

He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 

He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 

You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 

Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 

You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 

Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 

He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 

Also you did have a boyfriend. 

An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.

Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 

He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.

☠

Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.

Twice. 

The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 

Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.

It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.

He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 

You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?

You would make a beautiful death painting too.

Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 

The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 

Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?

Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.

Fuck. 

He was hard again. 

He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.

God, he was pathetic.

☠

The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 

You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.

He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 

You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.

Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 

You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 

You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 

Surely you had the wrong classroom.

“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.

“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.

He looked at it and back at you twice.

“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”

Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 

Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 

You didn’t look like you would last.

Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.

You proved him wrong though. 

You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 

You were also a hard worker. 

It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 

You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 

The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.

Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 

Choso put a hand over his face. 

He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.

Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.

It was making Choso a bit reckless. 

Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 

He had to move more carefully. 

Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.

“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 

You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 

Speak of the devil.

You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.

This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.

“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.

“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”

How could he forget?  

However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 

See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 

But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.

“Oh and sorry!” 

You interrupted his thoughts once again.

“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”

Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 

At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.

He would never know any peace.

“Keep it as long as you need.”

“Kay!”

You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 

“Oh Crap!” 

You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.

“Y/N, Watch out!” 

Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.

“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 

You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.

Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 

He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  

“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.

You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.

“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.

“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 

“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 

“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 

Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 

Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 

And so he does.

Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.

You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 

Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  

You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 

You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.

Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 

Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 

You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 

Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.

“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.

Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 

Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 

“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 

No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.

“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 

You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 

You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 

“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 

Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.

“I- that is.. I meant-”

Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 

“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.

“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.

“Hey!” 

Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.

You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 

You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.

Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 

You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 

“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.

Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  

Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.

If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–

“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 

“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.

“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.

Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 

Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?

“Uh hey, Dean I..” 

You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 

His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.

“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”

Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 

Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 

Tch. 

With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 

This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.

Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.

Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 

You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 

You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.

The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.

“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 

“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 

Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 

You could not let this turn into an incident.

“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”

A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 

Just her T.A.

Right.

Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.

He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 

Not anymore.

“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 

Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.

You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 

You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.

“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”

Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 

Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 

Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 

“W-wait Cho–”  

You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13

comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories

please stop to take a look at this wonderful art of the last scene that @laikatsuki created, tysm again pookie bears!!!

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!

PART 2

[galactic-magick]

here i come with arcane prompts bestie >:3

but this one might hurt ;-;

also SPOILERS FOR S1 IF ANYONE HASNT SEEN IT YET

/////

how about a reader's reaction to the council getting bombed O_O

their frantic attempts to find their lover(Viktor ofc :3), but who they find may not be the man they once knew TwT

I got a little carried away with this one bestie...

-

I Thought You Were Dead: Viktor x Reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Smut about halfway through. I put a *** before the smut starts in case anyone doesn't want to read that part. Reader has afab anatomy but no pronouns or feminine specific endearments are used. Also LORE SPOILERS, if you don't know what happens to Viktor in the League of Legends lore then don't read this!!

Author's Notes: This could be read as a part 2 to my other Viktor fic Nights Like This, which takes place in Act 1 whereas this takes place after season 1.

-

-

-

The explosion was deafening.

You can feel your soul sink as soon as you step outside your house, watching the smoke surround the council building. Your feet start running before you’ve processed anything, pushing through the gasping crowds in the streets with their eyes glued to the same devastating spectacle.

Tears stream down your face against the dusty wind, praying to anyone who will listen that your worst fear hasn’t happened. Running as if getting there faster might change the outcome.

It can’t end like this. Not when you haven’t said everything you want to say. Not when you have so much left to do together.

Not when you haven’t said goodbye.

The truth is, you haven’t even seen your husband in several days, maybe even a whole week. He’s been distant lately, so consumed by his experiments that he rarely comes home anymore. You knew what you were getting into marrying a scientist, especially the finest scientist in Piltover, but it still hurts. It hurts to see him driving himself mad and getting sicker, refusing to let you take care of him like he used to. He doesn’t like when you come to visit him at the lab because it’s too dangerous, and he doesn’t come home because he wants to be in the lab—so you’ve stopped trying. You can’t bear to see him hardly eat or sleep for days. You know he loves you, and you still love him, but right now there’s no getting through to him, and all you can do is wait it out until he either comes to his senses or succumbs to his torturous research.

Your mind flashes back to all the fights you had, begging him to come home, begging him to let you stay by his side. You both said things you shouldn’t have, hearts torn apart in mourning of a marriage that once was so perfect. You miss the nights where you were each other's safe space, where the world didn’t feel so grand and overwhelming. You wonder when it was exactly that you stopped fighting, when you gave up on begging and simply loved him as much as you could whenever you finally saw him.

A large battalion of enforcers encircle the scene, pushing back civilians as they attempt to view what happened. The rubble has fallen into mountains, several of them on fire.

You know he was in there. He must’ve been.

“Where are the survivors?!” you demand, shoving against the enforcers.

“We have not found any yet. Please return to your home-”

You pull out the knife you keep in your pocket for emergencies, pressing it against the enforcer’s throat, “My husband was in there. I am not leaving until I find him.”

The other enforcers turn their weapons towards you, and you quickly realize you’ll never beat them with nothing but a dagger and deep rooted rage.

You drop the knife to the ground and put your hands up, awaiting your fate. Would they kill you? Send you home with a warning? Trial you?

Well, not without a council.

“Please…” the sobs return, their weapons still pointing at you. “I just want to know if he’s alive. Just let me look for his body-”

You’re cut off by hands on your wrists and mouth, handcuffing you and knocking you out.

Several months later...

You should’ve known any retaliation against an enforcer could get you thrown in here.

Back against the stone wall of your cell in Stillwater, you envision that day once again, hating yourself for being so stupid. Without the council, the enforcers have started throwing literally anyone in here. In an attempt to contain the chaos of no longer having a government, even the smallest crime or protest is equivalent to murder. All you did was threaten an officer for information on your husband, but that was enough to banish you from any possibility of ever seeing him again.

If he was alive, would he know to come find you? Or would he go back home to find you gone and assume you died? Would he throw himself back into his research regardless of the tragic accident, not even noticing you haven’t tried to visit him in months?

Most days it’s easier to just tell yourself he’s dead. The man you loved so deeply no longer exists, and you’ll never love again. This is your life now, cold and dark and hopeless.

You sink to the floor, leaning on your side in an effort to get some sleep.

Though your slumber is awakened not long after by terrifying noises down the hall.

A collection of screams, an alarm bell, and loud clanging fill your ears. You jump up, looking through the bars of your cell to get a glimpse. You see nothing, but then begin to hear stomping footsteps thundering towards your end of the hall.

You stumble back to the far wall, shaking as the footsteps get closer.

The first thing you see is a pair of glowing orange eyes staring at you through the bars, and your breath leaves your lungs.

Is this really how you’re fated to die?

With ease, the mysterious figure rips off the door with what looks like a mechanical arm. The dim light hits him, and your entire body trembles. He’s covered in metal plating and armor, his face covered with a thick mask. He doesn’t strike you as human, except for what looks like human hair falling around his head.

He walks towards you, and you cower in his shadow. What does this machine want from you? You have nothing.

He says your name, and you freeze. It’s modulated and echoed from the mask, but you are certain that’s what he said.

And you’re also certain you’ve heard that voice before.

The figure reaches his hand towards you, the cold metal of his fingers touching your face. It tingles, as if there’s energy sparking through. His other hand lifts off his mask and drops it to the floor.

“Viktor?”

Parts of his face are covered with metal plating, but it’s undoubtedly him. Same eyes, same nose, same cheekbones. His hair swooping down the sides of his forehead and the small gap between his teeth.

You throw your arms around him and kiss him, your body hitting his metal torso hard enough to leave a bruise, but you don’t care. You kiss him until there’s not a single atom of oxygen left in your lungs, and even then you risk a few seconds more, his lips worthy of causing suffocation. Your fingers slide into his hair, just as soft as your remember. He gently embraces you back, wary of hurting you with how tightly he wishes to hold you.

“Viktor—I went to find you that day—“ you pant for air. “I thought you were dead—“

“I know, darling, I know,” he kisses your forehead before fervently returning to your lips. “I thought you were dead too before I heard word of people being sent here.”

He breaks apart from you and you let out a soft whine, “Vik-”

“I have to get you out of here now, okay?”

You nod in understanding and grab onto him as he puts his mask back on. He races back down the hall, pushing any leftover guards out of his way. You cling onto him, in disbelief that he moves so fast with ease. So many questions run through your mind, but you know you’ll have to wait for answers.

He carries and holds you in silence until you both get to safety. You don’t recognize the place he’s taken you to, but it’s undoubtedly his space. The tools and gadgets all over the tables and walls, the dim light you don’t understand how anyone could work under, the journals with different equations written barely legibly. You wonder if your old home is still standing or has been taken by someone else. Either way, this is your home now.

With him.

He takes off his mask and you’re once again met with his beautiful face. Scarred and tired, but still more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him.

“I’m so sorry. For everything,” he says. “I know I will never be able to make it up to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I am never letting you leave my sight again.”

Your bodies instinctively wrap around each-other, him picking you up and setting you down on one of his desks. The sensation is so new, since he’s never been strong enough to lift you before. Despite the novelty though, it feels as if no time has passed, as if this is a routine you’ve done every day, his hands all over you as soon as you’re alone.

You want to ignore the insanity of all this, how the love of your life has returned to you encased in metal. You want to forego all the questions, letting him continue his kisses on your neck and the wandering fingers on your thigh. You wonder what he feels like now—if it’s different—if what he can do to you now will make you forget every tear you ever shed for him.

You sigh, completely drunk on his touches.

“Viktor…” You look into his eyes, tracing your thumbs along his now metallic jaw. “I want to know what happened to you. Please.”

His caresses slow, his focus shifting to your words, “I will tell you everything, I promise,”

You grasp his hands, “Then tell me.”

He exhales, looking down at himself. He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the truth. He doesn’t want to risk you thinking of him differently or not loving him the same. Without you, he’d have nothing left to stay human for.

After all, he’s more machine than man now.

“I was as good as dead,” he finally says. “My injuries should’ve killed me, but an old…” he hesitates, “...friend found me. He helped me use hextech and shimmer to fix and augment my body. I’m stronger now, I can help more people now, I can protect you now. I’ve evolved beyond my human ailments-”

“Viktor,” you interrupt him. “Who helped you?”

He falls silent, fully aware you already know the answer.

“How could you?” you scold him. “How could you go back to that horrid, vile man? Who knows what he really did to you?”

“Singed may have unethical methods, but I assure you I’d be dead right now without him. You wouldn’t understand-”

“I understand that he sees you as nothing more than an experiment! What’s going to happen when this new body starts to break down? He’ll replace you with more mechanical parts until there’s nothing left of you. He does anything to make his specimens survive, and you know that!”

“So you’d rather me be dead? You’d rather still be in Stillwater, rotting your days away in misery?”

The floodgates of your glassy eyes break, and you let out the ugliest of sobs that have been building up for too long. No, you don’t want him dead, of course you don’t.

But there are fates worse than death.

You clumsily grab for him, pulling him between your legs and surrounding him with your limbs. Your lips crash together once more, this time more carnal and aggressive. Regardless of how angry you are, you can’t deny that you need him desperately. He cradles your face, wiping your tears away as they fall.

“Just promise me…” you beg into his mouth. “Promise me you won’t go back there again. Stay with me.”

“I promise,” he hums. “But you have to promise me something too.”

“What?” your eyes are already fluttering deliriously.

“You have to promise you’ll let me apologize every day of the rest of our lives,” he brushes his lips against your ear while his hands wander up your shirt, “And I think I know how you want me to do it.”

Your eyes widen, shivers already running down your spine.

***

It’s been so long, your body yearning for his as if you’ve been deprived from him for an eternity. You want to feel his new hands everywhere, his new fingers inside you…

Viktor wastes no time stripping you down, your shirt and bra flung across the room. He buries his face between your breasts for a moment before hoisting you up again, carrying you to the mattress in the corner.

“Since when do you ever have a proper place to sleep in your labs?” you laugh, sinking into the unexpected comfort.

“I didn’t get it for sleeping,” he smirks, placing kisses across your chest and shoulders, “I knew what I wanted to do as soon as I rescued you.”

“You’re telling me you got this bed just to fuck me?”

“Of course,” he shrugs, completely matter-of-factually.

You chuckle, a genuine smile stretching across your face so wide it almost hurts. You haven’t laughed or felt the pure joy and bliss of being in love in so long.

“I…” Viktor speaks again, hovering over you. “I don’t know fully what this new body can do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you smile, intertwining your fingers with his. “Is it...different?”

“Everything’s different,” he leans down to kiss you again. “Let’s just hope it’s in a good way.”

You nod enthusiastically, pulling him down to you. His cold metal torso presses against yours, a surprisingly pleasant sensation. You quickly acclimate to the new textures of his figure, wondering if any skin still exists.

He remembers all the places you like to be touched and kissed, and you grow more impatient by the minute. You’ve needed him—ached for him. You want him in any way he can give you.

He pulls off the rest of your clothes, teasing his mechanical fingers in circles around your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” you moan, slithering your own fingers into his hair.

Viktor’s always been good with his hands, being an inventor and all. He’s never once failed to satisfy you with his hands alone since you’ve been together, and he certainly wasn’t stopping now. He goes slowly, constantly needing reassurance that you’re alright. There’s nothing sharp about his fingers, a relief to both of you. They move just like his old flesh did, pulsing in and out with the finest precision. There’s moments where you feel a slight vibration, although you’re unsure if he’s doing that purposefully. Either way, he keeps you in ecstasy until you eventually come undone.

You pull his lips back up to yours immediately, craving his taste. His hands run down your body once again before returning back to the same spot.

You yelp his name as he works more fingers inside you. This is unheard of, him going back for more so soon. You had grown accustomed to his low stamina from before, and you never minded multiple rounds being a rarity. But now there’s not a single hint of exhaustion on his face, his augments freeing him from much of the pain that used to plague him. Instead there’s determination in his eyes, a drive to make love to you until you can’t take it anymore.

He builds you up to your second orgasm of the night, kissing and holding you softly as you come down from it.

“Viktor…” you sigh, completely out of breath. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down his body, “Darling, I...I’m not sure if everything works the same. You don’t have to worry about me—“

“Let me try,” you plead. “Does any of this come off?”

He nods, removing the outer layers of metal with clicks and hisses. It was hard for you to tell where the armor ended and his body began, but the more he takes off, the more you recognize his familiar silhouette. There’s still patches of flesh here and there—warm skin to your fingertips, fused with the augmentations flawlessly.

And it seems the area you’ve wanted to see is one of the places untouched.

Well, not completely untouched. It’s covered in glowing purple veins, throbbing like they’ll explode any second. Viktor looks into your eyes nervously, and you reassure him with a kiss.

“It’ll be okay,” your breaths are hot, hovering over his lips. “Now tell me what you want, darling.”

“You.” he moans as your hand takes hold of his hardness.

“Everything seems to be working fine to me,” you smile, lining him up with your entrance. “I’m ready when you are.”

He’s shaking, for the first time since all his enhancements. He’s been so strong—no—indestructible, yet one look at you and the vulnerability returns in crashing waves. He’s still the same man you fell in love with, but now he could too easily hurt you.

He presses in slowly, eyes locked on your expressions for any sign of discomfort, but they never come. Instead, the noises and faces you make could be enough for him to finish right then and there if he didn’t have such control.

“Viktor…” you sigh, pulling him towards you as he bottoms out. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

He stamps kisses on your jaw, then nuzzles his nose into your neck, “You feel even better than I remembered.”

“Do I now?” you chuckle, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he looks back up at you.

“Mmhmm,” he begins to thrust in and out slowly, earning more luscious sounds from your lips.

There’s so much of him that feels the same, but the sensation is so new. Is he bigger than before? Is it just the different texture from the shimmer experiments? You’re not sure, all you truly care about is that he feels divine.

You’re both getting close, whispering “I love you’s” until the long awaited release. He holds you tightly afterwards, refusing to let go until you both catch your breath.

“Viktor,” you ruffle his hair. “As amazing as that was, I don’t think I can handle a round four.”

He chuckles, “That’s alright. I’ll only go as long as you want me to. There’s always tomorrow.”

You giggle, kissing the top of his head. You push yourself up on your elbows, looking at the mess you both made, “I think we ruined your new mattress.”

He glances as well, noticing the cum stains, some of them a light purple color, a supposed side effect of the shimmer, “We’ll get a new one. For now lets get you cleaned up.”

He picks you up in one swift motion, carrying you outside. His new lab is conveniently next to the river, and far away enough from other houses to protect your decency. The water is cold, but not unbearably so. The stickiness rinses off, and you’re left to admire your lover once again in the moonlight.

He glistens under the stars, his gaze soft and sweet, just as it’s always been. His hands never leave you, caressing your wet skin gently and adoringly.

He’s still everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s still the man you’d die and kill for.

He’s still the one you’ll spend the rest of your days with, no matter what he becomes.

[aixeko]

──────‹𝟹 SINNERS SAVAGERY ༄ Ѽ✧

IF I'M YOUR SALVATION, WELCOME TO HELL.

2024 Halloween Event | Art credit: Efferwescent on Twitter

𖤐 SINNERS SAVAGERY | or ERISETOBER  is an event that is a mix of Kinktober, Whumptober and Flufftober in a nutshell SMUT, ANGST & FLUFF with Halloween aspects. All prompts are made by me but some of the ones that inspired me are whumptober ofc, and this list. 

𖤐 ONLY HONKAI STAR RAIL AND GENSHIN WOMEN For this year

𖤐 This will be my first time doing the October prompts stuff + I have another event going on so bare with me haha.

𖤐 !! WEEK 1 starts 6 to 13 !! !! WEEK 2 starts 13 to 19 !! !! WEEK 3 starts 20 to 26 !! !! WEEK 4 starts 27 to 31 !!

WEEK 1 | MONSTER AU | | ONESHOT

| Film | TILL DEATH DO US PART | Starring | Kafka as alien symbiote “Venom” x Host!Reader  | Synopsis | A livelihood ripped away by the greed of humankind and faced with impending doom, an alien symbiote by the name of "Kafka" entered your life and made you her host. Originally, the monstrous being harbored one goal: to destroy everything planet Earth had to offer, but plans changed upon meeting you and thus, with her power, you both do whatever it takes to save the planet. Loathing was all that was bestowed toward the extraterrestrial parasitic, but as time passes, a long-lost feeling resurfaces, one that hasn't manifested since your heartbreak; of course, you would rather be brutally killed than confess your endearment. Unbeknownst to you, the woman has suspected you of such intimacy and, with her incredible adaptability to the complex human emotion, has a ploy to make you profess those three special words.

| Film | YOUR LORDSHIP | Starring | Yelan as Leviathan x Mortal!Reader | Synopsis |  When the tempestuous waves crash against the shore and the sky turns a foreboding grey, human shells cower in fear as the mighty lord of the seas, Leviathan, awakens from the darkest pit of the deep, seeking for a human companion to aid her lonely voyage.

WEEK 2 | MYTHOLOGICAL AU | | ONESHOT

| Film | BEYOND THE IMAGINABLE | Starring | Clorinde as Medusa x Blind!Reader | Synopsis | Despised and misunderstood by the world, she was a victim of a scandalous man's wrongdoing, unfairly punished by heaven despite her innocence. During one fortunate day, the woman whose heart had turned to stone melt under the accursed spell of love, wholly captivated by a blind mortal who fell in love with her for who she truly was; even without sight, the virtuous human saw the very essence of her, the beauty within her soul.

| Film | OFFERING OF PURITY | Starring | Raiden Ei as Hades x Mortal!Reader | Synopsis | The townsfolk tell tales of a legend that speaks of how, once in a century, the moon would adorn itself in a deep crimson hue and illuminate its shade onto the world. Under its wrathful light, the god of hell emerges to wreak havoc, and the only way to banish such evil is to offer a youthful virgin mortal; only then will humankind live in another century of prosperity and peace.

WEEK 3 | ANIMATRONICS AU | | SMUTSHOT

| Film | FIVE NIGHTS AT STAR RAIL | Starring | Kafka, Himeko, Blackswan, and Acheron as the FNAF Classic Animatronics x Night-guard!Reader | Synopsis | A newspaper arrives at your doorstep, featuring a job opening for a night guard position at the famous Star Rail Pizzeria. Struggling financially, you quickly seize the golden opportunity. The job's only requirement is 5 nights of work, and if you succeed, you'll be hired as an official employee; what could possibly go wrong?

WEEK 4 | SLASHER/SERIAL KILLER AU

| Film | MINDFUCK | Starring | Slasher!Arlecchino x Investigative-Psychologist!Reader | Synopsis | Demons linger where shadows play; in silence, hearts betray, whispers echo, and desires catch fire in the haunting depths of the night. With every kiss, a scythe may cut, in which terror envelops one's gut; together they dance on the edge of fate, finding beauty in a love that is too late. So let the night weave its spell, for in the dark they know so well, and though demons are whispering fright, in their twilight, the lights are ignited.

[wayward-dreamer]

Old Flame

Part 2 to New Blood

Square/s filled: "is that right?" @anyfandomkinkbingo (prompt in bold)|

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Supe!Reader

Word count: 5,229

Summary: Y/N never expected that a knock at her door late at night would result in a reunion with Soldier Boy, someone she long thought to be dead. The meeting gets off to a rocky start, but when certain truths come to light, some unexpected feelings come along with them.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut: dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), I think that's it lol

A/N: I'm so excited to finally bring this to you guys! I just realised I posted the first part a year ago, so it's about time lol... beta'd my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean

Get the job done.

In all his tenure as Soldier Boy, that’s what he had learnt and kept faith in. He had tried to instill that in his team continuously for so long, but along the way he lost his grip on them, enough that they had taken action against him and given him up to the Russians.

The only credit he could give them was that he never saw it coming. Noir was always crafty that way, which was why he had no doubt Stan Edgar had put him up to it.

The last few days had been a complete whirlwind.

He had been released from a chamber in Russia, confronted by the modern world, burned Countess and the Twins to a crisp, all while running with two guys propositioning him to kill the “new” him, Homelander. Who he found out was his son, right before he caved Mindstorm’s face in with his shield. They were still on the search for Noir, but they were close. He had conflicting feelings about Homelander given the revelations, but if he was prepared to do what needs to be done.

He sipped his whiskey, reclined in the wrinkled leather armchair of The Legend’s office in his home upstate. He continued this nightly routine, contemplating the old days compared to this new world he had found himself in. He recalled the golden years, the nights of endless parties, alcohol, drugs, beautiful women, being in the pocket of so many of Hollywood’s elite and notable political figures. He remembered the Vought events, Herogasm in its prime and not the pathetic mess he had witnessed days ago. He thought back to those last few weeks before they left for Nicaragua, that shareholders party that ended up being his last. The night he met Y/N. Ember.

“Everyone knows Noir’s the only valuable player for Vought. The rest of you… you’re gonna end up C-listers, with crummy deals at amusement parks and running Herogasm into the fucking ground.”

He scoffed as he sipped the amber liquid. She had been right, of course. That was exactly what happened, and she had the foresight about Payback’s fate before any of them did. She may have tried to push his buttons, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the result of it. The sex was pretty fucking great; no matter how much he hated her attitude, he had to admit that fact.

“And as for you…You know they’re all just humoring you, right? Countess, the twins. I mean fuck, even Edgar just gives you shit to do so he doesn’t actually have to deal with you. He’s probably got a replacement lined up for you already.”

Just as the memories of her body against his plagued him, her words echoed in his head once more. Words that had broken his last resolve, that had him pushing her against the wall, that had fuelled their rageful lust for each other. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, replaying them in his mind. Yet again, she had prophesied something that he wouldn’t know the truth about until now.

So how the fuck did she know? She may not have been part of the team back then, but she sure as fuck knew something. Did she have something to do with the plot to get rid of him, too? Did she and Noir make the plan together?

She had voiced her desire to join Payback, going as far as telling him she’d talk to Stan after they had fucked and broken several pieces of furniture in his penthouse apartment.

He needed to know where she was so he could pay her a little visit like he had with the rest of his team.

-x-

Y/N settled in for the evening, laid back against the couch with a glass of whiskey on the coffee table and a joint resting in the ashtray next to it. The light of the television flashed against her face as some shitty daytime show was almost finished, ready to give way to the 6pm news. She had briefly seen something about an explosion in Midtown Manhattan a few days ago, followed by another in Montpelier, Vermont, but she didn’t pay much attention to it.

Sliding down against the cushions as the headlines started, she reached for the joint and brought it to her lips, clicking her fingers and lighting the end of it from the small flame. She inhaled, blowing out a large puff of smoke as she drew her knees up. With one hand, she reached for her foot and rubbed her thumb along her toes, firmly. She grimaced at the dull ache that had developed over the years, before stretching her leg out and hearing her bones click loudly. One of the many things Vought took from her; her physicality. She may not have aged a day thanks to the Compound V, but that didn’t mean the years of service to that fucked up place hadn’t taken a toll on her.

Taking another pull from the joint, Y/N glanced at the TV as a new headline came up. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as old images of Soldier Boy flashed across the screen, with the words SOLDIER BOY ALIVE? appeared over them. She jolted up from the couch, reaching for the remote and pressing hard on the volume button, making it louder than it had been. An instagram video with the supe she recognized as Starlight came after the pictures, her words ringing in Y/N’s ears.

“It’s been five days, and still nothing but lies from Vought. Soldier Boy is still out there, and Maeve is still missing, and you know what? More people are just going to die before they admit to what’s going on.”

Her eyes widened as the report continued, piecing the last few days and events together.

“As you heard Starlight there, it’s been five days since the events in Montpelier, Vermont where seven supes were killed, and several more injured. This comes a few days after the explosion in Midtown, with the prime suspect being Soldier Boy, Vought’s most respected supe. Long thought dead for the last 3 decades, which now leads us to believe: what has else Vought been hiding? Stay tuned-”

Y/N shut the TV off, the house eerily silent. She breathed heavily as she tried to understand what was happening. Was he really alive? After all this time? Had he really killed all those people? In an explosion no less. She knew his violent nature but was he really capable of something like this? Midtown was close to The Legend’s penthouse. Had Ben gone after him too?

While the reality of lives lost made her blood boil, the only thing that made her happy was the thought that Vought was probably running around with their heads cut off trying to fix this mess. She’d love to be in that building again and witness it, but she had never been so glad to be out of that life.

She knew that if there were casualties in Vermont, then it was definitely at Herogasm. The TNT twins were no doubt a part of those numbers, which meant Ben was going after all of the team. She had lost contact with Countess decades ago, which was she relieved about considering everything she and the rest of the team had put her through. Y/N had left Payback almost thirty years ago; crime fighting nearly twenty years ago, and she had never looked back. She had refused appearances at Godolkin and any Vought events over the years, and when they finally stopped reaching out she felt free of their hold on her.

There was no word on Countess, the twins were most likely dead; The Legend too, probably. That meant Noir and Mindstorm were next, and then Ben would no doubt be coming for her. If he was alive, then he had clearly learnt of her appointment to Payback, something they had argued over that fateful night, even if it did result in really great sex.

She stood up from the couch and rushed into her bedroom, knowing there was only one thing she could do at that moment. She needed to leave before he found her.

She pulled out her small suitcase, dumped it on the bed and began filling it with whatever she needed for a few days at least. That news report had put the fear of every God into her and she knew that she needed to pack quickly. She had never met Starlight, but after hearing who was responsible… she knew something was up even if she didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be alive. Not after all this time.

She couldn’t take any chances of him finding her and killing her too. Especially after that night, in his penthouse at the old Vought American building, when she said all those horrible things to him. Things that she had regretted the moment she found out he was gone in that nuclear blast. Was that how he was alive now and had managed to wipe out nearly everyone at Herogasm?

She pondered everything in her mind, shaking her head as the thoughts continued in a reel, continuing to put her things together as she moved on auto-pilot. She zipped up the bag, grabbed her passport from one of the drawers in her dresser and shoved it into her handbag. The Legend lived close by, and she just hoped and prayed that he wasn’t dead already. She needed his help to make her disappear for a while, because he was the only one she still trusted. She pushed the clothes in her closet to either side of the rack, reaching forward to the safe in the wall. Turning the dial a few times, it clicked open from the right combination and allowed her to take out a few bundles of cash that she had.

Just as she decided to change into jeans and t-shirt from her nightie and robe, a sudden knock on the door broke through the silence, stunting her in place. She felt a shiver run down her back as the ominous quiet stretched on. Slowly, she wrapped her robe around her body and tied it, walking out of her room. She stared at the front door, wondering if she just imagined it. Another knock sounded on the solid wood, and she flinched, gasping softly. Shaking her head, she rolled her shoulders as she straightened up, psyching herself up as she took leisured steps towards the entrance. She lightly wiggled her fingers to make small embers light up the tips, just as she reached for the doorknob. She twisted it slowly, opening the door wide to see no one there on her porch.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Just as her hand reached for the porch light switch next to the frame, her eyes widened at the familiar face they stepped in front of her, paralyzing her in her place. It was the face of a ghost, or at least, he should’ve been. She staggered back as heavy footfalls moved slowly towards her, his green eyes staring into hers as his face remained stoic, the door hinges creaking as he shut the door behind him.

“Ben,” she gulped, squaring her shoulders as she stood her ground. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. “H-How are you alive?”

His blank facial expression gave way to a slow, sinister smirk. “Well you and the team handing me to the fucking Reds didn’t work out the way you planned.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In one swift motion, Soldier Boy’s hand wrapped around her neck, turning her around and slamming her against the wall. She gasped as his fingers curled over her throat, her body trapped by his shield pressed against her. She tried to push it away with her free hands, but his strength was too much for her.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled, glaring down at her. “I could snap this little neck like a fucking toothpick and you know it, sugar.”

“I-I’m not,” she choked, slapping at his arm.

“You seemed pretty confident about what was gonna happen to all of them,” he recalled, squeezing harder on her neck. “Countess, the twins. So you’re gonna tell me the fucking truth.”

“Or what? You’re really gonna kill me like you did the others?” she gulped around her words.

“Depends on your fucking answer,” he replied.

Her lungs burned as took a harsh breath once he released his hold on her. Her chest heaved as she looked up at him, still trapped between the wall and his shield. Her eyes darkened with rage, her jaw clenching as her nostrils flared the longer they remained in defiant silence. With the little strength she could muster, she raised her arms and pushed against his chest, pushing him back a few paces. His shield slipped out of his grip as he braced himself, his upper lip twitching as he glared at her. Her hands glowed with tiny embers that grew as she stepped towards him.

“Anything I say isn’t gonna matter to you,” she stated, wiggling her fingers around and causing small flames to ignite her palms.

“It all fucking happened, Y/N,” he husked, his stance changing into fight mode as glanced between her face and her hands. “Exactly the way you said. I mean, fuck, they probably replaced me with fucking Homelander - my son - because you told them to!”

“S-Son?” she stuttered, her eyes widening.

He chuckled, smugly. “Come on, doll. It’s hard to believe you had nothing to do with any of this. So what was it, huh? Getting rid of me as some kind of initiation from Noir and the rest of them? You were the final fucking puzzle piece in his plan?”

Y/N shook her head as her fingers tightened into fists, and before she realized her actions, she lifted the right and punched him across the face. The flesh of cheek singed by the embers healed quickly as he looked back at her, grabbing her by her arms and flinging her aside. Her back hit the wall hard, photo frames from the mantel above the fireplace falling off and shattering on the floor. She rolled her shoulders as pushed off the wall, some of the drywall stuck to the back of her silky robe. She tried to strike him again, but as he ducked away, he gripped her waist and turned her around, caging her in by his strong arms. She elbowed him but he didn’t budge; a complete wall of immovable muscle against her. She reached back, her fingers scraping against his cheek, a painful grunt escaping him as she burned his skin long enough for him to let go of her.

“Bitch,” he growled.

Soldier Boy wiped his fingers along his face, the flesh reforming before any blood was drawn. He moved towards her, but she bent down and quickly pulled the blade from his holster, coming back up as she flicked the blade around, slicing his palm through his glove. Once again he was unaffected as gripped her wrist, forcing her backwards and slamming her into the wall. She shrieked as her head hit the hard surface, the sound growing more desperate as she tried to free her hand from his hold. The deja vu of the whole situation wasn’t lost on either of them, as they found themselves in a similar position as that night, but she wasn’t going to let that distract her. As his other hand moved over her throat again, he hit her fist against the wall in an effort to get her to drop the knife. Just as the grip fell from her fingertips and before he could get the upper hand once more, she grabbed him by his kevlar vest, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as she could with her waning strength. A grunt, more of surprise than pain left him as he let go of her, slightly hunched as he collected himself.

“I got the gig 6 weeks after you were gone,” she blurted out. Before this escalated more than it already had, she was going to tell him what really happened.

He glared at her, straightening up slowly. “What?”

“Whenever you were taken… I only got into the team once Vought handled that whole situation,” she added, trying to catch her breath as she moved towards him, slowly. “Which they did a fucking piss poor job of considering I never believed for a second you were dead in a nuclear explosion.”

With a heavy exhale he watched her carefully, looking for any tells that she was lying. She knew exactly what he was trying to do, from the way his shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed. She shook her head, scoffing as mentally told herself to “fuck it” because if she had to die defending herself, then so be it. At least she’d go out with some integrity.

“I had nothing to do with the plot to hand you over, okay? I didn’t know about Noir’s plan!” she exclaimed, stepping closer to him. “Though, if you ask me, those orders probably came from Stan ‘cause he’s the only one smart and sneaky enough to think of it. So no, it wasn’t an initiation. Trust me, that process was far worse.”

A bitter chuckle fell from her lips as she met his eyes again. His eyebrows furrowed, taking her in properly for the first time since he stepped into her house. Apart from the lines around her eyes she looked exactly the same, but something behind her eyes told him she wasn’t the pistol of a woman he had a fiery twenty minutes with all those years ago. He wasn’t about to ask her, because fuck feelings and all that gooey shit, but considering his own experiences in that Russian lab he realized he wasn’t the only tortured one in the room.

Y/N couldn’t decipher his silence. The longer he didn’t say a word, the angrier she got and that was dangerous in that precarious moment. She couldn’t stop herself, however, so before she realized what she was doing, she pushed him. It didn’t matter to her that he was a brick wall, her rage was consuming her and it needed to be unleashed in any way she could find. She hated to be called a liar, and there was no way he was going to get away with it. 

“No matter how much anyone asked for the truth about you it was always the same fucking answer!” she yelled, shoving him again. “The same lies they sold to the public were the same ones they gave us!”

Another push.

“Y/N-”

He stepped back, trying to move out of her way as he reached for her hands, but she was quick as they pressed into his chest again and forced him back, harder this time. 

“So, no! I had no fucking idea that you got taken by the Russians! No fucking idea the team did that to you! I joined Payback to look after my family, not to get rid of you!”

She jostled him again, her palms suddenly engulfed with large embers as she reached up and slapped him across the face. A pained groan escaped him this time, but as he tried to recover she used her other hand across the other side of his face. The skin singed before it healed quickly, but she kept coming at him, kept slapping and shoving, her teeth gritting as she screamed at him. He grunted as he reached for her, his fists closing tight around her wrists as she tried to pull out his grip, scowling at him as her fingers blazed.

“Y/N, stop!” he roared, his gaze far more menacing than hers.

But she didn’t back down. It was too late now.

“I asked about you, you son of a bitch! I tried to find out where you were! You wanted the truth? There it is!”

Her continuous attempt to free herself from his grasp failed, groaning in frustration as she tried to move away, but there was no use.

“Let me go,” she hissed, glaring up at him.

His hands tightened around her wrists causing her to gasp in pain.

“L-Let me fucking go and get the fuck out of my house!”

Soldier Boy remained stoic as she struggled, his heated gaze on her causing her stop. Their eyes locked on each other, and for the first time since he stepped through the door Y/N saw something else behind the intensity of his green orbs. What it was, she wasn’t sure and he probably had no idea what he was feeling either, but before she could understand what was happening, he dropped her wrists and roughly cupped her face as his lips fused with hers. A surprised moan escaped her as he grabbed her so quickly, but her hands instantly moved into his hair, pushing herself up on her tip-toes to get closer to him.

There was nothing gentle about the embrace. Their lips moved harshly against each other’s as her frenzied grasp tugged at his vest. She pulled away, gasping for air as she made quick work of opening the buckles and pushing the kevlar up, allowing him to pull it over his head and throw it aside. He pulled her close as they met in another frantic kiss, stumbling towards the living area as they dodged furniture. He reached for the tie on her silk robe, pulling it free and practically tearing off her before she tossed it somewhere in the room, stripping her of the short silk nightie she had been wearing just as fast. The back of her calf hit the corner of the coffee table, causing her to lose balance as she hit the floor, pulling him down on top of her. Luckily the thick rug softened the fall, but neither of them noticed as he stared down at her, completely naked in front of his still-clothed frame. Her frenetic grasp on his suit as she yanked at the gathered collar and pulled the zip down caused an amused expression to grace his features.

“Someone’s fucking eager,” he chuckled.

She scoffed, hastily sitting up and pushing the sleeves down his biceps before reaching for his pants. “Please, your dick just happens to be the only one in the vicinity.”

“Is that right?” he asked, briefly halting her urgency as he held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “‘Cause if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you got a thing for me, doll.”

“You kissed me first,” she retorted, one eyebrow cocked as she looked up at him, her fingers deftly unzipping his pants. “What’s that say about you?”

“That I’m the one in charge,” he husked, taking her hands in his and pinning her down on the rug once more.

“Then shut up and fuck me,” she smirked.

He grinned as his face hovered above hers, breath mingling as their lips were inches apart. Without wasting any more time, he tugged the waistband of his pants down and took hold of his cock, hard and pulsing in his hand. He lined himself up to her entrance, and in one swift tilt of his hips, he was sheathed by her walls. Her mouth fell open at the familiar stretch, her eyes squeezing shut as she moaned loudly. She grabbed onto his broad, muscular shoulders, pulling him as close as their bodies could press together. He set a brutal pace to his thrusts, his pelvis smacking against her as she wrapped her legs around him, the heels of her feet resting under the curve of his ass. The threads of the carpet under her scraped her back, but she couldn’t have cared less at that point. Everything about that moment felt the same as all those years ago, and yet, completely different.

His touch was as harsh as before and so was the way he pounded into her. Something lingered under the surface, however, something that was unfamiliar to her and that she had never experienced with any of the men she had slept with. Just as she had with the others, she pushed it aside and tugged the hair at the back of his head, their lips fused together in a rough kiss.

“Fuck,” he husked, his mouth brushing against hers. “So fucking tight for me…”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up and fuck me?” she taunted.

He glared down at her, taking in the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “What? This isn’t enough for you?”

“Looks like you’re fucking out of practice, old man,” she snickered.

The scornful laugh died quickly as he took her words as a challenge, slamming into her even harder. The shrieking moan that ripped from her throat had her regretting her words, her eyes closing as stars appeared behind them. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, the pads of her fingers digging into his skin as her nails left crescent marks behind.

It was his turn to mock her, chuckling as he stared down at her. “That’s what I fucking thought… only way to put bratty sluts like you in their place.”

She cried out, half in rage at what he called her and the other half ashamed that it had an effect on her, her walls clenching around him as she felt the familiar heat in her core. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time, well… since the last time she was with him. She tried not to think about how pathetic that was.

“Shit,” she hissed, pressing her lips together.

“Suddenly speechless,” he smirked.

“Fuck you.”

A boisterous laugh left him as he continued to move within her, his hips unrelenting. Her fingers squeezed down harder on his skin, the embers that appeared under them beginning to burn his flesh. He broke eye contact with her as his head dropped down, his shoulders heaving under her painful touch. He closed his eyes, squeezing them as his hips began to falter, causing her to frown. It was unexpected, and she had no idea what was happening to him, especially as a pool of light glowed on his chest.

“Ben…” she whispered, her hands instantly cupping his face and forcing him to look at her.

Just as the light scorches dissipated on his skin as it healed, so did the strange light that looked as if it would erupt from his chest. She gazed up at him, watching as his eyes finally focused on hers.

“What the fuck was-”

He cut the question off as he kissed her hard, his thrusts picking up pace once more. She moaned into his mouth, the confusion as to what had just happened disappearing as he pushed her towards her release. Her walls tightened around him, the intense sensation in her core too much of her to take.

“Fucking cum, Y/N,” he breathed against her lips, his gaze locked on hers. “Be a good girl and cum for me…”

A loud whimper left her as she threw her head back, her hands moving up the back of his neck and into his hair, gripping the locks between her fingers. Her eyes closed tightly as her vision turned white behind them, just as the coil snapped and she felt her wetness cover his cock. His own release came just a few seconds later, a deep growl escaping him as he dropped his head down, his seed coating her walls.

They breathed heavily as they came down from their euphoric high, but it didn’t last long as Ben pulled out of her, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. Y/N sat up, reaching for her robe and pulling it on, tying it around her. The silence was awkward and she wasn’t sure how to break it as she heard him reaching for her lighter and the joint she hadn’t finished. He lit it again, bringing it to his pouty lips and taking a long pull.

“So… when did you find out about Homelander being your son?” she asked, not knowing if that was the best way to start but it was better than addressing what happened just a couple of minutes ago.

“A few days ago,” he replied, the smoke blowing out between his words. “Long story.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next.

“Ben, what happened-”

“We’re not fucking talking about it, doll,” he snarled, pinning her with an intense glare. “Mention it and I can slit that little throat of yours so fast.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she challenged.

She shifted closer to him, her neck craned back, taunting him. She looked at him with hooded lids, biting her lip to keep her from cackling in his face. She plucked the joint from between his fingers and brought it to her mouth, taking a drag. She dropped her head to meet his gaze, blowing the puff of smoke out directly into his face. She knew she was pushing it, but she also knew he was all talk. When it came to her; if he really wanted to cause her harm he would’ve done it that night.

“Don’t you have another Payback member to kill?” she asked, nonchalant.

His jaw clenched the longer he sat in front of her and saw that she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction he would’ve had if she was scared. He stood up quickly, finding his suit around the room and putting each piece back on. As he picked his shield and walked to the door, she followed behind him, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips as she raised an eyebrow in question.

“Raincheck on that long story?”

“Sure you don’t wanna admit you want me first?” he grinned.

She scoffed. “And inflate that ego of yours even more? No fucking way.”

He growled as he reached up and grabbed the front of her neck, leaning in and kissing her roughly. She snickered slightly as her lips moved against his, pulling away before she could let herself fall further into his strange yet intense hold on her.

Ben pulled away from the kiss, and with a wink and suggestive wiggle of his brow he turned the doorknob, walking out onto the porch and into the night. She closed the door, leaning back against it as she took in the state of her living room. She didn’t get the answers she wanted, hell she barely asked the questions she needed to, but considering she never expected this to happen, for him to actually be alive, she supposed they had time to reveal truths and secrets that had been kept for so long.

Something had changed between them, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but dwell on it. If their next encounter was going to be anything like it was moments ago, then how could she not? He was a brute and she couldn’t stand him, but fuck it, the sex was worth it.

And that alone was the reason she could learn to tolerate him.

[elliyoyo]

The Time You Thought Too Loud (Gale Dekarios/Reader)

This is Part 1 of 5 times Gale got teased + 1 time he got his payback. If you're starting, this is right place :) I'll be posting the descriptions and prompts on My Masterlist so you know what to expect, but this will be posted one chapter at a time.

Desc: You catch Gale conjuring his goddess, and he gives you a quick legend in the arcane. You can't help but fantasize about him after he gives you the most wanton look known to man.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, afab reader, vague f!masturbation, and fantasizing (including p in v, f!receiving oral, and creampies).

Words: 1.5k

After a long day's running around, all you wanted was some rest. You had used what seemed like tons of extra supplies because of your own mistakes, you didn't know if your left pinky finger would ever feel the same, and you were completely over today. Hell, you were over this week already, and it only just started!

Despite all of that, however, you couldn't help but focus on (and grow curious about) a low shimmering noise from across your group's makeshift camp. It could only be described as weave incarnate, and the most magic you could do was a measly fire bolt… How were you supposed to fake not being interested?

When you look in that direction, you see a faint blue light coming from Gale's area, which confirms your sixth sense for the weave and draws you in even more. You push yourself up from your bedroll and take a sip from a nearby bottle of water before heading over to check out the small commotion. A small projection floats above Gale's hand, a portrait of a beautiful, straight-haired woman whose look alone commanded attention and grace.

You stare for a moment more, taking silent steps up behind him to get a closer look, a finer examination of all the details on her delicate face… The earring she had in common with Gale.

"Oh my, you startled me!" Gale finally notices your presence, jumping in place as the projection vanishes. "I, uh… I was miles away," he mumbles, hands coming together behind his back. Even though you had seemingly interrupted him, there was no hint of irritation or anger, only embarrassment.

"Is everything alright?"

"Of course! I was just… practicing an incantation!" He flashes you an effortless, but emotionless grin, clearly trying to get you to go about your evening. That wouldn't work on you, though.

"Hmmm… Gale, I think there's more to it than that. The figure I saw; she means something to you, I'm sure of it. You can be honest; I'd like to say I had a pretty tame reaction to Astarion's vampirism and Shadowheart's Sharran worship." You can't help but physically respond to him as well with a raised eyebrow and a hand flying to your hip.

"She does. She… is Mystra. I cannot quite describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her--- to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence." His eyes have glazed over, staring off in the distance towards nothing as if he was now conjuring her up, detail by detail, in his mind. Of course, Mystra was important to him, but no ordinary devotee would feel so desperately drawn to see their idol. "No sculpture or painting could ever do her justice, only the fabric that she herself is and embodies; The weave. Mystra is all magic, and as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation."

"I didn't realize the depth of your devotion." There is a twinge of jealousy, even though there is no reason for it to be there. You have no relationship with this man besides both being survivors, just as there is no reason for you to feel anything towards this goddess.

"Magic is my life. I've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it. It's like music, poetry, and physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses…" He shows off for a moment, flashing lights and shapes between his hands and in front of your face. Impressive, but he's certainly holding back, not revealing too much of his hand yet.

"Would you like to experience it firsthand?"

"Yes, of course I would!" Personal magic lessons from the magic prodigy? Maybe you were wrong to think there was nothing here. He could have thunderwaved you across camp by now if he had been bothered by your intrusion.

"Then follow my lead." He poises his hands up, doing a quick (easily copied) movement that has you feeling ready and at ease.

"Excellent! Now, repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao."

"Okay, uh… Ah-Thran Mystra… Ryl, Kantrach-Ao!"

"Very good, and I know it's exciting, but no need to shout," he laughs out, doing his best to hold his arms and hands steady. "Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can."

You let your thoughts and consciousness fade from being at camp, next to Gale, with a mindflayer worm in your gods damned head, to your childhood. Early. Before it had the chance to get bad. Picking dandelions with your friends from the spots of land surrounding your family's. Birds chirping, the smell of fresh baked bread wafting out your kitchen window. Not a drop of blood or a tear in sight. And suddenly, as if you'd been doing it your entire life, the state of calm you'd achieved pushed out a burst of Weave. Gale's eyes widened for a moment, but quickly returned to normal before too long.

"You did it! you're channeling the Weave--- how does it feel?"

"It feels effortless… You're a wonderful teacher, Gale."

"I know." His nose crinkles when he laughs this time. It makes you feel something strange and new in your stomach, makes your throat seize and your guard immediately fall. The moment connects you two, it feels intimate in and of itself. The confidence of having just successfully performed magic, magic for gods' sake… and in front of the most awkwardly attractive wizard you could have been stuck with in this whole situation.

You can't help but think of kissing Gale. With passion, cradling his cheek and neck with a hand each. It's a knee jerk, uncontrollable want that invades your mind before you can hide it from Gale. And see it he does, he nearly chokes on his own breath while his cheeks gain a dusting of light pink and sheen.

"I… didn't think… Sorry, I wasn't expecting… that… But it is a pleasant image to be sure!" His eyes are wide open up until he chokes on his own hitched breath, the unexpectedness of such a romantic gesture tugging at his heartstrings. Making him want. He would have jumped at the chance, sure, but not now. Not with the burden it would put upon you. "…And there it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were to obtain." He meets your eyes one last time before he turns around, retreating into his tent. "Good night, I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you."

And with that, you were left alone, to wander off to your own bedroll and ignore the snores and sleep talking of your other companions. You would do anything to be in that tent after the tension you just accidentally caused, but a daydream or fantasy or two wouldn't kill you, eh?

You could only sit still for a few moments once you had gotten beneath your cover again. Your hand felt like it was physically itching, needing to slip under the loose waistband of your resting pants. Plenty of mental groaning later, you had your fingers gently, slowing moving over yourself. You think of the fact that you left each other breathless— you left Gale breathless— and that he hadn't exactly been upset by you thinking of kissing him… He seemed flattered. He looked at you with bashfulness, after being so cautious and slow to reveal himself for the first while.

It turned you on to no end.

Countless images flashed through your brain, all of them uncontrollable and barely coherent, but enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge. Gale mischievously looking up at you from between your legs, your legs well above your head as he splayed your thighs open and fucked you slowly, meaningfully… He dipped a finger down and toyed with your clit, swollen and sensitive from however many rounds he had already egged you on to do. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, his teeth digging into his lip as he tried to hide a miserable, high-pitched whimper of, "Feels so good, you feel so good, 'm gonna cum!"

And then, you came along with him, in your head. A soft moan slipped past your lips that you prayed nobody heard and sweat clung to your body and bedroll. You slipped a few fingers inside yourself while riding the orgasm out and relished in the slickness. You allowed yourself to sickly dreaming that you were full of Gale. The clarity quickly came in tow, causing you to shake your head and grimace at yourself. At the fact that the situation had made it so that basic human kindness and attention would be enough for you to finish to the thought of somebody.

You wipe your fingers off, let your mind wander around the feeling of his skin and hairs of his chest, as if it were under your cheek that night. You slipped off thinking about the kiss he'd leave on your forehead and soft murmurs you'd have in your ear.

Little did you know that a very flustered, erect Gale was now the one with a difficult night mere meters away.

[sgiandubh]

She saw, she was first, she scored, homerun

Heh. But Marple only tells you what is convenient for her, right?

This time, I do not have the clip, like she does, simply because as I said, I could not be arsed to watch it. But a trusted friend did, all five hours of it (thank you, dear 😘😘😘😘) and sent me very decent screencaps of S + June Brunette at that tennis event. She sent them a couple of hours ago, while I was busy having a life and lunch, you know (I can prove it anytime, but will always protect my Circle of Trust). Sorry for the delay.

As you know, this blog does not believe that hiding information is the best thing to do. I never did.

Following are the screencaps I have received, in order, and with very precise comments. If anything is wrong, let it be my and her sin. But it is not and you will immediately see why.

Context: S and June Brunette's juiciest appearance in that very exposed spot of the VIP area coincided with Mansour Bahrami's match. S came first, at around 03: 04:49.

Two other people who were seated on those seats before his arrival get up and leave (perhaps prompted? perhaps uninterested in Bahrami? we can only speculate) - all this perhaps about 20 to 30 seconds before S arrives, alone:

He takes a seat and quickly arranges his jacket on his knees, perhaps sends an SMS (I am not Mrs. Graham and, unlike many other people across the street, never pretended to have infrared surveillance material):

Meanwhile, she pops in, at around 03:05:10. Unmistakably Panikian - the yellow outfit was a dead giveaway and he practically pointed when, where and for what to look, in his post: 'and of course, the legend, @mansourbahramiofficial'.

Heh: he was far from surprised and she did not chitchat at all ('is this seat taken?' etc). She just sat down: it was a very natural thing to do:

Then, he takes her in a bear hug. Kinda, sorta. Making sure they are well exposed, unlike you know, that other time:

I am told it was a matter of seconds before he wrapped his arm around her neck. Well, that is the rebuke I have been waiting for about three weeks, right?

At about 04:03:41 and until 04:10:03, she goes out, for some reason (🚹? 💄? 📳? your guess is as good as mine):

My candid question is.. who is Light Green Arrow Woman? This is the first time I see her clearly in those screenshots I (one more time, for the people in the back) have been sent by a trusted friend. Could she be a chaperone of sorts? I am told that on the video edit Marple made a modo suo, she seems to be interacting with Mrs. Panikian, but I would have to see that:

A selfie is taken, to properly document the bullshit (after she helped herself with some more champagne):

Whatever Marple calls 'quite the hug' is a kiss on the cheek, and you can see it quite clearly on her edit, if you really are freaked out by this cheap arrangement:

Prompted by the impromptu (heh) 🔦 + 🍾cocktail, she took it very seriously. A pity she did, without having the slightest idea of the strange place she landed in.

That would be it, to be honest. The pics and stills of these two individuals where he does wear a jacket, that our side published first yesterday are from the first part of the program. I do have a couple of more stills from then, but you have it all on that edit. There is no need to add more pics to it, doesn't bring anything new to the table.

And now, onwards for some more context.

Such as this post on June 13, 2024:

With this very peculiar hidden comment:

From a very peculiar sock account:

Mmmhm. Joined in June 2024, follows nobody and is followed by nobody, and yet felt the need to change the username already once? I mean, what the fuck is this cheap game, right here?

So, for those of you naive (I am elegant) enough to think this Brief Encounter was organic, think twice. Somebody followed whatever the scheming was and that somebody tried to warn the woman. Whether about the Inglorious Pap Walk or about Kissgate (the message was posted around June 15th), is to be debated. But still...

And there is some more, of course : I may not be willing to fuck my (already complicated) eyesight with edits and frames and screenshots, but I am not yet dead and I still have all my brain faculties.

Around the same time Mrs. Panikian began to be followed by S on IG, she also began to be followed by a very decent (give or take a couple of details) physical alternative to My Personal Someone. Who would kill me if he could read this post, btw. That is, if you could kill someone with cold shoulder treatment and an icy gaze (Spanish style all the way):

Quick, let's see what his Personal Life insert tells us:

I mean, D'OH: in case you wondered who the fuck that warning sock account was. NEED I DRAW IT?

Nah, can't be Margot, what were we thinking?

🙄🙄🙄

He followed her not so long ago, but well, he wasn't active since March, LOL:

And look how cute, they are fresh (?) mutuals, as of very recently/now - I might be wrong, but I don't think I am:

Tattoos, fitness venues, filthy porn bots in his 'Tagged' section, rumored to be single since at least last year. Rings a bell? Oh, surely not. Especially when you find out that this guy is also a mildly hot topic on Data Lounge (hope dies last):

Similar profiles (but Eggold is apparently a staunch Catholic - the gay conspirators grin with glee), similar PR problems. Alice to the rescue?

At any rate, she is up for grabs, people: 'looking for a man with a decent sense of humor who doesn't troll women's IG pages' - LOOOOOL. Meet the bloody OL fandom, doll - how's that for trolling? Betcha didn't see what real trolling is, yet.

On a sidenote, in an effort to leave no stones unturned, I have even looked for the edits on her Wikipedia page, until I realized they were unsubstantial and made by a clearly obsessed fan of Miss Universe contests (yeah, such people exist):

Surely enough, that user was blocked for sockpuppetry, which means 'abusing multiple accounts'. But Panikian was not her main obsession and for once, this has nothing to do with the current cheapo story that they try to peddle us. Whoever 'they' are.

That's all for now, ladies. Thanks to all three of you who sent tips and raw info for me to connect. You are wonderful!

It's going to be an interesting summer, for sure.

Ship on, ladies, still the same old, tired, boring BS. But also an interestingly symmetrical rebuke to TS Kissgate - if only...

[moonlit-imagines]

Steal the Show

Loki Laufeyson x reader

warnings:

a/n: ok this is just a lil goofy ok ok im sorry

prompt: anonymous: “For the 8k event (congratulations by the way!), could I request Steal the Show by Lauv with Loki please, romantic relationship”

Loki knew in his heart that you were the one. He was enamored with you, so much so that he’d let you outshine him.

“Is—Is that me?” You whispered over to the illusion of Odin that you stood behind, shocked by the caricature that was your character. Loki—appearing as Odin—nodded with a small chuckle, urging you to hush as the narrator introduced you in all your glory.

“Y/N, selfless and breathtaking—a combination quite rare—arrived to comfort our hero, Loki. They saw the good in him regardless of what the people did.” The narrator read his script word for word and you teared up a bit. “Y/N gave Loki a smile that blew him away, he forgot the barrier between them a moment.”

“I love you, Loki.” The actor playing you spoke to the Loki counterpart.

“We should be together.” Loki’s actor reached for Y/N’s.

As the play went on, you had a stupid smile on your face, you noticed Loki peek back a few times to check.

At the end of the play, Loki’s “death” was shown. You teared up a bit, mostly because you believed him dead for a week and a half and nearly killed him yourself when he revealed he lived.

When you were in private, Loki shifted back to his form and you kissed him passionately, his hands rest on your hips as he rocked you back and forth mindlessly. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I was a bit shocked how much I was showcased in your little play.” You poked his nose.

“If I can’t declare it myself, this will just have to do.” Loki told you.

“Well, how much longer do we have to put on this charade? It’s exhausting.” You admitted to your partner, batting your eyes gently as you looked up at him.

“It will pay off, dear. For now, you’ll just steal the show.” He kissed your forehead.

“It does surprise me you’re not the center of your own play.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @mymelodymia // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

January Week 1

Welcome welcome to the 2024 Grimoire Challenge! Time to really get started everyone! This week will have a lot of stuff all jammed in. So buckle up, grab your grimoire and your supplies, and let’s get to work!

Monday

Name your book - this may seem silly and you definitely don’t need to name your book. Not properly at least. Other than “my grimoire” or “book of shadows” or what have you, which is totally fine. But some of us might feel the need to give it a proper title. “The Basil Grimoire” or “Hazel’s Handwritten Workings” something, anything, that ties the book to you and your craft. Make a title page! If you feel so inclined. If not, that’s fine too.

Definitions (New Page) - ritual and spell. Let’s define a few things. Make a page specifically for definitions, that we’ll add to through the challenge. Let’s start with a couple simple definitions. Define spell. And define ritual. Within the confines of magic, witchcraft and your practice. What is a spell? What is a ritual? What are the differences?

Study (herb) - Pick another herb from that list we made, and dig into the details. Make a page for it on its own, or add its info to another page! Whatever works for your craft. The questions to ask for these study prompts are going to continue to remain the same. Where did it come from, where does it grow, how does it grow, what are its mundane and practical uses. What are the myths and legends and stories surrounding the herb? What are its magical properties and why/ how do you think the other information you've learned about it have influenced its magical associations?

Tuesday

Outline/ index (New Page!) - it helped me a great deal to have an index or outline to my grimoire. I started this as a file on my computer as my grimoire grew and changed I could more easily manage it and rearrange it as I saw fit. Then eventually I could make it into a handwritten copy.

Study (gem) - Like our herb prompt, the gem prompts are going to always use the same outline and questions. Where does the gem come from? What is it used for in a practical and mundane sense? What are its physical properties? What are any myths, legends or stories? Where and how does it form? How does all of that relate to its magical correspondences and what does the herb mean to and for you in your craft?

Spellwriting 101 (New Page!) - make a new page dedicated to spellwriting. This is going to be one of those prompts that is focused on you and your craft. How do you write spells? How do you set them up? What components do you use? What is the format? How is it done? What does it require? From materials to timing and circumstances? Write it all out in your lab notebook. Make it a work in progress. Not all spells are going to work out the same or function the same as you perform them, but having a general layout and method helps to focus your practice.

Wednesday

Common tools - What are the common tools in your craft? That is, you don't need to have a list of every single tool ever used in witchcraft, just the tools that you use in yours. Both regularly and less regularly. What are they used for specifically? What purposes do they serve in the magical and practical sense? Are they ceremonial and symbolic or do they serve an actual physical purpose? (i.e. a wand used to direct energy serves many purposes, while an incense burner could literally just be that, an incense burner)

Year outline/ calendar - not everyone celebrates the same days, holidays or even the same holidays the same way. What are the special occasions and days in your calendar? Mark them and when the proper season/ holiday comes around, we can make pages dedicated to those days. This week this will simply be a list of these days, while later we will actually make pages for them individually. Think of it like the Wheel of the Year, Yule to Midsummer and so on. What days are important to you and your practice? Are they actual holidays? Or simply days of power like the full moon? Or is it simply days that are significant for other reasons, like the anniversary of the day you began practicing witchcraft?

Practical - tool usage - practice using your tools. For example if you use a wand. Practice using it to direct energies or whatever it is you utilize it for.

Thursday

Altar design/ work space (New Page!) - make a page dedicated to your altar and its setup. Why are things where they are? The reasoning can be simple as “that’s where it fits” or you can give it a more meaningful reason. Candles in front of or behind something to represent some purpose. Do you have items that represent the elements? Deities? Different sources of power or directionality? Different colors for different meanings? Why is your altar the way it is?

Practical - cleansing space - practice cleansing your space and tools. This is of course a physical and 'energetic' cleansing. Tidy it up, redecorate your space, clean the tools if they have dust or ash or anything on them. Sometimes it is good to have a clean start.

Friday

Personal practices - this is just a thought provoking prompt tied in with the Journal prompt below. What are some of your personal practices that you've brought into your witchcraft? Anything from little habits from your every day life to things brought from religion or family traditions. No matter how hard we try, we carry within us echoes of things not related to our practices into it. And that is totally okay. Recognizing them, acknowledging them, and truly incorporating them can be a huge step toward understanding ourselves, our beliefs and our practices all around.

Journal/ introspective/ meditations - Think about the above and write any of it down that you come to terms with. Self understanding is important in and outside of witchcraft.

Thank you all and I hope this week's prompts aren't too overwhelming! Stay tuned next week for the next set of prompts!

-Mod Hazel

[rainforestakiie]

Just asking because I love your fanfics of Adamsapple, but I am just wondering if you ever going to write lesbian Adamsapple .

Not that you have too ! I am just wondering :) (if it's not your cup of coffee, that's okay !)

sending adamsapple vibes to you :)

hi!

thank you for the request! i have written lesbian pairs in the past! so no worries!

i hope you don't mind, i used this for my next prompt~ i really hope you like it! i worked so hard on it and i think it's so cute!

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Halloween Party~

@adamsappleweek

The Hyacinth family had just settled into Salem, Massachusetts, a town her mother called "the heart of witchcraft" with a voice thick with reverence. To Adam, nicknamed Adelle, though, it was just a place, its mythical tales and whispered legends as hollow as childhood stories. Magic and witches, as far as she was concerned, were relics of overactive imaginations, nothing more.

Her mother, however, adored these legends—so much so that she even called herself a "white witch," casting mock spells and filling the air with laughter, as though she held some secret knowledge of spells and potions. Adelle sighed, her gaze drifting toward the view from her new bedroom window.

The house itself was ancient, a looming relic from the days of the infamous witch trials. It creaked and groaned in a way that might’ve unsettled anyone else, but her mother loved it, claiming it practically sang to her the moment she laid eyes on it. Outside, the streets of Salem were already cloaked in a Halloween charm, even though October’s end was still a week away. The decorations were woven through the town with a zealous dedication that made Adelle roll her eyes. Every lamp post held tiny jack-o'-lanterns, their carved faces glowing in eerie, flickering orange light, as though they were whispering secrets to each other. Paper bats hung from trees and telephone wires, their wings swaying with every gust of wind, casting fluttering shadows on the cobblestone streets below.

The store windows along the main street were alive with decorations, too—glittering witches’ hats, fake cobwebs with thick, glistening threads, and cauldrons bubbling with misty fog from carefully hidden smoke machines. Orange and yellow banners danced across the length of every building, their fabric rippling like flames in the chill autumn breeze. Salem was fully enchanted by the spirit of Halloween, embracing it like a second heartbeat.

Just as Adelle’s gaze traced the flickering jack-o'-lanterns one last time, her bedroom door swung open, and in drifted her mother with the effortless, theatrical grace she seemed to embody. Her long, wild curls, dyed a deep purple, tumbled down her shoulders like an enchanted cascade, bouncing as she moved.

"Adelle," her mother exclaimed, her voice a mixture of mischief and glee, “Your room is positively bare! How can you live like this? We need to bring some spirit in here!”

Adelle eyed the cardboard box her mother had placed on the floor, frowning as she crossed her arms.

“No thanks,” she replied, her tone flat.

The thought of her room being smothered with the same decorations she saw all over town felt exhausting. But her mother’s eyes sparkled with a glint that suggested she might have other plans.

Adelle's mother clucked her tongue, undeterred by her daughter’s reluctance. She knelt beside the cardboard box, lifting its flaps with the careful enthusiasm of someone unearthing buried treasure. From within, she pulled out strands of twinkling fairy lights shaped like little pumpkins and a velvet black garland that sparkled with flecks of silver.

“Come on, honey, we could at least hang these,” she coaxed, draping the garland over her shoulders like a feather boa. “Imagine—your room could look like a magical hideaway, just for Halloween!”

Adelle slouched further; her arms crossed tight over her chest. "No thanks, Mom."

Her mother’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, the pumpkin lights dangling limply from her hands. She let out a wistful sigh.

“You know,” she began, her voice softer, laced with nostalgia, “When you were little, you loved Halloween. You used to wear the cutest costumes.”

Her eyes sparkled as memories drifted back. “I’ll never forget the year you dressed as a duck—oh, the fluffiest little duckling waddling around the neighbourhood!”

Adelle groaned, but a faint blush crept into her cheeks as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I’m not a little kid anymore,” she muttered, turning back toward the window, resting her chin on her arms as she looked out over the decorated street. The gentle sway of the paper bats, the soft glow of jack-o'-lanterns—it was all perfectly charming, she supposed. Just not for her.

Her mother sighed again, the longing in her expression clear. She sat down on the edge of Adelle’s bed, looking at her daughter with a blend of sadness and affection.

“I know, sweetheart. You’re growing up,” she said quietly. “But sometimes, it’s nice to hold on to a little magic.”

She glanced down at the pumpkin lights, the glow of nostalgia making her look younger. “I guess I just miss the way things used to be.”

Adelle’s resolve wavered as she caught her mother’s wistful gaze reflected in the window. Halloween used to mean something more, didn’t it? She just couldn’t remember what.

Adelle shrugged, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Yeah, well… things change. They kind of had to after Dad.”

Her mother flinched, her face falling for a split second before she composed herself, brushing a lock of purple hair behind her ear.

“Please, Adelle,” she murmured, the strain clear in her voice. “I’m trying. You’ve got to meet me halfway here.”

Adelle didn’t respond, simply resting her chin on her folded arms, her gaze fixed on the Halloween-lit street outside. Her mother sighed deeply, her shoulders rising and falling with the weight of it.

"Listen," she said after a long pause, "there’s a Halloween party tonight—just a small one, at the town hall. You should go. It’s a good chance to meet people your age, maybe make some friends."

Adelle’s eyebrows knitted together as she scoffed. “It’s not even Halloween yet. Halloween’s next week. Why are they having a party now?”

Her mother offered a gentle smile, an expression that held both amusement and a hint of pleading. “Because, sweetheart, that’s just how Salem is. Halloween starts early here, and everyone loves it. They celebrate for weeks.”

Adelle’s lips twisted into a reluctant frown. She could already feel the layers of arguments building up. “Mom, I really don’t want to go. Parties aren’t my thing, and I’d rather just… stay here.”

Her mother clasped her hands together, giving Adelle the wide-eyed, pleading look that had somehow managed to persuade her in years past. “Adelle, please, just give it a try. You might end up liking it here, but you have to actually get out there and see the town—meet people! I promise, it won’t be so bad if you just let yourself have a little fun.”

Adelle crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her voice hardening. “Fun? Mom, what am I supposed to wear? I don’t have a costume, and I’m not just going to throw on some random outfit.”

With a sly smile, her mother glanced down at the box, nudging it toward Adelle with her foot.

“That’s why we brought these along,” she said, her tone a mix of playfulness and determination. "There’s bound to be something here that you can use."

Adelle groaned deeply, her face scrunching up in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

She glanced into the box, catching sight of mismatched fairy wings, glittering masks, and a feathery witch’s hat that looked suspiciously homemade. The thought of putting any of it on made her cringe, but her mother’s eyes glinted with hope, as though this one small gesture could make all the difference.

With a reluctant sigh, Adelle glanced back at her mother, who was waiting with bated breath, a soft, hopeful smile dancing on her lips. She might just have to meet her halfway after all.

Adelle sighed as she fastened the simple black cloak around her shoulders, letting the dark fabric drape to her knees. The costume was as plain as she could get away with—just a simple black dress, a pointed hat with a slightly bent tip, and a thin cloak that trailed behind her. There was nothing sparkly or dramatic, just plain black and white, understated, and perfectly unremarkable. Her mother clapped her hands, her eyes shining with excitement. “You’re going to have a wonderful time, Adelle,” she insisted with a warm smile, as if sheer optimism could magically conjure up a perfect night. Adelle wasn’t so sure, but she forced a strained smile and waved back awkwardly before stepping out into the crisp evening air.

She walked slowly, her footsteps echoing along the winding walkway as she moved down from her house. When she reached the top of the street, Adelle stopped in her tracks, watching as other people her age, but dressed in elaborate costumes—filtered toward a towering white mansion at the end of the street. She felt a pang of dread as she looked at them, each wearing intricate, dazzling costumes that seemed almost too perfect. They walked in groups, laughing easily, glancing back over their shoulders to share in some private joke. Adelle, alone and feeling like an outsider, hesitated. Part of her debated turning around, marching right back to her house, and shutting the door on all this forced Halloween cheer.

But when she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw her mother standing on the doorstep, watching her with that hopeful, encouraging smile that Adelle couldn’t shake. The moment their eyes met, her mother gave an eager wave, silently urging her to keep going. Adelle rolled her eyes, muttering to herself, but she sighed and trudged forward, dragging her feet as she joined the throng headed for the party.

When she finally reached the house, her mouth dropped open despite herself. It was huge, like something straight out of a fairytale—a sprawling, three-story mansion with tall, arched windows and white columns that rose up like the spines of some ancient, regal creature. The place was breathtaking, painted a pristine white that seemed to glow beneath the moonlight, its walls adorned with garlands of dried corn husks and glimmering strands of fairy lights woven into the banisters. Whoever lived here had gone all out.

The front lawn was a Halloween wonderland, lined with pumpkins of every size and shape, each one carved with expert precision. Some had intricate, swirling designs; others had faces so detailed they almost seemed alive, as if they might start whispering secrets any moment. A graveyard scene sprawled across the lawn, complete with fake tombstones that were chipped and mossy-looking, as though they'd been ripped straight out of a Gothic novel. Gnarled, bare-branched trees wrapped in fake spider webs stood on either side of the path, and tiny plastic spiders hung from invisible threads, swaying gently in the breeze. The smell of autumn leaves and warm cinnamon floated through the air, adding to the eerily enchanting atmosphere. Even the wrought-iron gate looked like something out of an old, haunted manor, its metal twisted into delicate curls and loops, catching the light from nearby lanterns that flickered softly, casting long shadows across the ground.

Adelle stood there, her heart sinking as she looked around, feeling painfully out of place in her modest costume. She was just the quiet, bookish girl—the one who never got invited to anything, who spent her weekends buried in novels or working on her latest project. This wasn’t her world. The dread in her stomach twisted tighter as she watched the other teenager’s stream through the front doors, their laughter echoing off the mansion’s walls. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong here. Her mom may have forced her to come, but… was she even invited? What if she stepped inside only to get strange looks or—worse—be asked to leave?

She swallowed hard, the weight of nerves pressing down on her. Maybe no one would even notice her, she thought with a hollow feeling. But just as she was about to turn and leave, something stopped her, a strange pull toward the house she couldn’t quite explain. Taking a deep breath, she hesitated, looking up at the glowing mansion one last time before slowly making her way to the entrance, each step heavy with uncertainty.

Adelle pushed through the crowded doorway and stepped into a whirlwind of noise, lights, and chaos. The house was packed with people, some crammed into the living room where music blared from giant speakers, shaking the floor with a bass-heavy beat. Others were sprawled across couches or clustered in corners, holding plastic Halloween-themed cups decorated with cartoon ghosts and bats. Some people balanced two or even three cups each, while one guy she passed was laughing wildly, juggling four cups in his hands before losing balance and spilling half of one on the carpet. She felt herself shrink under the flashing lights, her small, simple costume a stark contrast to the bold, glamorous, and often risqué outfits around her.

She moved awkwardly through the throng, feeling as out of place as ever. In one corner, she spotted a group of college-aged guys setting up a beer bong, chanting and clapping as someone took a turn. Another girl in a glittery devil costume and a guy dressed as a pirate shared a sloppy kiss in the middle of the room, oblivious to everyone around them. Adelle clenched her jaw, her face heating up in embarrassment. She had never been to a party like this before.

She was still trying to figure out where she might escape to when a tall guy with tousled hair stumbled into her path, flashing her a lopsided grin.

"Hey," he shouted over the music, his voice barely cutting through the noise.

Adelle tried to respond, mumbling a quiet “hi,” but he leaned in, clearly unable to hear her. Before she could say anything else, he shrugged and pushed one of his cups into her hand with a wink, then disappeared back into the crowd. Adelle looked down at the cup in her hand, the liquid inside a murky mix of brown and orange. She lifted it to her nose, cringing at the strong, sour smell.

"I'm such a weirdo," she muttered to herself before taking a small sip. The bitter taste hit her tongue, making her grimace, and she quickly glanced around before tipping the rest into a fake potted plant when she was sure no one was looking.

She wandered through the party aimlessly, just trying to make it through at least an hour before she could slip out without feeling guilty. Eventually, she found herself in the kitchen, where another small group had gathered around a large, ornate punch bowl. The punch inside was an eerie shade of green, glowing slightly under the dim lights. The whole scene seemed like something out of a cheesy horror movie. She was about to turn and leave when a voice rang out behind her.

"Hey, you!"

Adelle froze, slowly turning to see a girl with platinum blonde hair and a silver tiara fixed on her head. She looked every bit the part of a fairy-tale princess, though her eyes glinted with an edge that told Adelle she was no damsel.

 “Yes, you,” the girl continued, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t recognize you, and I definitely don’t remember inviting you to my party. Are you new or something?”

Adelle’s face burned with mortification as she realized all eyes in the kitchen were now on her. She stammered, unsure of what to say, feeling smaller and more out of place with each second that passed. One of the other girls, dressed in a cat costume with thick, dark hair and a smirk on her face, leaned into her friend’s shoulder, snickering.

“Oh my God. She’s a party crasher. How adorable.”

Adelle tried to find her voice but only managed a soft, “I… I’m really sorry… I just moved here, and my mom, she, um, thought I should come.”

The blonde girl, who Adelle realized must be the host, clicked her tongue and nodded thoughtfully.

“Oh, you must be the Hyacinth girl?” She turned to her friends and waved a dismissive hand. “Chill out, guys. My dad invited her mom to the party or something—guess they work together.”

One of the other girls, with wild red curls and a smug grin, wrinkled her nose.

“Ew, handouts,” she sneered, crossing her arms.

The blonde girl rolled her eyes, seeming almost exasperated. She stepped forward, offering Adelle a small smile that seemed to say she was at least somewhat sympathetic.

“I’m Lilith, by the way,” she said. “You’re cool to hang out if you want. Don’t mind the heckling frogs over there—they’re just drunk.”

She motioned to the two other girls, who both flipped her off in unison, though they seemed amused.

Lilith continued the introductions, gesturing to the others around the room.

 “That’s Eve,” she pointed to the redhead girl, “And Selena. The guys are Marcus, Steve, Luke, and Tony.”

One of the guys, a lanky boy with a wry grin, raised his beer in a lazy salute.

Eve, who was still leaning into Selena’s side, peered at Adelle curiously. “What’s your name then, new girl?”

Adelle managed a half-smile, her cheeks still warm with embarrassment. “Uh… I’m Adam.”

Her name hung in the air for a moment, and the girls blinked in surprise while the boys snickered. One of them, Steve, who was sitting on the kitchen counter with a can of beer, leaned forward with a smirk.

“Isn’t that a guy’s name?”

Adelle’s blush deepened as she shrugged, feeling painfully exposed. “I mean… yeah? I don’t know. It’s just what my parents called me. but I'm called Adelle as a nickname for it.”

How stupid. Why did she give them her real name?

Selena snickered, nudging Eve with her elbow. “Whoa, her parents wanted a boy that much?”

Eve chuckled, while Adelle stared down at her feet, wishing the ground would just open and swallow her whole.

Lilith shot her friends an exasperated look, her brow furrowing. “Guys, stop it. Don’t pick on her. She’s new—give her a chance.”

Before Adelle could thank her, Marcus, a tall guy with a lazy smile, pulled Lilith into his side, planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Aw, you’re too sweet, Lils,” he cooed, half-mocking. Lilith rolled her eyes, but she leaned into him with a small, almost smug smile, clearly enjoying his attention.

Adelle tried to relax, still feeling like a fish out of water. She could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on her, waiting to see if she’d prove to be as awkward as she seemed or if she might surprise them somehow.

Adelle lingered awkwardly on the edges of the group, trying not to look as out of place as she felt. Lilith glanced over at her, sensing her unease, and offered a soft smile.

“So, what brought you to Salem?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious. “Where’d you move from?”

Caught off guard by the friendliness in Lilith’s voice, Adelle relaxed just a little. “Oh, uh… we moved from a small town up north. My mom wanted a change.”

“She loves… all this witch stuff,” she admitted, waving a hand vaguely to indicate the Halloween decor and the general spooky atmosphere that filled the house.

Lilith chuckled. “You’ll fit right in then. Salem’s all about the witchy vibe. People here go all out, especially around Halloween.”

Adelle smiled, feeling herself start to ease up. Lilith seemed nice, a little snarky but welcoming enough. For a moment, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she could find a place here. But then, Eve piped up from behind her, and the conversation took a turn.

“Oh, speaking of witches… Morningstar, anyone?” Eve said, her voice lilting with mischief as she smirked at Lilith.

Adelle noticed the way Lilith’s face lost its colour just slightly, her confident expression faltering.

Selena, standing beside Eve, let out a loud laugh. “Yeah, remember how terrified you used to be, Lil? You actually thought Morningstar was real and was gonna yank you out of bed by your ankles!”

Lilith flushed, trying to keep a straight face but clearly embarrassed.

“Oh, shut up!” she protested, crossing her arms. “You were the one hiding under my bed and grabbing my ankles! You would’ve believed she was real, too!”

The group erupted into laughter, and Adelle found herself smiling, though she was utterly lost. Curiosity got the best of her, and she hesitantly asked, “So… who’s Morningstar?”

The laughter died down, and Lilith let out a resigned sigh. “Oh, she’s just a legend around here. A story to scare the kids, y’know?”

She rolled her eyes, but Adelle could sense a hint of discomfort in her expression.

“She’s more than just a story,” Eve said, grinning mischievously. “She’s the witch of Salem. The most famous one.”

Eve’s eyes gleamed as she poured herself another cup of punch. “Legend says she used to lure children to her house to suck out their souls. And her house? It’s a museum now, right across the street.”

Adelle felt a strange chill creep up her spine as Eve went on. There was something almost too eager in her tone.

Lilith took a step closer, arms folded, as she began to explain. “So, the story goes like this: In 1693, Morningstar was accused of witchcraft and executed for, well… stealing the life force of children to stay young and beautiful. She was said to be the most beautiful girl in Salem. Men would line up to propose, but she refused them all.”

“Which probably didn’t sit well with the men of the time,” Eve chimed in with a smirk. “Women back then didn’t just stay single. If you were pretty, you were expected to marry and, you know, ‘pop out some kids.’”

Selena let out a low, wicked laugh. “Rumour has it she even turned down the mayor’s son. That was the real reason they called her a witch.”

She rolled her eyes as if the notion were ridiculous but still somehow thrilling.

Lilith continued, her tone dropping to an ominous whisper. “And before her execution, she supposedly cursed the town. Said she’d come back if a virgin ever lit the Black Flame Candle on Halloween night. She’d rise from the dead and make Salem crumble. But, honestly…”

She shrugged. “She probably just said that to mess with people.”

The group chuckled, but Adelle stayed silent, a strange knot of unease forming in her stomach. She couldn’t tell if it was the way they were speaking or just her own overactive imagination, but the story left her feeling strangely cold.

Eve, noticing Adelle’s quietness, grinned slyly and slinked over, poking Adelle’s side. “Oh, don’t tell me. You’re scared, aren’t you, new girl?”

She gave a mock shiver, cackling as the others began to snicker.

Adelle shook her head quickly, face heating up. “I’m not scared. It’s just… it’s just a story, right?”

Selena sneered, nudging Eve and mimicking Adelle in a high-pitched, mocking tone. “‘It’s just a story.’”

The group burst into laughter, and Adelle’s cheeks grew warmer as she shifted her gaze to the floor, desperately wishing she hadn’t said anything.

Lilith stepped forward, but her voice had lost the friendliness it had held earlier. Now it was laced with a condescending edge.

 “Of course it’s just a story, Adelle. Morningstar isn’t going to pop out of the shadows and drag you away.” She smirked as the group laughed harder, casting sly, mocking glances at Adelle.

Adelle swallowed, her mind racing. The teasing stung, but she forced herself to keep her chin up, meeting their gaze as evenly as she could manage. “I’m not scared,” she said quietly but firmly.

Eve snickered, raising her eyebrows. “Oh, really? Well, if you’re not scared, then you wouldn’t mind going to the museum, right?”

Her tone was dripping with challenge, and the others leaned in, watching Adelle expectantly.

Adelle hesitated, the knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “I… I mean, I don’t know…”

Selena gave her a mocking pout. “Aww, what’s wrong?”

“Too spooked?” she taunted; her voice sugary-sweet but laced with mockery.

Adelle felt something harden inside her, a flash of defiance flaring up as she straightened her back. She wasn’t going to let them get to her.

“I’m not scared,” she said firmly, her gaze steady. “Fine. Let’s go to the museum.”

The group shared amused looks.

Adelle trailed behind the group, her weary green eyes studying the other teenagers as they walked ahead, whispering and giggling among themselves. A chill ran down her spine, the night air growing colder as they moved further away from the safety of the warm, bustling house. She felt a mix of excitement and dread; she had only just moved to Salem and didn’t know her way around. What if she couldn’t find her way back later?

Eventually, they stopped in front of what must be the oldest building in Salem. The house loomed before them, an ancient structure with weathered black and white siding that seemed to lean slightly, as if it were trying to tell her secrets long forgotten. The windows were dark, with long-dried vines snaking around them, and a crooked black wooden gate marked the entrance to a wildflower garden that thrived chaotically. The flowers were vibrant, bursting with colour against the eerie backdrop of the house, but they only added to the witchy atmosphere that surrounded the place. The garden looked as though it hadn’t seen a gardener in years, but that only added to the allure, the sense of magic and mystery that hung thick in the air.

Adelle stood by the wooden fence, staring at the house with wide eyes, biting her bottom lip anxiously. Her heart began to pound with a thrilling fear she had never experienced before, a mix of excitement and the kind of apprehension that comes from being on the brink of something unknown. The group continued to giggle and push each other playfully, their laughter echoing against the silence of the night. Lilith turned to Adelle, her smile bright and inviting as she patted Adelle’s arm.

“Come on then, let’s go inside!”

Adelle’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? How? It looks closed!”

Steve snickered, leaning casually against the fence. “Trust us when we say a locked door has never stopped us before.”

Adelle swallowed thickly, glancing nervously at the looming structure. “You’ve… done this before?”

Eve flashed her a playful grin, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Of course! Don’t worry, nothing bad will happen.”

“Yeah,” Tony chimed in with a nonchalant shrug, “We’ve been sneaking into Morningstar’s museum for years. It’s no biggie.”

Adelle inhaled deeply, her stomach twisting. Lilith tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips. “Getting cold feet?”

She shook her head vigorously. “Of course not! I’ll be fine!”

Lilith’s smirk widened, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Okay then, come on! Let’s go in!”

When nobody else moved to follow Lilith, Adelle frowned, a sudden uncertainty creeping into her. “Is it just… us?”

Lilith raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Is something wrong with that?”

Adelle flushed, shaking her head quickly. “No, of course not! I mean, that’s fine, I just thought…”

Eve laughed, a light sound that cut through the tension. “Relax! We’ll be coming in afterward!”

Lilith gave Adelle a reassuring pat on the shoulder and easily climbed over the gate, which hung crookedly on its hinges. “It doesn’t open anymore; it’s like, nailed into the ground or something now.”

Adelle hesitated, glancing down at her long, ankle-length dress. She really didn’t want to chance climbing over the fence, but Lilith gave her a determined look. With a sigh, she pushed her thick, red and brown hair back and carefully climbed over, relieved when her skirt didn’t catch.

Lilith smirked as she led Adelle down the white stone path to the old wooden door, which looked decidedly wonky. Leaning against it, Lilith pulled a long pin from her hair, flipping it over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist.

“Just give me a second~” she cooed, pushing the needle into the lock and twisting it.

Adelle shifted nervously, glancing back at the others waiting behind the fence. Eve waved at her smugly while the others snickered, their laughter sharp and teasing.

“Um, are you sure you do this often?” Adelle asked weakly.

Lilith hummed as she continued to work on the door, twisting the knob until it clicked and swung open.

“Yep! All the time!” She grinned wickedly and stepped aside, gesturing for Adelle to go in. “After you~”

Adelle’s gaze flickered between Lilith and the dark doorway, her heart racing. Lilith beamed at her, and with a soft push, encouraged her further. “I’ll be right behind you, and then so will the gang.”

Taking a deep breath, Adelle nodded and shuffled forward, poking her head inside first before slowly stepping in. Her green eyes scanned the interior of the dimly lit building, trying to make sense of the shadows and shapes that surrounded her. Just as she turned to ask Lilith to follow her inside, the door slammed shut with a resounding thud, followed by an uproar of laughter from outside.

Panic surged through Adelle as she rushed back to the door, yanking the handle with desperation, but it wouldn’t budge. More laughter spilled from the other side, where Lilith’s voice rang out, filled with mockery. “We’ll let you out in the morning, Adelle! If Morningstar hasn’t sucked your soul out! She likes to eat the ugly ones!”

The laughter continued, and tears pricked the corners of Adelle’s eyes as she realized the cruel game they were playing. She pressed her forehead against the cool, solid wood, feeling utterly alone and scared. How had she let herself be dragged into this?

Adelle’s heart pounded, thudding loudly in the silence of the darkened room as she twisted and pulled at the old door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Lilith’s mocking laughter and Eve’s high-pitched giggles echoed through the thick wood, muffled but merciless. Adelle bit her lip, fighting against the prickling of tears that threatened to spill.

“You’ll be fine, new girl!” Lilith’s voice called mockingly through the door, laughter trailing behind. “If Morningstar’s real, maybe she’ll finally get a meal out of it! She likes the… ‘weird’ ones!”

More laughter, taunting and vicious, surged from the other side, mingling with the cool October wind. Adelle’s chest tightened as she pressed her forehead to the door, her fingers numb against the worn wood. She could barely make out their voices as they continued joking, their footsteps receding down the path and back toward the gate. They didn’t even look back.

Adelle swallowed hard, forcing down the rising panic. She took a slow, shuddering breath and turned to face the dark, her eyes adjusting slightly as she scanned the room. Dust coated everything—long-forgotten furniture cloaked in faded sheets, an ancient fireplace with scorched, splintered logs still resting inside, and eerie shadows cast by the faint slivers of moonlight filtering through a small, dusty window high above her head.

A low creak sounded from deeper within the house, and she froze, every muscle taut.

It’s probably just the house settling, she tried to convince herself. But the noise felt almost… intentional, like a warning whispered from somewhere unseen.

Taking another deep breath, Adelle reached out to steady herself on a wooden table by the door. The wood was rough under her fingers, brittle and dry, and as she brushed a layer of dust aside, her hand landed on something cold and metallic. She squinted in the faint light to make out a tarnished candelabra, its candles melted and hardened into strange, twisted shapes.

A sudden chill swept through the room, raising goosebumps along her arms as she shivered, her witch’s cloak doing little to shield her from the strange, unsettling cold. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, as though unseen eyes were tracking her every move from the darkened corners.

Forcing herself to step forward, she whispered aloud, more to comfort herself than anything.

“It’s just a house. An old, empty house.” Her voice was a frail whisper, swallowed by the heavy silence.

But as she turned to glance at a shadowed alcove, something caught her eye—a faint glimmer, hovering in the air. She squinted, trying to make sense of it, and realized it was a delicate, translucent thread floating down from the ceiling. She craned her neck to look up, and her breath hitched at the sight.

Carved into the darkened wood above her, a faint symbol glowed, flickering like a dying ember. It was an intricate design, like a knot twisted upon itself—a strange, ancient marking she didn’t recognize. Beneath it, words appeared to be carved into the wood, barely legible under the faint glow:

“Let those who trespass be warned: the soul is the price of arrogance.”

A chill prickled along her spine as her eyes traced the faint lines of the inscription. Her fingers itched to touch it, but she resisted, feeling an almost tangible sense of wrongness radiating from it.

A noise—a soft whisper, so quiet it was barely audible—drifted from somewhere deeper within the house. It sounded almost like a voice, a murmur in a language she couldn’t understand. Her heart pounded as she strained to listen, her pulse hammering louder with each passing second.

“Lilith?” she called out, even though she knew it was pointless. Her voice was barely more than a breath, swallowed by the shadows.

The whispering grew louder, accompanied by the faintest hint of a melody, ghostly and eerie, echoing through the empty halls. Adelle’s hands trembled as she took a step back, her eyes darting from one shadow to the next, convinced something was lurking just out of sight, watching her with cold, ancient eyes.

Swallowing her fear, she forced herself to think. There had to be a way out, some other door, a window she could pry open. She just had to find it and get out—away from this place that seemed to breathe around her, whispering secrets she didn’t want to hear.

She took another hesitant step, her foot landing on a loose floorboard that creaked sharply beneath her weight. The sound echoed, and with it, the whispering stopped. Silence fell, heavy and oppressive, and in that stillness, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand

Adelle inhaled deeply, the chill of the air prickling her skin as her heart raced in her chest. Shadows enveloped her, wrapping around her like a heavy cloak, while her green eyes darted through the darkness of the room, seeking any sign of life or light. Right, she thought, steadying her breath. They said it was a museum. That means there has to be a switch somewhere, a flicker of magic to bring the place to life.

Shuffling her feet cautiously, Adelle edged toward the left, her fingers stretching out to brush against the cool, rough surface of the wall. She felt her way along, her heart thrumming in time with the whisper of her fingertips until, finally, she stumbled upon what could only be a switch. With a flick, her pulse quickened; a sigh of relief escaped her lips as dim, flickering lightbulbs sputtered to life, illuminating a room straight out of a fairytale—or perhaps a nightmare. Dust danced in the air, caught in the soft glow, and cobwebs draped like delicate lace from the ceiling, giving the place a hauntingly beautiful charm.

Pulling her pointed witch’s hat from her head, Adelle raked her fingers through her unruly hair, exhaling in frustration.

“Fucking bitches,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the door, which now felt like a barrier between her and the outside world. Striding towards it, she pounded her hands against the wooden surface, her heart sinking as the lock held fast.

Silence draped over her, thick and suffocating. Lilith and her entourage had vanished into the night, leaving Adelle to stew in the shadows of this forgotten museum.

“Of course they’d leave,” she muttered bitterly. “They locked me inside for a stupid prank.” The room felt emptier now, as if the walls were closing in around her, mocking her isolation.

“Childish,” she rolled her eyes, exasperation bubbling up within her. Crossing her arms tightly across her chest, she twirled around, surveying her surroundings with a mix of irritation and wonder. “And my mom wonders why I don’t have any friends? Because they’re all stuck-up bitches!”

But as the echoes of her words faded into the stillness, Adelle found herself drawn to the peculiar beauty of the museum. Dusty artifacts lined the walls, each one holding stories of their own, waiting to be discovered. A strange warmth flickered in her chest, nudging her to explore further despite her indignation.

Curiosity gnawed at Adelle, compelling her to wander deeper into the shadows of the museum. The air was thick with dust and an intoxicating blend of mystery and magic, each corner whispering secrets of the past. The story of Morningstar, the most infamous witch of Salem, beckoned to her—after all, her home had become a museum. If this place truly belonged to her, what wonders might it hold?

As Adelle stepped carefully across the creaky wooden floorboards, the first thing that caught her eye was a massive cauldron sitting ominously in the centre of the room. Its surface was slick with dust and draped in cobwebs, giving it an air of sinister allure. Intrigued, she approached, her heart racing at the thought of what it might have been used for. In front of the cauldron, enclosed in a glass case, was a leather-bound book that seemed to thrum with energy.

Her eyebrows shot up as she read the label on the glass.

 “The Spell Book of Morningstar?” she whispered, her voice barely breaking the silence. “Given to her by the devil himself?”

The implications sent a shiver down her spine, but she pressed on, her fascination overcoming her apprehension. The book, bound in what appeared to be human skin, claimed to contain the recipes for her most powerful spells and incantations.

Adelle grimaced, stepping back as a wave of unease washed over her.

“Oh, so creepy,” she muttered, shaking her head as if to dispel the dark images that danced in her mind. With a huff of indignation, she turned to explore further, her heart still racing but her curiosity ignited.

As she wandered through the museum, her gaze fell upon an old candlestick that bore a single black and white candle, nestled within a host of dust and cobwebs. Drawn to it, she approached slowly, her green eyes scanning the label beneath.

“Black Flame Candle,” she read aloud, the words hanging ominously in the air. “Made from the fat of a hangman. Legend says that when lit on a full moon, it will raise the spirits of the dead.”

A snort escaped her lips, a mix of disbelief and amusement bubbling up within her.

“It all sounds so ridiculous and over-the-top!” she exclaimed, the laughter echoing off the walls. How could anyone actually believe in this? None of this could seriously be real, could it?

Adelle's green eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and curiosity as she surveyed the dimly lit museum once more. A stand of cigarette lighters caught her attention, the vibrant colours glinting in the flickering light. A playful idea sparked in her mind, and she grinned.

“Let’s light this sucker and meet this gorgeous witch!” she chuckled to herself, moving toward the counter.

With a determined flick of her wrist, she snagged a random lighter, admiring the way it gleamed in her hand. She twirled around, her long black and white skirt swirling dramatically, the fabric flowing like a spellbound mist. Her heart raced with a heady cocktail of fear and excitement. None of this could possibly be real; they wouldn’t keep the genuine candle in a place like this, right?

Adelle approached the black flame candle, her pulse quickening as she flipped the lighter open. The small flame flickered to life, a tiny sun of orange illuminating her face. She held it up to the candle, the moment stretching as she pressed the flame to the bent wick.

As if in response to her daring, a black flame sprang forth, and she gasped, eyes wide with astonishment.

“Whoa,” she whispered, marvelling at the eerie beauty of it.

But just as quickly as the flame ignited, the atmosphere shifted. A ghostly wail of wind swept through the room, sending chills down her spine. The temperature plummeted, and Adelle felt the air grow dense around her.

Then, without warning, a reddish glow began to seep from beneath the floorboards. A startled squeal escaped her lips as the boards started to bounce and tremble as if alive. The cupboards and drawers sprang open and shut, creating a chaotic symphony of creaking wood and clattering objects. Her heart raced as she stumbled back, nearly tripping over the cauldron, her breath hitching in her throat as a flame suddenly flickered to life beneath it, casting a warm green glow throughout the room.

“What’s going on?” Adelle gasped, panic washing over her. In a flurry of motion, she ripped herself away from the cauldron, only to stumble back into a wooden beam, disoriented. Every lightbulb in the museum exploded in a shower of glass and sparks, bursting like colorful balloons. Candles flickered to life all around her, bathing the space in a warm, golden light, their flames dancing wildly.

Outside, the sky roared with thunder, and the house shook, tremors vibrating through the very ground beneath her. Adelle sunk to her knees, instinctively crawling under a nearby table, her heart racing as she tried to make sense of the chaotic scene unfolding before her.

Then, with a rush of energy, the door to the museum burst open, shimmering with magic and spilling golden sparks into the room. A hauntingly beautiful, bell-like cackle echoed through the air as a silhouette of a woman emerged, casting a spell of enchantment over the space.

“I’m home!” she sang, her voice rich and melodic, as she stepped into the museum, her boots tapping lightly against the wooden floor. “And my curse worked perfectly!”

Adelle peeked out from beneath the tablecloth, her breath catching as she watched the woman stretch her arms overhead, reaching for something hidden among the beams. Another enchanting laugh spilled from her lips, and she bounced on her feet.

“My lucky rat tail! Exactly where I left it!” she declared, holding up the odd trinket before tossing it aside as if it were a mere afterthought.

As the woman began to hum to herself, Adelle watched in awe, captivated by her presence. She scanned the room, her eyes wide with surprise. “What did those fools do to my home? Dazzle, frazzle? Where are my babes?”

Adelle practically jumped as two fuzzy figures suddenly rubbed against her sides, emerging from the shadows.

“Ah!” the woman exclaimed, turning in Adelle's direction but missing her entirely.

“There you both are, my babies! Did you miss me?” she cooed, kneeling to greet two vibrantly coloured cats—one bright red, the other a curious pink. Their odd colours seemed to shimmer with the remnants of magic, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the museum.

The witch stood up gracefully, her two cat familiars, Dazzle and Razzle, purring contentedly at her feet. She regarded the candle with a curious hum, tapping her chin as her eyes sparkled mischievously.

“But who lit the black flame candle? Hmmm?”

The cats mewed in response, and the witch let out a soft, melodic laugh that sent shivers down Adelle’s spine. With a twirl, her layered skirt of white and red swirled around her legs like a blooming flower, enchanting in its movement.

“Well, no matter!” she declared, her voice lilting with enthusiasm. “We have much to do!”

Adelle watched as the witch glided out of sight, her footsteps echoing softly before fading into the creaking of the floorboards above. Curiosity gnawed at Adelle, urging her to inch forward. She pressed her hands against the worn wooden floor, poking her head out to scan the museum.

Where had the witch gone? She listened intently, faint sounds drifting down from upstairs, and it dawned on her that Morningstar had truly vanished into the upper levels of the house. The still-open door beckoned her like a siren's call. This was her chance—to escape, to run home, and to pretend none of this had ever happened.

Taking a deep breath, Adelle blinked in resolve. She steeled herself, gathering her courage to dart toward the door. But just as she took her first step, it swung shut with a resounding thud, causing Adelle to yelp. She spun around, her large green eyes wide with shock, and froze upon discovering the witch lounging lazily atop the very table she had been hiding beneath.

Morningstar was a striking figure. With white skin accentuated by rosy cheeks and cascading blonde hair threaded with soft coral streaks, she looked every bit the enchanting witch. Her eyes, an unusual light yellow with vibrant red pupils, sparkled with mischief. Shorter than Adelle, her figure was graced by a beautifully fitted dress, layered in shades of white, purple, and red, complete with a corset that hugged her curves. A fluttery cloak of white and purple draped elegantly around her neck, while a top hat adorned her head—curiously, a snake coiled around it, as if guarding its secrets.

Adelle’s breath caught in her throat as the witch’s playful smile widened, her eyes twinkling with intrigue.

“And who might you be, hmm?”

Adelle opened and shut her mouth like a fish out of water.

“I-I’m… Adelle,” she stammered, taking a stumbling step back as Morningstar leapt to her feet and began to circle her like a curious cat.

The witches familiars puffing out their fluffy chests as they lounged comfortably.

Adelle gasped, instinctively pulling her arms close to her chest when Morningstar playfully poked her side, a giggle spilling from her lips as she glided her hand along Adelle’s back and down her arms, sending a warm tingle of unexpected thrill racing through Adelle.

The witch leaned in close, her breath warm against Adelle’s skin, their noses nearly touching. “Well, Adelle, I suppose I ought to thank you.”

Adelle turned crimson, her heart pounding in her chest as she met Morningstar’s gaze. “Th-thank me? For what?”

The witch’s eyes gleamed as she leaned in even closer, almost conspiratorially. “You lit the candle, did you not?”

Adelle nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “I-I did…”

Morningstar’s hands curled around Adelle’s arm, holding it close as if to draw her nearer.

“Then I should thank you for raising me from the dead,” she cooed sweetly, her voice dripping with charm. “A virgin lit the candle on a full moon, Adelle.”

“W-what? No! I-I—this isn’t real!” Adelle sputtered, her mind racing.

The witch giggled, following Adelle as she instinctively tried to back away. “But you did, Adelle. You lit my black flame candle on a full moon. You brought me back from the dead, just as my curse foretold.”

Adelle held her hands up defensively, trying to create distance, but Morningstar’s radiant smile only widened. “Look, Miss Morningstar—”

“Lux,” the witch interjected playfully. “My name is Lux Morningstar.”

Adelle blinked, caught off guard. “Lux?”

“Indeed!” Lux spun around in a dramatic flourish, her skirt swirling. “And you, sweetheart Adelle, are now part of my enchanting tale.”

Her tone was teasing yet playful, and despite the circumstances, Adelle felt an inexplicable connection forming—a magnetic pull toward the vibrant witch standing before her, shimmering with mystery and charm.

“What do you mean?” Adelle asked, her curiosity igniting like a flame.

Adelle felt her heart racing as Lux moved closer; her luminous presence almost overwhelming.

“You really must let me thank you for lighting the candle,” Lux insisted, her bright eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement.

“No, no, you don’t understand!” Adelle shot back, shaking her hands defensively. “I didn’t really do much—well, I didn’t do anything at all!”

But no matter how much she tried to create distance, Lux was like a shadow, her gaze unwavering, her grin enchanting.

“Oh, but you did,” Lux cooed, tilting her head in that adorable way that made Adelle’s cheeks flush. “What year is it, Adelle?”

Adelle paused, caught off guard by the question. “Um… 2024?”

Lux’s laughter rang out like wind chimes dancing in the breeze. “Exactly! Nobody has lit my candle in over three hundred years, Adelle! I really must thank you!”

Adelle blushed deeper, stammering, “N-no, you really don’t need to! I mean—”

She looked down, feeling small under the witch’s piercing gaze. “I wouldn’t have even been in here if it wasn’t for those… um…”

“What happened?” Lux leaned in; her curiosity piqued. “Did somebody hurt you?”

Adelle shook her head vigorously. “No, no! I wasn’t hurt. It was just a nasty prank, and…”

She sighed, the weight of the evening washing over her. “It was just a bunch of other people at a party. They wanted me to sneak into the museum with them. If I wasn’t such a coward, I might have gone with them. They locked me in here and said they would come back to let me out in the morning.”

A glint of mischief danced in Lux’s eyes as she stepped even closer, her voice lilting with amusement. “You know, I am a very powerful witch.”

Adelle gasped, her eyebrows shooting up. “That’s true? Oh, haha, of course it is! You’re right here!”

Lux’s grin widened, revealing sharp teeth that made Adelle’s breath hitch. “Adelle, I’m a very powerful witch, and I owe you a favour.”

Adelle blinked slowly, confusion clouding her mind. “I don’t… get it?”

Lux leaned in closer, squeezing Adelle’s hands gently, her breath warm and sweet against Adelle’s lips. “I’m saying, why don’t we go ‘prank’ them back?”

Adelle’s breath caught in her throat, her mind racing. “Y-you’ll really do that? For me?”

“Of course I will,” Lux replied, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down Adelle’s spine.

Adelle squeezed Lux’s hands in return, her excitement bubbling over into a radiant smile that made Lux’s cheeks flush pink. “Yes! Let’s do that! Fuck yeah!”

Adelle practically jumped to her feet, her joy infectious. Lux stood there, momentarily stunned by Adelle’s enthusiasm, her heart fluttering at the sight of the other girl’s exuberance.

“Yes, let us do that,” Lux agreed, her voice now brimming with a conspiratorial thrill. The air around them buzzed with possibility, magic swirling in the atmosphere like fireflies igniting the night.

“Okay! What’s the plan?” Adelle asked, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.

Lux grinned, her eyes glinting with mischief. “First, we need to gather supplies.”

Adelle’s pulse raced with anticipation. “What kind of supplies?”

Lux turned, glancing back at the museum. “You’d be surprised what we can find in a place like this.”

She gestured around the room, her long skirt twirling as she moved with purpose. “Let’s explore, shall we?”

With that, they set off together, the witch leading the way and Adelle following eagerly, both charged with excitement and the thrill of the unknown. As they wandered through the dimly lit museum, Adelle couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to embark on the most magical adventure of her life.

The atmosphere in the museum crackled with energy as Adelle and Lux exchanged wicked glances, their plans set in motion.

“We’re going to teach them a lesson they won’t forget,” Lux said, her voice dripping with playful malice.

Adelle couldn’t help but grin back, her nerves melting away in the warmth of Lux’s presence. “So, how do we start?”

Lux pondered for a moment, tapping her chin with a delicate finger. “Well, we need to channel some good old-fashioned witchcraft. Let’s use a little bit of what I’ve got lying around here.”

Adelle watched with wide eyes as Lux glided through the museum, her fingers brushing against various artifacts and trinkets. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a vial filled with a shimmering liquid that glowed like moonlight.

“This will be perfect for a little potion of fear,” she said, her voice lilting with mischief.

“Potion of fear?” Adelle echoed, her heart racing.

Lux chuckled softly. “It’s harmless, I promise. Just a little something to give them a good scare, a reminder not to mess with witches.”

“Okay!” Adelle exclaimed, adrenaline pumping through her veins. “Let’s do it!”

With their mischievous scheme ready to unfold, Adelle and Lux slipped through the back door of the museum and into the crisp night air. The moon hung majestically overhead, casting a silvery glow that bathed Salem in a magical light.

As they made their way toward the party, the thumping music pulsed in the distance, vibrating with a life of its own. Adelle stepped closer to Lux, who offered a sweet smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Taking Adelle’s hand in her own, she pulled her nearer, their fingers entwining seamlessly.

Standing just outside the house, they faced one another, the anticipation crackling in the air between them.

“Trust me, okay?” Lux whispered softly, her voice warm and inviting. “I know we’ve just met, but for this next part to work, you really need to trust me.”

Adelle's vibrant green eyes widened, their depth enchanting Lux as she felt herself getting lost in them. After a moment’s hesitation, Adelle nodded, her heart racing in sync with the electricity of the night.

Lux twirled her finger above them, summoning a spark of golden magic that shimmered around them like fireflies caught in a soft breeze. A gasp escaped Adelle’s lips, and she instinctively clung to Lux as they began to rise from the ground.

The world below fell away as they levitated higher and higher, finally landing gracefully on the roof of the house. Adelle's legs trembled beneath her, but the thrill of flight exhilarated her. Lux maintained her hold on Adelle’s hand, grounding her with a reassuring grip.

 Adelle’s heart raced at the thought of confronting the group.

“What if they don’t take it well?” she asked, her excitement tinged with uncertainty.

“Don’t worry, my sweetheart,” Lux said, her smile confident. “A little magic goes a long way.”

As they stood atop the roof, the cool breeze tousling their hair, Adelle gazed down at the lively party below. Colourful lights twinkled like stars, and laughter floated up, but it felt distant now, as if they were in a different world altogether. The thrill of being up so high with Lux filled her with a mix of exhilaration and nerves.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Lux murmured, her voice soft yet electric. She pointed towards the moon, which hung like a silver coin against the backdrop of dark velvet skies, illuminating the scene with an ethereal glow.

Adelle nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from the otherworldly sight.

“It really is,” she breathed, her heart racing. “But why are we up here?”

Lux’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned to Adelle, her grip tightening around her hand. “This is where the real fun begins. We need to give them a taste of magic they won’t forget.”

Adelle felt a tingle of excitement run down her spine. “What do you have in mind?”

With a playful grin, Lux leaned in closer, their faces almost touching. “Trust me and keep your eyes on the ground.”

Without another word, she raised her other hand, and a shimmer of golden light enveloped them. Adelle felt a warm rush as the energy pulsed between them, vibrant and alive. Lux's magic swirled around like glittering fireflies, casting a spell over the roof.

“Now, watch,” Lux instructed, her voice low and enticing.

As Adelle focused on the partygoers below, she watched in awe as Lux began to weave her magic. With each graceful motion of her hands, she summoned wisps of light that danced through the air like playful spirits. The lights flickered and twirled, drawing the attention of the party guests.

“What is that?” someone shouted, pointing upwards.

Adelle’s heart raced as she watched the group below, their expressions shifting from confusion to delight. The flickering lights coalesced into shapes—tiny figures that swirled around the partygoers, mimicking their movements with exaggerated motions.

“What the hell is going on?” Eve exclaimed, her voice cutting through the music.

“Is it a prank?” Tony added, squinting up at the roof.

“Or a show?” Marcus mused, clearly captivated by the spectacle.

Lux leaned closer to Adelle, her breath warm against her cheek. “Let’s add a little sound to the mix, shall we?”

With a mischievous wink, she gestured with her fingers, and the soft hum of ethereal music filled the air, weaving seamlessly with the beats of the party below. The tiny figures danced to the rhythm, swirling in a hypnotic pattern that had everyone entranced.

Adelle couldn’t help but giggle at the chaos unfolding.

“This is amazing!” she whispered; her eyes wide with wonder.

Lux smiled, a radiant expression that lit up her face. “Just wait. We’re just getting started.”

With another flourish of her hands, the lights began to pulse in time with the music, intensifying the experience. Suddenly, bursts of colour erupted from the wisps, showering the party with sparkles of light that twinkled like stars falling from the sky.

Screams of delight mingled with laughter as the guests began to dance and reach for the shimmering lights, completely unaware of the source of their enchantment.

“Now for the grand finale!” Lux announced, her excitement palpable.

Adelle felt the rush of magic surging around them, filling her with an intoxicating thrill. Lux raised her arms high, summoning a swirl of luminous energy that spiralled into the air above them.

“Let’s give them a night to remember!”

With a final flourish, she unleashed the energy into a dazzling explosion of light that filled the night sky, illuminating the house and surrounding area with a brilliance that rivalled the sun. The air crackled with magic as the vibrant colours twisted and twirled, forming a shimmering spectacle that left everyone below in awe.

“Wow!” Lilith gasped, her mouth hanging open as she stared upwards, eyes wide with disbelief.

Lux turned to Adelle, her face aglow with delight. “See how they’re captivated? This is the magic of fear and wonder combined.”

Adelle felt giddy, an infectious laughter bubbling up within her. “This is incredible! They’re completely enchanted!”

As the grand display faded, leaving trails of sparkling light to drift down like confetti, Adelle could see the group below looking utterly mesmerized.

“We’ve done it!” she shouted, her excitement bursting forth.

Lux beamed back at her, the moonlight casting a soft glow around them. “Oh, sweetheart Adelle, this is just the beginning of our magical adventures. They’ll never forget tonight!”

She stepped forward, the night air swirling with magic as she raised her arms. A shimmering mist began to form around them, swirling like smoke as she chanted softly, her voice rising and falling in a melodic rhythm.

“Is that…?” Lilith started, her voice trailing off as the mist enveloped the clearing.

Suddenly, with a dramatic flourish, Lux thrust her hands forward, sending the mist rushing toward the group. It coiled around them like serpents, dark and whispering, sending chills down their spines.

“What the hell?!” Marcus shouted, stumbling backward as the mist swirled ominously around them.

Eve shrieked, her voice piercing the night. “What is this?!”

Lux laughed, a sound like tinkling bells, as she leaned closer to Adelle. “Watch closely, my sweetheart.”

With another flick of her wrist, the mist began to transform, taking on the shapes of grotesque apparitions—twisted figures with hollow eyes and gaping mouths that wailed in despair. The group gasped, fear flashing across their faces.

“W-what is happening?!” Luke stammered, his bravado fading.

Adelle couldn’t help but laugh, a sound bubbling up from within her as she watched the chaos unfold. “This is amazing!”

Lux shot her a knowing smile, her eyes alight with excitement. “We’re just getting started.”

She swirled her arms, and the apparitions began to dance, flickering in and out of existence, their mournful wails echoing in the night. The group backed away, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Please, stop!” Tony pleaded, panic creeping into his voice. “This isn’t funny!”

“Oh, but it is!” Lux sang, her voice dripping with enchantment. “You see, this is what happens when you mess with witches. A little fear goes a long way!”

Adelle felt a thrill of power surge through her as she watched her former tormentor’s squirm. Lilith, who had always seemed so confident, now looked small and vulnerable, her bravado replaced by sheer terror.

“Please, just let us go!” Selena cried, her voice trembling.

Lux paused, her laughter softening as she considered their pleas. “Alright, I think we’ve made our point. But remember this night, my sweetheart friends. Respect the magic, or it will come for you again.”

With another wave of her hand, the mist retreated, dissipating into the night like smoke. The apparitions vanished, leaving the group gasping for breath, their faces pale.

Adelle stepped forward, her heart racing. “Next time, think twice before locking someone inside a museum.”

Lilith, still trembling, nodded frantically. “We’re sorry! We didn’t mean it!”

“Consider yourselves warned,” Lux said, her tone playful yet firm. “One last thing~”

Adelle watched in awe as Lux's demeanour shifted. The playful glimmer in her eyes transformed into something deeper, more powerful.

Lux stepped forward, her presence commanding the attention of every soul below, and began to sing. The night air shimmered with magic as her voice floated down, hauntingly beautiful and rich with emotion.

“I put a spell on you, and now you’re mine…”

The melody wrapped around the partygoers like a silken thread, drawing their gazes upward, mesmerized by the enchanting figure on the roof. Lux’s voice rose and fell, each note dripping with allure, cascading down like a waterfall of sound that beckoned them to dance.

“You can’t stop the things I do, I ain’t lyin’…”

The crowd swayed as if caught in a gentle current, their inhibitions melting away with each haunting lyric. Faces lit up with smiles, feet began to tap, and before long, laughter and joy swirled through the air like autumn leaves caught in a breeze.

Lux twirled gracefully on the rooftop, her skirts swirling around her like a spellbinding fog, her hair cascading like a golden waterfall. The glow of the moon illuminated her, casting an ethereal light that made her seem otherworldly.

“You’re in love with me, now, I can see…”

Adelle felt her heart race as she watched the spell take hold. The partygoers danced and twirled, entranced, lost in the rhythm of the night. It was as if the world below had transformed into a fantastical dream, every soul enchanted by Lux's melodic voice.

“I put a spell on you, and now you’re mine…”

The crescendo of the song echoed through the night, wrapping around each partygoer, compelling them to dance as if they had no choice. Adelle couldn’t help but join in, her laughter mingling with the music as she swayed her body to the hypnotic rhythm.

As the final notes echoed into the night, the last traces of the spell lingered, binding the partygoers in a euphoric trance, and Adelle turned to Lux, her eyes wide with wonder.

“This is incredible!” she exclaimed, her voice barely rising above the joyous chaos below.

Lux flashed her a bewitching smile, her voice a gentle whisper. “Welcome to the magic of the night, sweetheart. Together, we can make it last forever.”

The two sat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the side, their laughter echoing into the night. Below them, the crowd swayed and twirled, caught in a spell that rendered them blissfully unaware of anything outside their euphoric dance. It was as if the world had melted away, leaving only the rhythmic beat of the music and the joy of movement.

Adelle couldn’t take her eyes off the scene, mesmerized by the sight of Lilith and her friends—the very ones who had locked her in that eerie museum—spinning in circles, unable to resist the magic.

"Look at them," she said, her voice tinged with disbelief. "They can't even stop to catch their breath."

Lux leaned into Adelle’s side, a playful nudge that sent warmth spiraling through Adelle.

"Don’t worry, it’ll all wear off when the sun rises," she replied with a soft smile, her voice as soothing as a lullaby.

Adelle turned her gaze to Lux, eyes sparkling with admiration. "You’re amazing. You really are."

Lux’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she looked down, shyly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Thank you… nobody’s ever said that before," she admitted, a hint of vulnerability colouring her tone.

Curiosity bubbled within Adelle, and she hesitated for a moment before asking, “Is it true? The myth about you… sucking out the souls of children?”

Lux’s expression shifted, a shadow of sadness flickering across her face. She shook her head, her voice firm yet gentle. “Of course it isn’t. I never harmed a child. I’ve never harmed anyone.”

Adelle frowned, sensing the weight of unspoken stories behind those words.

“Lux?” she began, her voice soft with concern, but before she could continue, Lux stood up, her beautiful dress billowing in the wind like petals in a breeze.

“Adelle, would you like to go flying?” she asked, her warm smile radiating excitement.

Adelle’s eyes widened, her heart racing at the thought. “Flying? How?”

Lux giggled, her laughter like the tinkling of chimes. She held out her hand, her azure eyes sparkling as she pointed to the scattered broomsticks below. With a flick of her wrist, one broomstick lifted from the ground, soaring gracefully into her waiting grasp.

“Like this,” she said, curling her fingers around the handle and, with a small kick, hovered effortlessly above the roof.

Adelle gasped, peering nervously over the edge.

“What if I fall?” she exclaimed, a mixture of thrill and fear swirling within her.

Lux laughed softly, the sound wrapping around Adelle like a warm embrace. “I won’t drop you, I promise.”

With a deep breath, Adelle swallowed her apprehension. “Alright…” she whispered, her heart pounding with both excitement and anxiety.

Lux brought the broomstick closer, her smile reassuring.

“It’ll be alright, really,” she assured, her voice soothing as a gentle breeze.

Adelle inhaled deeply, a shy smile creeping across her lips as she inched forward. Lux extended her hand, guiding Adelle to the spot behind her on the broomstick.

As Adelle pressed herself against Lux’s back, a delightful shiver raced down her spine.

“You’re going to need to hold on,” Lux said softly, her breath warm against Adelle’s skin.

“I-is this okay?” Adelle asked bashfully, her arms wrapping around Lux’s waist, holding on tighter than she had intended.

“Perfect, Adelle,” Lux beamed, her eyes twinkling with joy. “Just don’t lose your grip and trust me, okay?”

With a playful tilt, Lux kicked off the roof, and they both soared into the night sky. The world below faded away, and Adelle felt the rush of the wind against her face, a thrill coursing through her veins as they danced among the stars.

As Lux guided the broomstick higher into the twinkling night sky, the world below transformed into a tapestry of glowing lights and shadowy silhouettes. The crisp air rushed around them, filling Adelle’s lungs with a mix of exhilaration and magic. Each sway of the broomstick felt fluid and effortless, a reflection of Lux’s grace and confidence.

Adelle squeezed her arms tighter around Lux’s waist, instinctively pressing herself against her back. The warmth radiating from Lux was comforting, grounding her amidst the thrill of their flight. Her long brown and red curls danced wildly in the wind, swirling behind her like a vibrant banner that caught the light of the stars above. Adelle gasped in awe, her heart racing at the beauty of the night sky—each star shining brightly as if they were sparkling just for them.

“Look at how beautiful it is!” Adelle exclaimed; her voice almost drowned out by the rush of wind. She leaned slightly to the side, trying to take in the full view of the night. “I’ve never seen anything like this!”

Lux glanced back at her, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief and delight.

“Just wait until you see it from above the clouds,” she teased, a smile dancing on her lips. With a playful flick of her wrist, she guided the broomstick even higher, breaking through the thin veil of clouds that floated like wisps of cotton candy.

As they emerged above the clouds, Adelle’s breath caught in her throat. The stars shone even brighter here, twinkling like diamonds scattered across a velvet backdrop. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow that illuminated everything around them. Adelle could hardly believe she was flying through this enchanting world with a witch as captivating as Lux.

“Lux, this is incredible!” Adelle gasped, her voice laced with wonder. She leaned closer, resting her chin gently on Lux’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing beneath her arms.

In that moment, surrounded by the magic of the night, time seemed to stand still. Adelle’s heart swelled as she inhaled the sweet scent of lavender and honey that clung to Lux. The intimacy of their proximity stirred something deep within her, a yearning that pulsed through her veins.

“Do you like it?” Lux asked, her voice soft and melodic, barely louder than a whisper as they hovered above the world. She leaned back slightly, allowing Adelle to feel her warmth even more.

“I love it,” Adelle replied earnestly, her heart racing. “I love being here with you.”

She tightened her grip, and as if sensing her need for reassurance, Lux leaned back further, allowing their bodies to meld together, every curve and contour aligning seamlessly.

The moonlight bathed them in a gentle glow, casting soft shadows that danced on their skin. Adelle couldn’t help but marvel at how beautifully close they were, the sound of their hearts beating in unison, the electric energy crackling between them.

“Is this real?” Adelle asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Is this really happening?”

Lux turned her head just enough to meet Adelle’s gaze, her expression softening.

“It’s real, Adelle. You’re here with me,” she murmured, her breath brushing against Adelle’s cheek, sending shivers down her spine.

Feeling bold, Adelle tilted her head, their faces inches apart, the world below forgotten. “Lux…” she breathed, her heart racing, and in that moment, the space between them felt charged with an unspoken promise.

“Yes?” Lux asked, her eyes locking onto Adelle’s with a spark of curiosity and warmth.

“Can I…” Adelle hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment. “Can I kiss you?”

The question hung in the air, thick with anticipation. Lux’s smile widened, and a soft laugh escaped her lips, filled with both mischief and affection. “Oh, Adelle, you don’t even have to ask.”

With that invitation, Adelle leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met softly at first, a tentative brush that quickly ignited into something deeper, more passionate. Time seemed to melt away as they kissed, the warmth of Lux’s lips igniting a fire within Adelle that she had never felt before.

As they pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, the world felt different—more vibrant, more alive. Adelle nestled back against Lux’s back, her heart racing with excitement and joy, the night sky stretching endlessly above them as they flew into the unknown, together.

As they descended from the night sky, Lux expertly guided the broomstick back towards her museum house, the familiar silhouette of the building rising in the moonlight. Adelle felt a mix of exhilaration and bittersweetness as they approached the ground. With a gentle swoop, Lux landed gracefully, her feet touching the ground as Adelle carefully slid off behind her.

Once they were both safely on the cobblestone path, Adelle turned to Lux, still feeling the thrill of their flight coursing through her veins. She took both of Lux's hands in hers, looking up into the witch’s striking blue eyes.

“Thank you, Lux,” she said earnestly. “Everything you’ve done for me—it's been too much.”

Lux’s cheeks flushed a soft pink at the sincerity of Adelle’s words. A gentle smile graced her lips, a mix of warmth and shyness.

“It was my pleasure,” she replied, her voice softening as they shared a quiet moment.

With a shared glance, they entered the museum together. As soon as they stepped inside, they were greeted by the eager mews of Dazzle and Razzle, the two cats racing towards them. They wound around Lux's legs, whining for attention, their eyes sparkling with delight. Adelle laughed as she bent down to scoop up Razzle, who immediately nestled into her arms, purring loudly.

“Looks like they missed you,” Adelle said, looking up at Lux with a playful grin.

Lux chuckled, gently cradling Dazzle in her arms.

“They always know when I’ve been away. They have a sixth sense for mischief,” she teased, and then her expression turned contemplative. “But they’re not the only ones.”

As she strolled through the dimly lit museum, holding Dazzle close, her demeanour shifted. The light-heartedness faded, replaced by an underlying sadness. Adelle followed beside her, holding Razzle, sensing that there was more to Lux than met the eye.

“What really happened to you, Lux?” Adelle asked gently, her curiosity piqued. “You mentioned your curse… but what led to it?”

Lux sighed, glancing down at Dazzle as the cat curled comfortably against her chest.

“I never wanted to settle down, to marry and have children,” she began, her voice softer now, tinged with an ache. “I didn’t have feelings for any young man, which was… unusual. The mayor believed I should marry his son, but I didn’t want to. I hated him—he was a disgusting pighead.”

Adelle’s heart ached at the bitterness in Lux’s words.

“You told him no?” she asked, her grip on Razzle tightening.

Lux nodded, her expression distant as she recalled the memories. “I did. But he kept trying to force me into marriage. One day, I snapped. I used my magic, thinking it would teach him a lesson. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

Stepping closer to her, Adelle placed a comforting hand on Lux’s arm. “You were defending yourself. You had every right to refuse.”

Lux leaned into Adelle’s touch, the warmth of the gesture wrapping around her like a comforting cloak.

“You’re too kind, Adelle,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve had so much fun tonight with you. You’re… unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

Adelle felt her cheeks heat at the compliment. “I’m happy to have met you too, Lux…but why… why are you talking like this is the end? We’ll see each other again, right?”

Lux’s smile faltered, becoming more pained. Her blue eyes softened, almost glistening in the dim light of the museum. “Oh, Adelle. My candle doesn’t work that way. I’m only allowed one night.”

Adelle gasped, her heart sinking at the revelation. “One night? No, that’s not fair! You can’t just have the one night.”

Lux hummed softly, looking down with flushed cheeks. “The curse was written like that.”

“There must be a way for you to stay longer,” Adelle insisted, desperation creeping into her voice.

Lux bit her bottom lip, a flicker of hope in her eyes as she whispered, “There is one way…”

“What is it?” Adelle asked, holding Lux close, her heart racing. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Lux gasped, her gaze locking onto Adelle’s with wide, earnest eyes. “Kiss me.”

Adelle froze, surprise flooding her features. “I… s-sorry?”

Lux turned red, her fingers nervously pinching the fabric of Adelle's cloak. “I… if you kiss me…”

“If you make love to me…I can stay,” she explained, her voice trembling slightly. “A virgin must lit my black flamed candle for me to be raised from the dead. If I take that virginity…in the same night, I can stay…but there must be…feelings between us.”

A whirlwind of emotions surged through Adelle—confusion, excitement, and a deep longing she had never felt before. This was a decision that felt monumental, and yet it seemed so natural. She looked into Lux’s pleading eyes, filled with hope and something deeper.

“Are you sure?” Adelle asked, her voice a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Lux nodded; her expression unwavering. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this moment with you.”

Taking a deep breath, Adelle leaned in, her heart pounding as their lips met. It was electric, a jolt of magic that surged through them both. The kiss deepened, fuelled by the connection they had forged throughout the night, binding them in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting.

As they finally pulled apart, both breathless and flushed, Adelle felt a warmth bloom in her chest.

“Lux… I want to spend more time with you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “I-I want you stay…with me.”

Lux smiled softly, her eyes shining. “Then make love to me, Adelle…”

Adelle took a shaky breath as she stepped closer, her fingers trembling as she reached for Lux. The beautiful witch smiled reassuringly, her warm eyes meeting Adelle’s gaze as she guided Adelle’s hands to her waist. Slowly, Lux leaned in, meeting Adelle halfway until their lips finally brushed together in a gentle, tender kiss.

At first, it was soft and delicate, their lips barely grazing, testing the waters. But as they lingered, the kiss deepened, a growing warmth igniting between them. Adelle’s heart raced, and she leaned in closer, savouring the way Lux's lips moved against hers, each moment more intoxicating than the last. When they finally parted, Adelle found herself gasping softly, her cheeks flushed, and her breaths uneven.

Lux giggled, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she cupped Adelle’s face in her hands. “Have you never kissed anyone before?” she asked, her voice filled with gentle curiosity.

Adelle’s face grew even redder, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“No,” she admitted softly. “You’re… the first person I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

Lux’s smile softened; her expression filled with warmth. “Me too, Adelle. You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted before.”

Something in Adelle’s chest swelled at those words, and before she knew it, she was leaning in again, pressing her lips to Lux’s once more. This time, the kiss was more assured, more passionate. Lux melted into her, wrapping her arms around Adelle’s shoulders, pulling her close as she returned the kiss with equal fervour. Adelle’s hands tightened around Lux’s waist, holding her close as they lost themselves in the moment, the world around them fading into nothing.

Lux slowly pulled away, her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at Adelle, who was breathless, her eyes shining with an emotion that seemed to mirror Lux's own.

“I never thought…” Lux whispered, almost to herself, her fingertips tracing a gentle line along Adelle’s cheek. “I never thought I’d feel this way.”

“I…really like you, Luxie.” Adelle admitted bashfully.

Taking a step back, Lux pulled at her cloak, untying it and allowing it fall down her body. She then took hold of Adelle’s hand again, and tenderly led her towards the staircase. Her eyes twinkles as the two began to climb the steps, towards Lux’s bedroom. Adelle had been expecting an old, cobwebbed room, but that wasn’t the case. With a twinkling golden snap of her fingers, the room morphed into a cleaner and fresher version of her room.

“You’re so beautiful…” Adelle mumbled softly, shyly. “I’ve never meet somebody as beautiful as you are before.”

Chuckling, Lux lightly began to pull at the ribbons and lace holding her dress together. “You’re beautiful too, Addie. I think you’re gorgeous. You’re more beautiful

As the first light of dawn began to break, Adelle and Lux made their way to Adelle’s home, fingers intertwined as they walked up the steps. Razzle and Dazzle trotted along behind, their soft purrs adding a quiet harmony to the early morning stillness. Reaching the front door, Adelle glanced at Lux with a warm smile, heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Mum, I’m home,” Adelle called softly as they stepped inside. She barely had a moment to breathe before her mother appeared, worry etched into every line of her face.

“Adelle! You’ve been out all night—I was so worried! I was about to call the police and—” Her mother’s voice trailed off when she noticed Lux standing by Adelle’s side.

The surprise in her mother’s eyes made Adelle blush.

“Adelle! You made a friend?” she said, delighted but still surprised.

Lux dipped into a graceful curtsy, flashing a charming smile. “My name is Lux Morningstar, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m afraid Adelle was out so late helping me…”

Adelle met her mother’s gaze, nodding with a sheepish smile. “Lux got… well, kicked out of her apartment, Mum.”

Her mother gasped, immediately rushing toward Lux and enveloping her in a hug.

“Oh, you poor thing!” she exclaimed, practically squeezing the life out of her. “Where are your parents, sweetheart?”

Caught off guard, Lux stammered, glancing helplessly at Adelle as she attempted to return the hug. “Er… well… I don’t have any, ma’am. I’m… an orphan.”

Adelle’s mother’s eyes softened even more as she clutched Lux tighter, who looked over at Adelle in quiet desperation.

“Oh, you poor baby!” her mother exclaimed, her voice thick with compassion. “Of course, you can stay here. You’re welcome for as long as you need!”

Finally, her mother loosened her hold, and Lux took a deep breath, laughing nervously as she stepped back.

“Thank you, ma’am,” she said with a grateful smile, glancing toward Adelle, who reached out to gently steady her.

“Alright, you two,” her mother said, crossing her arms but with a soft smile. “It’s very late. I want you both in bed to get some sleep.”

Adelle nodded and led Lux up the stairs, guiding her carefully so she wouldn’t trip in her still-nervous daze. They reached Adelle’s room, and as they entered, the comfort of the space settled over them both. Adelle pulled Lux onto the bed with a laugh, and they tumbled down together, Lux curling into Adelle’s side, her eyes bright and filled with quiet happiness.

“Your mum seems really nice,” she whispered, snuggling in close as Razzle and Dazzle jumped up onto the bed and settled down beside them.

Adelle beamed, wrapping an arm around her. “She is… and I’m really glad you get to stay with me now, Lux.”

She pressed a gentle kiss to Lux’s forehead, feeling her heart race at the warmth between them.

Lux closed her eyes, a soft smile gracing her lips as she nestled closer, her fingers brushing Adelle’s in a quiet, affectionate gesture.

 “I never thought I’d find this… find you,” she murmured. “Thank you, Adelle.”

They drifted into a peaceful sleep, content in each other’s arms as the morning light filtered through the room.

[corishadowfang]

Ephemer Week Day 1

Prompt: Light | Leadership | Favourite canon line/scene?

Happy first day of Ephemer week! Haha, I saw the prompt list and went, "Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing for this one." So, uh. Basically this picture has a drabble now. Also consider this an apology for not updating The Age of Fairytales in a hot minute.

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

            Ephemer could still remember a time when Light and Darkness had only been stories.

            (“Dad, dad, come on, please?”

            “Hahaha, alright, alright.  What one did you want to hear?”

            “The one with the—the light warrior!”

            “Caelum?”

            “Yeah!”)

            It hadn’t been that long ago, even.  When he’d been little, he’d sat and begged his dad for stories that he’d half-believed were true, and then he’d drag him out on journeys to the edges of his own town, play-fighting mud monsters and poking a toy sword under every rock and in every tree, like he could unearth them creatures from the legends with just a little work.  As he’d gotten older, they’d faded into the background a bit—never gone, but pushed to the side in favor of newer, much more tangible mysteries.

            (“Well, alright.  A very, very long time ago, there was a boy who was—oh, a little like you.  Curious, and bright, and always finding his way into trouble.  But he had a heart of gold.  He loved others, deeply and truly, and even when he was small, he would stand up to bullies and take in strays and—”

            “—and he’d even go and fight monsters!”

            “Hang on, Ephemer, I’m getting to that part.”)

            The reality of Darkness was terrifying in how deceptively normal it had seemed, at first.  Just a small, almost humanoid shape, shadows whisping off its shoulders.  No gnashing jaws or sharp claws and bright, glowing eyes—nothing as terrifying as the Heartless.  It had seemed manageable, almost, right up until they’d had to fight it, and the world had started falling apart underneath them.

            (“This boy came from a small village.  They didn’t have many warriors, and only one poor, lonely mage to try and protect them—because you see, all around them lived monsters.  Some were big, hulking things, beady-eyed and covered in shadows; others were small and insect-like, the only signs of their presence the scuttling sounds as they moved; and others almost looked like humans, if you didn’t look at them straight, but everything was just a little bit off.  They preyed on the weak, and the vulnerable, snapping them up when they got too close to the edges of the village.  At night, their weeping, wailing voices rose from the trees, begging for the losts’ loved ones to come out and join them.

            “Now, the village leaders had reached out to the cities around them, asking for aid.  Surely, they said, they would have enough to spare—they had so much more than they had, after all, and they just needed a little help to keep their people safe.  But they were dismissed, or ignored entirely, and as weeks and months passed, the population slowly began to dwindle.

            “They all knew something must be done—but they didn’t know what, because they were all already tired, worn thin by the constant fighting.  And so this boy thought, ‘I will do something.  I will go out, and I will find a way to protect my home from the monsters, so we won’t lose anyone else.’”)

            Light was something else entirely.

            (“And so he traveled, days upon days upon days, crossing treacherous terrain, and—”

            “And eventually he got to the top of the hiiiighest mountain, and that’s where he met Light!”

            “Hahaha, are you telling the story, or am I?”

            “Oops.  Sorry, Dad.”)

            Ephemer wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing right.  He could hear the way it echoed in his ears—loud enough to nearly drown out the sound of water sloshing around his legs, one hesitant step back after another.  His eyes trailed up, and up, and they ached as he stared at the thing that had trailed across the sky.

            (“But yes—the boy reached the very top of the very tallest mountain in the world, and there he collapsed, exhausted from his journey and uncertain where else to look.  He laid there, sleeping, for three days and nights, until finally something warm washed across his shoulders.  And then there came a voice—whisper-quiet and bell-like, fragile enough to break, if he focused too hard.  ‘Little one,’ it said, ‘why do you lie here?’

            “‘I am tired,’ he answered, ‘and I don’t know where else to go.’”)

            In all the stories, it’d never fully dawned on him just how much more Light would be.  It seemed vast enough to span the world, if it wanted; it sprawled in ribbons across the night sky, casting the ruins of Daybreak Town in harsh relief, so big that he couldn’t possible take it all in at once.  The colors that flickered through it made his head pulse—there were too many, things that his eyes knew were there but couldn’t see.  It was so bright that it hurt; it was like staring at the sun, except there was something drawing him in, keeping him from blinking or turning away.  A sharp, prickling heat jabbed needles across his skin; it would’ve made him shake, if he’d been able to move much at all.

            (“‘What do you mean?’

            “‘I have been traveling a very long time.  I was looking for a way to protect my home from monsters—but I am small, and weak, and have not been able to find anything anywhere.  I am not sure what to do, but I can’t go home now—not when I don’t have a way to help anyone.’

            “And the voice was quiet a moment, as if in thought—and then it answered, ‘It seems to me that you have already done a great deal.  You have traveled further than any others, in search of salvation for your loved ones—but that is more than any human can handle.  So allow me to provide you with my blessing, so that you may protect your home, just as you have dreamed.’

            “And when the boy opened his eyes, the world burst into colors—reds and greens and blues and colors that we cannot name, so bright they nearly blinded him.  They spread across the sky, and in their depths, he thought he could make out the shape of eyes, staring down at him.”)

            “What—”  His voice cracked, mouth dry, and he broke off, licking his lips.  “What is—”

            He didn’t know what to say.  Was this some—some dream?  A vision of some sort, brought on by restless nights spent in the graveyard that used to be his home?  What was this—this thing doing here, in front of him, of all people?

            Something shifted—eyes, he realized after a moment, the only dark spots in the sky, crinkling as if in amusement.

            (“You will do well, my Champion.”)

            “Hello, Little One.  We have been watching you.”

[annastylepie]

The messenger

Dp x Dc prompt 2 uwu

imadgine danny moves to gotham for a new life and trying to no longer be a hero decides to therefore move to a place that already has heroes and enoght ambient ectoplasm to sustain healty or something. I imadine this appening after jason just started as robin

What danny seems to only realize after a couplt weeks in the city is that the other citicents can't see all the ghosts around them, or well any ghosts at all not even him when in phantom form and that is when he isn't invisible. Why can the Amity parkers see the ghosts? I believe that all the ecto exposure gave them the ability or smth.

So danny goes around greeting the Ghosts talking to them chilling in random corners and vibing with different ghosts talking about live and death. I imadgine danny would help some ghosts into the Zone to help them. After some time and many recently deseased asking him to deliver messenges to their loved ones he gives and finds the families friends partners pets and in very rare cases even plants of the ghosts to deliver the messenges. Some ghosts feel ready to move on afterwards and go to the zone others stick around and regularly chill with Danny. I imadgine some would also just always stick around with him and might help him out at times like reminding him of some stuff or warning him when he is about to get mugged or jumped or whatever.

The Gothamites after some time take note of the deadly pale young man delivering the last masseges of their loved ones. He soon becomes a legend and if he approaches you with the look of sorrow you just know someone died or you will recieve the saddest "they loved you, they missed you, they are so so proud of you, they are sorry etc, etc" at times it seems that if you touch the massenger you can see the ghost of the ghost standing with you after delivering the massege and asking if they have any last words for the person to be delivered. Afterward the boy and the ghosts would dissapear from view

The young boy wandering the streets at all hours that can't be mugged jumped or even suprised is the legend you can't find him if you search for him nobody knows who he is or where he'd come from or where he'd go.

Some would call him cotton eyed Joe

Some Says he is a ghost

Others say he is a Grim reaper

Some says he is the murderer of the people whose massenges he delivers

and then others don't believe in him until they saw him with their own eyes

Whoever he is he is sitting dangerously close to the edge of a building currently as Batman is watching him. Batman makes a step closer to the boy. In the exact moment said boy turns around. A sorrowful looks comes over his face. He makes a step closer to Batman.

"Bruce Wayne" The Boy spoke looking seemingly right throu the cowl and taking bruce by surprise

"What?"

"your Parents are so Proud of you they hoped to have more time to be with you in Person."

"they wh-"

"They never blamed you and want you to know that they are so proud of you and your new family and to never forget what is important"

"I- they- "

"Do you have a messege for them?" the boy asks touching the hand of bruce. Bruce sees a flash of his parents next to him before reflexively pulling his hand back and slowing down.

"Is-Is this real?"

wordlessly the boy touches his shoulder and he sees them a tear escapes his eyes and a soft "I am so sorry" escapes and after the blink of the eye the boy and his parents disapear.

This was not how bruce wanted this to go.

He didn't see the boy again but not because of lack of trying but because there is litterly nothing to find of him it is like he doesn't even exist unless he stopped aging at some point. He does look a lot like the missing fenton kid from a couple years back.

However after jasons death after Nightwing tried to kill the Joker he sees the kid again not a day older then when he first saw him this time however bruce was just bruce and not batman.

"bruce wayne"

"yes"

" Your son Jason"

"Can I see him" he asks looking hopeful but unsetteld he was never this open he already acted weard when the kid showed up the first time. This wasnt any betters.

the boy touchers his shoulder and there he is his Jason his youngest bird, the late robin. Tears well up at the corner of bruces eyes but not letting them fall.

"I am so so sorry. I wasn't fast enoght I couldn't protect you" bruce weeps

"There was nothing you could have done. He forgives you for not saving him in Time. He wants Justice for his death and want s you to take care of it"

"I will do my best" not a moment after those words left bruces mouth the child and his late son dissapeared and Bruce has a mission. He will destroy the Jokers live he will make sure he won't hurt anyone ever again. But he won't kill him.

[coffeeandbatboys]

His New Religion (Wolffe x Fem!Reader)

for my friend @alegendoftomorrow in the @cloneficgiftexchange!

A/N: So this ended up summing up a lot of what happened before, during and after Right Here Waiting and its wedding sequel, part 2, which I know Legend had read, so my brain took the idea and ran with it.

Warnings: a little bit of angst, some awkward fluffies and a badly summed up slow burn with a happy ending

Prompt(s): “But somewhere there's a light//A sign that it's alright//I find it by your side” (New Religion, The Heydaze),

“Always thought those feelings, they were stories not made for me // It's terrifying, but I'm pretty certain it's worth it” || “I didn't know you were something I could need // Until you, until you loved my everything // The good, the bad, the in between, all of me” || “But all the hell we've been through had a purpose // Together we are chaos and it's perfect” (I Didn’t Know, Sofia Carson)

Wordcount: 856

If someone had sat cadet cc-3636 down and told him that he'd be living with the love of his life one day…

…He would have broken out laughing.

And yet Wolffe, the grumpy, no-nonsense commander of the 104th, had melted like a puddle the first night he spent in your embrace.

The two of you had met during a whirlwind campaign. You had needed him to sign some forms to accept supply restocks, and he’d obliged with a grumble, voicing his negative remarks about ‘redundant protocols’.

The next meeting happened in the mess hall. You’d been covering for a friend in the food line when you caught his sharp, analyzing gaze. With a blush and a smile, you served him his rations, a begrudgingly mumbled ‘thanks’ reaching your ears.

A few weeks later and it was in the medbay. You'd dropped a box on your foot, earning yourself a broken toe, while Wolffe had garnered a blaster graze to the bicep. He was reserved as usual, but engaged in some awkward, short-lived conversation about your odd jobs in the GAR while the medics patched the two of you up.

After that, you didn't see him for a long while.

And one night you found him at the door of your quarters, pacing; deciding whether he should knock or not. That was the night he had first asked you out on date.

Shore leave dates turned into nights curled in each others’ loving embrace and soft mornings filled with nothing but bliss. Harrowing weeks apart turned into joyful reunions and a growing love between you.

And one night, all of that became your beloved Wolffe falling to a knee and asking for the honor of your hand in marriage. You'd never given a second thought about saying yes.

You vividly remember after that weekend the way he kissed you goodbye and promised to return safely.

But as fate would have it, he was taken away from you. The Empire rose out of the Republic's ashes, throwing everyone's lives into pure chaos and cutting the ties between you and your love.

You didn't see your fiancé for a year. Instead, you'd joined a network of rogue clones that led you to Rex, and had began working with them.

Then there was Teth, where you saw him again, but not as an ally. You were glad to see Wolffe, despite the reunion being marred by grief and despair. But oh, how you wanted to reach out and bring him back into your arms, even knowing he wasn't the same.

Weeks passed, and he seemed to make his decision when Rex and Echo brought him back to the new base. He danced around the subject for a while, afraid to find out what you would say. But one look into your hopeful eyes was all it took for him to break down in your arms.

The two of you wed in a simple ceremony, surrounded by his brothers, who had become just as much family to you. In that moment, the trials of the past gave way to a hopeful future, with you and Wolffe facing the challenges of a tumultuous galaxy together.

Now today, as you look out into the setting sun, you smile. Who would have thought that a love tested by loyalty, betrayal and heartache would heal in such a way?

Wolffe hums behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as a kiss is pressed behind your ear.

“If you keep staring at the sun, Mesh’la,” he remarks, squeezing you a little. “—you'll go blind.”

You laugh brightly and wiggle around to face him. He smiles and let's his lips brush across your cheeks, nose and forehead, before landing on your own in a tender kiss.

“I suppose I have something better to stare at here,” you tease. The golden hour glow highlights his best features. His hair has begun to gray at the temples, silver strands fading into his thick curls, and his cybernetic eye glitters in the sunlight. His jaw bears a little bit of stubble; a deliberate choice, you assume.

“Oh?” He asks, forehead resting gently upon yours.

“Yeah,” you answer, reaching up to caress his scar. His eyes flutter closed.

“What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours, huh?

You smile. “I was just thinking. About us.” Your head rests against his shoulder as a warm breeze dusts both of you.

He hums deeply in acknowledgment, a kiss being placed to your temple.

“Also known as: a scratch and dent clone falls in love with a smart, caring, drop dead gorgeous woman?”

You laugh lightly and shake your head. “More like, How a man and woman’s love made it through all sorts of trials.”

Wolffe’s face falls a little, but you cup his cheek to turn his gaze toward you.

“And what happened is in the past. We have all the time in the world now, yeah?”

He smiles ever so slightly and holds you close. “Yeah Mesh'la. That sounds perfect.”

And he thinks now that he’s had a taste of love, he can get used to it for the long run.

[thatapostateboy]

we all have a hunger

Pairing: Rook & Lavellan (platonic), brief hint at Solas x Female Lavellan

Word Count: 1675

Synopsis: In which Rook and Lavellan finally get to talk.

Prompt: Day Two: Rebellion from the Veilbound challenge by @/nympthi and @/citadrells on Twitter

Warnings: Mentions of slavery, Veilguard mild spoilers/speculation

Crossposted: Here on AO3

Rook wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Lavellan. She’d heard the stories of course, from rumours whispered amongst slaves and nobles alike in Tevinter to hearing it straight from Varric’s mouth, and yet none of them were quite able to do the fabled Herald of Andraste justice. Solas had painfully little to say, often cutting that line of questioning short whenever she so much as hinted at a connection between them. Harding had been the most honest, telling her that yes, she was a hero, that she had walked in the Fade and slayed would-be gods, but that she was a woman, a person, same as the rest of them.

Rook found that all but impossible to believe when the legend herself had strode through the Eluvian like she owned the place, demanding to know what was going on and why the Evanuris were rampaging across Northern Thedas. She looked like one of the illustrations in Varric’s books come to life, minus the flowing hair and waving standard of the Inquisition planted behind her.

She had not taken charge, though Rook would not have protested to someone more qualified taking control of the situation, but there was a respect and reverence around her. When she so much as entered a room, everyone paid attention, even Assan.

It took weeks of hard-fought battles at each other’s side, even harder fought conversations as the two differing personalities attempted to work together, but Rook finally saw her.

It had been the early hours of the morning, or whatever counted as morning in the Fade, but as the other members of the Veilguard had found sleep, Rook had found none, and it seemed that neither had Lady Lavellan. Rook found her already sat at the kitchen island, a cup of tea in her hand, staring contemplatively down into the steaming liquid.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Lavellan looked up at her, letting out a sigh, “Is it that obvious?”

“I hate to break it you, but the circles under your eyes give it away,” she pointed out, pouring her own mug of tea and leaning against the counter to look at her, “Does it ever get easier? Finding rest after everything we see?”

“I’ll tell you when I know,” she gave a soft snort into her mug as she took a mouthful.

Rook sipped at her own mug, humming at the taste, “Is that honey… with hints of dragonthorn?”

Lavellan’s eyebrows rose, “You have quite the palate. It’s my own special blend. I guessed there wouldn’t be much tea here so I’ve been mixing my own.”

“No, the Dread Wolf doesn’t seem to be a fan of tea,” Rook noted, “Or most things, I’ve found.”

“Not entirely true, he does have a taste for tiny cakes.”

Rook smiled at that, “And what about you, Lady Lavellan? What do you have a taste for? Aside from excellent tea blends.”

“Honey cakes,” she admitted, “I used to make them all of the time when I was young, my papae’s family recipe… I can’t remember when I last had the time to bake. Everything just been so…”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “It has… Y’know, I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me? Whatever for?”

“Coming out of retirement, being here to keep my ass out of the fire,” she said.

“Sweet as it is for you to say, I never actually retired,” she pointed out, “Keeping people’s asses out of the fire is what I’ve been doing since the Conclave exploded.”

Rook examined her for a few moments, then gave a resounding nod, “Breakfast.”

“What?”

“I’m going to make you breakfast.”

“I couldn’t impose-”

“It’s the least I can do, all things considered. Besides, I enjoy cooking, so c’mon, what do you…” she trailed off, eyes landing firmly on the one unused pan that still hung on the rack, “How about an omelette?”

A smile spread across Lavellan’s face, “They are my absolute favourite, how did you know?”

“What’s with the one omelette pan?”

The conversation had occurred within the first week of living at the Lighthouse, not long after the full team had been recruited and they had truly begun to explore what the Dread Wolf had to hide away. And for all of the mysteries and magics here, there was only one thing that truly bothered Rook.

The irritation in Solas’ voice was palpable as he turned to look at her, “I’m sorry?”

“You have the most depressing kitchen setup, you own one fork, spoon, knife, plate, bowl and cup, all which look like they’ve never been used… and yet you have a top-of-the-line Orlesian omelette pan.”

He huffed, “Of all of the inane queries you have used this tenuous connection for- How do you know it’s Orlesian? And that it is designed for omelettes?”

She put her hands on her hips, “I know my way around a kitchen with my eyes shut. So, what does a god who doesn’t eat need with an omelette pan?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Very well,” she nodded, “Lucanis was looking to use it, I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t some hidden magical art-”

“No!”

She glanced up at him with a mirthful smirk at his protest, “No?”

“It’s…” he regained his composure a little, “I was saving it for a special occasion.”

Her smirk only grew, “I’ll tell Lucanis to get his own. The omelette pan will remain untouched until you can escape the Fade and treat yourself to breakfast.”

Oh that old wolf had it bad.

“Educated guess,” Rook smiled.

“I’ve had a love for them since I tried them on my first trip to Orlais, back when the Breach had just opened. I had to adjust to shem food, but the omelettes, I fell in love with them.”

“Then you’re in luck. Omelettes are my signature dish.”

“You’re sure it’s no trouble?”

“As I said, it is literally the least I can do.”

Rook grabbed the pan that had sat untouched for Maker knows how long, setting it to warm up on the stove as she gathered ingredients out of the cold storage. She set to work, cracking three eggs and whisking them through a sieve, creating a smooth mixture.

Lavellan watched her, still nursing her tea, “I have to admit, I’m impressed that you got the dragonthorn on the first try. I thought it was quite subtle. I didn’t realise I was in the presence of a connoisseur.”

Rook hummed as she whisked, “Hardly. I spent the better part of my youth being trained how to cook by only the finest of Orlesian slaves. My master wanted nothing but the best when we prepared his meals, so I was taught very young how to taste test everything.”

Lavellan met her gaze, “Varric told me a little of your past when he said that you were working together, but he mainly brought up the Shadow Dragons.”

“I can only imagine the spin he put on it,” she rolled her eyes a little, slicing off some butter to melt into the now hot pan, “The slave breaking free from chains to rebel against the system and bringing freedom to the Imperium.”

“Is that not the story?”

“It a version of the story. I’m just… doing what I can.”

“It’s more than most do.”

Rook turned, pouring the egg mixture with care into the pan, hands steady as she guided it to fill every part of the surface, wanting an even cook, “Do you know why I enjoy cooking? Despite my past?”

“Tell me.”

“My master hated eggs. He wasn’t allergic, but he had a distaste for them so bad that he would physically strike us if there was even an egg in the kitchen,” she said, eyes fixed on the omelette as it began to take shape, “So I decided that I would learn to cook every egg dish that I could cram into my head. I would learn them, cook them, and perfect them. And I would feed everything I cooked to the others in the household.”

“You took that risk?” she asked.

Rook grabbed some of the cream cheese mixture that Lucanis kept pre-made in the cold store, piping it delicately through the centre of the omelette, “When I was a child and was first sold to him, I knew that I couldn’t fight him. I was too young, and even if by some miracle I could kill him, I had nowhere to go. So I took solace in my little acts of rebellion. It kept me alive, gave me a reason to never truly give up on the idea of freedom… And the fact it brought joy to the others? That small act that was just for us? It gave us hope.”

She missed the smile on Lavellan’s face as she folded the egg over the cream cheese, the Inquisitor finally realising why Varric had chosen her as his second in command, just as Lavellan couldn’t see the soft look in Rook’s eyes as she told her story, finally opening up to someone.

She slid the omelette delicately onto a plate, finishing it off with some quickly chopped chives and some black pepper, placing it in front of the former Inquisitor.

Lavellan looked positively ravenous at the sight and dug in as soon as Rook handed her a fork, devouring it one messy mouthful at a time. She glanced up at Rook, tears pricking at her eyes, “This is the best thing I have ever eaten.”

Rook snorted, “Shut up, no it’s not.”

She swallowed down her mouthful, “Rook, I’m telling you, I’ve eaten at the Orlesian royal court itself, but this blows their chefs out of the water. This is so good,” she shovelled another forkful into her mouth, “Thank you.”

“Eva.”

“What?”

“My friends call me Eva.”

She smiled at her, “It’s a pleasure to meet you Eva, I’m Brenna.” She lifted her mug of tea towards her, “To small acts of rebellion.”

Eva grabbed her mug and tapped it against hers, “May they see us through.”

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

I've come to the conclusion that Ezekiel has some kind of inherent luck charm. This came to me from @angelwiththeblue-box who gave me this concept when I first saw the show and I just had to add on and it's now part of my personal canon so.

The first episode I think we see this in is And the Apple of Discord. when he gets the apple nothing actually happens to him??? and the explanation is that he's already the worst version of himself which feels like such bs?? sure, he can be annoying at times and he's a thief, but the narrative never frames this as some sort of moral failing, especially when we find out later on his steals helped a lot of people so this never made any sense to me, so luck charm (obviously this is not the moment that prompted this theory, I'm just going chronologically and this is just one piece in the overarching theory)

In And The Fables of Doom he turns into a fairy tale archetype just like everyone else, but also he kinda doesn't?? at the end of the episode when everyone describes how odd and different their experience was and Ezekiel points out he doesn't feel any different, he just says, "Yeah. Well, everybody tells me I can't do what I want, can't rely on luck, but when a magic spell turns everybody into heroes of legend, who did it turn me into? Me!" I think the story book sort of enhanced the luck to make it more obvious (hence the quarter rolling up a flight of stairs through a hallway) but I think it's clear there's something there from the start.

Less of a compelling fact, but I also want to note how Ezekiel was the first one pulled into the dollhouse in And the Heart of Darkness aka the first one being pulled to safety. It's a little thing for sure, but I wanted to toss it into the ring.

In And the Curse of Cindy I always found it odd Ezekiel was the only one not affected by Cindy's love curse. Yeah, they try and explain it away with the fact that he was already in love with her, but that doesn't make sense since he didn't really remember her, he just kinda went "huh she's kinda familiar" throughout the episode before making the connection later on, and to me, luck charm feels more like an explanation.

And then we have And the Steal of a Fortune. The episode that sparked this whole thing in the first place. In an episode where every character has comically bad luck, Ezekiel is so weirdly immune to it. He's lucky and successful against Fortuna's goons and it's fascinating because even the narrative calls out how odd it is Ezekiel isn't affected-

Eve: How come it isn't affecting you!

Ezekiel, clearly guessing: I guess I broke the spell when I hacked the [slot] machine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Jake: How the hell do you hack a fight?!?

They could've left Ezekiel's explanation as good enough, but by having Jake question it, it's the narrative telling you to question it, yet it's never brought up again. Plus, it's not like they needed a character to be immune simply to win, like a minute later Eve comes up with a loophole to try doing the opposite thing and it works. I'd also like to point out that this luck of his beats out the luck of Fortuna, who is the goddess of luck. She's not just some creature of the week, she's a goddamn goddess.

I'm sure a lot of this probably wasn't intended to lead to the conclusion that Ezekiel has some sort of inherent luck charm, but it's just something I've noticed while watching the show and have incorporated into my personal canon. If you've got some other thoughts/evidence please add on, I'd love to hear them!

[silverryu25]

Would you please consider doing Day 7 Sphinx for Kustard week + "Fuck. I'm so attracted to you right now." because now I'm picturing these two exchanging riddles but all the answers are puns XD You can go however you want with it though, I'm sure you could do something amazing with the prompt!

I am very happy to oblige this little bonus request UwU

Hope you like @mystery-fic-anon >:3c

DAY 7 - Sphinx + "Fuck. I'm so attracted to you right now."

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

Sans sweated as he climbed the stairs that were way too tall for him.

He understood that the builders of these old ruins didn’t have the need of making this place friendly for his pretty smallish size but still, this was his definition of hell. He internally cursed the day he promised to be the one to check out these recently discovered ruins as part of the monster race ambassador squad. Strange things started happening all over the world, with unknown barriers that broke in multiple places at once, some full of unknown and new monsters, while others stayed still, like nothing existed there.

It was one of those places that stayed quiet that Sans took upon himself to explore. His shortcuts were perfect to get himself out of tricky and dangerous situations so he was the perfect monster for this job. Too bad he couldn’t use them to go straight to the entrance of each barrier opening since he had to visit the place at least once.

So now here he was, climbing some huge pain in his coccyx stairs and sweating buckets.

Hopefully the inside of the barrier would be less… stair filled.

As he ascended the last few stairs, his soul beat a mile a minute from the strain. He really needed a break, but the glaring heat of the afternoon sun made it unbearable to sit there for any length of time. So instead he decided to go into the entrance the barrier had freed and take a break in the inviting looking shade.

Unfortunately for him, the moment he stepped a few feet into the darkness something jumped him and knocked him back.

His skull hit the ground and the world spun in front of him.

He groaned and squinted his eyelights, trying to figure out if he could catch the plate number of the truck that hit him. Instead, what he saw made him think he actually fainted and was dreaming.

Looming over him was a monster, one that marginally resembled some old statues that he saw in an old civilization documentary.

The monster had four legs, though its front ones looked prehensile like they could function as hands. The bones vaguely reminded him of a big cat’s bones, a tiger or a lion, maybe? But the face that stared down at him was really similar to his own… except for its crimson eyelights and the very sharp looking teeth, one of which glinted a menacing gold.

A sphinx.

That’s what the monster reminded Sans of. An old mythical monster from old Egypt he heard about. But the ones he knew off were supposed to be fleshy, not look like a pile of hot bones like the one glaring down at him.

Sans tried to move to get the big monster off of him, but the sphinx only growled and pressed down a little more with its very very sharp claws.

With a gulp, Sans decided to try and talk his way out of this.

“uh, hey buddy?” Could this sphinx understand him? Would it bother replying or would it just eat him then and there.

He tried to remember any legends about sphinxes he knew, but his brain wasn’t cooperating. The climb, the heat, the hit to the back of his skull and the large monster pinning him down weren’t making it easy to think. Was it something about…… riddles?

“wha’ runs but n’ver walks, ‘as a bed but n’ver sleeps, an’ ‘as a mouth but n’ver speaks?” The deep guttural masculine voice of the monster above him made Sans flinch in surprise.

“uhhhh?” He just blinked up at the creature completely baffled.

Moments passed in silence when the sphinx snarled at him, teeth parting menacingly. “ya bett’r answ’r if ya don’ wanna be my lunch.”

“wait, what-?” Sans tried to stall for time while his non-existent brain caught up with the situation, only to be cut off with an even fiercer growl and drool dripping from the large parted teeth.

“okay, okay.” His brain ran a mile a minute trying to remember what the sphinx said. “runs but doesn’t walk, bed doesn’t sleep and… uhhh… mouth no speaking. right?” 

With every word he let out the sphinx’s teeth came closer and closer, his growl making Sans’ ribs vibrate from its strength.

“a river!” He blurted out, the descent of the teeth and the growl pausing. “it’s quite the stream of consciousness:”

The sphinx's head shot back, sockets wide and teeth parted in an almost comical look of surprise. It would have been comical if it weren’t for the very shiny sharp teeth Sans couldn’t seem to stop staring at.

With a tilt of his head that would look cute on a less dangerous monster, the sphinx almost sing-songed the next riddle.

“wha’ com’s once in a min’te, twice in a mom’nt, but n’ver in a thous’nd years?”

Sans took a breath, thankful beyond belief for Papyrus’ short hyperfixation on riddles. This one was one of those he knew well.

“the letter m.” Sans spoke confidently as the sphinx continued to look at him expectantly. “... what? it’s a pretty timeless joke.”

Sans wasn’t sure if he saw right, but the sphinx’s crimson eyelights seemed to sparkle.

“da more ya play wit’ me, the ‘arder i get. wha’ am Ii?” Sans wasn’t sure but it almost looked like the sphinx was smirking at him.

“... a puzzle—always keeping your brain stimulated.” Just as the last word left his mouth, the sphinx sprang forward and Sans tensed. He was sure it would bite his neckbone in half.

Seconds passed and no pain shot through him. He gathered his guts and cracked a socket open, only to see the sphinx nuzzling his head into his sternum and under his chin. He stared in bafflement, what was-

“fuck. ‘m so attract’d to ya right now.”

Welp, seems Sans was in deeper trouble then he could have dreams off.

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

Did Sans just pun his way into Red's heart? Why yes, yes he did UwU

Or more specifically, Sans literally punned his way into some very hot trouble. Hopefully his skilled tongue can get him out of it before Red decides Sans is his now XD

Hope you enjoyed :D