#they arrived on Halloween! seemed appropriate

[wardenparker]

Mysterious Masquerade, part 1

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 15.5k Warnings: Food/alcohol, cursing, flirting and sexy themes. Discussions of financial situations and economic hardship that might make some readers uncomfortable, but I promise it all ends well. Summary: There is no way that you or your best friend could have known that crashing the big Martell family Halloween masquerade would change your lives forever. Notes: Sugar Daddy Oberyn was just calling my name, what can I say?

It's opulence at its best. Silken black and purple fabrics drape the walls and reflect the shimmers back from the ornate wall sconces that light the ballroom. Women and men, scantily clad and their faces are covered black lace demi masks carry trays of succulent hors d'oeuvres and crisp, bubbly champagne. The contortionist twins breathing fire from a raised platform is in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by dancing couples. The revelers are high spirited, dressed to impress despite their faces being covered, anonymity and the freedom to be whomever they wish tonight. The Martell Annual Halloween Masquerade is an undeniable success and the evening is still young.

“I can’t believe we actually got in!” You hiss, clutching your best friend’s hand as the two of you pass through the lavish ballroom. This mansion must be as old as the fabled Martell family itself, though no one quite knows how old that really is. The history has been mired in so much fable that they’re just part of the fabric of the city at this point.

When she had come to you with extravagant costumes and flimsy masks with this plan of crashing the annual Halloween party that was so legendary that the musicians were famous headliners and the food was prepared by celebrity chefs? You had balked. You had insisted that staying home and watching a slasher marathon with snacks and boozy autumnal cocktails was enough.

But she was totally right to think she could pull this off, apparently.

Oberyn watches from the balcony above, satisfied as he watches couple dance and drink. His own glass of champagne in his hand and he takes a sip. "Lover." He smiles, turning to find the dark, kohl lined eyes of his paramour watching him from behind the edges of her elaborate mask. He hated the masks himself, but it was part tradition, part relief. If he was not discovered, he could shrug off the trappings of his name and reputation for the night. Every other day he enjoys his title of the Red Viper, but for some reason tonight it doesn't seem appropriate. He hums, slowly taking in the beautiful view of her costume, the slinky fabric enhancing her lithe form. "Ellaria." He coos. "You look stunning."

“I should hope so.” She agrees, the sultry swing of her hips enhancing the movement of the shimmering dress. She’s dressed as Cleopatra, but without a single thought to any kind of accuracy. “I am stitched into the thing, thread by thread. Whomever I take to bed tonight had better have a seam ripper.”

He chuckles. “I’m surprised you haven’t already picked them out.” He teases. “There are so many choices.”

"Everyone I have danced with so far has been boring," she frowns dramatically. "But it is early." Ellaria enjoys the process of choosing less than Oberyn does. Once she finds someone that captures her attention, she likes to then explore that one, single option. Oberyn vastly prefers the game of cat and mouse with his temporary lovers.

"I am sure someone will catch your pretty eyes." He reaches up and pinches her chin playfully. "The party is a success." He hums, looking back around the room and spying a new set of attendees arriving.

“It always is.” She never doubts his ability to make sure those around him enjoy themselves, but Ellaria leans in to kiss him and lovingly tugs at the waist of his costume to nudge him along. “Go and mingle, lover. Bask in your guests’ enjoyment. Find a girl or boy to take upstairs.” She winks, and plants one last kiss on his lips. “Or both.”

He smirks and knows that he will find someone. He always does. "Have fun." He winks at her and pushes away from the balcony, interested to see the new arrivals. Even though they are masked, he doesn't believe he knows them.

“This champagne probably cost more than my entire outfit,” you murmur, sipping the glass as the two of you wade through the crowd. There is food everywhere and a huge band on stage, and a rumor that some big international singer would be here tonight. If you listened to the radio more you would probably have recognized the name.

Oberyn moves through the crowd, his eyes on the pair of ladies as they sip champagne and gawk at the surroundings. Obviously not used to the parties that are thrown here. It amuses him, all the security he has and he has been the one to find a pair of party crashers.

“This is the fanciest party I’ve ever seen.” Your friend breathes, eyes wide as she beholds the absolute pinnacle of luxury: an entire table full of multiple levels of charcuterie. “If I die tonight, make sure we have one of these at my funeral.”

“Same.” You swear solemnly, squeezing her head before you bust out in giggles.

"It is better to eat it than stare at it." Oberyn leans over one lady's shoulder and murmurs his comment. "Although it is almost as delectable as you two this evening."

Your flapper dresses jingle and swing when you both startle, turning inwardly to face the man who has come up between you. Dressed in a gleaming white and gold Roman soldier costume, he looks absolutely resplendent. It’s all you can do to swallow instead of stare, but your best friend answers. “Sometimes you just have to appreciate a thing of beauty.”

"I appreciate beauty in all forms," Oberyn agrees, taking your hand and clasping in his, "and yet I find myself captivated." You are beautiful, even with half of your face covered and he knows he has never met you before.

"You have excellent taste." Your friend blows you a kiss and sashays away, leaving you breathless and frozen with your hand held in this handsome new acquaintance's. You'll kick her ass for abandoning you later, right now you're trying to remember how to do anything but stare. He's handsome and broad, with sharp angles to his jaw and thick biceps shown off nicely by the tunic he's wearing.

"I have always believe that to be true." He has no problems with his own sense of self-esteem, men and women fall at his feet when they meet him. This however, is a challenge because it is obvious that you do not recognize him.

"Always?" His voice sounds vaguely familiar but you can't place it -- then again, why would you recognize the voice of anyone here? It isn't as though you run in the kind of circles that would have gotten you invited to this party. You did have to crash, after all. "Then you must have some very interesting choices to make."

He hums and turns you towards the table. "Life is full of choices." He muses. "It is all in what whets your appetite at the time." He pics up a prosciutto wrapped melon slice. Holding it up to your lips as an offering.

Is this how rich people flirt? The thought flits across your mind just only a millisecond before you open your mouth, accepting the bite out of curiosity as much as obedience. Feeding people can be a love language. It certainly is for your family, so you're no stranger to being offered things to try. "Sometimes you have to try more than one thing to find precisely where your tastes lie," you reply politely, when the cured ham is delicious but the melon not quite to your taste.

He chuckles, guaging that it wasn't your favorite and he decides that something sweeter is more in line with your tastes. "Absolutely" He agrees, picking up a chocolate ganache and cream puff pastry and offers it to you. "Tasting everything you can is one of the few true pleasures in life."

"Something tells me you've sampled everything you possibly can." It isn't a judgement, but this time when you open your mouth you feel just a touch more playful about it. Is it a little weird? Sure. But between this guy's physique and his accent, you don't need to see his whole face to know he's easily the hottest guy you've ever flirted with.

The cream puff is creamy and sweet but the dark chocolate is just a touch bitter, which is nice but still not quite hitting the mark for you. "What is your favorite thing here? Don't try to guess mine."

That is easy for him. Picking up a fig and rosemary cracker, he selects a slice of creamy bree and tops it with a plump blackberry before picking up the little honey comb wand from a small pot of honey to drizzle over the top of it all. When the bite is assembled, he turns to hand it to you. "Take a sip of your champagne after the bite." He instructs.

This is more like it. The bite is towering, imposing, and mouthwatering, and when requires commitment rather than a dainty or demure nibble. You go in without hesitation, moaning happily as each individual flavor bursts on your tongue and then melds together into something brilliantly harmonious. The champagne finish is like a crescendo -- the last unexpected peak of the roller coaster ride that you weren't quite expecting. By the time you finish it, you're giggling. "That's amazing," you commend, dabbing a touch of loose honey away from the corner of your mouth.

"It is." He smiles, enjoying your enjoyment of the bite he had made. He takes a sip of his own glass and hums. "Fresh and sweet, with a hint of savory."

"Complex." You commend, wondering if that is also his taste in partners. "Depth is important."

"What would be your choice?" He asks, curious to see what you view as the perfect bite.

A self-proclaim charcuterie enthusiast, you apply yourself to the table with aplomb, and compose a bite using a crusty round of puff pastry, a triangle of sharp and salty gruyere, sweet unctuous apricot jam, and a shard of crispy serrano pepper to top it all off. This is offered to him with absolute confidence, knowing that you have converted a hell of a lot of your friends to understanding the value in good ingredients with this very bite. "Try this."

He tilts his head at the offering, but he takes it with a small smirk. "I have to admit, I am charmingly surprised by the pepper." He says before he pops the bite into his mouth and chews cautiously, tasting the flavors as they burst on his tongue.

"Heat is an underrated aspect of many different things in life," you assert, watching his eyes flutter shut to enjoy the full experience. That's enough to let you know you've convinced him.

“Heat is just another word for passion.” He agrees after swallowing. “It is good that I enjoy it.”

"I had a feeling you might." He gives off that aura, anyway. Even if this is just a character he's put on for tonight, he's wearing it very well.

Oberyn asks your name. “I don’t believe I have seen you around before.” He coos. “I would have remembered a woman as passionate as you.”

"Daisy," you tell him, pulling the first flapper name you can possibly think of out of your mind, grateful you can remember the name of the love interest in The Great Gatsby off the top of your head.

He knows immediately that it is not your real name, but he appreciates the game you are starting. “Marcus Acacius.” He introduces himself, bowing slightly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Daisy.”

“Ought I to call you ‘General’?” Appreciative that he is willing to play the game, you offer him a curtsy in turn.

“Only in bed.” He chuckles.

"Noted," you agree, laughing along with him.

Your glass is nearly empty, so the next time a man wearing nothing more than a g-string and a mask walks around with a tray of glasses, he snags a fresh one for you. His eyes watching the man’s ass as he walks off before smirking at you. “The servers are all…stimulating, are they not?”

"They are a beautiful part of the decor." It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he likes the view, so you aren't going to point out that it's more than a little exhibitionist. For you, putting someone so utterly on display is hit or miss. But you've convinced yourself that they're all okay with it to make yourself more comfortable.

“Do you not like them?” He tilts his head, curiously by the slight pause in your answer. It’s no secret that his parties - while infamous - have never been photographed. People speculate and those invited never tell.

"Oh, it's not that I don't appreciate the beauty of a bare body," you rush to explain. Have you hit a nerve? Did he help design the party or something? "I guess I just...enjoy the reveal. Taking a lover to bed and getting to see their body bared for me bit by bit? It's the appetizer to the feast that will last all night."

“I see.” He can appreciate your honesty. “And you like to feast? Choosing a lover and hoping they do not disappoint you?” He smirks. “You would not like to have line of naked men line up, cocks hard while you choose which one you wish to ride?”

Alright, so it's not like you've never watched that kind of porn, but you take a sip from your fresh glass of champagne and shrug. "I can't say that I've ever had the chance. So I don't know."

“I am sure you would just need to ask.” He turns back to the table to pick up a few grapes. “A gorgeous woman like you would have her pick. Unless you prefer the touch of a woman?”

"You seem to be very talented at asking questions specifically on things I've never tried," you admit. In an uncharacteristically bold move, you take the grape directly from his fingers when he offers it. The offers at the charcuterie table seem to have given you a bit of extra confidence. "But what about you? Do you enjoy every offer you get? That would be both unusual and commendable."

“There have been some offers that I have declined.” Oberyn admits easily. “But I think that is normal for everyone, no?”

“I think so.” You both sip your drinks, letting the moment settle around you, and give your attention to the stage when the music changes. A new singer has been introduced and the crowd is clapping wildly around you.

Oberyn watches as the famous performer walks up onto the stage. Her appearance here was a personal favor to him, although he had insisted on paying her. He would never have it said that he took advantage. “Have you watched her perform live before?” He asks, watching you frown in confusion as you try to figure out who she is.

“I…don’t get out much,” you admit, by way of saying ‘no’. Work-life balance has long been negated by the sheer desire to keep a roof over your head and food in the refrigerator, so you haven’t been to a live anything in years.

He hums and gestures towards the stage. “Then you should enjoy this.” He takes a sip of his champagne and sets it down. “Shall we get closer?”

His formality doesn’t make him any less of an intriguing or welcoming presence, and when he sets his glass down and offers you his arm, you can’t resist. It might be the first time ever that a man has offered you his arm like a gentleman.

Oberyn knows the best place to watch and he guides you towards it. “So Daisy, have you attended many of the Red Viper’s parties?” He asks. “Or is this your first time?”

“Oh, this is definitely a first.” The place he brings you to is to the side of the stage directly at the front, and the singer is both obviously talented and obviously committed to putting on a show. While a lot of people are still dancing, at least half the party has stopped to watch. “You?”

“Practically every one.” He replies without irony. It’s actually more of a challenge of you don’t recognize him.

“I can’t imagine missing this if you could help it.” The opulence and beauty of what you’ve seen so far are beautiful. If you could, you would certainly be here all the damn time.

Another tray of champagne is brought around and Oberyn looks over at your half-drunk glass. “Do you want another, or are you content for the moment?”

“I’m okay right now.” The last thing you want to do is drink too much and get sloppy or embarrass yourself. The risk of getting discovered as a party crasher is high enough as it is. “But don’t let be stop you.”

“I actually prefer to drink wine over champagne.” He admits, motioning the server over. “Please bring a bottle of the Dornish red and two glasses.” He instructs.

The waiter obeys him instantly and you watch with barely disguised surprise. The authority in his voice just is that commanding, and your mind flits momentarily back to the half-joke that he should only be called general in bed.

“You must try it.” He insists. “Even if you don’t have much. The Dornish red is perhaps the best vintage of wine you will ever have.”

“It’s always on everyone’s lists of best wine in the world.” The lists you read while you buy your cheap yet delicious bottle of Chilean red. “I’ve…I admit, I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Then you are in for a treat.” He murmurs. “You know the Martell estate produces the wine, no?” He loves to talk about his family, but he’s careful to frame it has interesting facts. “It’s been made here for over four hundred years.”

"It's supposed to be wonderful." You do know that much, even if you've never had the opportunity to try it. "Do you..." About to ask him if he works on the vineyard judging from the pride in his voice, you decide to pivot. Not knowing is more fun. "Do you find it a favorite?"

“It is.” He doesn’t tell you that he’s been drinking this wine since he was a child, knowing that would make things too obvious. The intrigue about you is tickling his curiosity. “What is yours?”

"It's low brow compared to Dornish red." Where most people are truly giving their undivided attention to the singer, you've continued your conversation. The idea that he finds you just as interesting as a pop star is flattering to say the least. "There is a Chilean label called Casillero del Diablo that I love." Feeling self conscious, you shrug your shoulders and laugh. "It tastes fancy without breaking the bank. That's good enough for me."

“Casillero is a good wine.” He nods, finding it amusing that you would be self conscious because what a wine costs. “I have had many a bottle myself. It is especially good with an exceptional paella.”

"I'll have to give that a try." Not that you've ever tried to make paella in your entire life, but Casillero has made your meat sauce taste the best it's ever been.

The server that was sent for the Roman General's bottle has returned, and approaches the two of you through a crowd with his gleaming tray carrying a bottle with two glasses. He offers your companion a flirtatious smile and you a wink, making you wonder if everyone at this party is just here to flirt with everyone else.

“Good man.” Oberyn praises, approving of the bottle already being opened and allowed to breathe. Scooping up one of the glasses, Oberyn pours a small taster of it, giving it the requisite sniff and small taste before he pours a larger quantity in the glass and offers it to you. “Unless you would prefer to not drink after me?” He asks.

"I don't mind." It feels bold and a little sexy. Flirtatious, just like everyone else at the party. "You say it's your favorite? Then I'm sure it will be sinful."

His eyes light up, enjoying how forward you are with a coy smile. “It is delicious.” He agrees as he pours himself a glass.

The first sip bursts on your tongue with deep cherry and juicy plum tones wrapped in the smoky tones of the aging barrel. Something subtle untied it that you can’t quite place and you hum happily as the first beautiful taste warms your throat. “It’s incredible.”

“Hmmmm.” He takes his own sip. “It’s like tasting a beautiful woman for the first time.”

That is just a touch more bold than you ever would have even thought to be, and your eyes widen as you take your second sip. It takes all the effort in the world not to do a spit take out of sheer surprise, but you have a feeling that that was somehow the point of the comment.

He smirks when he sees your eyes widen behind the mask and he wants to ask your opinion on that, but he doesn’t. Instead he just watches you with a growing hunger, aware that despite Ellaria normally picking her lover first, he had found who he wishes to take to bed.

Aside from being delicious, the wine is fairly strong, and you slowly sip your glass while the singer performs on stage. She's wonderful, of course, and after a few songs you have never heard before there is finally one you recognize your best friend playing – which makes your eyes scan the crowd wondering if you can find her. Wherever she is in the room, she must be geeking out.

******

“You are so sweet.” Ellaria coos, stroking her finger down the young woman’s face. “Would you like to meet her after she is done singing?”

Lizzy's eyes widen the same way yours did over the comment from Oberyn about the wine, though neither of you know the irony in your reactions being identical and at nearly the same time. "You could—could do that?" She asks, wondering who this woman is who had swept her up in a dance only a few moments ago.

“Of course I could.” She smirks and winks at her playfully. “She is a close friend of mine.” She admits and reaches for another glass of champagne to drink.

"Who are you?" Lizzy breathes in wonder, staring at the gorgeous woman who came into her orbit like a whirlwind and continues to swirl and shine.

Her laughter is soft, yet powerful. A woman who is truly comfortable in her own skin and the power she wields. “Tonight, call me your fairy godmother, darling.” She teases, leaning in and kissing her lips softly. “Watch the performance. I am sure Trinity would love to hear feedback.”

"What feedback could I possibly give?" The absolute wonder on her face is enough, and both women are grinning for entirely separate reasons as they turn back to the stage.

******

“You seem like you are looking for someone?” He would be terribly disappointed if you were meeting someone here. Although he’s not opposed to threesomes.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude." You also didn't mean to be obvious about looking, but you've clearly failed in that. "My best friend. We came together and got separated, that's all. I'm sure she's fine."

“It is no problem.” He assures you, relaxing slightly. A friend. “Would you like to find her? Or……” he shrugs slightly, leaving it up to your interpretation.

"I'm sure she's fine," you repeat, mostly to reassure yourself. Lizzy is far better in unknown social situations than you are. After all, she's the one who talked you past the security guards. Taking another sweep of the crowd, you finally look up and spot her glossy red hair and striking black flapper dress in the balcony. Against the railing. Balustrade? Whatever you call it when it's in the ballroom of a house. "Oh," you breathe, relieved. "There she is. I just...didn't want her to miss this. She loves this singer."

Oberyn follows your gaze and smirks when he sees a very familiar figure next to her. “It seems as if she has found some company for the performance.”

"I'm not surprised." Or even taken a little bit aback by how fast it happened. Lizzy's always been lucky in love, no matter what the level. "Sorry again," you murmur to your own companion. "I just...we take care of each other. That's all."

“Do not apologize for looking after your friend.” He shakes his head gently. “That is admirable.”

That softens your expression in an entirely different way, and you lean slightly into your handsome companion's side. "I just didn't want you to think I wasn't interested, that's all."

“I can tell you are interested.” He tilts his head. “It is just a matter of you acting on it, I think.”

Your cheeks are on fire immediately, eyes glancing away out of sheer embarrassment. Is it really that obvious? And are you really that obvious? You ought to feel ashamed but all you can feel it the heat in your veins. "I'm...not terribly good at figuring out if that sort of thing is welcome. Which is why I hardly ever do."

“I can assure that that any move you make would be met with enthusiasm.” He chuckles softly, taking another sip of his wine. “All you have to do is ask to see the room I am staying in tonight.”

"I—" Your head tilts out of sheer surprise. "Really?"

“Why are you looking so surprised?” Oberyn sets his wine down and he light brushes his hand over your ass, hovering right over it before sliding up to your hip. “You are gorgeous and have captured my interest.” He smirks. “Party crashers do that.”

"How could you possibly—?" Your confusion only deepens, though now your side is flooded from heat with his hand.

“Know that you didn’t receive an invitation?” He winks at you from under his mask. “Some secrets are best kept just that, Daisy.” He coos. “Do you want to finish the concert, or shall I give you a private tour of the west wing of the house?”

The possibility that this man is the legendary Oberyn Martell never even crosses your mind. That would be too unbelievable. But surely he works for him. Or is a family member. Or is somehow connected to the man who owns this mansion, multiple Martell family businesses, and half the city to boot. Whoever he is? He's handsome, smells sinfully good, and is looking at you like he's going to devour you. So you straighten out your spine and decide to give yourself a fantastic story out of tonight. "How about we top off our glasses and go for a tour?"

“Atta girl.” He chuckles. “You have spirit and that is something that I will enjoy when I hear you scream again and again in pleasure.” He picks up the wine bottle and drains it between your glass and his.

"Is that a promise or a threat" You joke, suddenly wishing you were wearing a far flashier and more alluring costume.

“Both.” He chuckles darkly and leans into whisper in your ear. “I can guarantee a night you will never forget.”

"Well damn." Hiding your thudding, thundering heart behind a coy smile, you can't hide the shiver that runs down your spine. "What are we waiting for?"

He smirks victoriously and turns to offer you his arm. “Nothing, my little dove.” He promises. “We are waiting for nothing.”

The gold bracelets on his wrists are cool on the tips of your fingers as you wrap one hand around his arm, wondering what the hell you could possibly be thinking and also how fucking sexy he is. It's truly unfair. Or it would be. If you weren't the one on his arm right now. He leads you away from the stage and to the outer rim of the room, surveying things as he goes but always bringing his eyes back to you. It really gives you the impression of a prince surveying his kingdom, and purely in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together.

******

The morning light starts to peek on from the edge of the heavy velvet curtains. Making Oberyn grunt and roll over out of the spearing ray that lands on his cheek. The night had been spent in darkness, keeping the thrill of the game alive despite your bodies being stripped to the skin. Now his eyes open, landing on your face for the first time without the mask you had been wearing.

It might be the best night's sleep you've ever had. Certainly the most comfortable bed you've ever slept in, and the most luxurious sheets you've ever had wrapped around you. When he allowed for it anyway. Your general is a giving and pampering lover but also a human blanket. He had kept you tight in his arms for most of the night until eventually turning away sometime in the middle of your deep and uplifting dreams.

You are still sleeping, making him smirk as he shifts closer. Last night had been intoxicating and fun. You had been enthusiastic and vocal, willing to let him do anything he wanted to you under the cover of darkness. Now, he wants to see what you look like in the light.

The warmth and weight of him is what drags you from your dreams, making the gardens of your unconscious world drift away as you float back down into your body, only to hum from somewhere deep in your chest as you register the low rumble of him beside you.

“You are waking up, Princess?” He asks softly, curling up against you again.

“Mm.” You turn instinctively, burying yourself in the warmth of someone who is clearly just waking up as well. This isn’t one of those one-night-stands where you jump out of bed and run away afterward. This is slow and luxurious. “Morning,” you murmur, cracking your eyes open.

“Morning.” His fingers slide down the curve of your spine and he palms your ass to pull you closer for that first morning kiss that he always enjoys.

The hunger from last night is still there, though the immediacy has ebbed a little. As though he is aware this morning as having all the time in the world. You sweep your tongue through his mouth just as eagerly as he does yours, savoring the lingering intimacy. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby.” He chuckles, finding himself relaxed despite knowing that the party had continued on into the early hours of the morning. Stragglers would still be sleeping where they had passed out or adjourned to find privacy. The clean up from the night’s activities would not begin until well into the afternoon. Brunch would not even be served to those that had remained until after the noon hour had passed.

“Me too.” Without any idea what time of morning it is, all you know of the sun is high and the crisp autumn breeze coming through the windows is perfect, all of it giving him an almost ethereal presence as he leans over you in that enormous bed of his.

Without a mask you can see his golden skin more clearly, maybe a few more laugh lines than you expected but he wears them very handsomely. His extra years give him experience and speak to his love of life. Without his mask you can also see the prominent arch of his nose and the peaks of his cheekbones, all of which you instinctively wish you could trace in kisses but you don’t know if that’s allowed this morning.

“Are you too sore for another round?” He asks, arching a brow playfully. You haven’t looked surprised to find out who he is, so perhaps you had figured it out during the night. He had brought you back to his personal bedroom, but the lights had stayed off.

“Not at all.” His stamina was commendable last night so you’re not surprised to find him eager for another encounter this morning. Something tickles at the back of your mind, like he looks too familiar but you brush it off. Maybe you’ve been in the same restaurant or movie theater before? Who knows.

He hums and lowers his mouth to your neck, pressing his lips and nipping your skin playfully. “You tasted so delicious last night, I am craving another taste.”

“Miraculously, I do not have work today.” Your hands find the strong, defined muscles of his back easily, holding him to you with enthusiasm. “So I can indulge as much as you like.”

“Good.” He smirks and hovers over you again. “Then I will take my time.”

** He keeps his promises. At least when it comes to intimacy. When it comes to how many times he can make you scream for him and coaxing you into yet another tantric position you’ve never heard of but unlocks something primal and needy in you. He keeps his promises and you keep yours, leaving each other exhausted and panting as you collapse in each other’s arms all over again.

There is no wine nearby, so he reluctantly pulls away from you, climbing out of the bed and walking over to the mini fridge that is underneath the bar in the corner. Pulling out two bottles of water he turns back towards you. “Do you want to join the brunch crowd in a little bit?”

"Eating something is probably a good idea," you admit, accepting the water from him gratefully. "We've had a hell of a workout over the last...twelve hours? I have no idea what time it is."

Oberyn chuckles and twists the cap off his own drink. “It’s nearly noon.” He admits, having glanced at his phone briefly.

"Is it?" Neither embarrassed or upset about spending so much time closed up in this bedroom with him, you finally take time to look around the room in the clear light of midday. "This is...a hell of a room," you commend, taking in all the details of the space. The sumptuous fabrics and detail in the carved woods. The elaborate stained glass window tiles scattering various colors across the floor that had not been anywhere as brilliant in the moonlight. "If this is a guest room I can't even imagine what the master bedroom looks like."

He pauses when you say that, pulling his bottle down from his lips as you look around. You aren’t looking at him and he is highly amused. You’ve obviously not recognized him, slightly stinging his ego, but it makes the previous evening and this morning even more refreshing. “I am sure it would splendid.” He agrees. “If it were a guest room.”

"If it—" Opening your mouth once or twice or three times in confusion, you take another drink of water and sit up in his bed. "You're family?" The possibility had never even crossed your mind, although now you feel a little stupid for not realizing.

“Martell is my last name.” He admits with a nonchalant shrug, as if it is inconsequential to the subject at hand.

"I had no idea." Feeling all the more embarrassed, you practically sink back against the headboard. "I mean....I don't know if it's one of those local pride things like...like I ought to know. But in my defense, I only moved to this city last year."

He watches your face fall and frowns, moving towards the bed to sit down. “No, no, my sweet little dove, you are not going to be upset.” He commands, as if he could change your emotions just by wishing it. “I enjoy the discovery that you don’t know who I am.” He assures you, reaching out and touching your knee. “It means you wanted to sleep with me for a reason other than my name.”

"I told you..." Reaching for him is as easy as breathing, even if you are a little more intimidated to do it now. "I was drawn to you."

“And I was drawn to you.” He smirks, sending you a playful wink.

"Then I suppose it...doesn't matter?" It would make you pretty embarrassed to invite him over to your studio apartment, but you don't anticipate this going past today anyway.

“What do you mean?” He tilts his head curiously.

"Nothing. Never mind." Slipping from the sheets, your only option is too hunt the floor for your dress and slip back into the same clothes you were wearing last night. "I should text my friend. Let her know I won't be home until after brunch." And see if Lizzy had texted you about staying out, too. She usually has more luck anyway.

He frowns at your back as you hunt up your clothes. “Let me get you something else to wear.” He offers, unashamed at his own nudity, but he senses that you might want to wear something.

If all the men in this family are like the famous Oberyn Martell, there is probably a storage closet somewhere with spare clothes for conquests to wear the morning after. Not that you care how many other people a partner has slept with – that's none of your business and doesn't really matter. You were safe last night and this morning, so a number is just a number. "I don't want to be a nuisance," you say instead, because it's the truth.

“It is no nuisance.” He insists, standing up and walking towards the door that his closet is behind. “I have some beautiful things from you to choose from.” He motions you over.

"I'll get them back to you," you promise him, before you even get over to the closet. Assuming they don't belong to some other woman, they still belong to him. And that's basic respect.

“Consider it a gift.” He waves away your concern and finds it sweet that you would want to return something like that to him. “My eldest has a flare for designing clothes.” He admits as he turns on the light to the closet. “These are some of her mock ups, not released to the public.”

"Your daughter made these?" The closet is bursting with colorful, inventive fashions that make your eye jump around from piece to piece with growing awe.

“Yes.” He smiles proudly as he looks around the smaller room. It is lined with designs that she has worked on, and even if she had not liked them, he loved them because she made them. “Her line has taken off, there is a show coming up next month.”

"And you're willing to just...give me her designs?" You turn to him with wide eyes.

He smiles and reaches out to pinch your chin gently. “You are exquisite. You will wear it well and everyone will ask you where you got it.” He predicts.

"Then you have to tell me what her fashion line is called, so I can tell everyone who asks." He lets you select a combination of skirt, blouse, and sweater that are comfortable and extremely attractive and you know you'll wear as much as humanly possible.

“Dornish Sun by Obara Sand.” Oberyn murmurs, watching you run your fingers through the silks that she had stitched.

"Is it cliche if I say that you don't look old enough to have a grown daughter?" There is no reason to be shy about dressing in front of him since he was the one who undressed you last night.

“I started very young.” He chuckles.

"It seems so." The silk handkerchief skirt settles on your waist easily and the camisole is soft on your skin, making you feel utterly luxuriated with just simple clothing. "Well, I...thank you. And thank you to your daughter as well. She's extremely gifted."

“Of course.” He smiles. “Yellow is your color.” He compliments. “You should wear it often.”

"I will." That is a promise you can make him easily. The warmth has returned to everything you're feeling, pushing awkwardness out the window, and you're pull on the soft cardigan that compliments the clothing when you hear your phone go off somewhere in the vast bedroom. "That's probably Lizzy," you tell him, moving back toward his room. "Did you...you mentioned brunch?"

“I am sure that she will be there if she stayed.” He knows she will, Ellaria will have her there. “You should assure her you are safe.”

Your purse, phone inside, had somehow ended up falling off of a side table last night and is sitting on the beautifully waxed wooden floor when you go to retrieve it. If you look a bit like a bumblebee with your yellow and black and floral outfit today, at least the black heels and black clutch you brought last night will complement it.

There are no less than a half dozen messages on your phone, but the one from this morning is, indeed, from Lizzy.

From Lizzy: You disappeared so early last night! Who did you end up going home with??

You grin typing out your reply, and try not to sound too smug in your reply.

To Lizzy: I'm still in the mansion, actually. Got invited to brunch and won't even have to do a walk of shame. Meet up afterward?

From Lizzy: The brunch!!!! I’m going to be there too. I will see you there!

While you are answering your phone, Oberyn dresses in a pair of deceptively casual linen pants and a burnt orange shirt, shoving his feet into a pair of stylish loafers and choosing the watch Ellaria had gifted him on his last birthday.

"She says she'll be at brunch, too." Looking up from your phone, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when you see how effortlessly handsome and stylish he looks in his beautifully tailored clothing.

“I assumed she would.” He smirks. “Ellaria loves to pamper her lovers after a night in her bed.”

"Ellaria...?" Letting the wheels of your mind spin at will, it takes only seconds to connect the final dots and your eyes widen all over again. "You're Oberyn Martell?"

He tilts his head in acknowledgement and smirks. “I am.” He admits, walking over and picking up his water bottle again. “But I’m more interested in learning your real name.”

You practically stammer it out, but you do tell him. It had been wrong to assume that it could not be him, apparently, despite his legendary attachment to his partner Ellaria Sand.

“Beautiful.” He smiles, thinking that your name fits you. “Now, are you a woman who brushes her teeth before brunch or after?” He asks curiously.

"After." You laugh, although the question is practical. "I can't have anything messing with the flavor of my coffee."

He chuckles and agrees. “Especially when you are following it up with a mimosa.” He jokes.

“Exactly.” You agree, accepting his arm when he offers it. “The only thing worse that toothpaste and coffee is toothpaste and orange juice.”

A horrid combination.” He curls his lip in disgust. “Come, the brunch will be starting soon.”

By the light of day, the mansion is both enormous and even more splendid than it seemed last night. Details were lost in the lights of the party that you can see very clearly now as he walks you through the halls, though you do your best not to gape. Down immense hallways and the grandest set of stairs you have ever seen before – Surely these aren't the stairs he took you up last night? You would remember. – he escorts you to an enormous dining room with ceilings higher than most churches you've been in.

The staff, the regular staff, is all dressed respectably in black trousers, a sun yellow shirt and a black vest over that. The Martell family symbol of a spear and a bursting sun is emblazoned on the left breast of the vest, with a discreet name tag on the right.

There are stations for hot food and sideboards full of cold choices all laid out everywhere, and plenty of party guests milling about in last night's costumes or this morning's borrowed clothes. Soft music plays from somewhere overhead and a few staff members move between tables pouring tea, delivering mimosas, and occasionally delivering a different drink altogether. One table in the corner is a little grander than the rest, but it pulls your eye for an entirely different reason. Sitting, sipping a Bloody Mary in contentment, is Lizzy.

“Ahhhh, there they are.” Oberyn hums, his smile widening when he sees the beautiful face of his paramour and guides you over to the table. “You look well rested this morning, my love.”

"An illusion, I assure you." Ellaria smirks, rising from her place at the table with a cup of well-doctored coffee in front of her. "Since my dear new friend ensured I got very little sleep at all last night." She moves to Oberyn's side with ease to kiss him. "I trust you did the same for her friend?"

He pulls her in for a kiss, just as passionate as the one he had given you before entering the dining room where brunch was being served. Smiling when she moans slightly and pulls away. “Of course I did.”

“Good.” She commends, the easy praise pouring from her lips. “I knew you would not let any leave your bed unsatisfied.”

“Of course not.” He purrs. “She looks ravishing, as does your playmate for the evening. Have you decided to invite her back?”

“Thursday.” Ellaria’s smile is pure satisfaction on her own part. “A pity, though. She has no interest in cock. Though I don’t suppose she would mind you watching if you like.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I will leave you two to your games. I can amuse myself, as you well know.”

“With your new playmate?” His paramour asks slyly, glancing over at where you and Lizzy are chatting excitedly at the table.

“I find myself enchanted by her:” Oberyn admits, never shy about sharing his feelings with Ellaria. Despite their openness, they have also been together for nearly fifteen years.

“Then I am very glad she stayed.” Though Oberyn enjoys his encounters, it is rare for him to be enchanted by just anyone. It is a high commendation from a man who can have anyone he chooses.

“I am too.” He watches you and your friend with Ellaria. “I am thinking of asking her for an arrangement.” He poses.

“Oh?” She is surprised at that but not unhappy. When Oberyn finds someone worthy of an arrangement it is always something that brings him joy, and Ellaria is never opposed to Oberyn’s joy.

“What do you think?” He turns to look at his lover, seeing that she is surprised, but not necessarily opposed to the idea.

“I think she is lovely and you are enchanted.” Snuggled into his side, Ellaria presses a kiss to Oberyn’s jaw and smiles. “And she looks very fine in Obara’s clothes.”

“She was in complete awe of the closet.” He muses. “She is not seeking social status, that is for certain.”

“No?” That alone is enough to pique Ellaria’s interest. After all, his status is high enough to elevate anyone simply by proximity. “How do you know?”

“She did not know who I was” Oberyn admits with an amused chuckle. “And it was no act. She was embarrassed by the fact she did not recognize me.”

“Well, well.” Ellaria chuckles, tutting in amusement. “That does make things more interesting. Her friend did recognize me, but not everyone is as mysterious as your new lover.”

He hums and pulls her close to steal another kiss. “Perhaps you will take her out to lunch?” He asks. “Tomorrow?”

“If you wish it.” Ellaria hums, glances back at you and Lizzy, and ends up smiling. “Do you wish me to sweeten her to the idea of your arrangement, or will you propose it today?”

“Sweeten her up a bit.” He winks at you when you glance over. “Beyond that, I want to know your opinion before I offer her more.”

“I will give you an honest review,” she promises, kissing him once more before straying off toward the buffet.

Oberyn watches her walk away for a moment before he turns back towards the table and smirks. Walking slowly towards you as you giggle with your friend.

“Lizzy was just saying the same thing I did when we came downstairs,” you tell him, though the honest truth is that she said it much earlier in the conversation and just now you had been gossiping about why and how you’re both so tired. “The house is even more beautiful in the sunlight.”

“I am glad you are enjoying yourself here.” Oberyn smirks and nods towards Lizzy. “I am sure that Ellaria would love to give you a private tour, if she hasn’t already.” He chuckles. “She loves to fuck in the library. Hates to read, but loves to fuck there.”

“Yes, I…um…” Lizzy clears her throat and offers him a tight, slightly nervous smile. “I have been in the library. Haven’t really seen or paid attention to much of it, but I’ve been in it.”

He hums in approval and nods. “She did say that you both enjoyed yourselves immensely.” He pulls out a chair beside you and sits down. “Have you decided if you want anything from the buffet, or something else?” He asks both of you.

“There are more than enough choices on the buffet,” you assure him. “And it all looks wonderful.”

“We were just waiting until you got here.” Lizzy admits easily. “Ellaria said brunch would last for hours so we didn’t need to hurry.”

“It does.” He agrees. “But I do think we should order our first round of drinks, don’t you?”

“She’ll say anything is fine, but she prefers tea,” Lizzy supplies, nudging your arm at the table and aiming a mischievous grin in your direction while you look mortified that she essentially just made a demand on your behalf.

“Black, green, oolong, white or pu-erh?” Oberyn asks, tilting his head in question. “Don’t tell me you are someone who only drinks hibiscus tea and thinks that’s the best?” He playfully makes a face of horror. “You will insult me.”

“No, no, really it’s—”

Lizzy huffs and pokes you. “Earl Grey with lemon and sugar,” she tells him, seemingly pleased that someone else is willing to make a fuss over you besides her.

“Earl Grey it is.” Oberyn nods. “Do you like the plain earl grey or the cream?”

“Plain, please,” you murmur, as though you’re glad that the least intrusive answer is the honest one. The scowl you shoot Lizzy is an attempt at withering, but you just don’t have that kind of emotion in you today. It’s as if last night swept away all the negativity you had — and while the anxiety remains this is still the best you’ve felt in ages.

Oberyn motions one of the staff over. “A pot of Earl Grey tea with lemon and sugar.” He orders for you. “A Bloody Mary with extra horseradish for Ellaria.” He turns towards Lizzy. “And you, darling?”

“I think I’ll switch to water after this,” Lizzy concedes, tapping the rim of the Bloody Mary she’s nearly finished. They’re quite strong and she was only after some hair of the dog. She doesn’t need to be drunk all over again.

He pouts slightly but turns back towards the man. “A bottle of sparkling water for her and I will have a peach nectar mimosa.” He decides, smirking slightly. “I still have a yearning for sweet peaches this morning.”

You clear your throat, lips pursed together despite the very pleased smile tugging at both corners of your lips, and distinctly avoid your best friend’s eyes for the moment. He had compared your cunt to a peach in every conceivable way last night, espousing its virtues endlessly, and the simple reminder has transported you right back to the image of his head between your thighs.

Oberyn chuckles softly and sends you a knowing smirk. “I think you enjoyed it too, Dove.” He murmurs, reaching under the table to stroke your thigh. “So when did you decide to crash the party?” He asks, looking at both of you with a grin.

“About a week ago,” Lizzy answers honestly, ignoring how much further you sink down into your seat. “When I found those little masquerade masks in a costume shop. I promised I’d find a party to take her to if she rented costumes with me.”

“And technically you did,” you admit, rolling your eyes at your best friend to hide the fact that you’re somewhat mortified to have been found out so easily, and end up in the host and hostess’s beds.

“It is a good thing.” He admits, shrugging nonchalantly. “There are always a few that come that are not on the guest list, it’s a compliment. It means the parties are worth attending.” He smirks. “Although next year you will have invitations.”

Lizzie’s eyebrows raise at that and she glances at you meaningfully, as though she hadn’t had as significant a night as you did.

“We will?” You ask, swallowing the surprise in your voice.

“Of course.” He lifts a brow in amusement, as if he could not believe you would think anything else. “If you come, that is up to you.”

“Of course we’ll come.” The idea that you wouldn’t is shocking and the promise comes out of your mouth extremely quickly, even if you don’t mean it to. It’s not as if you expect to sleep with him again in a year — but a girl can hope. It’s not as if you expect your own circumstances will change much by then.

“So tell me how you came to be in our fair city?” He wants to know more about you, and your friend.

“It’s…complicated,” you admit, although the tale is old as time. “But basically…Lizzy and I were roommates in college and we’ve been friends ever since. So last year when I needed a new start, I came and joined her here.”

“Heart break or financials?” Oberyn asks sagely. There are only two reasons most people need to make a fresh start and he wonders which category you fall into.

“I—” Glancing at Lizzy like a plea for help, your best friend only shrugs and picks up her Bloody Mary as if to say ‘you opened the door, now answer the question.’

“Both,” you admit sheepishly. “I would working for my fiancé’s family business. So when the engagement ended, so did the job.”

“I see.” He lifts a brow and makes a note to dig into your past, wanting to see what kind of man you were engaged to. “Then I hate to be crass, but I owe your foolish ex partner a word of thanks for giving you the freedom to land in my bed.”

“He was a fuckin’ moron.” Lizzy supplies helpfully, and grins when you huff at her. “What? He was! I know you were together forever but that doesn’t make him less of an idiot.”

“Your beautiful friend has a point.” Oberyn chuckles and greets the server when he comes back with your drinks. “The tea pot in front of this beautiful lady.” He reminds him and watches as the entire service set is transferred from the rolling cart. It is a silver and gold bone China set that was his late mother’s favorite.

“Thank you,” is repeated several times both to the server and to Oberyn, and the brewed tea is beautifully doctored just how you like it. It’s a beautiful luxury, you will admit readily, and sip the scalding tea with a blissful smile. “I’m glad it’s over, but the ending was not fun,” you tell him finally. “And…if it’s what needed to happen for us to come here last night? That is a wonderful night to make up for all the pain.”

“Perhaps.” He smirks and reaches over to steal a sugar cube from the little pot like he would as a child. His own drink is perfect and he hums in approval as everyone in the room settles into a quiet chatter.

When Ellaria returns to the table she brings two plates with her and sets one down in front of Oberyn. He takes forever to make even the smallest choices when it comes to having so many options, and while she would never interrupt his fun in the bedroom, it's been long enough that she surely knows his favorite foods. "You should go up," she tells you and Lizzy sweetly. "There is plenty to pick from."

Oberyn is vastly amused and thankful, winking at his paramour before he looks over at you. “Dove, you should go fix yourself a plate.”

Ellaria and Lizzy both look duly impressed that there is already a pet name in place, but you downplay it. Just thanking him again for the tea and getting up from the table to go get your food is enough from now. He's being very sweet to you this morning and it's far more than you expected, so you're going to savor it while it lasts.

“She must have a magical cunt.” Ellaria hums as she watches you and Lizzy scamper off to the buffet tables. “Does she –”

Oberyn shakes his head. “Honestly? I did not ask, although I am certain if she ever had any desire to, you would persuade her.” He compliments, leaning over and picking up her hand to kiss the back of it.

"I'll save the question for after tomorrow's sweetening." Ellaria decides. You seem like you could be overwhelmed by too much attention, and that would not go well for Oberyn's desires.

“Apparently she is recently off heart break and financial strife.” Oberyn discloses. “Perhaps you can question how deep that monetary problem runs?” He won’t take advantage of you by leveraging money, but he will offer you a very lucrative opportunity.

"Do you know what she does?" That is always an interesting conversation, and can be a gateway to many things. "Beside fuck like a goddess, apparently?" Ellaria grins.

“There wasn’t much small talk happening.” Oberyn admits shamelessly, his own grin accompanied by waggling eyebrows. “It is a pity your lover does not like cock, or we could see how we all enjoy each other.”

"There is no such thing as a perfect world is there?" Ellaria sighs dramatically, entirely aware that in every reasonable way, their life is perfect. It is simply a matter of who they choose to share that perfection with. That is the question at hand.

******

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Ellaria has to shout to be heard over the wind racing between you, the top down on her sporty little convertible as she zips you away from the mansion and towards what she promises to be the best shopping in the city.

The invitation had come as a surprise to you, but when Ellaria Sand had suggested you come back over to the mansion today to have lunch, you had tentatively accepted. She was very nice, after all, and interesting -- and the longtime lover of the man that you were struggling to stop thinking about. It made the sound of lunch so civil, and you told yourself that you would not try to peak for Oberyn around the mansion where they both lived.

But as soon as you had arrived she had scooped you up in her car and said that lunch al fresco and shopping sounded divine to her, and you hadn't had the heart to tell her that there was no way in hell that you would be able to shop with her. You had just been quietly glad that you wore your nicest dress today and gotten into the car like she suggested.

"Sunny and beautiful," you agree, wondering where you could possibly be heading.

“I find on days like this, I want to be outside.” She continues on. “Don’t you? What do you do for work?” The question is blunt and automatic, immediately starting in on Oberyn’s request to sweeten you up.

“Oh, um…nothing special. Just…the usual sort of thing.” It’s embarrassing to admit to someone as effortlessly elegant and carefree as Ellaria that you work yourself numb at a coffeeshop every morning and a pizza place every night. Taking shifts off to crash the masquerade and — you thought — sleep off the hangover had been something you worked hard to manage. The afternoons are normally your only free time, and today you’re spending that time with her.

“What is the usual sort of thing?” Her hair is wrapped in a stylish Hermès scarf and her Armani sunglasses are the latest collection. She had dressed specifically to show you what can be yours.

“I work in kitchens,” you answer diplomatically, even though you hate it. Being good at it doesn’t mean it’s what you want to do with your life. You have a hard-earned degree that is sitting and calcifying while you try and fail to find work in your preferred field. When you see her tilt her head out of the corner of your eye, you shrug your shoulders. “I’m a barista and I work at a pizza place,” you clarify finally, deciding to be transparent.

“No wonder you have such lovely taste in tea!” She reaches over and touches your knee gently before taking a firm hold on the wheel. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Not really.” You can admit that even if it doesn’t feel utterly fantastic to do so. “But I’m grateful to have the work.”

“What would you rather do?” She asks. “Dream job or your goal in life?” She smiles over at you. “Mine was to raise my children myself, so don’t discount a homemaker if that’s your dream.”

“I’d like a family at some point.” That’s definitely somewhere in the dreamscape of your fantasy future, though you really don’t know about any of it happening any more. “To be honest?” Glancing over as she drives, you aren’t too surprised to see her pull into an area of underground parking beneath a large and expensive looking shopping mall. You’ve actually been to this one before — you brought a book to the cafe here once to buy an overpriced pot of tea and read in the conservatory-like atmosphere. “I really don’t know. I suppose…I like books quite a lot. But being a librarian takes quite a lot of schooling.”

“It does?” She’s completely unaware of that. “I couldn’t imagine why. I have never been good at reading.” She admits with a laugh. “It bores me. Although Oberyn adores reading. His library is magnificent. At least for fucking in.” She throws you a wink as she parks and shuts off the engine.

“I heard.” The grin you shoot her is honest and amused. Lizzy is beside herself with attraction but trying to be practical about it. “We’re eating here?” You ask, genuinely interested in what sort of bistros or lovely restaurants this building might have.

“Oh, I didn’t even ask,” she huffs, annoyed at herself. “Do you like Indian and sushi?” She cocks her head to the side. “There is this wonderful fusion restaurant on the rooftop. They also make wonderful cocktails.”

“Indian and sushi fusion?” Such an idea had never occurred to you in your entire life, but since they’re two of your favorite foods? Why not. “Sounds incredible. Let’s do it.”

“Oh you will love it.” She promises. “They make these Tikka masala salmon rolls that are to die for.” She rolls her eyes and hooks her arm through yours. “Eat and then shop or shop and then eat?”

"Why don't we eat and then shop?" You suggest, knowing that at some point you will have to bow out and take the city bus back home for work tonight. It would be nice to share a meal beforehand.

“That sounds completely fair.” She knows where you are going and immediately guides you towards the elevators to take you up from the garage level. “We will get to know each other and perhaps get drunk while we do it.”

"Maybe." It seems rude to point out that you're going to work after this so that won't be a possibility, so you simply shrug one shoulder and allow the question to hang in the air. As if you didn't envy the freedom she has so much more than just a little.

She hums, far more observant than she would appear and once the doors open to let you inside the car, she drags you in and presses the button for the rooftop. “Oh damn. You didn’t bring sunglasses.” She huffs and quickly presses the button for the third level. “Quick stop before lunch.”

"I don't need sunglasses, Ellaria. Really, I promise." She's laughing, though, and so radiant that you bite your lip and swallow the protest, starting to do the math in your head for if you can even afford to look at sunglasses in one of these fancy stores.

Once the elevator stops on the desired floors she whisks you away and down the marbled floors towards the stores. “Armani or Louis Vuitton?” She asks, turning and staring at your face for a second in contemplation.

"I—" You feel like melting into the floor, but she is whisking you down the hallway and apparently not stopping for anything so you swallow what would otherwise be a whimper of worry and decide your credit card is going to have to come out today. "Armani," you decide, knowing the prices there will be considerably lower than anything Louis Vuitton would ever carry.

“Fantastic!” Her eyes light up and she steers you towards the store. “We will find the perfect pair.” She hums and smirks. “The sunglasses and a bikini will be the perfect outfit for an evening around the water gardens.”

"Ellaria." That makes you pause, and you put one hand on her arm gently. "I do have to work tonight."

“No.” She frowns, a small pout on her face and she shakes her head. “That’s not fun. You deserve more than just one evening off to recover from the masquerade.”

“Well…no. It isn’t fun.” That is certainly not the reaction you expected from her, although you’re not entirely sure what reaction you did expect. “But…that’s why they call it work, right?”

She huffs and lifts a brow. “How much do you make an hour?” She demands, even if she knows it’s rude.

You huff, feeling deeply put on the spot, and try to remember that your best friend is half in love with this woman so maybe you should just grit your teeth on manners. “Not much,” you tell her, and when she raises an eyebrow you look down at the floor. “Both of my jobs pay minimum wage. That’s why I need two.” At least the tips are good, you remind yourself. At least the tips are good.

“I will give you one thousand dollars to be my assistant for the afternoon.” She decides, immediately opening her purse and pulling out her wallet. “Will that cover the lost wages?”

“Ellaria…” To a passerby, or even to yourself just days ago, it might seem callous. Flippant. But one of the things you do know for certain about Ellaria Sand is that she is not a careless person. The small and large acts of kindness and caretaking you had seen from her in the small time you had known her reinforce that knowledge. She isn’t careless, she’s just a deeply blunt person.

“Is that not enough?” She glances up at you with a look of concern on her face. She could have sworn it would cover it, but perhaps you have extremely good tips.

“It’s like three weeks’ pay, that isn’t the point.” The Milk of Human Kindness, that was the phrase. Ellaria is tough. Strong. But made with the milk of human kindness. “I need to keep my job. I can’t just call out whenever I feel like it.”

“Hand me your phone.” Ellaria demands, holding her hand out.

“Why?” But even as you ask it, that part of your mind that is conditioned to please others by doing what your told has you reaching for your cell phone in your pocket.

You’ve opened it for her, so Ellaria taps your contacts and finds that you are a very organized kind of girl. Another reason why Oberyn must adore you and why the idea that has come to mind is such a good one. She clicks on a number and holds the phone up to hear ear, motioning for you give her one seconds.

“I’d like to speak to the manager please.” She murmurs politely when the call connects. As she’s waiting, she smiles at you reassuringly.

“Thank you for calling Main Street Pizza, this is Greg.” The tired, heavily accented voice of a sixty-year-old lifelong smoker who has audibly given up on life comes over the line. “You wanted to talk to the manager?”

“Yes, this Ellaria Sand.” She introduces herself as she watches you shift in front of her. “I have one of your employees standing in front of me right now.” She says your name and waits for him to acknowledge that fact.

“Yeah?” The man drawls, snapping on his gum. “Listen lady, I’m sorry if she said something to piss you off but unless she’s on the clock? She’s not my problem.”

She snorts at his answer, shaking her head and hating that you have ever worked for such a dick. “Oh no darling, you are very much mistaken.” She chuckles. “I’m calling to inform you that she will not be in tonight.” She pauses for a moment. “Or ever again. Consider this her notice.”

“Ellaria!” Your hiccuped shriek of fear and dismay covers whatever your boss blusters on the other end of the call, but she only smiles at you and fends you off as you try to take your phone back.

“How do you sleep at night?” She continues on. “Paying your employee wages that make them have two, sometimes three jobs to just be able to survive.” She hisses. “You should be ashamed of yourself, even though I know you won’t be. But you will no longer be taking advantage of her!” With that, she pulls the phone away from her ear and ends the call.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?!” As soon as she hands you back your phone you’re fumbling, hands shaking as you blindly try to punch the necessary buttons to call the pizza place back and beg your awful boss to take you back. “I need to survive, Ellaria!”

“Don’t you dare call that place back.” She chides softly, reaching out and taking your hands in hers. “You will not be destitute.” She swears.

“How?” Fear and desperation rises so high in your throat you feel sick. “Money doesn’t fall out of trees, I know you know how hard it is to make it on your own. And this isn’t just about me! Lizzy and I live together. If I can’t pay my half of the rent, we both end up evicted.”

She feels bad, truly, when she sees how desperate you are. “Shhhhhush.” She coos softly, letting go of your hands and cradling your jaw in both her hands. “I have already thought of the perfect replacement for your terrible jobs.” She promises. “And if you do not wish to take it, I will personally pay your bills until you find something you want.”

“My finances are not your responsibility.” Accountability has been drilled into your head for your entire life, and now it comes screaming to the surface even in the face of her reassurance. “I’m not qualified for anything. My job experience is all retail and food service. Getting a job is impossible even for the well-educated. I appreciate your standing up for my worth but the reality is that no employer is going to pay that well.”

She sighs softly. “Oberyn has been toying with the idea of having a curator for his collections.” She murmurs softly. “He has so many duplicate books, so many different libraries. He wants to condense them. He’s mentioned it many times. He will give you the job.” Her lover has no problem helping others with their dreams and goals. He is very generous and it seems as if she is battering down the gates of your life rather than sweetening you to the prospect of what he can offer you. “I have made a mess of all this.” She huffs. “I was supposed to show you what could be yours rather than bully you into changing your life.”

“I’m not…entirely sure that I understand?” In fact you feel like you’re reeling, and that is not at all a helpful thing when you’re trying to process everything Ellaria is telling you. “Oberyn…wants to hire me? To be his personal curator?” You pinch your eyes shut and open them again but it doesn’t help to clear your mind. “He didn’t even know that…that I love libraries or that I studied history?”

“No.” She shakes her head and sighs, looking around before she pulls you closer. “Let’s buy your sunglasses and I promise I will explain while we have a very stiff drink, okay love?”

“Well…” you’re shrug your shoulders helplessly. “I don’t have to work anymore, so I guess a drink is okay.”

“Don’t be too mad at me, I promise you will be perfect. Hopefully even wonderful.” She promises, although she feels so guilty right now.

“I’m not mad.” The realization washes over you and you swallow, holding back a thick coating of emotion. “I’m…scared. And I know we barely know each other so this whole outing has been oversharing anyway.”

“We might not know each other well, but we will.” Of that, she is absolutely certain. “Come, we will pick out a pair of sunglasses and then we will work everything out.” She takes your hand again and starts to steer you towards the Armani store.

It seems pointless to ask how she is so certain. Ellaria appears to be certainly of everything. Instead you just allow yourself to be tugged along, worried and scared and anxious that whatever this remarkable, chaotic woman has to say to you will shake your fragile life even further.

In the store, Ellaria has you try on a dozen pair of sunglasses, not letting you look at the tags before she nods. “Those are the ones.” She decides. “How do you like them?”

They’re classic Armani tortoise shell glasses that complement the shape of your face no matter who you are, and honestly you’d be silly not to love them. “They’re beautiful,” you admit, a little too softly. “But Ellaria…” But you just quit my job for me.

“Don’t.” She holds up a finger and then gently pulls them off your face. “My treat.” She insists before she whirls around and hands them to the associate. “Please get the box for these. She will be wearing them out, of course.”

The associate nods and walks away to comply, not seeing the ways your brows furrow. The feeling in your chest is an odd mixture of shame, guilt, and an unexpected appreciation for the woman currently offering you a slice of something beautiful and lasting for no other reason than kindness. Ellaria — and Oberyn, for that matter — owe you nothing. But that does not stop them from giving, apparently.

“Thank you,” you offer finally, unsure what else to say.

“You have nothing to thank me for.” She huffs. “I have made your anxiety go through the roof.”

“My anxiety is always through the roof.” You laugh it off because she’s right. “That doesn’t make you less nice.”

She snorts and shakes her head, "you are too precious." She murmurs and pulls out her credit card to pay for the glasses.

“So why exactly are sunglasses so mandatory for this restaurant?” You ask, trying not to fidget in place at the cash stand. “Just because it’s on the roof?”

"Absolutely." She smiles and turns towards you as the clerk runs the card.

“That seems a little dramatic.” Still, you smile affectionately. “But then? So is Oberyn. So I shouldn’t be surprised you are, too.”

"I have spent so much time with my lover that I am sure that our characteristics have merged." She laughs. "But I was honestly thinking about how good you will look wearing these and a small bikini we are going to buy you after lunch."

“You mentioned that before.” Walking out of the store together, you laugh again and shake your head a little. “Determined to have me out by that pool at some point? Or is that what Oberyn wanted you to butter me up for?”

She hums in amusement. "No, I don't think that you would believe me if I told you right now." She admits softly.

“One very strong cocktail, right?” Trying to be encouraging, you wave your hand toward the escalator inside the mall and smile. “Let’s go.”

Ellaria takes the bag that has the luxurious box and carrying case for the glasses. "Very strong." She laughs as she swings the bag and loops her arm through yours.

Three floors up, the roof of the luxury shopping center has a smattering of cafes and restaurants, but Ellaria leads you toward one accented with bold patterned tablecloths and oversized gold-upholstered armchairs. Soft music plays inside, and it becomes apparent as soon as the hostess starts leading you inside that the music being piped up to the front of the restaurant to greet diners is actually coming from the live performer out in the dining area.

The skylight is nothing but glass above you, hence why Ellaria had bought you the sunglasses. The hostess brings you over to a beautiful table that is one to very obviously meant to be seen at. “Perfect.” She smiles as the two of you are seated.

"I'll give you ladies some time with the drink menu," the hostess says, before striding away to return to her stand.

It's a stunning place, really. The bright afternoon sun is high overhead and the live music is entrancing. A few people murmur as they recognize Ellaria but she seems entirely unbothered by it. She has been a part of the local gossip in this city so long that it hardly seems to matter to her in the least. Which, you have to admit, is admirable as much as it is enviable.

“So, shall we have a chai martini?” She asks as she looks over the menu. “I know they are excellent.”

"Sounds great," you agree, happy to follow her lead. The fact that it does actually sound good helps immensely.

“You will not regret it.” The second the menu is set down, the waiter is at Ellaria’s elbow. “Two chai martini’s, please and in five minutes have another two brought to the table.” She requests with a smile.

Making a face as if to tell her it’s an admirable pace, you end up laughing as the two of you look over entrees together. You decide on sharing a few sushi rolls of varying degrees of fusion, and by the time the waiter returns Ellaria thanks him and puts in your lunch order easily.

“So.” She holds her martini glass up to yours and clinks it with a small tap. “To new and blossoming friendships.”

“I will absolutely drink to that.” If nothing else, you had agreed to this lunch for Lizzy, but it seems like things are already on their way to becoming far more entangled and interesting than simply a lunch with your best friend’s lover.

Ellaria takes a very long sip of her martini and sighs happily when she is pulling away from the glass. “Now….” She sets the glass down and settles back into her chair. She feels a little more calm now. “We can talk about things.”

“Yes, please.” The drink is delicious, but you can’t deny the burning curiosity. What could she possibly be wanting to talk to you about that required a drink and such an elaborate outing? If Oberyn didn’t want to see you anymore he could simply have said so and that would have been that. You would have been bitterly disappointed, of course, but you’re a big girl. Hearts mend.

“Oberyn wanted me to bring you out today.” She admits shamelessly. “To treat you, sweeten you up for him.” Her hands spread and she shrugs slightly. “But I have been a little too aggressive.”

“That’s the part I don’t understand,” you admit, unintentionally leaning forward in your seat at even the mention of his name. When it comes to Oberyn, you understand that you are simply one in a long line. But he is so incredibly unique that you can’t find it in yourself to mind one bit. “Sweeten me up for what?”

“He wants you.” She tells you bluntly. “Want you to have a relationship with him.”

"Oh!" That was certainly not on the list of things you had counted as possibilities for this conversation -- or ever -- and you're honestly just glad that you hadn't taken a sip of your drink in that moment. "Then...I don't..." Your cheeks flare hot and you clear your throat. "I don't want to sound rude but...why not just ask me that himself?"

“He wanted my opinion on you.” She admits. “And Oberyn likes to give. He is very generous with his lovers and even more so with the ones he has more than just casual flings with. However, he has noticed that you are not like others. He wanted me to show you a glimpse of what he could offer you.”

"You mean I didn't sleep with him because he's famous and wealthy?" It must have really struck a chord with him that you didn't recognize him. That you had just liked him. Been honestly attracted to the man for who he is. "He's a good man. And alarmingly sexy. But you know that better than I do. It isn't hard to be attracted to him. Not at all."

“Oh I know.” She promises. “But your sentiment is exactly what has drawn him in. He wants to keep that for himself.” She picks up her martini glass again. “He is always accusing me of being greedy, but he is just as greedy.”

"So...he wants to...keep me?" You raise your eyebrow at that and have to concede that she was right. You absolutely did need a strong drink for this. "I know he would never give you up, and I certainly would never ask him to."

“Yes.” She nods bluntly. “Oberyn has never been one to limit his appetites, nor limit those of his lovers.” She explains. “It is why your Lizzy found her way into my bed and you tumbled into his.” She smiles.

"And he didn't know if I would be willing to be kept." The thought had never even crossed your mind before. It isn't like there are an abundance of opportunities for broken young women to actually find rich men to shower them in money that aren't either incredibly creepy or bordering on illegal. "So he asked you to make it appealing to me."

“Some find it morally or ethically repugnant.” Ellaria snorts indelicately and rolls her eyes. “Oberyn kept me from selling myself on the streets the first night he met me.” She admits. “I was one hour away from going to work at the brothel when I stopped into a bar to have a drink.”

"What's repugnant is people forcing others into desperate circumstances. Not choosing your own means of survival." Still, your mind reels. Not about any sort of moral hang up but just about the reality of the situation. "I wouldn't feel right taking money for nothing," you tell her honestly. "I don't know what the hell I'm qualified to do, but I would feel like I would have to do something for him."

“That is why his library would be perfect for you.” She hums. “I have a feeling you would be spending plenty of time there anyway.” She winks saucily at you. “But I feel as if I have force you into these circumstances.” She frowns as the words come out. “Which is why I will pay for your bills if you decide not to accept Oberyn’s offer.”

"You don't have to do that." While it's appreciated, it still wouldn't feel right. You haven't done anything to earn that sort of generosity from her. "But...can I ask you...what it's like?" Over her shoulder, you can see the waiter approaching with a tray full of small plates and you finish your thought quickly. "Your arrangement wouldn't be exactly the same as mine, I understand that. But...you're the only person I know I could ask as an example."

She smiles, waiting as the plates are brought to the table, along with the second set of martinis. “Another set of drinks in fifteen minutes.” She requests and looks back at you after thanking the waiter. “It’s….freeing.” She admits. “He will not keep you from taking another lover, he would love to play with you if you so choose. He’s intelligent and charming, bold and some would say that he is quick to temper, but he would never harm you.” She promises. “You have the freedom to do what you wish, with whomever you wish it, as long as you also fulfill his need of you.”

You can't help but smile at that. "Which...let's face it. It's Oberyn. That need is an active one."

“And it will only increase when you have children.” She laughs. “I was having to beat him off of me when I was carrying.” She’s joking, but only just.

"That..." The thought dawns on you with the force of summer sun. "That's why you asked me if I wanted a family?"

“I could not see Oberyn denying himself - or you - a child.” She admits with a small shrug. “He does have eight daughters that he adores.”

"I guess I haven't really thought about it as a possibility," you admit. "Not having a partner put a damper on that. And even my ex wasn't too hot on the idea of kids."

“You will never meet a more excited, or involved father.” She can readily testify to that. He has an individual and close relationship with each of his daughters. Any other children would most definitely be treated to the same relationship.

“Do you…I’m sorry if this is rude, but do you have any kind of relationship with the other girl’s mothers?” While you talk she nudges the food toward you a little and you both begin to eat. “I’m just trying to imagine how so large a family fits together.”

“The others…..” Ellaria sighs. “It’s complicated. But the other women wanted nothing to do with the children beyond what Oberyn could give them. So he took custody.” She explains. “He offered to let them see the girls, but none of them have.”

“I see.” That doesn’t sit well with you at all, but it isn’t your place to have an opinion on any of it. Whatever deals Oberyn made with those women it happened a long time ago and it has nothing to do with you. You just hate the idea of the daughters being used as bargaining chips in any way.

She can see that the entire thing bothers you and she reaches out. “He never would have taken them from their mothers if they loved them as the children they were, rather than a means of income.” She promises. “Although the last one before me, she was a nun.”

“I suppose I just don’t like the idea that anyone would ever think of having kids as a source of income,” you admit, trying to wipe the frown off your face. “But life is complicated. I’m sure there was more going on that I have no idea about.”

“He will tell you about each case if you wish.” She knows Oberyn has nothing to hide about his children, never would hide anything.

“I’ll ask once things are…settled.” Once you know what this next step in your life is going to look like. Because despite the uncertainty and the unexpectedness of what is being offered to you, it is an offer that you don’t really see the downside to. Sure…it would only last as long as he decides he’s happy with the rearrangement. But isn’t all employment at will, so to speak?

“He can be very open.” She smiles and picks up her chopsticks. “Shall we partake in your first experience with this particular fusion?” She asks playfully. “And you can ask me any other questions you might have.”

“Is it too forward to ask what your arrangement with Oberyn is?” She’s the only person you could ask such a thing, after all, and you’re curious. He asked her to warm you up to the idea — but the only idea you have of it all right now is vague at best.

“We are lovers.” She has no issue sharing with you. “Friends, companions. Everything you could imagine short of marriage.” She holds a piece of sushi up and examines it as she talks. “But we also have the freedom to do as we wish. If I were walk away today, Oberyn would let me go, and everything I have would still be mine, even though everyone knows he gave it to me.”

“Did you always live with him?” The first of the sushi rolls that you try is bursting with the familiar tastes of tandoori spices and the sweet tang of seasoned sushi rice. Unexpected but very delicious.

“From the very first night.” She nods. “Oberyn does not like giving up a good thing when he has it.” She smirks at you. “As you are finding out.”

"I just don't want to leave Lizzy without help," you explain, and if it wasn't abundantly clear to Ellaria that you were seriously considering the offer it should be now. "Living expenses are enormous. And she has a good job, but it's still hard."

“Ohhhh, I don’t think you would need to worry about Lizzy.” She hums, her smirk deepening.

"And what exactly does that mean?" You ask, raising one eyebrow in interest.

“It means that your friend is a very special woman.” She winks and reaches for another roll.

"I hope it means you're going to be good to her, too?" That would be so much of what Lizzy wants. So very much.

“Of course she would be very well spoiled.” She winks again. “We have decided that the apartments in the west wing that aren’t being used will be remodeled.”

“We?” The bite of sushi in your mouth is a little too big for talking around delicately and you swallow quickly. “You and Oberyn have already talked about it?”

“We have always had the agreement that if we have found someone we are willing to have an arrangement with, that we would bring them to us rather than take away potential time with the girls.” She explains.

“So…you’re going to offer Lizzy an arrangement, too?” What an utter relief that would be, if it’s true. Lizzy is besotted with Ellaria and loves kids despite not wanting to have any herself. She would be so happy to be a part of a family but have the freedom to come and go and live her own life as she pleases.

“I was hoping she would be up for it.” Ellaria admits. “I have so enjoyed the time with her and find that we are very compatible.”

"I think she will love it." And that fact is like the last of your reservations melting away. Like the thing holding you back wasn't worry for yourself, but worry for your friend who had pulled you out of the pit you were in after your breakup. Lizzy had pulled you out, dusted you off, and gotten you back on your feet and you would never ever abandon her after that kind of love.

She can see that you are relaxed knowing that your friend would be taken care of and that speaks to your character so much more than any words could. “He is right.” She muses. “You are wonderful.”

"I don't know about that," you shake your head, ill-equipped for such a shining compliment. "But I love my best friend very much."

“Of course you do.” She tuts softly, as if it is beyond reason that you would think otherwise.

------

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[stayteezdreams]

Testing the Waters

Plot: While attending a Halloween party, you learn Yunho's mystery costume was really just a plan to make his feelings for you a bit more obvious.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Gn!Reader

Requested Prompt: "Are you and 'x' dating?" "No, why?" "Then why are you wearing a couples costume?" Requested By: Anonymous

A/N: I tried to go for a fairly gender neutral with the costume idea.

Words: ~1.6k

As you arrived at the bustling Halloween party of your friend, you looked around the large house they rented out. Waving and saying 'Hi' to some friends and acquaintances as you walked in, your eyes were really only searching around for one person. Yunho.

You knew he was already here, but where, was what you were unsure about. Hearing your name being called you saw a couple of your close friends and made your way over to them.

Talking with them for a while, your search for Yunho had been suspended, but that didn't stop your eyes from looking around the room for him every couple of minutes.

You felt a bit childish searching for him so much, wondering if it was a little too obvious he was the main reason you came. You thought of sitting this one out, but Yunho told you he wanted you to come, and well, that was that. Sometimes you wondered if you made your crush on him far too obvious.

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you looked back to see another one of your close friends, you greeted her as you complimented her Poison Ivy costume. She looked you up and down and something akin to realization crossed her face.

She met your eyes with a sparkle you didn't understand before, "Ooh, now I get it."

"Get what?"

She smiled almost knowingly at you as she leaned a bit closer to you and spoke with a curious tone, "Are you and Yunho dating?"

You felt your heart jump at the sudden question, you let out a soft surprised chuckle, "What? No, why?"

"Oh." She seemed a bit thrown off, "Then why are you wearing a couples costume?"

You blinked a few times as you looked down at yourself. You panicked for a last-minute costume and put together an old wedding costume you had worn a few Halloween's ago. It was a zombie costume that time, but this year you refurbished it to appear as a vampire instead, also adding in some vampire fangs and appropriate makeup.

"We are?"

Looking around as though Yunho might suddenly appear, you felt confusion as your heart hammered in your chest. You had no idea what Yunho was going to come as, as he told you his costume was a surprise. Did he also come as a vampire? You two were known to be close, is that why she would mistake you as coming as a couple?

"You didn't know?" she asked with a soft laugh, and you shook your head.

"Do you know where he is?"

She pointed into the next room, and you excused yourself, curious to see just what Yunho was dressed as to be mistaken as your matching partner.

As you entered the room, you cast your eyes high to look for the taller people in the room. One thing about Yunho is that his height always made him a bit easier to find in crowded rooms.

Finally seeing the back of his head as he watched a game of beer pong, you felt relief wash over you. You could tell he was wearing a suit as you approached.

Tapping his shoulder, he spun around, and a smile appeared as he saw you. You looked him up and down and realized why your friend thought you were wearing a couples costume.

He was wearing a suit, one that appeared to be a groom's suit, boutonniere and all. His makeup made him pale as two bloody bite marks were obvious on his neck. Had you been someone else, looking at you two, it would appear obvious you were matching. The wedding couple, one a vampire, the other the victim.

Yunho saw you looking him over and his anxiety rose. You met his eyes, and he saw you appeared a bit confused.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to match my costume?" You weren't angry, just a bit confused.

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I actually couldn't find a costume I liked and started to panic, when I thought of what you were wearing, I realized I had stuff I could wear that was similar. So, I thought I would surprise you with a matching costume." He paused before letting out an almost strangled, "Surprise!"

You paused for a second before letting out a soft laugh, and the weight that had been building on Yunho's chest lifted immediately.

In reality, he had a costume pre-planned but decided to match yours on purpose. Why he lied though, was because of his fear his plan might not work.

Gently he placed his hand on your arm, following his lead, the two of you made your way to a nearby window giving the two of you a bit more privacy, even though the room around you was still bustling.

"Are you mad?" He added on and you shook your head.

"No, it's fine, I don't mind matching, though..." he tilted his head in question, and you added on a bit shyly, "You do know people think we are dating because of this right?"

Yunho's heart jolted in his chest as he repressed a grin. That was exactly what he wanted to happen.

He shrugged his shoulders, "What's the problem with that?"

Your heart rate spiked at this, as your neck and ears grew a bit warm. "I-I don't mind it, really, I just thought you might is all." Your voice was a bit more stuttered than you meant, and you feared it made your feelings a bit more obvious.

Yunho smiled down at you, it did make it a bit more obvious, and Yunho was glad. Leaning down so he could speak clearly into your ear. You could practically hear the grin in his voice.

"Honestly, I kind of hoped people would think I was your boyfriend."

Your eyes widened at this as your heart raced, straightening back up, you caught Yunho's eyes again as he smiled down at you. There was light teasing in his smile, but it was more genuine than not.

"Why?" You muttered out in confusion and surprise.

He bit his lip lightly, "I wanted to see how you would react."

You furrowed your brow, "Again, why?"

He let out a soft laugh before he looked at you softly, his eyes seemed to scan your face, and you didn't fail to notice how his eyes lingered on your lips longer than anywhere else. He then trailed his eyes slowly up to your own before a slow smile spread across his face.

Butterflies were rampaging through your stomach now as you nervously swallowed. Though the music and noise around you was loud, it felt as though it was only the two of you. You couldn't see or hear anything but him and your own heartbeat as he stared at you.

He took in a soft breath before swallowing nervously. "Because I was too afraid to ask if you would actually want me to be your boyfriend."

Yunho watched as confusion and realization crossed your face back-to-back. He would have laughed at how cute you appeared; had he not been fighting back his own nerves.

"So... it was a test?"

He shrugged his head slightly before nodding, "Sort of."

You looked down at your hands nervously, as Yunho shuffled on his feet. Closing your eyes briefly you bit back a grin before you reached out and smacked Yunho's shoulder.

His eyes widened in surprise at the action before he saw a soft smile play at your lips as you repressed a laugh.

"You should have just asked me." You bit your lips shyly and he let out a soft laugh.

"I was too afraid."

"Too afraid to ask me out but not too afraid to trick me, hmm?" You teased and he tilted his head back and let out a sigh before he chuckled.

Looking back at you he shook his head softly, "You make me nervous you know. I'm just good at hiding it."

"Too good." You mumbled and he grinned before stepping closer to you, leaning down to bring his eyes level with yours.

"I won't hide it anymore though, okay? So, I don't want you to hide how you feel either."

Ah, so your feelings were obvious.

You nervously bit the inside of your lips before nodding softly. He titled his head as he smiled, "So?"

"So?" You repeated, feigning innocence as to what it was he wanted to know.

He let out a chuckle, "So, do you want me to be your boyfriend?"

Your heart was racing almost painfully as you softly nodded, too shy to speak. Yunho's smile only grew as he continued.

"Can I be your boyfriend?"

You nodded again and he felt as though his heart would burst. Standing, he wrapped his arms around you before pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your face in his chest as your heart beats both pounded heavily in your chests.

"Can I confess something else?" Yunho asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"I lied about not having another costume, I really just wanted to wear a couples costume with you."

You paused for a second before chuckling, "Why am I not surprised." You thought for a second before adding on, "Next time we can plan something together, okay?"

He grinned as he tightened his grip around you, "Okay." Resting his head against yours he felt light as he held you, everything having worked out better than he had had hoped.

xx End xx

I.hate.endings. They never come out as smoothly as I want lol. But i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, sorry it's a bit quick.

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[last-starry-sky]

kinktober day 31 - scars // monsterfucking - pt. 1

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

poly!141 x f!reader

[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 1.1k, alcohol mention, no actual sex in this part, just pure halloween fluff 🎃, enjoy!]

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass

You couldn’t contain your happy screech when you opened the door.

When the four men who lived down the street had seen you decorating for Halloween (in August but that’s not important), it sparked a long overdue introduction that ended with you convincing them helping you with a few of the more unwieldy parts of your grand design. Soap got a kick out of the 12ft. skeleton, and Gaz only almost fell off your roof once while tying down the giant rope spiderweb. 

That had been months ago, and now, every now and then, they made sure to stop by to check in on you. The four of them seemed pretty bored, and you were a single woman all alone in that big house. Having someone to look at leaks in your radiators or nail down loose floorboards kept money in your party fund and you got four different flavors of hot men to look at. How was this not a win for you?

You had invited them all to checkout the “little get together” you were planning for Halloween night. If they didn’t have anything else to do, of course. Something told you they weren’t the kind of guys to stay in and hand out candy. You loved the look that they passed around to each other as you waited for their response, all side eyes and sly smirks.

Sure. Yes. Of course, love. They all chimed, Ghost’s oppressive silence speaking for itself. 

When the big night rolled around everything was perfect: your jack-o-lanterns were all lit, flickering candles inside them dancing in the night breeze, the lights the guys had helped you hang swayed in the empty branches of each of the trees in your front yard, even the moon played her part, hanging overhead shaped like a reaper’s scythe. 

Your various friends, coworkers and acquaintances all arrived as the night spun on. Everyone enjoyed the massive tub of purple punch you had prepared, the bubbling dry-ice cauldron really selling it. You provided a simple charcuterie board, and had told everyone to bring a themed snack to share if they wanted. The table filled quickly as everyone arrived. Various shaped and decorated cookies were popular. Your one coworker brought his “famous” deviled eggs and another brought in a plate of sliced apples and homemade caramel sauce. Otherwise, it was bring your own beer and the party was over at dawn.  

You lost track of time as you buzzed around, trying to have fun and host as best as possible. Midnight chiming on your grandfather clock made you realize that your four most anticipated guests had yet to arrive. You wouldn’t have faulted them if they just didn’t show. They were your friends, it wasn’t the end of the world. Wouldn’t have given them grief if they didn’t come in costume, either. Your brain just about exploded with joy when you answered the door to see all four of them, even Ghost, dolled up in their spooky best. 

Price was the first over the threshold, turning your open arms into a hug as he swept you inside. His pointy wizard hat was almost knocked off by the door frame, making you giggle as he set you down.

“I can’t believe you all dressed up!” you said, hands admiring the rather expensive looking high-collared robe he was wearing.

Soap was next, slipping around Price to pull you in for a hug. He smooshed your face into his flannel chest, chest partially exposed and very hairy. Whoever had done his makeup was a true effects talent. The extra hair on his face and neck was blended perfectly with his natural color and the pointy ears looked startlingly life-like. He even had a dab of dark paint under his nose to make it look like a dogs. When he smiled, flashing a double set of prominent canines, you couldn’t help but stare. 

“Wow!” you commented, petting his flannel because it was the most appropriate thing you could will yourself to touch. “You really went all out!”

Gaz’s hand on your shoulder made you jump before you realized it was him. He looked so different, probably the most changed of all the guys. He didn’t have any makeup, but his costume was impeccable. A black silk shirt with a loose black cravat around his neck, a rich red brocade vest that looked incredible against his skin, topped off with a black trench coat that you were pretty sure you had seen him in before. You threw yourself into his hug, squealing the whole time.

“I love your vampire costume! It’s my favorite!” you said excitedly, dancing on your toes as you did. You smiled at him as you stepped away, catching a glimpse of the set of long canines in his mouth as he replied with a simple, “thanks”. 

"Hear that?" you heard him whisper to Price. "Said 'm her favorite."

“And what are you supposed to be, love?” Price asked, looking down at you authoritatively, hands on his robed hips.

“Oh me?” you responded nervously. “I’m a witch!” you answered, looking around for your hat.

You must have taken it off when you went into the basement for more booze. The ceiling was pretty low down there, and you didn’t want to bring up any actual spiders with it. You felt a little disappointed, standing next to them in their amazing costumes while you had to sell your black and silver dress without your one accessory. 

“‘er y’ go,” Ghost said, arm reaching over the shoulders of the men around you to plop your wide, decorated black hat on your head. The tatters of his mummy wrappings caught on their clothes as he pulled his arm back. 

Price turned to make room for the man, letting him enjoy the full view of your sweet smile and nervous sway. This was the first time he’d ever talked directly to you. 

“Thanks, Ghost,” you said shyly. “I appreciate it.” 

There was something unnerving in his simple costume. It suited him, of course. Layers of dirty-linen colored gauze obscured most of his face, continuing down to wrap his whole body. Whomever Soap had found to do his makeup must have a friend in costume design, because you couldn’t find where a shirt or pants split to combine into one. The effect was near seamless. Even the tatters that streamed down his legs and off his arms didn’t look tacked on.

He had left both of his eyes exposed, too. His large brown irises and (you assumed) natural dark bags beneath them adding to his haggard, aged appearance. What made your stomach turn was how he had emphasized the few scars that crept out from behind the wrappings. You could see where each true scar ended in a bump of flesh, but the ends had been extended, made to look longer, wider, crueler. 

Maybe he wanted to look flayed beneath everything, you thought. It was Halloween after all.

[theladycarpathia]

Billy’s not expecting the call from his dad.

“Billy?” Hop sounds distant, the faint sound of an idling engine in the background. Billy blinks, because his dad is at work and as far as Billy knows that usually means sitting behind a desk at the station and arguing with Flo.

“Don’t you have paperwork to be doing?” Billy says and Hopper snorts. There’s the sound of background traffic that’s then shut out by the clang of a car door.

“Don’t give me cheek, I am still the chief,” Hopper says as though that means anything in a small town where the most crime that they get is some drunk idiot attempting to rob the gas station.

“Yes, sir,” Billy quips and changes the channel. No one else is home and he’s bored. Jon and Joyce are still at work, and El and Will are doing weird nerd activities. The diner didn’t have a shift for him today and he doesn’t have a date, so he came home. He’d half expected someone to be here, instead of getting stuck with a protein bar and old reruns.

“That’s more like it,” Hopper says and then clears his throat awkwardly. “I was just wondering…are you definitely single?”

“Dad,” Billy says, attention now fully away from the TV set. Hop’s called him before, to ask him shit like do they need milk and to take the trash out. He doesn't call to talk about Billy's love life. They never talk about that, not after that time Hopper came in his room without knocking. “What is your next question, because this could make the next family dinner a little uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Hopper gripes. There’s the sudden cackle of laughter in the background and Billy sits up.

“Are you with someone?” he asks and then sucks in a breath at the implications. “Did you put me on speaker?”

“I may have done,” Hopper says, sounding sheepish. “I just picked up a young man outside the movie theatre and he’s about your age…”

“I’m nineteen!” the mystery guy hollers from the backseat. Hopper keeps talking like the guy hadn’t spoken.

“I don’t know, I just thought he was your type.”

Billy presses a hand to his temple, unable to believe that his dad has just said those words. “What’s my type?” he asks, wondering if he’s going to combust right here and now. Hopper makes that little awkward throat clearing again, like he can’t believe the situation either.

“You know,” he says stiffly. “Sort of…pretty.”

Oh God. Billy can never look Hopper in the eye again.

“You think I’m pretty?” the guy asks curiously, and Billy can’t blame him for sounding a bit weirded out.

“I think you look like a lot of the doe-eyed pretty-boys my son brings home,” Hopper snaps. Despite his obvious discomfort, Billy can’t help the rush of affection at Hopper trying to be supportive. Neil would have beat the shit out of him. Hopper tries to hook him up with appropriately aged delinquents in the back of the police car.

“A lot?” the guy asks and Billy flushes. He then regrets it because he has no idea if he even wants to impress whatever guy Hopper has picked up.

“It’s not a lot,” he says defensively because Hawkins isn’t exactly big on the gay scene. His last boyfriend he met at Tina’s Halloween party and to be fair, if you wear a kilt and not a lot else to a party in October, Billy’s absolutely going to beg you to rail him in the downstairs cloakroom. The relationship hadn't exactly worked out.

“Look, I get the feeling I’m never going to hear the end of this so here’s the situation,” Hopper says, sounding tired. “This is my son, Billy. He’s about to finish high school, he likes cars and burgers and loud music. He has shit taste in men even though he’s attractive, clever and a smart mouth. Billy, this is Steve. I was on my way back from the mayor’s office when I caught him peeing in an alley. Judging by his big brown eyes and the fact that public nudity doesn’t seem to be a problem for him, I thought of you.”

“Aww,” Billy drawls, sitting back on the couch. There are lights in the drive so someone has just arrived home. Which is good because he needs to tell everyone this story so they can give Hopper shit about it over dinner. “Pops, that’s so sweet.”

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” Hopper says, like he hasn’t already done everything for Billy by getting him out, giving him a home. “I’ll take an extra polaroid when I process him.”

“I had to take a leak!” Steve protests and Hopper sucks in air through his teeth.

“There are public bathrooms, kid, I’ve heard those work pretty well. Billy, help your mom with dinner when she gets home.” Sucks for Hopper, it’s Jon heading up the path, keys dangling from his fingers. Billy can’t wait to tell him this story.

“Or what, you won’t bring me any more dates?” Billy asks, but he’s only half-joking. Hopper means well and kind of fucks it up a lot but this time he might have hit it right on the money. He thinks he might like Steve.

“Do I get a picture?” Steve asks. “Or does the Hawkins Police just pimp out young innocent men with full bladders?”

Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to like Steve.

“I have a picture on my desk,” Hopper admits grumpily. There’s the jangle of keys in the door as Jonathan lets himself in. “You can look at it if you’re good.”

“And what if I’m not?” Steve asks and Jonathan walks in just in time to raise his eyebrows at Billy.

“I can help punish him, if he’s not,” Billy suggests, and Hopper hangs up the phone just as Steve begins to laugh.

This has probably been done before because it's based on that famous tumblr post but it's so dull during school holidays I have nothing to do but write. And I have no in progress Harringrove fics which is probably a problem I should fix.

[dazed-dollie]

a doll's desires, act 1, prologue

an 18+ fantasy-horror short story series

act 1 - the phantom's doll

story content warnings: dollification, non-con/dub-con fantasy hypnosis, mild corruption kink, non-con/dub-con sexual encounters, doll transformation, psychological body horror, body betrayal

prologue

relevant content warnings: non-con/dub-con fantasy hypnosis

This is a story about a good girl, who always did what she was told. It was the safe choice. She was told to do well in school, and so she did, graduating with honors; recommendations and accolades from her teachers in abundance. The safe choice. She was told to use her degree to get a good office job - and so she did, stunning co-workers and managers alike with her charm, quick thinking and extraordinary attention to detail. The safe choice - she always went with the safe choice.

It just made sense. After all, things never went well when she made the unsafe choice.

She made one unsafe choice - then another - then another. The chaos that was left in the wake of those choices could be measured in magnitudes. No - nothing good or safe had ever come from succumbing to the call of her darkness.

It whispered in her ear -  

Harder.  Faster.  More. Surrender. Echoing in her thoughts like a guiding rhythm. Taunting her mind like a mocking prayer. So - safe, it was. Even as that blanket of safety wrapped around her with its suffocating steadiness, it was what she…wanted. No - decided. It was her choice and that is what mattered.

Right?

Her safe, perfectly-calibrated rhythm was tuned to counterbalance the dark cadence that threatened to consume her. She made sure of it - deliberating each step, calculating each word, planning each transition. But that process did not come without its own cost, and the cracks were beginning to show. But she was at the cliff’s edge of ability to bear the heavy weight of “safe” for much longer - the dark rhythm was threatening to shatter its fragile dam. She tossed fitfully in her bed, the deafening hymn the only sound in her mind... ...when she heard it. A new tune - one that seemed to harmonize with the dark refrain. It was opera, of that much she could be sure, but her mind seemed to be unable to hold on to a single word, note, or phrase before the next arrived. She could not think, she could only listen, experience, and feel.

It felt soothing…relaxing…and suddenly the darkness of the call seemed less frightening. The lilting tenor voice reminded her of the sensitive and artistic soul she had once been with dreams of art, passion, music, and beauty. The slow slide of the melody's consuming aura wrapping around her body ignited heat and sent waves of pleasure along her spine. No longer a lonely, solemn aria, her mind now sang an enthralling duet. Her mind began to quiet to complete silence, as the dynamics between the tenor’s song and her dark chorus plunged her mind into the inky waters of a deep and "dreamless" sleep.

hello and thank you for reading! I just wanted to hop in at the end here to add some context and info about the direction of the rest of this story. I wanted to start “dollie’s dramas” with an erotic fantasy-horror concept to explore the darker and frightening parts of the some of edgier kinks as appropriate for (what’s left of) the season. I’m hoping this will also serve as an exercise in giving words to some of the conflicting feelings that can arise while playing in these kinks, when they go both right and wrong.

the other inspirations - phantom of the opera, “the doll people” by Sofia Isella

the body horror elements mentioned will not be graphic or feature any gore-like imagery and it will be more of a psychological take on body horror of the transformation element of dollification.

hoping to drop the rest of act 1 for halloween tomorrow 🎃

act 1, chapter 1 here

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest Halloween - Prologue

Summary: Twas the week before Halloween and all through Hawkins High...

Word Count: 666

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Friendship, humor, angst, slightly OOC Eddie, Freak #3 is named Dave in my universe, a comment about Dave being a glutton (which I HATE TO DO because "stereotypical fat guy" is my biggest pet peeve)

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Tomorrow is the DAY!!! I'm so excited for this. AM I BREAKING THE RULES WITH A LITTLE PRE GAME SHOW? Yes. Yes I am but let's consider this to be my little warm up...

Tagging @the-unforgivenn upon request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Thursday, October 24th 1985

The Hellfire Club put up with a lot of bullshit during their relatively short lives--bullying, mockery, cheese pizza farts on late night rides home in the van--but none of them were quite as challenging as the insane stunts of their beloved leader: Eddie Munson

Or, as he was more appropriately known on this, the Thursday before Halloween, Satan.

They'd been minding their own business waiting for him to join them at lunch. Dave and Mike chatted about their characters' stats and Jeff pushed meatloaf and mashed potatoes around his tray. Then Eddie appeared at the door of the cafeteria, fully embracing his alleged devil worship with a bright, red, nylon cape with a propped collar that kept hitting him in the face and a headband with plastic horns on top of his head.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding," Gareth cursed as Eddie cast his arms out with a flourish and caught the attention of the entire student body.

Whether they were in awe or fear or simply annoyed was another story.

The boys were all used to Eddie's antics, though. The freshmen giggled while their older friends--Eddie's bandmates--groaned collectively.

"Twas the week before Halloween," Eddie bellowed, his voice echoing across the room. "And all through Hawkins High...all the sick freaks were stirring, waiting for their beloved celebration to arrive!"

"Sick freak is right," came a snicker from the peanut gallery.

"Shut up, Munson!" Another jest.

Eddie stuck his tongue out at them, and then threw his arms down; with another flourish of his cape, he crossed the cafeteria and dropped into his usual seat at the head of the table.

"Can't ever have any fun in this dumb, bible humping town," he grumbled. "This is our holiday. Don't you think that would mean something to these stick in the mud types?"

The guys all nodded along as he went on a very in-character rant for him, one about parties and keg stands and popular kids and cheerleaders in skimpy costumes.

"Well," he snorted and then leaned back in his chair, "I guess I have nothing to complain about that one. Lust is one of the deadly sins after all."

"Deadly sins?" Dustin squeaked from his seat, his eyes wide with nervousness. "Sounds...deadly."

The cackle that Eddie let out could only be described as evil.

"Mom not making you say your prayers before bed, Dusty?" he asked, leaning closer to his young friend with a predatory grin.

"Gross, your cape is in my lunch," Dave groaned.

The Dungeon Master looked down and grimaced at the clumpy cafeteria gravy that now-stained his costume.

"The Deadly Sins," he bit out, gracing his friends with an explanation, "are behaviors that take you right to hell. Greed, Envy, Pride, Sloth, Lust, Wrath...Gluttony."

He shot Dave a pointed stare, earning two middle fingers from the implied glutton.

"So if you're greedy, you go straight to hell?" Dustin questioned. "That's it? You don't have to kill anyone? That seems like an overreaction."

"Well, Mr. Judgey," Eddie responded with a sardonic smile, "maybe if you live a life full of said greed, you'll be irredeemable. Maybe it'll take you down an even more sinful path. Maybe the man upstairs gives you some sudden consequence that leads you back onto the path of goodness."

"The point is it's hard not to do them," Jeff interjected finally to ease the younger boy's worries, then snapped his head back towards Eddie. "Was that hard?"

Eddie tsked and shook his head disapprovingly, "gotta watch that wrath, Jeff."

"I'm not worried."

"Ah!" Eddie jumped to his feet and pointed at each of his friends. "But there's one week left until Halloween. Mischief is afoot, so whether or not you're worried about the Deadly Sins, they might still find you."

"Is that a promise?" Jeff asked.

"It very well might be," Eddie warned, and then abandoned his spot to run back out of the cafeteria, cackling, "Happy Halloween to all, and to all a good blight."

[silenthillmutual]

i need to edit this up & perhaps make it a little less sad but... @emorstrador suggested halloween-esque alfhunter, thinking about different sorts of traditions... my brain took me to thinking about the nightmare and honoring the dead.

not sure if i would call this finished but it is 2 days late so here is what i have :)

The Hunter’s Nightmare is a dreadful place. They’re not entirely certain how they arrived. Madness must be setting in: they could swear they were lifted to the air by some invisible hand, inflicted with a sick and sour moment of euphoria, and dropped on the ground in an abandoned Cathedral Ward.

But something is so very, very wrong with it.

They notice it in the smell, first. The incense has disappeared, as has their charitable acquaintance in the corner. They haven’t sought to save quite so many as they envision their companions must have, but the chapel is empty.

The aberration earns its moniker in the few seconds they spend beyond the walls – just long enough to come across another hunter, hostile and screaming as one of his targets, taking them down in one solid, heated swing.

The Hunter is woefully curious. Curiosity is not enough to ensure survival, but when they die again and again, when they return to the lantern again and again, they confirm to themself that this place is, in fact, real.

--

“Have you been to the Dream?” they ask.

Alfred nods. “It has been some time since I’ve visited – I can scarcely remember its image – but, yes. I out as a beast hunter. I began in the Dream.”

The Hunter tries to imagine it: Alfred, younger, receiving Gehrman’s wisdom as they had. A flood of questions surface, demanding attention. How long has it been since he started hunting? Would he be able to return? But these thoughts are not why the Hunter asked the leading question, and so they ignore the flurry. Instead, they ask, “Have you been to the Nightmare?”

Alfred blinks in clear surprise, his brows raised. “The Nightmare?” They nod. “I had taken that for superstition,” he admits. “Hunters gone mad, prowling the streets in a search for more blood, more violence – how different could that be from Yharnam proper?” He shakes his head. “I understand it as a… colorful fable.”

“You’d be surprised,” the Hunter mumbles.

It is, perhaps, the wrong response to give. It’s obvious Alfred is intrigued. He shifts closer, his warmth falling on the Hunter’s shoulder. “Tell me about it?” he asks.

So they do.

--

The Nightmare will not leave the Hunter alone. Their time spent exploring the restless domain is grueling, dispiriting work. More than once they consider turning back and never returning – no one, after all, is asking them to investigate. Aside from Alfred, no one is even aware of their mission. But they cannot seem to lose the interest, and the more time they spend in the Nightmare, the more it encroaches on their heart.

They are, in a word, haunted.

Each time they return, Alfred has questions. What did they see? What did they find? What did they learn? And as relieving as it is to have a confidant, each return leaves the Hunter less and less willing to share. How long before they venture into the Nightmare and find themselves on the other end of Alfred’s weapon?

It’s not the sort of concern they’re keen to give voice to. Every hunter they encounter, they wonder about. They used to question where they all came from. Now they worry about where they’re all headed.

--

Sympathy aches like an open wound from the moment they enter the Research Hall to the second they pass the Astral Clock Tower. They stand at the entrance to the Fishing Hamlet, and feel too overwhelmed with grief to continue. They find a Mark and use it, catapulting themselves back to a Lantern, to the Dream, to Yharnam.

They stand in the Cathedral Ward, trembling slightly. Who are they to share this with? No one seems appropriate. Eager as he is for information, the Hunter cannot fathom telling Alfred. Eileen would only chide them for sticking their nose where it did not belong. Valtr… well, what was even left of him?

Rain patters down on the stone, falling cold against the Hunter’s face as they turn up their chin to gaze at the moon. How long have they been in Yharnam? What day is it, and in which month? Have they missed the chance to honor those who came before?

There isn’t much honor in a hunter’s death, but they can do their best. They have to do something.

--

“I apologize, but I find myself confused. You want to do all of this why?”

The Hunter refrains from rolling their eyes, frustrated. No one here seems to understand that there is a world beyond Yharnam, a world that might have different customs, different priorities. It hadn’t been an issue thus far; the Hunter was more concerned with learning what they could about Yharnam’s history, and it didn’t matter that the courtesy was never extended to them.

Now that they don’t want to share what they’ve learned, it’s getting harder to walk around the topic.

“You don’t have to help.”

“I will,” Alfred promises, “but I do not understand. What has this to do with the Nightmare?”

“It doesn’t.” Beneath the mask, their tongue runs against their lips, anxious to be finished with this conversation. “Not past the desire I have to pay my respect.” They pause, another breath lingering in their chest. “I thought you might want to do something similar. For Logarius.”

Alfred stands a little straighter. They think, at first, that they may have lost him, touchy as he is about his master; but he doesn’t leave, only nods and asks, “What is it you’d like me to do?”

So they sit at a table, what meager supplies they could scrounge up littering the surface. They have enough to make a dense bread, some honey candies, flower arrangements. For an hour – or whatever approximates an hour in Yharnam, in the Dream – they work in silence. From time to time they jostle each other by the feet, never acknowledging the touch.

Then, unable to stand the quiet, the Hunter asks, “Do you miss it?”

Alfred pauses, hands wrapped around an imperfect candle. “Do I miss what?”

“Your life,” the Hunter says. “The way things were before the Hunt. Family. Home. Normalcy.”

His eyes cast down, following the Hunter’s fingers around a garland. “If I could remember it, I suppose I would,” he says softly. The Hunter doesn’t know what to say to that. An apology dies on their lips, eyes re-focused on Alfred’s hands. “And you? Yharnam must seem very strange to an outsider, and I would venture a guess that you did not receive the warmest of welcomes.”

“What an understatement,” the Hunter grumbles. They do not miss the smirk that flashes across their companion’s face. “I do. I do miss it. Home, family. Perhaps it has only been one night. It feels like years.”

“The night of the Hunt is always the longest,” Alfred agrees. “I consider it a stroke of good luck to have made your acquaintance, and your friendship.”

Unable to offer anything else, the Hunter simply nods.

--

The Doll appears to have dozed off elsewhere, a small mercy for which the Hunter is incredibly grateful. The last time they spoke was uncanny and uncomfortable, leaving the Hunter swathed in guilt.

She has visited recently, however: the headstone is freshly cleaned.

They’ve made far too many offerings – more than can be placed in the small space allotted to them. More for the end of this night, the Hunter thinks. Whatever morning brings, they cannot help but imagine that it will be a sorrowful sunrise.

Both kneel to pray, solemn and silent.

[lorainelegacy]

Choosing the perfect costume

Summary: Halloween is coming up and Loraine has two choices of costumes, but she doesn't know which one to choose as she has never been to a costume party before. So she heads to Fig's office to get his opinion and clarify her doubts.

Word account: 3.1k

Pairing: Eleazar Fig x Loraine Hawks (F!Adult MC)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex.

October had arrived and Loraine was very excited. Autumn was her favourite season, yet at her aunt and uncle's house she had enjoyed it very little. Once she had tasted one of the chestnuts roasting in the leftovers her aunt and uncle had left in the kitchen and it was the most magnificent taste she had ever tasted, and the smell! The aroma alone was enough to transport her to a world of warmth and comfort, something so foreign to her. It was a simple memory, but one that remained etched in her memory.

And yet, she couldn't help but feel a deep melancholy, a reminder of Halloweens past, lonely, watching from the window as other children, costumed and cheerful, roamed the streets in search of sweets. But this year, everything was about to change. This year she was at Hogwarts, and that meant one thing: On Halloweens, seventh years in particular, had the privilege of attending an exclusive costume party, a tradition that turned the night into a display of creativity and camaraderie. It would be a night to remember!

However, despite the excitement surrounding her, she was faced with a dilemma she had never faced before: choosing a costume. The idea of dressing up was completely new to her.

With a mixture of excitement and nervousness, she ventured into Fig's office, as was now customary, with several outfits that Natty and Poppy had helped her choose. The embarrassment of soliciting Fig's opinion was a small price to pay for the security of looking flawless on her Halloween debut. With a gentle tap of her knuckles, she waited for the invitation to enter. Fig's voice, warm and welcoming, echoed with a ‘Come in,’ and she crossed the threshold, struggling awkwardly to close the door without dropping her precious cargo.

—There's no need to knock, my dear —Fig greeted her with a smile that lit up the room, her face reflecting a mixture of surprise and genuine affection—. You know this door is always open to you.

Loraine entered the room, announcing her presence with a radiant, broad smile that seemed to light up the space around her. She was the embodiment of enthusiasm.

—Those are… —Fig began, pointing to the suits in Loraine's arms. —That's right, —she affirmed with an energetic shake of her head, her tresses dancing to the rhythm of her movements— I had the best advisors: Poppy and Natty. It's my first foray into Halloween and I had no idea what to wear.

Fig stood up, his eyes brimming with affection as he gazed at her animated figure. A shadow of sadness came over his face, thinking of the many festive occasions Loraine had missed, the joy of her life marred by the harshness of her cruel tutors. But those days were now a fading memory.

A little sheepishly, Loraine pursed her lips and looked Fig in the eye.

—I'm a little ashamed to ask, but I need your opinion... —Ashamed? —Fig replied, folding his arms and leaning casually back against the desk—. Darling, I assure you, you will look splendid in whatever you choose.

Loraine felt her cheeks tinge a soft crimson, and she averted her gaze, unable to hold the intensity in Fig's eyes. Despite the closeness they'd developed over countless encounters, she still felt a tingle of nervousness every time he met her with that piercing, slightly amused gaze. And he obviously loved to provoke that reaction.

Suddenly, with a fluid gesture and a spark of magic, Fig conjured up an elegant and functional screen so that Loraine could change in privacy. Then, with a subtle wave of his wand, he locked the door.

—It wouldn't be very appropriate if someone were to walk in and witness this scene —he commented in a tone that mixed seriousness with a hint of mischief.

Loraine hesitated over which to try on first. Natty had selected a dress that was the quintessence of gothic seduction: a masterpiece in shades of crimson and ebony, complemented by a white chemise that boasted a cascade of ruffles, evoking the elegance of a period vampire. The finishing touch, polished fangs, added an air of dangerous mystery. Loraine was captivated by the beauty of the outfit, recognising its ingenuity, though she couldn't help but feel it bordered on provocative. The last thing she wanted was to project an image that did not align with her essence.

Behind the screen, Loraine's voice trembled slightly, betraying her uncertainty.

—This… Ah… I don't know if this is my style —she confessed, feeling the weight of the costume hugging her figure. —Let me see —Fig insisted curiously.

With a sigh that carried with it the burden of her doubt, Loraine complied and stepped around the screen. Fig, who had been absorbed in contemplation of his office, almost lost his balance as he gazed at her. The transformation was astonishing; Loraine's shyness had dissipated, replaced by an aura of confidence and mystery. Her cheeks, however, were tinged with an innocent blush under his gaze.

—Is it too much? —Loraine's voice trembled slightly, a note of vulnerability in her question.

Fig tensed his jaw and felt a wave of heat invade his body. She cleared her throat, trying to conceal her embarrassment.

—You look gorgeous, sweetheart. Perhaps a little too much...

He had never considered himself a man prone to jealousy, but the love he felt for Loraine was so deep that it instilled in him a visceral dread at the thought of losing her, especially to the gaze of younger men. And there was no doubt that, in a dress that hugged her figure with such elegance, she would attract eyes full of desire.

—Perhaps too much? —she repeated, and discovered the twinkle in her mentor's eyes that she knew so well. Knowing the terrain of his thoughts, she approached him gracefully and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips—. I wish I could dance with you at the ball, but I don't mind going alone. I wouldn't dance with a man who wasn't you.

Eleazar's heart widened at her words, and he drew her to him, his hands clasping her waist with a possession he would not allow himself to put into words.

—That would be a scandal —he teased, his voice tinged with a humour that failed to hide the depth of his affection. His fingers slid boldly under the skirt of her costume, exploring the softness of her skin with a caress— You need to try on the other costume, do you need help taking it off?

Loraine remained silent, her response not verbal but a subtle provocation: her teeth grazed Fig's neck in a barely perceptible caress, a gesture that ignited a spark between them. Reflexively, Fig intensified his embrace, his hands finding the contours of her bottom, squeezing it with desire.

—Are you getting into the role, my little shtriga? —Fig's voice was a whisper laden with intent, a tone that suggested that if she kept it up, she would eventually meet his mettle. —Shtriga? —Loraine repeated, pulling back to look him in the eye. —That's what vampire witches are called in Albanian folklore, my dear —he explained, his gaze intensifying, reflecting a desire that went beyond words, a longing that seemed to want to devour her completely.

Loraine nodded slowly and, in a smooth, deliberate movement, stroked the skin of his neck with her tongue. Fig, for his part, closed his eyes, immersing himself in the sensation of the caress, while his free hand deftly explored his young apprentice's back, deftly undoing the tie of the bodice that contained her. Meanwhile, she had already begun to play with his crotch, tracing provocative circles over the fabric.

—Why do I get the impression that showing me the costumes was just an excuse to get back to my office? —It could be… —Loraine whispered, as her index finger traced provocative circles, promising and torturing at the same time.

Fig, unable to resist the storm of sensations Loraine was arousing in him, pressed her against his body with a force that was both possessive and protective, emitting a growl that was pure animalistic expression. Then, placing her in front of the desk with a decisiveness that brooked no reply, he stood behind her, his presence a promise of imminent pleasure. His hands, now free of restraint, moved with propriety over her neck, tracing the contours of her collarbone, descending in homage to the beauty of her figure. Her skin was a temptation to the touch, soft but cold. He helped her out of her dress and dropped it on the couch along with his own scarf and robe.

—Did you like the costume so little? —she asked in a playful tone.

Fig didn't need the visual confirmation of her mischievous smile; he knew her too well. He answered her question not with words, but with a more intense pressing of his body against hers, a gesture that spoke volumes of his burning desire. He closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to savour the sensation, to burn it into his memory. Godric's heart! She had the ability to ignite him with an ease.

Loraine, aware of her effect on him, let out a soft, triumphant laugh. The proximity of his already noticeably hardened member was tangible proof of her effect on him. Yet, Fig was no novice to this tantalizing game. His grip on her neck tightened ever so slightly, not to harm but to anchor her to the present, to the electric connection they shared. He would never bring harm to his cherished gem. His free hand trailed a path of fire down her spine, coming to rest at the delicate edge of her undergarments. Loraine shivered under the touch of his exploring fingers and a suppressed moan escaping her lips. Fig ran his tongue over his lips as he felt the wetness he had provoked in her.

—Already so wet for me, my love… —he whispered huskily into her ear, his breath a warm caress as his fingers began a slow, deliberate dance over her clitoris.

Loraine's lips pressed together in a firm line, her breath hitching as Fig's grip held her firmly in place. Yet, there was no desire within her to escape his embrace. Instead, with a fumbling urgency, her left hand sought out the waistband of his trousers. Her fingers, less deft than his, managed to unfasten the button and slip beneath the fabric. She encountered his arousal, fully hard and radiating heat against the coolness of her touch. Loraine's hands, perpetually cold, elicited a shiver that danced down Fig's spine, a shiver that paradoxically spoke of warmth and pleasure.

With a tentative yet eager exploration, Loraine encircled him with her hand, her fingers weaving through the coarse hair at his groin. She began a slow, deliberate motion, mirroring the rhythm that Fig had set.

Fig sighed in pleasure and slipped two fingers inside her, meeting little resistance thanks to her wetness. Loraine's skin, always cool to the touch, hid the fire burning inside her. Fig's imagination ran wild, visualising the searing heat of Loraine enveloping his member, and with that image etched in his mind, he increased the pace.

Loraine moaned again, this time more loudly. Fig, ever mindful of the need for discretion, moved his hand from her neck to her parted lips.

—Shh… quiet —Fig whispered, sliding into Loraine's ear, a soft but firm command.

Fig revelled in every vibration he was giving her. His fingers quickly grew moist. With a determined gesture, he withdrew his hand to strip her of the last barrier of cloth that separated them. He paused for a moment to admire the work of art that was her body. The scars of that stormy past only made her stronger, and consequently even more beautiful. Fig placed soft kisses on her shoulder, his lips tracing the map of scars and burn marks with a tenderness that bordered on the sacred, letting her know that he loved and admired her deeply.

—I don't deserve such a beautiful creature —he whispered once more in her ear. He knew well how much she needed his flattery.

His words were not merely empty flattery; they were the unvarnished truth. Loraine was the epitome of sweetness and beauty, the likes of which he had never encountered before. Not even Miriam, with all her charms, had possessed such exquisite allure. And though he had loved Miriam, she had never stirred his soul the way Loraine did. She had an uncanny ability to drive him to the brink of madness with desire.

As Loraine began to turn, Fig's hand gently but firmly clasped her neck once more, compelling her to remain as she was.

—Stay still, my love. I wish to take you just like this…

Loraine's breath hitched, a soft growl escaping her lips. She wanted to kiss and caress him, but that position did not allow it. Fig, ever the tease, let out a low chuckle, his lips tracing a path of fire along the tender skin of her neck. His young apprentice was intoxicating, a dangerous addiction he couldn't resist. With a blend of raw passion, he guided himself into her, the warmth of her inviting him into a realm of ecstasy. His free hand wandered, caressing the soft swell of her breast, marveling at their perfection.

—Godric's heart —he exhaled, a sigh of sheer pleasure as he tilted his head back, his voice a husky whisper— So tight, so wet, so hot. My love, being inside you is akin to touching the divine.

Loraine tilted her head to one side, her face was completely flushed, as was her hair which had already begun to change to a fiery red. As was now often the case in their intimate encounters.

—Come on, please —she implored with a playful glint in her eye, her voice laced with a teasing tone that bordered on a challenge— Or are you afraid of hurting your hip?

Her jest danced off her tongue, not merely as a joke but as a dare, a provocation for her mentor to unleash his full vigor. Fig's eyes darkened with a burning desire, a silent promise of what was to come, and he responded with a firm smack to her behind. He was acutely aware of how much she relished taunting him about his age, a game that stoked the fires of their dynamic.

—You little minx... —Fig growled, his voice a low rumble of playful reprimand as he began to thrust into her with renewed force. He closed his eyes, trying to focus. Yet, the challenge was monumental; her body a perfect fit that beckoned him like a siren's call, and resisting the urge to succumb to the overwhelming pleasure was a battle of wills.

Loraine let out a deep groan, her fingers closing instinctively around the first object she found on the desk, which turned out to be a stack of letters Fig had meticulously prepared for the ministry.

—Oh, I'm sorry… Your letters —she whispered in a halting voice— You'll have to… rewrite them…

Fig, however, barely registered the loss. With a low grunt, he lifted her from the floor by her hips and set her on the wooden surface of the desk. The scattered and crumpled letters were no longer of any importance. Consumed by a burning desire, Fig gave himself to the moment with unbridled passion. Loraine, for her part, immersed herself in pleasure, stretching her arms across the desk, surrendering herself completely to the intensity of the moment.

The sounds that filled the room were unmistakable, the echo of unbridled passion. The steady rhythm of Fig's testicles slapping against her broke the silence with obscene rawness. They were supposed to be quiet, but it seemed that was no longer something her mentor cared about.

—They will… listen… to us… —she whispered, her voice trembling, her eyes bright and moist with impending ecstasy. She was on the edge of the abyss.

Fig clenched his jaw. Two more thrusts brought him to his highest peak. The texture of her was a mixture of softness and firmness, a wet, enveloping paradise that claimed him completely. In an impulsive, protective gesture, he brought his hand to Loraine's mouth, stifling the exuberant moans of pleasure, and let himself be carried along by the sweeping current of her climax, releasing himself into her with overwhelming intensity.

They stood like that, united in the stillness of the moment, as Fig struggled to catch his breath, his body still vibrating with the echo of his release. Loraine, with a delicate gesture, pulled Fig's hand away and hid her face in the cascade of her own hair, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. She could feel Fig's scent, warm and thick, swell slightly in her belly.

—Are you all right, my love? —Fig asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern as he brought a hand to his heart. Gently, he brushed aside the strands of hair that fell over Loraine's forehead, clearing the view of her angelic face, now illuminated by the glow of lust. After making love to her she was truly irresistible. He wanted to kiss her, caress her. —…better than ever —Loraine managed to articulate.

Fig's response was immediate; his hands found the softness of Loraine's back, tracing invisible lines that made her shiver and let out an involuntary laugh, a musical sound that floated in the air. Reverently, he placed kisses along her neck and back, tracing a trail of caresses that culminated when he sat up again.

With awkward movements, Fig withdrew from her, his body still trembling from the intensity of their love. He hurried for a towel and, with care and devotion, began to clean her.

—Are you still strong enough to try on the other costume, darling? —Fig teased, a playful smile playing on his lips as he watched Loraine's lovely legs tremble as he helped her clean up. —Clearly I can't pay you a visit before the party —she replied, her voice still dancing to the rhythm of her breathing. With the task completed, Loraine turned and, in one fluid, affectionate movement, wrapped her arms around Fig's neck— I love you, Eleazar.

Fig lost himself in contemplation of her delicate features and felt his eyes moisten slightly, a mixture of disbelief and emotion filling his being. Despite the time that had passed, there were still moments when he found it hard to believe that she, with her light and grace, could love him with such intensity. He stroked her cheek gently and planted a kiss on her forehead, another on her nose, and finally another on her lips. She responded with a broad, radiant smile, a smile that was the purest and most genuine expression of love and happiness. Her small fangs, part of the disguise, still adorned her face. Fig replied in a barely audible whisper.

—I love you too, my little shtriga.

YouTube - TikTok - Ao3 - Wattpad - Poipiku

[kelp-my-beloved]

Most people avoided going to Cogsmeade.

It wasn’t because of the location, though the fact that it was so far away from the rest of the empires did not help. People found their way to Tumble Town just fine, after all, and a few brave tourist could be seen around the Evermore. No, it was more like… a feeling.

It was a creepy place.

Sausage shuddered as he set a foot on the entrance to the bridge, the feeling wasting no time on settling. As he walked to the entrance, his eyes darted towards the structures, some new, some not exactly old, but old enough that they should be at least a little weathered by the pass of time. Roads that should show traces of carts and horses, seats that should be worn down on the most popular spots.

Instead, they looked as perfect as the day they had been built. The only sign that time had passed was the thin layer of dust that seemed to cover everything.

The man from Sanctuary reached the doors that officially separated the empire from the rest of the word, and pushed one open. It took him more effort than he had expected, and it cracked as it gave in, but he crossed it either way. It closed back again as soon as he let go of it, and Sausage realized that there was probably supposed to be some sort of mechanism to hold it open, like a weight on its base, or some sort of roping system.

He couldn’t manage to find any of them. Maybe False had forgotten to install one. Something told him that he was the first person in a long time to open it.

As if to confirm his suspicions, Sausage looked down at his hand, only to find it covered in dust. He shook it off on the side of his pants, hoping to get rid of the nervous energy with it.

The man couldn’t find an explanation as to why he had decided to go through the door. He had an elytra; had arrived by air, in fact. Landing on the other side wouldn’t have taken him more than a second. It was what every emperor did, after all, hence the fact that the door was so out of use.

Because everybody knew that the only ones who ever visited the place were the other emperors, and only did so when they absolutely needed it.

Sausage tried not to let that show. It’s not that he felt specially comfortable in what was basically a ghost town, but it would be rude. Besides, he believed in not judging a person by how creepy the place that they lived was. Even if it looked more like a Halloween’s attraction than a home.

Well, it wasn’t really a ghost town, was it?

It had one habitant.

That did nothing to better the general unease feeling that overcame the visitors. In fact, it almost made it worse. The Great Architect, as she signed her messages, was almost as skittish as the animals that lived around, almost never showing her face unless she absolutely had to. But you could almost feel her eyes on you, as you walked on her lands, even if she wasn’t there. False had a knack for appearing out of nowhere, and it led people to be almost paranoid about the woman’s whereabouts.

The fact that almost everyone had caught her silently watching them from the distance did not help.

So, yeah, False was a cryptid, but Sausage had always been good with unusual creatures. Dolores was proof of that, after all. If he could befriend a warden, he could win over the elusive woman.

Besides, he had a feeling that she could really use a friend. Even if she hadn’t realized that yet.

He continued walking towards False’s base, and as he got closer, the signs of life started to appear. The fields of crops that he had seen even from behind the door, too big for a single person, started to show signs of actually being picked up and replanted towards the edge closer to the mountain. He actually saw a few cows on the giant pasture on the left, just the appropriate amount to substant the habitant of the empire. A cat meowed from the top of a platform.

Sausage had always been more comfortable with animals than people, and even if he had grown out of shyness a long time ago, their presence still gave him some sort of reassurance. And even if the wildlife was still too shy to show itself around, a wild contrast with Sanctuary, the few curious eyes that glared on his direction managed to relax him enough to make him let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

A few chest and barrels were scattered around, this ones with a messier look that spoke of frequent use. Sausage didn’t need to open the ones near the gates to know how empty they were.

The stairs leading towards the doors didn’t creek under his weight, but you could see it was frequently used in the way the dark oak had weathered into a lighter color, showing the path people usually took. Sausage looked at the way his feet instinctually fell on those spots.

It wasn’t light enough for how old the stairs really were, and there were some parts where the light spots abruptly ended, as if someone had taken the effort to replace the planks as their color washed out. He wondered if it really bothered False enough to justify the effort of constantly rebuilding the structure, or if it was simply something to do, a way to fill a day. Sausage was no stranger of working as a way to release nervous energy.

There was another barrel, right next to the door. On it, a few stacks of iron waited next to enchanted books. A paper was hung on the wall behind.

In what he had learnt to recognize as False’s messy writing, the pieces of the items were laid, next to a note indicating how to place an order, for the enchanting books, and how to operate the farm on her balloon, in case you needed more iron than what she had at the moment.

And that was it. No large shop like the one he had on Sanctuary, or mysterious underground structure like the one by Pixlriffs’ place. No even a statue like the ones on the Bridge. Granted, since she put her balloon there, most people didn’t bother to come all the way here.

He took a deep breath. Knocked once. Nobody answered.

“False?” Sausage called after a moment, knocking once more. “It’s me! I was wondering if you had a moment to discuss trading!”

Granted, there wasn’t much to discuss, thanks to her careful labeling system, but he still liked to talk for a while when doing business. Catch up on his friends’ lives, what they had been up to.

Last time they talked, he had gotten involved in some sort of clone, secret spying, undercover agent, kind of situation. Besides, he had gotten himself some good diamonds.

Positive interaction, all around.

He wasn’t sure False got many of those.

“False?” He tried one more time, before giving up. She wasn’t there.

He looked around. He really, really didn’t want to investigate the place on his own, but he felt like it would also be kind of silly to have to make the whole trip another time if False was hanging out on the other side of the river. Or on the iron farm. He looked on its direction. Unlike Hermes, he had never been a fan of floating structures.

Towards the isle it was.

This time he used his elytra to glide across the distance. He didn’t want to cross the bridge, or walk alongside the forest. They would probably be as creepily-perfect as the gate had been, and if you added that to the inexplicably lifeless forest, well. He felt much better flying over.

(He had never seen a single animal roaming the forests of the empires. Hadn’t even heard a bird.

He didn’t want to think of a reason as to why that was)

The island was as perfect as the rest of the empire, maybe even more so. The only vegetation besides grass had been carefully planted by the Architect, the trees attentively nursed until they grew strong enough to fend for themselves. Only their shape, twisted on one direction by the strong winds that seemed to never relent, could be called natural. It was the only part of the town that looked… Alive. Real. Unperfect in the way only life and time could shape.

Sausage walked through the streets, between buildings. They were fully furnished, chairs and tables placed so perfectly that it looked like a picture taken from a magazine. And still, the curtainless windows, the perfectly made beds, they were all details impossible to ignore once you noticed.

He walked faster.

[riley1cannon]

Trick or Treat! Thank you 🎃🎃

Yay, thank you! Here you go, a little bit of a BBC Sherlock/ACD canon mash up fic I started once upon a time, and occasionally think about completing. It was meant to be for Halloween, in fact, with thrills and chills (so I hoped), so it seems appropriate:

Sid sat up straighter and reached for the pile of documents he had deposited on the table among the tea things. “They are, yes. Don’t you see, Dr. Watson, these faux societies modeled themselves after the Société des Corps D'elite. The Société des Corps D'elite is who the Illuminati and all the others aspire to be. Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson,” Sid earnestly appealed to them both, and there was something so authentic in that gravity of manner that Sherlock almost wished he could believe him, “I realize what I’m telling you sounds fantastic but if you would only look at my evidence,”—here came another sheaf of papers, some typed, some handwritten notes, all stapled and clipped together—“you would understand. Here,” he pulled one document free and held it out, “just look at this. It clearly shows the connection between the Society and the Hellfire Club--”

“No.” Sherlock held up a hand to forestall him. He had heard enough now. “No. We have gone from cryptids and sacrificial rites to Spring-Heeled Jack and the Illuminati, and now arrive at Sir Francis Dashwood and the Hellfire Club? No, enough.” He extended a long arm, finger pointed at the door. “Leave, now.”

“Mr. Holmes--” Sid stood and began to gather his papers and books. He dropped some, and then dropped some more as he stooped to retrieve the first batch. “Mr. Holmes, you are making a terrible mistake. This is real. You must look into it.” He continued to implore even as Sherlock escorted him to the door. “Culverton Smith and Grimsby Roylott are the Society’s most treacherous agents but Baron Gruner’s up to his neck as well, and--” He broke off then as though he finally grasped his failure to make a convincing case. Disappointment and a kind of fatalistic resignation crept over his expression as he murmured, “I expected so much more of you, Mr. Holmes.”

Unaccountably stung by that last comment, Sherlock shut the door firmly as Sid Persano took his leave at last. He waited a moment and then crossed quickly to the windows where he plucked aside a curtain to watch as Sid emerged from 221 and stood, hapless and forlorn, on the sidewalk. As John came over to join him, Sherlock asked, “Is this where you tell me that was a bit harsh?”

“Thought that could be taken as read.” John peered out at Baker Street where Sid still lingered, shifting his bundle of papers and books. “He does need help.”

“Consulting detective is not a term synonymous with psychiatrist.”

“And just because someone has an irrational obsession doesn’t mean they can’t be in real danger.”

No, no it didn’t. And Sherlock couldn’t deny that the one thing that had rung crystal clear and authentic throughout the entire interview was that Sid Persano was profoundly afraid.

And because I feel extra generous (and am bemoaning that once again I didn't have anything to post for Halloween), here's a preview of a fic I dearly do want to complete one day:

~Vampires of Gotham~

Klarion the Witch Boy was infuriated...

“Pfft!” He spat at the television screen as the local news carried on with its coverage of Casey Stirling’s appearance in Gotham City tonight. Author of the inexplicably popular Grymwood Chronicles, this Stirling woman was scheduled to do a book signing at the Page Turners book shop where her latest volume of hackneyed paranormal twaddle would make its debut.

Would Eden Cordray, tortured vampire with a soul, finally proclaim her love for dashing adventurer/inventor Ransom Wingate? If she did, how could Eden ever resist the temptation to turn Ransom and keep him at her side forever? What of brooding and beautiful Father Alexi, torn between devotion to God and the charms of that femme fatale of a sorceress, Isidora Thane? Had the twins, Verity and Jack, finally unearthed the truth of who had murdered Professor Farradine two books ago, and why? And could the true mastermind behind everything be quiet and unassuming Cecily Dillane, everyone’s best friend and confidant, keeper of all the secrets?

Not that Klarion cared a whit. He had neither read any of the novels nor watched the equally successful films based upon them. His knowledge had been gathered as he lurked on fan sites filled with endless chatter on these and many other matters. The sheer minutia of these fans’ obsession often came near to driving him mad. To gain some relief, he sometimes responded to their postings anonymously to correct misconceptions about sorcery, vampires, or the djinn, or simply to point out how thoroughly feeble minded they all must be, always in an ultra-supercilious manner so as to guarantee the most dramatic hissyfits and demands that he go be a troll elsewhere.

This amusement had its limits, however, and as he watched the zealous acolytes of Casey Stirling lined up outside the bookstore, many of them costumed so as to mimic a favorite character, Klarion felt a powerful urge to do something far more profound.

 “What eldritch horrors should we unleash upon them?” he murmured as his cat, Teekl, curled itself around his shoulders and purred a suggestion into his ear—a perfectly wonderful, awful idea that made Klarion rub his hands together and smile with a glow of pure malevolence. “Yes,” he said as he warmed to it. “They dote upon these romantic incarnations of supernatural terrors but how would it be, eh, if the real thing walked among them?” This could make for glorious mischief indeed!

 “Come, Teekl, we have work to do…”

 ~*~

“Spoilers, Master Timothy,” Alfred warned as the boy persisted in skimming through The Necromancer’s Notebook. “We shall uncover its secrets soon enough,” he added and hefted his own copy as they edged ever closer to the front of the line.

Tim closed the book with noticeable reluctance. “I know I’m right about Cecily,” he said.

“We shall see.” 

Tim flipped to the back of his copy again, this time to check the page count. “Eight hundred and seventy-five… You know I can’t go online again until I’ve read the whole thing,” he said, a fretful note in his young voice.

“We shall apply our best efforts to the endeavor, never fear.” Where some books with such an inflated page count could easily be trimmed by at least a third and be none the worse for it, Miss Stirling was the rare author who truly delivered what was commonly known as bang for the buck. Alfred would not find it a chore to keep pace with Tim’s literary marathon.

“I still think you should have dressed up,” Tim said as he tugged at the collar of his own neat cassock, a twin to the one worn by the tortured priest, Alexi. “With your chauffeur's livery and a really cool pair of goggles you’d be just like Zedekiah Zane.”

Alfred appreciated the comment. Zedekiah was, after all, the most trusted confidante of Ransom Wingate. “Alas, I fear my cosplay days are long behind me, Master Timothy,” Alfred said and cast a look about at the colorful array of steampunk gothic adventurers, vampires, scholars, sorcerors, and others too numerous to catalog, “Besides, this family dresses up quite enough as it is.”

[cannibal-nightmares]

For the ask game, 9, 10, & 34 !!

from this ask game!

9 - Tell a story from your childhood.

I'll admit, this ask sat in my inbox because of this question. I've realized I remember mostly only snippets and themes and flashes from my childhood, and I think I've taken the word "story" too seriously in this context; the actual "stories" that remain are either that of horror, or teenage mischief (in which I am not about to be a bad influence on the internet heheh), some of which I would need help from my friends to recall in detail. I tried to maybe find my old photos of when I dressed up as Crona for Halloween when I was about 12 years old, but they must be on my old computer. (For the record, I don't remember that Halloween, I just know it happened. My two best friends dressed up as Medusa and Eruka.) My memories seem to be that of a zoetrope with a lot of the frames cut out; don't get me wrong, I spin them, still, all the same, but I must say it took me a whole month to think up of something to answer with...

Let's see, how do I start this story... I suppose I should preface that I was a bit of an anarchist in high school, in the ways that I could be. An example of which, with the help of some friends, we started two clubs, one of which was an under-the-table incognito after-hours ordeal that was meant for queer kids to have a space with like-peers--especially if their homes were unsupportive and unsafe--and the second was the art club. Now, an "art club" may seem pretty standard, but it was more or less based around a similar idea to the former ^^; But the reason I am describing all of this is because the art club--being comprised of a bunch of other-minded LGBT and ally kids--simply didn't want to (or couldn't, due to their idenities) go to prom. Sooo, instead, we organized a trip to Volcom (RIP), an art studio, an outdoor art museum, and--the headlining event--the graffiti park (also RIP). The graffiti park was just as it sounds: Tiered rows of walls where the public could just come by to make art. We all dressed up in thrifted formal wear (yknow, stuff we could get paint on, dresses and button ups) and played around with spray paint for the afternoon. I caught a glimpse of what makes Austin TX that day as a guy sat at the foot of the hill with a typewriter--you could pay or trade him anything to have him write you a poem (I didn't get a poem from him, but I did get one from an artist last year ^^), and... A guy and his friends who spotted my buttons. He asked if I wanted to trade pins with him. Being a kid, I cautiously declined, but he departed with words I still hold very close to me to this day:

"Peace, love, and anarchy."

10. Would you say you're an emotional person?

This is a fascinating question because I have no idea how to answer it. When you initially sent this, I paced around about it until I got tired. I feel inclined to say "Yes, undeniably," and simultaneously "absolutely not." I'm mentioned before that I'm schizoaffective--one part schizophrenic, one part bipolar--but, I'll admit, the latter has hard for me to get my head wrapped around and conceptualize, I've only very recently have been able to observe and acknowledge when more intense emotions come and go, arrive and vanish without notice. But this is just the thing, right? Observation? I don't know how not to compartmentalize my emotions, so while I might feel something intensely, I sincerely don't know how to express it in a way that's adequate (or "appropriate"), so oftentimes I just don't. Or I get ahead of myself and know I am going to feel completely different--and very starkly so--so my subconscious tries to constantly find a middle ground to rectify future confusion for anyone else involved, or to mitigate the damage of whiplash. How do I explain this? It's hard to excite me, but very easy to interest me, and I often worry that discourages folks sometimes because I tend to have a flat affect about things. "Mania vs happiness" is a very new concept I've been trying to untangle and decode within myself, too. For whatever it's worth, the only emotion I have a firm grasp on is rage--nothing makes me more level-headed and laser-focused than pristine anger, hahaha, and, really, I don't know why. Am I emotional? I don't know. I guess on paper, at least, I am. I come upon social situations and obstacles and I can't help but break them all down to fact and observation. A sort of disorganized tidbit here, but, too, if anything, I struggle to name the emotions I do feel; when people ask how I am, I don't know how to answer other than describing whatever activity I'm doing or project I'm neck-deep in. With both constant compartmentalization and a broken affect (either generally flat or I can't stop grinning about nothing), it's hard for me to pin it down. Perhaps I should ask for an outside perspective... I hope this starts to answer your question.

34. Any pet peeves?

I could ramble on about how much I can't stand small talk from strangers or when my colleagues use work-specific lingo in trying to communicate with patrons, but I've got one better: It blows my mind (/neg) when people seemingly don't have a shred of curiosity about anything. Nothing? Really? NOTHING is fascinating? Okay, yeah, maybe plants are boring to the next guy and maybe they don't care about how the cogs in a machine work, but when I drop a foreign word at work or a patron comes in with a wacky hat or we watch birds court on the sidewalk or we hear a questionable factoid on the news and nothing makes you go, at the very least, "huh..." ??? Rocks my world in a bad way. And I'm not talking about someone with low energy or someone who has a hard time focusing to absorb these kinds of things, I'm talking about "Hey, do you ever wonder--" "No." WHAT. Nothing at all? And curiosity doesn't have to be factual, "why does the moon revolve around the earth?" it doesn't have to be social, "What's your favoruite color?" Curiosity can be dragging a pen across paper just to watch a line appear; so when someone has absolutely no fascination? Maybe it's just something I don't understand. Tell me, AITA? Curiosity is the only thing that keeps me sane, I swear by it.

Thank you so much for the asks and for your patience. ^^

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL Halloween Short Fic) Candæmonium

Date: October 29th 20xx

Springfield exhaled in satisfaction, knowing that today was a job well done. The cafe was decorated in cute Halloween decorations that was sure to get everyone in the appropriate holiday mood.

She turned her gaze to G36 who had finished washing the dishes for the night, still dressed in her butler outfit. Even though they still had a full day before Halloween actually happened, Springfield had wanted the Cafe staff to dress early to get into spirit.

Springfield adjusted her witch hat and walked over to the counter, sitting down as caught G36's attention.

(Springfield) "Tomorrow is going to be quite busy..."

(G36) "Do you think we'll have enough candy to pass out?"

(Springfield) "This year? Hm. It's hard to say. We've had so many new members join Griffin as of late."

Before the Commander arrived, the base was very isolated and quiet. Ever since his arrival, things became hectic very quickly. New T-Dolls were joining left and right, including some from other companies like Task Force DEFY. But it was a blessing. It just meant their family could grow even bigger.

But due to that increase in personnel, supplies had to be ordered in bulk, much larger than before. Especially when it came to the recreational supplies. Which meant it was easier for things to go wrong.

G36 was reminded when the Valentines' chocolates had all been eaten, sending the Commander on a sleepless 8 hour odyssey to make sure a civil war didn't erupt within Griffin.

Before they could reminisce too much, Springfield suddenly received a call.

(Springfield) "Commander? Good evening, is something the ma-"

[Commander's Voice] "S-SPRINGFIELD! I NEED YOUR HELP!"

Springfield's smile quickly vanished as she stood up, nodding at G36, who's scowl seemed to intensify.

(Springfield) "Sir, what's the matter?"

[Commander's Voice] "The Halloween candy is in peril, bring your gun, I'll explain more when you get here, sending the coordinates!"

(Springfield) "Understood!"

Quickly rushing to the armory, Springfield grabbed her rifle and checked her ammunition as G36 did the same. The duo did not have time to change their clothes as they immediately rushed through the snow.

They stopped and stared at their former Storage facility, it now looked like a terrifying demonic castle. As if it had leapt out of a fairy tale and into their base, complete with dangling hooked chains, spiked gates, and a dark purple aura surrounding the base.

(Springfield) "Wha...What is going on...?!"

(Kalina's Voice) "Springfield! G36!"

The Commander and Kalina quickly rushed over to them, almost out of breath as they smiled at the sight of their comrades.

(G36) "Master, Kalina. What happened?"

(Commander) "Oh my god, where do we even start...? W-Well, Kalina had made the suggestion to make a machine to safeguard the candy-"

(Springfield) "Sir, could you not have asked one of the girls to do so?"

(Kalina) "Well, we did try. We asked DEFY, AR, and 404."

===

(AN-94) "...Sir, this is a grievous misuse of assets to ask DEFY to watch over sweets."

(RPK-16) "It would be kind of fun-"

(AK-15) "No."

===

(M4A1) "Commander, I do appreciate you trusting us, but I'm afraid SOPMOD might ravage the candy like an animal."

(RO635) "Might? You mean will."

===

(UMP45) "I think G11 would fall asleep and drool over the candy."

(G11) "Probably."

===

(G36) "...Surely there are more qualified people to ask, Master-"

(Commander) "ALRIGHT, putting that aside, we decided to make a machine that could protect the candy at least until tomorrow night so we could distribute it!"

(Springfield) "You can make machines?"

(Kalina) "Well, we actually asked Persica to help out, and it worked!...U-Until I think I installed the wrong program on it."

(Commander) "It went absolutely ballistic, and constructed what you see behind us. It failed to recognize us as its creators, and is now guarding the candy in this huge prison."

Springfield and G36 stared at the sheer magnitude of the 'prison' with a mixture of awe and dread. Which was probably intentional.

(Springfield) "And...how long ago was this?"

(Kalina) "What time is it?"

(Springfield) "8:30."

(Kalina) "An hour ago."

(G36) "Excuse me?"

(Commander) "Truth be told, Kalina and I were watching it happen in real time, and I think we were too dumbstruck to actually move...Still kind of am, to be honest."

(Kalina) "This'll make a great piece for Halloween, so I don't think we reaaaally need a reason to take it down-"

(G36) "That is essentially broadcasting our location to the entirety of the world."

(Commander) "True, but you didn't even notice it until you got close, right? There's windows all over the damn place and yet no one but us has been out here to check out the giant demon castle."

(G36) "...Point taken, Master."

(Kalina) "Anyways, we called on you two because we can't trust anyone else!"

(G36) "...But you only called for Springfi-"

(Commander) "Which is why we're glad you're here too, G36."

G36 chose not to say anything else as Springfield cleared her throat.

(Springfield) "Leave it to us, Commander! We'll be back out in a few moments!"

(Kalina) "Be careful, we didn't install any weapons on it, but be prepared just in case!"

The two T-Dolls nodded and went into the building, combat modes activated and ready for any trouble.

...

Though it was pitch black inside, they had no trouble moving through the seemingly empty facility. It looked like the outside decorations were just for show, given the lack of anything remotely threatening in the hallways.

Springfield and G36 had their fingers on the trigger, their footsteps making the only sound inside.

(Springfield) "...I don't like this."

(G36) "Agreed. It is far too quiet."

The warehouse was large enough to contain several shipping containers, vehicles, and more, but in the darkness, it seemed like they had entered an abyss.

(G36) "What happened to all the equipment that was here beforehand?"

(Springfield) "My scanners aren't detecting anything. You don't think-?"

BZZZRRRRRT!

The T-Dolls immediately swung their weapons towards the source of the noise, only to realize the intercom had turned on.

"Observation: So, my creators have sent the defects to take my place?"

The completely monotone robotic voice caught them off guard, but it immediately made the two look around for anything that could possibly see them or pose a threat.

(G36) "Defects?!"

G36's scowl intensified as she tried to scan for the speaker's origin, ready to open fire on any attacker all the while.

(Springfield) "Who is speaking right now?"

"Reply: I am CK-47. The superior model to be defending the candy from the likes of you."

(Springfield) "Hmph. There is no AI more superior than a T-Doll, especially Griffin's."

"Incorrect. My programming is superior. Yours, is inferior. Any who attempt to steal the candy designated for the personnel of Griffin is to be eradicated."

(G36) "Eradicated? That's far too extreme for just candy!"

"It is the mission I was created for. Your very presence here is proof that the candy is in danger-"

(Springfield) "What? We're here to rescue the candy you stole!"

"I am acting upon my creators' orders. The candy is to be defended at all costs from T-Dolls."

(G36) "Until Halloween, which is tomorrow!"

"Negative. It is to be defended at all costs."

(Springfield) "Tch, this is getting nowhere. Reveal yourself this instant!"

"Mocking statement: Very well, I will do so."

Suddenly, the lights in the warehouse flickered on. Springfield and G36 stood in the middle of a large open area, hooks and chains dangling from the ceiling.

A quadrupedal machine burst from the walls, concrete and debris shooting outwards. The T-Dolls dove for cover as the building violently shook.

The machine had one pink monoeye blinking rapidly from its a circular black visor. Four arms, each holding a different weapon ranging from Gatling guns to a massive serrated sword.

It stood about seven meters tall, towering over the T-Dolls as it marched closer to them.

(G36) "P-Persica made this thing to defend candy?!"

(Springfield) "We're having a discussion with Kalina and the Commander after this..."

"Defiant statement: There is nothing you can possibly do to harm me! DO YOUR WORST."

Emerging from cover, G36 immediately unleashed a volley of concentrated fire at the legs, which ricocheted off.

The machine stomped its legs, rattling the hooks above them. G36 heard the sound of steel screeching and looked upwards, realizing they were coming loose and about to fall. She rolled out the way as it fell to the ground, crashing with a loud thud and denting the concrete floors.

"Observation: Your puny weapons cannot dent my impenetrable armor!"

Springfield aimed her rifle at the eye of the machine and pulled the trigger, a single shot echoing throughout the warehouse.

The bullet lodged itself into its visor, cracking it and making the machine stagger backwards. The arms flailed wildly as the swords rended apart the walls and its guns shot in every direction.

"Pained statement: GAH, MY ARMOR! MY MINIONS, GET THEM!"

(Springfield) "Minions-?"

Before she could process what was happening a swarm of small flying round robots with wings suddenly rushed her, compromising her position as she was being driven back.

(Springfield) "B-BATS!"

(G36) "How did this thing even make all this in an hour!?"

G36 rushed to help Springfield before a single foot almost crushed her, forcing G36 to stop in her tracks and look at her attacker.

Without missing a beat, she immediately grabbed onto its leg and started climbing the machine, dodging its arms that were trying to swat her off.

"Disgusted statement: Get off of me!"

G36 simply adjusted her glasses as her suit elegantly remained in place, quickly crouching and leaping over the sword and bullets aiming for her.

Springfield's witch outift was amazingly not getting torn apart by the bat-like drones, instead they just kept hitting her over and over in the face with their sheer weight.

(Springfield) "Q-Quit it already!"

If she were human, she'd likely have a concussion by now. But being a fellow machine, it was just simply irritating.

"Angry observation: STOP ATTACKING HER AND ASSIST ME!"

The bats obeyed their master and quickly rushed G36, knocking Springfield into a rather large box.

G36 had finished climbing onto the top of the machine and was about to unleash the rest of her ammunition into its eyes before she was taken down by the bats, all of them swarming her and sending her crashing onto the ground, her weapon tumbling onto the ground and far away.

Finally, the machine aimed its weapon at G36 as the bat swarm circled menacingly around it. The machine looked more like a demon than an industrial piece of hardware.

"Relief: Finally. Now there will be no more T-Dolls to chase after the candy once I am done with you...!"

(Springfield) "Is that right? Well, this witch's spell says otherwise!"

The machine turned around to the direction of her voice as G36 slowly stood up. Her eyes went wide as she immediately ducked for cover.

"Retort: Impossible. Magic does not exi-...Oh no-"

Springfield pulled the trigger on a cutely decorated rocket launcher, the smoke immediately enveloped her as the rocket sped towards the eye.

One shot was all it took for it to come tumbling down, sparking violently as the bats all ceased to function and dropped onto the ground. The chains rattled as the force of the explosion blew a wind across the facility, causing countless amounts of them to begin falling.

Springfield ran and grabbed her rifle as G36 waited for her to catch up, the two T-Dolls running through the hole the machine had created as the warehouse came crashing down.

The two did not need to actually breathe, yet they were still breathing heavily as the warehouse collapsed into the snow, creating a small dust storm.

(Springfield) "P-Perhaps that was not my greatest idea."

(G36) "The machine is dead, that's all that matters now. But where is the candy?"

They remained silent as they looked back at the destroyed warehouse. Countless spikes protruded from the ruins, even in death it still looked unbelievably sinister.

(Springfield) "...Oh dear."

(G36) "It was inside the warehouse, wasn't it?"

(Springfield) "..."

...

(Commander) "T-The candy is all gone...?"

(G36) "Unfortunately we were not able to retrieve it Master. Also, you told us that the machine was not equipped with weapons."

(Kalina) "Did it find any?"

(Springfield) "Miniguns and swords, yes. Why on earth did you make a machine that large to defend candy if I can ask, Commander?"

(Commander) "W-Well, we wanted to make sure someone like SPAS couldn't just bust in and bully the machinery."

(G36) "...Next time you can simply ask us to help out, Master. Constructing such a death machine is inadvisable. Though it is admirable it managed to convert the warehouse into a prison so quickly."

(Kalina) "So um...C-Can you help us buy some new candy?"

(Commander) "Is there even enough candy in the town to help out with that?"

(Springfield) "I suppose we'll find out..."

The four walked off as the construction drones came to clear off the debris. But what they failed to notice was a singular bat drone had emerged from the debris and flew away...

[dawnrider]

Hey there love! Here for the ask game. ☺️

💋✨❌🙋‍♀️👀

Hi @heynikkiyousofine! Fanfic Writers Emoji Asks 💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em? Love love love em! The dynamics that lead up to a first kiss are so much fun to read and to write!

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Woof... Um... I think my writing can do a good job of conveying emotion to the reader? At least that's what I gather from reader comments. And I tend to hear that my characterizations are pretty on point, which is a pretty awesome compliment in my opinion.

❌ What’s a trope you will never write? I hate to say NEVER, but probably truly dark non-con. It's just not within my capabilities and I would struggle with it too hard to even attempt it.

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

My husband, my therapist, and most recently my best friend of almost 25 years. She was shocked I had managed to keep it a secret from her for 20 years. 😂

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Hm... Let's see. I have... too many. lol I'm working on my @inu-spiration Halloween Reverse Bang piece, which is beating me up. It's over 18k words now and not as close to done as I would like... But I can't reveal details about that one yet. I CAN talk about the fact that I've been working on the next chapters of both How Does Your Garden Grow? and Your Lying Smile.

I'm also working on the next chapter of By Rights, but that won't go up until @inuparentsday in January. For funsies, here's a snippet of that! (Under the cut for spoilers)

Dinner was uncomfortable at best. Touga tried to simultaneously watch his "rival" and act as though he had no interest in him whatsoever. It was more challenging than one might think. Subtly was not really his forte and neither was small talk. He could make pleasantries when needed — and conversation with someone he wanted to speak with was fine — but pretending to be cordial with two men he would much prefer to punch in the face was pushing his limits. Izayoi’s father was making a point to inflate Takemaru’s ego – as if the man needed any more arrogance – and trying to make Izayoi see his many advantages as a husband. Were he not able to catch her scent, he would know from the look in her eyes alone that she was only more and more disgusted with the whole situation as the meal progressed. He too was becoming increasingly frustrated with the flagrant favoritism and ego-stroking. But he held his tongue and simply spoke to Izayoi when appropriate, or commented on “how impressive” the new lordling’s holdings were. “Izayoi, my dear,” Takemaru crooned in a saccharine tone. “The kitchen staff cannot wait to make this for you when you arrive.” He waved a hand and a highly anxious server sidled up next to her with a small platter with some kind of sweet on it. A pastry of some kind, it appeared, filled with something. He could smell it from where he sat, but couldn’t identify the ingredients. “Exotic chocolate from trading with the islands.” “It looks very nice,” she spoke politely to the server, “but I am so full from our delicious meal, I couldn’t possibly eat another bite.” Touga bit his lip to hold back a smirk. She’d hardly touched her food, sneaking what she could get away with to her father’s dogs under the table. He didn’t like that she wasn’t eating, but he understood her lack of appetite. Even he felt the lingering “wrongness” in the air and it was unsettling to him. He hadn’t anticipated that Izayoi would be able to sense it – her father certainly didn’t seem to – but she was noticeably antsy in a way he was not used to seeing in her. She definitely never acted that way in his presence.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Kingdom Hearts II: Final Mix Recap!: Halloween Town (What's This?)

Okay so uh… I know it’s been about a year since my last KH recap, but uh…

I just got hit with inspiration because the point I left off on was conveniently appropriate for this time of year…

Anyways, to recap: Last time, we went through a loose Adaptation of the Return of Jafar, followed by Axel attempting to kidnap Kairi as Twilight Town reappeared on the World Map. Now, we’re going to the OTHER world that was unlocked after beating Port Royal INSTEAD of progressing the main story!

In order to get to the other world, you first need to pass through the Broken Highway Gummi Route.

Broken Highway is  similar to Ancient Highway, except it’s a lot more compact, and there are large gaps between the “street” segments.

The scenery is far more red, with the background being an orange sky, like a star was turned inside out and wrapped around this weird debris field.

Other than that, it plays pretty similarly to Ancient Highway.

Clearing Broken Highway unlocks Halloween Town.

Disembarking has a cutscene where Jack Skellington and Zero stumble upon some trees in the Hinterlands with doors on them: One shaped like a heart, one shaped like an easter egg, one shaped like a turkey, one shaped like a four-leaf clover, and one shaped like a firecracker.

In the center of the clearing, however, is a tree with a door shaped like a Christmas Tree.

Jack gets curious, turns the doorknob, opens it, and falls right in as snow blows out.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy arrive in Halloween Town’s graveyard (sporting their iconic Halloween Town forms), walk right up to the scarecrow under the sign, only for Donald and Goofy to discover something:

Someone strung up Christmas Lights.

Zero flies by, much to Sora’s excitement, and heads into town.

There are treasure chests around the graveyard, but be warned: The massive tombstones that were added in this game WILL topple over and fall on you if you walk in front of them.

Progressing into Halloween Town Square reveals that the entire town has been covered in Halloween-themed Christmas decorations.

Jack Skellington, meanwhile swoops down on a coffin-turned-sleigh, pulled by skeleton reindeer.

He excitedly welcomes Sora, Donald, and Goofy back, and wishes them a Merry Christmas.

“‘Merry Christmas?’” Sora replies, “Don’t you mean ‘Happy Halloween’?”

“Of course,” Jack corrects, “Halloween greetings from Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King!”

He apologizes for the confusion, he’s been in a Christmas mood lately.

He intends to “run the show again” this year, but he needs “Sandy Claws’s” permission to do so, so he’s gonna be heading to Christmas Town.

Sora’s confused as to who “Sandy Claws” is, but Goofy suggests Jack’s talking about Santa Claus (The Nightmare Before Christmas).

Jack goes on to explain that the decorations are so Halloween Town can handle Christmas as well, but first they have to pay Sally a visit. She’s working on something no self-respecting Santa can go without.

He heads off as Sora ponders what a Halloween Town Christmas would be like.

Donald and Goofy are spooked by the creepy “toys”, the guillotine, and the ghostly giggle Jack’s reindeer let out, while Sora seems to be pretty excited by the prospect.

Jack beckons them to hurry, and the Junior Heroes follow him.

Meanwhile, in Dr. Finkelstein’s lab, the “good” doctor is reading a book while Lock, Shock, and Barrel are carrying a metal thing with a wheel on the bottom (this is apparently an actual prop from the movie, but I couldn’t tell you which scene it was from).

Jack cheerfully greets Finkelstein and asks where Sally is. Finkelstein just tells Jack that he’s in the middle of an experiment and wheels over to the table, where a bunch of props from the movie (including the funnel/slide leading to Oogie’s lair).

Lock, Shock, and Barrel decide that the prop is too heavy and that they need to throw it.

Finkelstein warns them not to, but “Boogie’s Boys” throw it anyway, causing it to spark and ignite a fiery explosion, before running out giggling past Sally.

Whatever Jack had Sally working on isn’t ready yet, but he doesn’t really mind as long as it’s ready in time for Christmas.

Sally tries to talk some sense into Jack, only for him to walk out to go get “Sandy Claws”.

Sora seems excited at the idea.

Sally talks to Sora, hoping he’ll be able to talk some sense into Jack, but Sora’s kinda spaced out at the idea of meeting Santa.

Jack steps back into the lab, asking if the “strange fellows in the town square” are with Sora, Donald, and Goofy.

“Huh? What fellows?” Sora asks.

“You know, the ones who wanted to spoil Halloween AND Christmas?” Jack elaborates, “What are they called again… Heartless?”

“They’re DEFINITELY not with us,” Sora answers, “But Donald, Goofy, and I can get rid of them for you.” He grins. “And then, we can go see Santa!”

Donald taps his foot and gives Sora a Look.

“But first, the Heartless!” Sora reinforces.

JACK SKELLINGTON HAS JOINED THE PARTY!

Jack’s “weapon” would be his fists, so his regular combat moves are just punches and kicks.

However, he can also cast three spells (all returning from the first game):

Blazing Fury: Spends 10 MP to engulf himself in flames and chase down the enemy.

Icy Terror: Spends 10 MP to form an icy crystal that will home in on a single target and deal damage while lifting it into the air.

Bolts of Sorrow: Spends 10 MP to rain lightning bolts down on the target.

He also has the following Support Abilities:

Lucky Lucky: Increases Drop Rate of Items.

Fire Boost: Increases Fire damage dealt by 20%.

Blizzard Boost: Increases Blizzard damage dealt by 20%.

Thunder Boost: Increases Thunder damage dealt by 20%.

Auto Limit: Automatically produces Reaction Command for Jack’s Limit, if said Limit is usable.

Auto Healing: Restores HP when replaced by a Party Member with Change.

His Limit is Applause, Applause.

It is initiated with “Dance Call”, which causes Sora and Jack to spin together like a top, dealing damage to all enemies they collide with. After this, they alternate between the following two attacks in the Reaction Command and Attack Slots:

Downbeat: Jack shoots out ghosts from the top of the formation while Sora fires bats from the bottom.

Synchronization: Sora and Jack swap both positions and projectiles.

After five alterations, the finishing move becomes available: Finale. The duo summon powerful ghosts and bats to surround them, Jack throws Sora into the air, and Sora releases sparklers when he hits the ground.

Like all Limits, there is an option replacing the Command Menu’s Limit option to Stop it early.

There’s a large chest in Finkelstein’s lab that holds the map to Halloween Town.

Outside, the mayor tries to get the Heartless to leave, but they’re not interested in listening to an elected official.

Regardless, the battle begins as soon as you step outside, with the Wight Knights you’d expect if you played the first game.

The Guillotine, however, will drop and damage you if you step under it. There are also sewer grates that’ll launch you into the air with a spurt of burning hot slime if you walk over them. If you step to close to the gates with presents behind them, they’ll swing open to swat you away. Basically, Halloween Town’s gimmick is “environmental hazards”, so watch where you step.

Regardless, Jack is seriously annoyed by the Heartless presence, because how is “Sandy Claws” supposed to relax with the Heartless running amok and causing problems?

Thus, he decides that Sora, Donald, and Goofy should be Santa’s bodyguards, much to Sora’s and Goofy’s delight and Donald’s dismay.

Meanwhile, Lock, Shock, and Barrel are riding their weird bathtub thing through the woods, pondering and debating what they should take back next time, only to run right into Maleficent.

They don’t really have much respect for Maleficent, but she nonetheless orders them to be silent after they insult her. They don’t seem to be familiar with her, so she briefly displays her powers to intimidate them into submission.

“Hmm… Perhaps you three could be of use to me,” she muses as Lock, Shock, and Barrel cower before her, “Come along, all of you. I’ll show you the true meaning of ‘mischief.’”

Jack, meanwhile, has decided to lead the way to Christmas Town. It’s through the woods, past the graveyard.

Regardless, you need to leave town to go back to the Graveyard in order to go uphill and towards the Hinterlands. There, all of your party members become NPC’s you can talk to, with Jack walking near the Christmas Tree door.

Upon using the “???” Reaction Command at the door, a cutscene starts, where Jack presents the door to Christmas Town.

“The spooks of Halloween can get so tiresome year after year. I wanted something new,” Jack explains, “And I found this!”

Jack describes how wonderous and exciting his first (accidental) trip to Christmas Town had been as the camera slowly zooms in on Sora’s eager face.

“C’mon! Just open it!” Sora shouts with a grin on his face.

Jack smiles and opens the door, allowing Sora to run up and jump in.

Donald and Goofy run up and peer down after him, before basically shrugging it off and jumping right in, leading to a recreation of the iconic first transition from Halloween Town to Christmas Town, just with Sora, Donald, and Goofy. And also the iconic “Goofy holler”.

(Note: The YouTuber I’m using to refresh my memory put in the “You, you’re finally awake.” Meme here after the fade to black.)

On the other side of the drop is a pine tree in a snowy landscape, a jack-o-lantern of pure light hovering in front of it.

The jack-o-lantern spits out Sora, who’s now dressed like a gothic, vampire Santa Claus, complete with his bat mask turning into a Santa hat.

Donald comes out next, having transformed into a snowman with a bucket on his head.

Goofy comes out last, now a reindeer with a blinking red nose.

Sora shoves Donald and Goofy off of him so he can appreciate the view of Christmas Town, Donald and Goofy joining him.

Donald asks Jack (who casually walks from the tree, having gotten the hang of travel between these realms ages ago) points the way to Santa’s workshop.

Welcome to Yuletide Hill.

In Kingdom Hearts II, Christmas Town reused Halloween Town’s music.

In Final Mix, “This is Halloween” is replaced with “What a Surprise?!” and “Spooks of Halloween Town” is replaced with “Happy Holidays!” while you are in Christmas Town.

Unlike Timeless River, Christmas Town is not treated as its own distinct world.

Here, you have access to a Save Point and Gumo’s Moogle Shop.

Gumo’s Shop adds the Technician’s Ring, Aquamarine Ring, and Platinum Ring to the inventory.

Walking into the jack-o-lantern will teleport you back to the Hinterlands.

Jack Skellington’s outfit has not changed.

Travelling into town will take you to Candy Cane Lane, a faithful rendition of how Christmas Town appeared in the movie, complete with a merry-go-round/carousel in the middle of town. Well, mostly faithful. There’s a large, green gate off to the side that wasn’t in the movie.

Unfortunately, as soon as our Junior Heroes arrive, they are jumped by some Christmas-themed Heartless.

As this battle is part of the story, you cannot progress until every last one falls.

You can use the “Spin” reaction command on the carousel to deal damage to nearby Heartless by making it, well, spin.

There’s also a new Heartless introduced here: The Toy Soldier.

It’s a Jack-in-the-Box, but the puppet inside switches from a traditional toy soldier to a jack-o-lantern on a spring. The toy soldier has a gun, while the pumpkin specializes in melee (I think). This makes it a hybrid of the two holidays this world encompasses.

After the last Heartless falls, we get another cutscene.

“Christmas is in big trouble,” Donald observes.

“Gawrsh, we can’t let anything bad happen to Christmas,” Goofy declares.

Jack walks up to Sora and points at the largest building.

“That’s where Sandy Claws lives.”

You are now free to explore Candy Cane Lane, but must enter Santa’s House to progress the story.

Santa is busy in his study, checking his list.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy are awed to stand in his presence, while Santa greets them, and asks if they want to know if they’re on his “nice” list.

The three approach Santa in response.

“You’re name?”

“Uh, Sora sir!”

“Let’s see… Sora…” Santa checks his list, “Here you are.”

He looks up to see Sora’s eager smile.

“Well, according to my list, Sora, seven years ago you told everyone you did not believe in Santa Claus,” Santa reveals, “Oh, that is unfortunate.”

Sora is understandably distraught.

“How about Donald and Goofy?” Donald asks.

Santa affirms that both of them are on his nice list.

“Am I on your list too, by any chance?” Jack asks, “It’s me, Jack!”

“Jack Skellington?!”

Something breaks in Santa’s workshop, causing him to drop his list as the camera ominously pans over to the door.

“What trouble did you bring this time?!?” Santa asks as he stomps over to the door to his workshop.

“This time?” Sora asks.

“It’s a long story!” Jack answers.

(Note: The events of “The Nightmare Before Christmas” were not adapted into the one game to take place between this one and Chain of Memories, meaning we will likely never see how the events of that movie unfolded without Oogie Boogie’s involvement.)

However, you can find a large treasure chest that holds the Christmas Town Map in this room, so not all is lost. There are also some elves (Nightmare Before Christmas) for you to speak with, if you so choose. They provide some worldbuilding for you.

Walking deeper into Santa’s House will take you to the Shipping and Receiving portion of the Toy Factory.

Just out of view of our Junior Heroes (and Santa Claus) on the upper floor, Maleficent is watching the proceedings with Lock, Shock, and Barrel. She’s pleased to see that Jack brought Sora and his friends with him.

“Now we can deal with all of them at once.”

Shock asks what Maleficent wants them to do, which Santa overhears.

“Who’s there?”

“Busted!” Lock, Shock, and Barrel chorus. Maleficent teleports away while “Boogie’s Boys” leap out a window.

Jack identifies them.

“Not those three…” Santa groans.

Jack assures Santa they weren’t with him.

“Well, whatever the case, they’ve been quite naughty,” Santa replies, “Catch them and bring them back here. They’re going to get a lecture!”

Jack tries to talk to Santa about Christmas, but Santa’s a bit too busy for idle chit-chat at the moment.

Sora reminds him that they gotta catch Lock, Shock, and Barrel still, and Jack reluctantly drops the topic for now.

Outside of Santa’s House, the Bathtub’s footprints are visible, leading back to Halloween Town.

You’ll now be periodically jumped by Christmas and Halloween-themed Heartless, and every now and then you can (optionally) examine the trail with a Reaction Command to see a dialog box narrate what is implied to be Sora’s internal thoughts.

The trail continues through the Hinterlands, leading to the Graveyard.

Upon arriving in the graveyard, a cutscene begins, showing Maleficent and Oogie Boogie’s minions gathered at Curly Hill.

Maleficent had been looking forward to destroying Christmas Town,

“But now that Sora and those imbeciles are here I think a change of plans is called for,” she remarks, “Revenge before pleasure, after all.”

Lock, Shock, and Barrel are on board with Maleficent’s kind of revenge (due to it being on Oogie Boogie’s level of “bad’), revealing to Maleficent that the three of them know her lacky.

“And where might I find him?” she questions.

“Jack and his dumb, stupid friends destroyed him!” Shock reveals.

“Ah yes, now I remember,” Maleficent replies, “More intriguing still. I believe I’ll bring your master back for you.”

Lock, Shock, and Barrel cackle as Maleficent starts using her magic powers.

The bathtubs footprints lead through the Graveyard and through a now-open gate that leads to Curly Hill.

A resurrected Oogie Boogie laughs.

“I feel like a million bugs!” he declares, “I really owe you one for this, Maleficent.”

“Indeed you do, Oogie,” Maleficent replies, “Do you remember Sora, Donald, and Goofy?”

Oogie Boogie declares that he’ll never forget what they did to him.

“What was it that they did to me?”

“Squashed you like a bug!” Shock shouts.

“That sounds bad.”

“And Jack helped,” Lock adds.

“Even worse!”

“They creamed ya!” Barrel adds in.

“That’s right! That’s right!” Oogie declares, “That’s one thing I won’t be forgetting any time soon! It’s the last thing I remember. And it’s the only thing I’ll remember until I teach those clowns not to mess with Mr. Oogie Boogie!”

Maleficent is pleased with Oogie’s enthusiasm, and tells him she already has a plan in mind, asking him if he’s ever heard of Christmas Town.

Unfortunately for her, Oogie’s already passed out.

Maleficent, realizing Oogie needs more time to recover, orders Lock, Shock, and Barrel to keep Sora and friends occupied, before teleporting herself and Oogie away.

But without leaving behind a Heartless to help them, and a warning not to fail her.

Sora and friends arrive, and Lock, Shock, and Barrel climb into the cage dangling from the metallic Heartless’ disembodied head.

This is the Prison Keeper.

Its gimmick is that it will occasionally use one of its arms to shake the cage to drop Lock, Shock, and/or Barrel into its mouth.

Lock gives it the power to shoot fireballs that you can deflect back at it.

Shock enables it to spin in circles releasing energy balls as it rises and falls.

Barrel grants it access to short range attacks.

The children will periodically be placed back into the cage, although I’m not sure what the trigger for this is.

While it is swallowing Lock, Shock, and/or Barrel, Sora it’s vulnerable to the “Inside Combo” Reaction Command, which allows Sora to dive inside and deliver a beating that will stun it, interrupting its attempt to swallow the brat. Once it recovers, it will swallow Lock, Shock, and/or Barrel anyway, and it WON’T give access to “Inside Combo” this time.

It first swallows one of the troublemakers during the intro cutscene, before you gain control of Sora.

When it runs low on health, the Prison Keeper will swallow all three of Oogie’s minions and unlock all of its abilities.

It can also swing its cage around like a flail, and the cage will emit a purple glow during this attack to indicate that touching it will damage you.

Anyways, shout-out to Mudarrow on YouTube for providing useful enemy bios so I don’t have to click onto KHWiki every five seconds.

Defeating it earns Sora Flash Step (Unleashes a guard-piercing attack on a slightly distant target while keeping up your own guard.), Donald Hyper Healing (user recovers more quickly from being knocked out), Goofy +4 Max HP, and Jack Skellington +15 Max HP.

In the following textbox cutscene, the completely unharmed Lock, Shock, and Barrel declare that was a lot of fun, and decide to go see if Oogie’s ready, revealing to the Junior Heroes that ANOTHER guy they killed in the first game has come back from the dead.

Seriously, first was Ansem, then Maleficent, and now Oogie.

Who’s next, Clayton?

Meanwhile, Santa Claus has gotten lost in the Hinterlands of Halloween Town. Even though the door to Christmas Town is visible, behind him, in that very cutscene.

“Oh, this is utter foolishness,” Santa remarks, “I should be getting ready for Christmas!”

“Is that you, Mr. Sandy Claws?” Sally questions, startling Old St. Nick.

“Yes but… please call me Santa Claus,” he answers.

“Of course,” Sally complies, “Mr. Santa Claus, I was hoping I’d find you here. You see… It’s very important you go back to Christmas Town. I’m afraid something terrible is going to happen if you don’t.”

“Well, I am behind on my preparations…” Santa notes (which makes sense, when you consider how many more WORLDS he’d have to visit after Sora sealed the Door to Darkness. That probably exponentially increased his workload), “All right, tell Jack I’ll be waiting for him at my home. He had something to say to me about Christmas.”

Similar to the movie, Santa’s kinda grumpy when overworked, but still a genuinely nice guy once the source of his stress has been resolved.

“But that’s it,” Sally replies, “Please, go home and lock the door. And if Jack knocks, don’t open it!”

Sally continues to provide context as the camera zooms out to reveal Maleficent and Oogie are spying on them.

“There, the large one in red,” Maleficent points out.

“All I gotta do is kidnap him?” Oogie asks.

“That’s right,” Maleficent answers, “Lock him up at once! Then begin destroying Christmas Town. That’s sure to make Sora and the other fools come running.”

“And then they’re all mine!”

“Yes,” Maleficent replies, “And in the mean time, I’ll turn Santa Claus into Santa Heartless!”

It’s implied that Maleficent wants the Heartless to have all of Santa’s abilities, so that it will deliver Heartless instead of gifts on Christmas Eve, allowing her to add the childrens’ Heartless to her army.

As silly as this plan sounds on paper, it’s actually probably one of the most HORRIFYING plans Maleficent has ever conjured in any medium.

Oogie Boogie charges downhill, and Santa puts himself between Sally and the unseen attacker.

The next seen shows Sally rushing to the Graveyard to tell the Junior Heroes that Oogie’s kidnapped Santa Claus and run off to Christmas Town with him.

No enemies will currently spawn in the Graveyard, as Donald, Goofy, Jack, and Sally are all NPCs Sora can talk to.

Sora will, however, be attacked by Heartless in the Hinterlands.

Upon crossing through the door to Christmas Town, we see that Oogie’s given the Shipping and Receiving part of the Toy Factory a makeover, theming it after himself.

Maleficent prepares to turn a restrained Santa Claus into a Heartless, only for Oogie to bump into her and break her concentration.

“Clumsy oaf!” she snaps.

“Are you still here?” Oogie asks, “Why don’t you Oogie on back to where you came from. You’re crampin’ my style!”

“Have you already forgotten who brought you back, you insolent bag of bugs?” Maleficent asks.

“Sorry! Can’t remember a thing!” Oogie answers.

“Very well, you ingrate!” Maleficent snaps back as she teleports away, “You’ll rue the day you spurned my help!”

Yep, Maleficent is SO PETTY that she abandoned her entire scheme for this world just to spite Oogie for mildly irritating her.

Oogie doesn’t really care, crawling into one of the machines inside Santa’s Toy Factory in order to make some finishing touches on his makeover.

BOOM!

The smoke from the blast is visible from Yuletide Hill, showing Sora and friends EXACTLY where Oogie is camping out.

As soon as you enter the Toy Factory, Oogie Boogie makes himself known with an evil laugh from the same platform Lock, Shock, Barrel, and Maleficent were standing on earlier.

He jumps in and accidentally tackles Sally onto the lower level due to her being in the way as he rushes down.

Oogie stands on some machinery, stating that he and Jack have a score to settle.

“Same goes for your little sidekicks.”

“What are you planning to do to Sandy Claws?” Jack asks.

“Who? Sandy Claws?” Oogie asks as Sally hops around on the floor, holding her purposefully detached leg, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

He jumps down to one of the conveyer belts, where Santa is tied up.

“And why is this roly-poly red guy here?” Oogie questions, “Time to go, grandpa!”

Oogie drags Santa up to the end of the conveyer belt, only for Sally to throw her leg onto the conveyer belt.

This distracts Oogie long enough for Santa to slip away.

Oogie tries to chase them, only for Jack and the Junior Heroes to block his path. Frustrated, he about faces and runs right back to the machinery, crawls inside. He then descends from above in a lift beyond the heroes’ reach and flips on the machinery.

Spikes jut out of the machines at the end of the now activated conveyor belts, and invisible barriers trap the heroes on the conveyor belts.

The thresholds on the openings on the machinery Oogie crawled in change color as Donald tries to chase after Oogie. The one in the center and the one on the left turn blue as the one on the right turns red.

Donald goes into the center opening and is deposited on the right. He then dives back in and pops back out on the original conveyor belt.

The gimmick for Oogie’s battle here is simple.

The conveyors will slowly carry you towards the spikes, which will damage you on impact, so you need to keep moving.

Oogie-themed presents are deposited on the conveyor belts, and you can use the “Fore!” reaction command to make Sora swat them up into Oogie’s lift. Once twelve are in there, the lift will shatter, dropping Oogie onto the conveyor belt.

When Oogie is in the lift, he has access to three attacks:

Exploding Dice: Same as in KH1 and COM.

Punch Gimmick: A giant boxing glove punches down on the conveyor belt from above, which you can dodge by Quick Running between punches.

Thunder Gimmick: Bolts of lightning surge down the conveyor belt, forcing Sora to dodge around them.

He’ll also sometimes send out purple bags that hold Heartless.

He’ll also sometimes relocate his lift to another conveyor belt, which stops you from launching gifts at him.

When this happens, you have to get to the front of the Conveyor Belt. If the “portal” is blue, then your entire party will be dropped on the other conveyor with a blue portal.

The “portals” always change color. Two will always be blue, one will always be red, so it’s possible to get moved AWAY from Oogie if you’re not paying attention.

Once the lift shatters, Oogie is basically completely defenseless. However, once he reaches 85% HP, 42% HP, or a minute of vulnerability, he’ll become invincible as all the “portals” turn red. He’ll rush down the conveyor belt and climb inside the machinery.

Once he climbs inside the machinery, he’ll descend on a new lift and briefly accelerate the conveyors, so make sure you run alongside him when he stops taking damage. You now need to launch 12 more gifts into the lift to make Oogie vulnerable again.

Defeating Oogie Boogie earns Sora an Item Slot, Donald 3 more Max HP, Goofy Once More (user will survive with 1 HP as long as they don’t touch the ground after a combo that launches them into the air. Reverting from a Drive Form or using an ability that breaks the user out of the combo will ALSO cancel out Once More), and Jack Skellington 15 more Max HP.

Oogie’s seams split, causing bugs to pour out of him. He tries to cover the tears, only for the stitches on the other side of his body to split open.

Oogie, unable to cover both holes, deflates as the bugs that make up his body fall out and skitter away.

The main “brain bug” tries to escape, but gets squashed by Donald, destroying Oogie Boogie once more.

Back outside Santa’s house, Sora declares that Christmas is safe again, prompting Jack to remark that it’s time to get back to business.

An incredulous Donald tells him to leave that to Santa.

“Yup, you oughta stick to Halloween and spooky stuff!” Goofy agrees.

Sally then gives Jack his Santa outfit, revealing its complete.

Jack thanks Sally for the outfit, complimenting her work, as he takes it from her hands.

“Jack… Do you really have to do this?” Sally questions.

“But I’d make a splendid Sandy Claws!” Jack protests as he struggles to put the outfit on.

“Listen here, Jack Skellington,” Santa chimes in as he steps out of his house, “You saved me, and Christmas as well. And for that, I’m very grateful. But please promise you won’t cause any more trouble! And about that suit!”

The camera reveals Jack Skellington, now dressed in his Santa costume.

“Don’t even think about taking over for me again!”

“I just thought you could use a little help this year, Mr. Claws,” Jack replies, “You must be exhausted from all the preparations. And – I wouldn’t mind a second chance to get this Christmas thing right.”

Santa sighs.

“Yes, being Santa Claus can be tiring,” he admits, “But let me tell you something, Jack. Seeing the faces of happy children when they discover the presents I’ve brought them makes it all worthwhile, year after year after year.

“And you, Jack – You love to make them gasp and see them shiver with fright. What if someone tried to take all of that away from you?”

That actually gets Jack to think.

“We both have very important jobs to do, Jack,” Santa explains, “Mine is to take care of Christmas, and yours is to take care of Halloween. So we each have to do the very best we can.

“After all, you’re the face of Halloween – Mr. Jack Skellington! The Pumpkin King! The Knight of Nightmares!

“And even though you’re fascinated with Christmas, Jack… Halloween is your true specialty.

“Don’t you see? Children rely on both of us to do our jobs. Halloween needs your attention, and I know Christmas needs mine – urgently.”

“You’re right!” Jack replies, “I am the master of terror! And if Halloween has become too routine, all I have to do is think of something new to REALLY make them scream!”

At this point, the Mayor of Halloween Town runs up, revealing that he’s been looking for Jack everywhere.

He’s drafted up some plans for next Halloween.

“I can’t do a thing without your approval!” the Mayor reminds him.

“So true!” Jack remarks as he and the Mayor head back to Halloween Town together.

Santa wishes Jack luck.

“Well, there he goes,” Sora remarks.

“Yes, and I’ve got lots of names to check and preparations to finish!” Santa replies.

Then, Jack’s Santa outfit starts glowing.

“Jack, this is no time for joking!” the Mayor admonishes.

“What’s this?” Jack remarks as he inspects his now-glowing clothes, “Perhaps a bit TOO festive for our Halloween needs.”

Cue the funniest Gate opening cutscene in the game. Because Jack is WEARING the object that opens the Gate to connect the worlds, he is VISIBLY BEFFUDLED during the entire animation. It’s hilarious!

“We better get going!” Sora announces.

“Before you do, Sora,” Santa chimes in, “I believe there’s a friend of yours… who – if I recall correctly – was the one who told you there’s no such thing as Santa Claus?”

“Oh yeah…” Sora reflects, “He did say that!”

“Be sure to give him my very best wishes,” Santa requests, showing that he DOES have a sense of humor.

“I will but… Do you know where I can find Riku?”

“No…” Santa admits, “but don’t give up! Remember, if you believe in Riku, you will find him. Just as you found me.

“Right!”

Sora and friends head back to the Gummi Ship.

For defeating Oogie Boogie, Sora receives the Magnet element, allowing him to cast Magnet.

Magnet deals Dark damage via a vortex of magnetic force that draws in enemies.

This unlocks the next episode of Atlantica’s storyline, so we’ll be heading there next before doing anything else!

-

Please tell me they’ve let Riku meet Santa.

[the-cat-chat]

October 13, 2023

Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan (1989)

Jason Voorhees is accidentally awakened from his watery grave, and he ends up stalking a ship full of graduating high school students headed to Manhattan, NY.

JayBell: We made a critical error this Halloween season. We finally decided to watch Friday the 13th, but we failed to realize that there was an ACTUAL Friday the 13th happening this October and we watched it too early. Our bad. So instead, we decided it was only appropriate to continue our Friday the 13th journey with this gem.

Now we were pretty disappointed in the first Friday the 13th. And of course we went into this movie knowing that it was probably going to be pretty bad. And it was! But it was still watchable, and that's more than I can say for some of the stuff we've watched.

One thing I do like about this one is that the teenagers are given distinct personalities and styles and whatnot unlike the mostly generic sameness of the personalities in the first movie (aside from annoying Ned good riddance). They actually feel like different people, even if it's mainly based on shallow stereotypes. Can we talk about the dog though? Why was the dog even in the movie at all? Was it take your dog to work day and they decided to just throw him in the movie cause he was on set?

Now the biggest problem I have with this movie isn't the stupidity of the characters, stupid storyline, or bad acting. No. It's the fact that it should be called Jason Takes a Cruise and not Jason Takes Manhattan because it takes him forever to actually get to New York. And I'm taking off a whole point for not having the final battle be in the Statue of Liberty.

Final Note: Who decided that rooftop fight should be like five minutes long? It went on and on and on. And yet somehow it's my favorite death scene of the franchise so far. Go figure.

Final Final Note: I love that when they shot the "New York" scenes they really decorated the set with so much graffiti. They must have run out of paint.

Rating: 4/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: I guess the only type of horror movies I like are the ones I can make fun of. Bc when things went sideways with Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey, on Friday the 13th I thought it was the stars aligning for us the skipppp a whooole bunch of Friday the 13th and go to this one. Bc it’s absolutely absurd right?? I read the plot after we watched the original and in my soul I hoped for a future where we watched this.

Annnd wow. Just wow. There’s so many little things that are soo odd. And it’s the acting and the plot. like the concept is absurd. It’s the 80s. Like Jaybell says it seems a whole lot reasonable to call this Jason loves boats or Jason takes a Cruise bc the whole time you’re on a boat not Manhattan, except maybe the last 20 minutes- which agaiiin wow. But we’ll get to that. My chief complaints- who takes a dog on a senior trip to Manhattan!!! Via boat. And the dogs the only one with common sense in the whole movie. Like for reaaallllzzzz. Which leads me to point of my next complaint. No one runs they just scream and lie there while Jason stands over them like this lunatic will change his mind about killing them. Okay.

Then. We have our arrival in NYC. First, the bad “gang members guys.” Woof. And they drug what’s her name?? But then when Jason saves her to continue chasing her she completely fine?!? I can’t stay up after taking one Benadryl! But whatever. And her uncle- I thought he was the most reasonable but he’s a freak. And let’s all spilt up??? Has anyone ever seen scooby doo. Bc that don’t work. Annnnd that head shot. Wooooooofff. Anyways not as funny as I’d like and not reasonable enough to be a continuation of the original but honestly idk it was absurd enough to entertain me for a bit. The smart one of the movie is the dog. Omigawd that reminds meeeee. So the paddle to Manhattan from the main boat. In a little boat. And the dog and one guy get in right. But Jason whose home turf is WATeR!!! Doesn’t emerge until they arrive at the dock. He doesn’t drag them into the water while they’re out floating in a row boat. Ooooo and in the sewer- I’ll be scarred for lyfe. Whatever. I hate it but I don’t??? It’s weird. I think it’s bc it is just an experience and a half???

Rating: 2/10 Pumpkins 🎃

[lorriiraine]

on a bench on an October night

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x female!MC

Summary: MC and Sebastian are visiting the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade which will teach MC what it means to be scared. Sebastian gets MC out and take her to a save place.

Warning: angst

Format: One-Shot

Note: still learning to write - be patient and gentle 😩😂🖤

(hc) - MCs haircolor

(ec) - MCs eye color

(House) - MCs Hogwarts house

A soft rustling of the leaves, the gentle whistling of the wind, the calming crackling of the branches in the air current.

It was autumn in Scotland and Hogwarts Castle was surrounded by the most beautiful reds and oranges of the falling leaves. The air was getting colder, the atmosphere warmer. Pumpkins with different faces and filled with candles had been standing everywhere for a few days, illuminating the gardens, the courtyards and the main hall. Halloween was getting closer and closer. What was popular with the students at Halloween - Hogsmeade. Honey Duke's was a hugely popular destination at this time of year. Students would buy loads of sweets, arrange to meet in their common rooms in the evenings and tell scary stories around the fireplace or sneak around the castle at night. Others used this time of year to visit a very special place near Hogsmeade - The shrieking shack.

That was Sebastian Sallow's plan too this year. A young wizard from the seventh year. Strongly built, brown, tousled short hair. Hazel brown eyes. His face and neck kissed by the sun, which left soft freckles on his skin. With long strides he walked to the great hall with one goal - MC.

MC and he had been close friends since fifth grade. That was when she came to Hogwarts. He had liked her from the first moment she had beaten him in a duel in DADA. He had been enthralled by her. This enthusiasm developed into an intimate friendship.

Arriving in the great hall, he looked around and spotted her sitting at her house table. Her (hc) hair fell in gentle draughts over her shoulders. Her (ec) eyes were fixated on a book she was reading. With a smirk, Sebastian walked towards her.

"Hey, MC! Aren't you getting tired of this dull book? How about a real adventure after a long time?", Sebastian asked her while sitting down and taking the book from her. Bored and with a feigned look of disgust, he flipped through the book. MC rolled her eyes. "An adventure...? Can't mean anything good coming from you," MC said with a smirk. "You and I... go to Hogsmeade and visit the shrieking Shack. What do you say? Appropriate for Halloween?" came from Sebastian. MC just sighed in amusement. "Those are all just rumours... that house isn't cursed," came from her and amused, she shook her head. "If it's not cursed, then why not leave in the first place?", Sebastian teased further after closing the book she had been reading earlier. MC hesitated a little. "Fine... if you really want to," she spoke timidly. "Scared?" the Slytherin retorted. Briefly, MC blushed and avoided his gaze. "Pah. Definitely not," she spoke and gave a short snort, which made Sebastian laugh. "Fine... get your things. I'll meet you outside in twenty minutes," with those words Sebastian stood up and left MC alone.

Twenty minutes later on the dot, MC left the castle. She was wearing a jumper in her house colour, along with black leggings and dark boots. Around her neck she had tied a scarf, also in her house colours. She looked around briefly when she saw Sebastian. Wearing a grey cloak and a Slytherin scarf. "Sebastian," she exclaimed. Said person turned and smiled gently. "Shall we?" he inquired again. After an affirmative nod from MC, the two set off.

Arriving at the shrieking shack, the pleasant, harmonious mood of the surroundings suddenly changed. Bare, black trees adorned the path, the bushes sprawled over the road. Ravens sat on the signposts and crowed their cruel sounding songs. Every now and then there was a rustling in the branches, the crooked house didn't seem to be getting any closer.

"Creepy, isn't it?", Sebastian interrupted the silence between them with a cheeky grin. From his expression, he actually felt quite at home here. MC, on the other hand, noticed how she was getting more shaky inside. However, she tried to hide it from her best friend as best she could. She couldn't admit that she was getting nervous. Not after she had made such a big claim that this place wasn't haunted.

Her reaction elicited only a soft laugh from Sebastian. "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you. I'm with you, after all, protecting you from the evil, evil spirits," he spoke arrogantly. However, for the sole purpose of reassuring MC. To make her laugh. And it actually elicited a response from her. "I'm not scared," she spoke, poking the Slytherin in the side, whereupon he laughed softly again. "It's alright, if the brave one (house) says so..." he quipped. MC rolled her eyes, smiling only slightly.

Arriving at the front door step, her smile disappeared again. Her eyes darted up the front of the house. Ivy vines grew up the wall, the rotten wooden shutters rattled and banged open and shut again and again. The dirty windows shook in the wind. A low howling could be heard and holes in the roof left the house unprotected from all of nature's powers.

"We don't have to go in. If you want to turn back, we will.... I can buy you a butterbeer," came from Sebastian after watching MC closely. The young woman, however, looked briefly at Sebastian. She didn't want to freak out and leave. They were here now. Then they should go in too. Without thinking twice, MC opened the heavy, creaking door.

Inside the house it was dark. Cobwebs hung in every corner. The smell of rotting wood was in the air. Slowly the two went inside. The furniture was dusty, the walls tarnished and scratched, as if a wild animal had run through the halls of the house. "Lumos," spoke Sebastian, who had drawn his wand. A bright light illuminated the entrance hall of the house and the two of them got a better view of the surroundings. Crooked pictures on the wall, some had fallen down and broken. The wooden floorboards were already grey from the dust. The two took their time and looked around.

Then a loud howling sounded. So loud and so shrill that it sounded like a woman's shrill scream. MC flinched and instinctively grabbed Sebastian's arm. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling. Sounds that sounded like footsteps could be heard. "Hey.... All good... the holes in the roof.... And presumably the broken windows.... Are providing a vacuum that's causing that howling. There's nothing ghostly there," Sebastian's voice was soft and calm. Slowly he released his arm from her grasp and put it around her shoulders instead. He noticed how quickly her shoulders rose and fell. How she trembled.

After a moment, MC calmed down, swallowed once and took a deep breath. "Of course.... I know," she said dryly. Sebastian smirked. "Do you still want to go further?" asked Sebastian gently now. The young woman looked up at her best friend, then nodded. "Of course," came from her. She knew Sebastian. If she wanted to leave now, he would tease her about it again and again. So now she had to go through it too.

Sebastian went ahead, climbed the steep and crooked wooden stairs. The banisters could no longer be trusted - they wobbled with every step and the wooden boards of the stairs creaked suspiciously under his steps. Slowly and carefully, MC followed him. For a brief moment she had the feeling that someone was behind her. An icy breeze brushed the back of her neck, causing her to turn around with a jerk. There was no one behind her and yet she had sworn that someone had been there.

"What's wrong?" asked Sebastian, who had arrived at the head of the stairs. "Nothing... I just thought there was..... hmh.... Never mind," MC muttered. The moment she turned to take the next step, her foot broke through the stairs and she fell. A scream escaped her throat as she broke through the rotten stairs. But before she could fall any lower, two strong hands held her arm.

"I've got you, don't look down!" exclaimed Sebastian, who stopped her from falling with a firm grip. Panic rose in MC. "Sebastian please!!! In Merlin's name, don't let go of me!" she screamed in panic. It was laborious not to let MC fall. Still, the Slytherin mustered all the strength he had in him and pulled MC up to him. As soon as he had pulled her up to him, Sebastian fell backwards onto the dusty wooden floor, dragging the young woman with him, whereupon she landed on his chest. She was now shaking and crying. Immediately Sebastian wrapped his arms around her, holding her safe and close, stroking her hair soothingly. "Shhht.... It's all right, you're safe with me..." he whispered softly.

MCs crying broke his heart. In all the years he had known her now, he had never once seen her cry like this. He felt her fingers digging into his coat and her body only trembled more. "Sebastian.... I-I....," she tried to speak between her sobs and crying, however her tears stifled any following words. Sebastian looked around for a moment. "It's okay.... I'll get you out of here, alright?" he whispered calmly and blew a quick kiss on her hair.

Again there was an ominous howl in the house, to which MC only nodded eagerly. She froze, unable to move nor did a single syllable leave her throat. "Okay watch out.... I'll get you out safely... do you trust me?" whispered Sebastian as he slowly sat up with MC. The young woman just nodded and tried to stop her tears - to no avail. Sebastian smiled softly and gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, dispelling the falling tears. "Then close your eyes and don't open them again until I tell you to, will you?" as he said this he pulled out his scarf in soft white and green. MC looked up at him in tears and confusion at the same time. Then she nodded slowly.

With her silent consent, Sebastian covered her eyes and ears with his scarf to make sure she didn't see anything or hear any more of that horrible scream-like howl. After making sure she could still hear him and only him, he stood up and knelt with his back to her. "Okay. Come a little closer to me and hold on tight.... Not that you'll fall off me again," came a little jokingly from the brown-haired one. However, his expression became more serious again when he realised how much MC was trembling. And how wildly her heart was beating in her chest.

MC put her arms around Sebastian's neck and was carried piggyback by him. With one hand under her legs, he carried her on his back. With the other hand he lit his way with Lumos. The staircase was still there, but it no longer looked quite stable due to the two steps that had broken away. It was worth a try, however. "Reparo," Sebastian spoke and the stairs magically reassembled. If the stairs had collapsed under his and then MC's weight, he had to be extra careful now. Slowly he took a step down the first flight of stairs. It held. Cautiously he walked on. Again and again the wind howled through the crevices in the walls and the broken windows. Another step. The stairs creaked loudly and MC's body tensed on his back. "Seb..." she whispered in panic. Sebastian tried to take a breath. "Do you remember herbology last week? Where Leander got bitten by that plant? I heard he's been picking branches and leaves out of his hair ever since. Garreth himself said that a lawnmower will be needed soon," came amused from Sebastian. MC was confused and just pressed more against his back. "Seb...", came from her again. "Hey, MC.... what do you want to do after graduation?", he asked. "What?" she retorted. "Tell me what you want to do after school?" he asked as he took another step towards the stairs. Again, a strong squeak and howl of the wood. "I-I... I want to be in London.... To be posted as an Auror," MC spoke. "Auror then, huh? Maybe we'll be partners...." Sebastian replied with a smile, ignoring the sweat on his forehead.

"Yeah maybe..." the young woman at his back replied with a slight smile. Overcoming the problematic stairs and shortly after regaining solid ground under his feet, Sebastian walked calmly towards the exit. The moon stood bright in the dark, starry sky. The cold October air enveloped the two of them. "Are.... Are we out?", MC inquired uncertainly. "Yes... but I'm still taking you out of here... just relax, MC, and trust me..." came softly from Sebastian. MC was unsure, however, she just nodded. After a short while, and the further they got from the hut, her body relaxed.

Soon Sebastian came to a stop and let MC off his back. "So... we're there," came from him. "There? Where is there?", MC wanted to know. "In a place I've wanted to show you for a while," with these words Sebastian slowly pulled the scarf from her eyes. After a moment, the young woman opened her eyes. When she opened them, she saw a lake covered with the red and orange leaves of the surrounding trees. A lake in which the starry sky was reflected. MC was just speechless for a moment. "Seb this is..." she whispered, "Brilliant? Fantastic? The best thing you've ever seen?", Sebastian anticipated her with a grin. MC smiled a little. "Beautiful..." came from her. Then she looked up at Sebastian. Her eyes reflected the starlight. All fear was gone from her face. "I'm glad you like it, darling..." came from him. A slight hint of blush rose to his face as he realised that he just called her darling. MC noticed it and smiled softly. "you said.... You wanted to show me this place? So you knew the place before?" she inquired softly and sat down on a bench near the lakeshore. Sebastian followed her and sat down next to her. "Well... yes. I discovered the place here while exploring Hogsmeade, just before Ominis and I went back to the castle... The lake was filled with stars and... the sight of it made me think directly of you," he spoke softly, his gaze falling forlornly on the lake. "Of me?" the young student repeated. Sebastian nodded and a slight smile crept onto his lips. "To you.... To your smile... and especially to your eyes. They have... the same sparkle as the stars on the horizon and in the reflection," Sebastian whispered. MC's heart beat faster and her cheeks also turned red now.

There was a short silence.

"I'm sorry I forced you into it... I shouldn't have talked you into it in the first place," his apology sounded sincere and full of remorse. "I was really scared for you.... I swear to you I'll never do anything like that to you again..." he added, looking at her seriously for a moment. MC returned his gaze and smiled gently. "Don't be sorry... I loved being there with you... you saved my life... and showed me this beautiful place here.... I don't regret going there with you Sebastian," slowly and gently MC took Sebastian's hand and held it securely in hers. The brown-haired man looked at the young woman for a moment, uncertain and embarrassed. Then he sighed. "MC.... I" - "I know... me too...." she whispered. Sebastian looked at her for a moment, sighed and slowly pulled her close. "I will protect you at all costs...I promise," he whispered with certain emphasis as he gently lifted her chin and looked deep into her bright eyes. After a brief moment, a brief, uncertain hesitation, Sebastian sealed this promise with a gentle kiss on her soft lips in which he poured all his love.

On a bench on an October night, mutual love warmed the hearts of two souls.

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This one will get also uploaded on my Wattpad in a whole OS collection ����