#trick r treat i just found charming

[bro-atz]

the ceo's doll [bro's 500 — seonghwa]

[billionaire romance, suggestive/smut, ceo!au, seonghwa/afab!reader]

requested by: 🐉

in which: you wanted to work for ceo park seonghwa, but you had no idea it entailed being his maid.

word count: 2.1k

content: smut, yunho cameo, contracted lover?, mentions of stockholm syndrome, UNPROTECTED SEX (PLS WRAP UP IRL), slight admission of love..., breeding kink?, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

The only reason you were stuck with the housecleaning job was because your main occupation, the one where you applied to be the secretary for a really nice, friendly, sweet CEO, was a ruse. Well, technically, it wasn’t, because the other bitch that applied with you got the position you wanted, but you found out it was because that nice, friendly, sweet CEO wanted you for something else— to be his personal maid.

Your opinion of the man quickly changed when you stepped foot in his house. He went from being all the good things you heard about him to a gigantic piece of shit. His persona at work was a fucking lie, and God, you wished you could tell everyone about his actual tendencies, but you weren’t allowed to. He used that sweet charm of his to trick you into signing a literal slave contract. Money kept going and going into your account, but you weren’t ever allowed to really use it or touch it because you were locked up at his huge mansion. You were his.

The moments where he was at work were the moments you lived for yourself. His place was always clean and immaculate, so you really had nothing to do for him while he was out other than sit around. You considered going online shopping, but since the CEO had you in stupid uniforms that rotated daily, you couldn’t go shopping for clothes, and there weren't any other material possessions you really wanted, so you just sat at home and watched TV for the most part.

That day, your uniform was a freaking maid outfit. You hated the maid outfit the most out of all of the rotations because it was that iconic one with the black skirt and the white apron, and every single damn time, he made you wear tights. Sometimes they were white, sometimes they were black, sometimes they were full leg, sometimes they were thigh high; it really just depended on his mood. That day, they were black and full stockings.

“Y/N? I’m home,” you heard him call into the house the second he got home— right on schedule, as per usual.

You quickly smoothed out your uniform, fluffed out the skirt, neatly tucked your hair behind your ears, and quickly made your way to the front door to see the CEO standing before you, his fingers hooked into his tie as he loosened it. Right next to him was another man— another CEO that you had recognized.

“Mr. Jeong, Mr. Park,” you greeted while bowing. “Shall I set up the dining room?”

“No, he just stopped by quickly to grab a document that I left in my office room. He’ll be out shortly,” your employer responded to you.

You knew what that meant. You bowed your head slightly, the man heading to the office room while the other stood before you.

“Y/N,” the man stated your name softly.

“Mr. Jeong,” you responded.

“Please, you know you can call me Yunho,” he said with a dry chuckle. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. And you?”

“Could be better…”

Yunho took a step towards you, all of your cells nearly jumping out of your skin as you realized the distance that had closed between the two of you. You looked up to meet his gaze and saw him chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Listen,” he stared softly. “The offer still stands. Come work for me.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Jeong,” you politely declined.

“Is it because of the non-compete? Because I can have my lawyers—”

“No, it’s not because of that.”

“Then why?”

You pressed your lips together. Sure, you hated the terms of your contract, but it wasn’t because of the way the CEO treated you. You were his, but you weren’t really. What you really wanted was for him to not see you as an object but as a human because, truth be told, you were in love with him. Some could argue that it could be the result of Stockholm syndrome, but you were in love with the CEO even before the contract. How funny.

“Mr. Jeong, I have the document,” the other man returned to the area and shoved the folder into his chest. “I believe you best be going now.”

“No need to get testy, Seonghwa,” Yunho chuckled.

Seonghwa shot the man an ice cold glare, prompting Yunho to hold his hands up in the air as if to surrender.

“Alright, I’ll see you later, Seonghwa. Bye, Y/N.”

With that, Yunho disappeared, leaving you alone with the CEO at the entrance. Before you could even let out the breath you had been holding back, Seonghwa stood in front of you, his sharp gaze nearly burning a hole through you.

“You were late,” he said quietly, the edge in his voice nearly making your heart sink.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park,” you responded in the same register and bowed quickly.

He let out a soft, disgruntled sigh. You kept your head bowed as he stood even closer to you and inspected every single inch of your appearance to make sure you were conforming to his presentation standards.

“No clip in your hair today?” he asked while petting the back of your head.

“No, Mr. Park. It broke last week, remember?”

“Oh, right. Never mind then.”

His hand slipped away from your head, and you let out a soft breath when you saw him take a step back. You thought you were safe, but then you felt his fingers tuck under your jaw and tilt your head up, forcing you to lock eyes with him. You barely maintained eye contact when you felt his fingers then slip from your jaw down to your neck, his fingers pressing lightly into your arteries.

“That still doesn’t mean you’re excused for tardiness,” he brought his head down and whispered into your ear, goosebumps spreading across body rapidly when you felt his breath on your skin. “Come with me.”

Oh, and that was the other thing. You were his sex doll.

He led you to his bedroom and immediately pinned you down on the bed, his hands pressing into your thighs. His thumb nails tore through the thing fabric of the tights, your thighs spilling out of the tear. You watched the man lick his lower lip slowly as he stared at the way your skin peeked through the first tear. He did this every time, and seeing his eyes darken every time he did it made your body flush with heat. Every single damn time.

You could tell his patience wore thin that day. Usually, he would take his time with you, but given that he was irritated with your behavior and the fact that he tore through your tights like it was absolutely nothing, he was definitely impatient.

“Mr. Park,” you whimpered when you felt his hands push up through the tears and to your panties.

“No, doll. We've been over this," the man sighed as he pressed his body against yours.

"I'm sorry, Seonghwa," you murmured your correction while stifling a moan.

"Good girl, doll," he whispered, his lips pressing gently against your ear. “Now turn around and stay on your hands and knees.”

You were a little taken aback; the CEO liked to savor you and eat you out, which meant he really was impatient. Also, he was more of a breasts man, so to hear that he wanted to fuck you from behind was another little surprise.

You did as the man asked, the faint tinkle of his belt buckle and the sound of him unzipping his pants echoing in your ears as you raised your ass in anticipation. He pushed your skirt up, tore even more through your tights, and pushed your panties to the side to reveal your soaking wet cunt. Licking his fingers, he ran them over the lips of your quivering pussy, his fingers teasing you as he pet you slowly.

“Mmm, look at how wet you are,” Seonghwa murmured. “Is this because of him or me?”

“Seonghwa, what are you— Oh God!”

You didn’t get to finish your thought. Seonghwa shoved his cock into you roughly, his deep groan reverberating in the room. You heard him sharply inhale when you clenched around his cock, his waist snapping into yours seconds later.

“Fuck, you’re always so tight no matter how many times I fuck you, doll,” Seonghwa hissed. “You were made for me.”

Every single nerve in your body tingle. You let out a sweet moan when you felt his hand smack your ass before gripping it tightly, his hips not letting up. The more he thrust into you, the louder your moans got. You dug your fingernails into the sheets, your toes curling as you felt his cock being to render you useless.

“You like that, doll?” Seonghwa asked through gritted teeth. “You want more?”

“Yes, please!” you whined.

Suddenly, he pulled out of you. He grabbed the skirt and yanked it down before flipping you over and pulling your top off, leaving you in your undergarments and the torn tights. He ran his fingers along your ribs before pushing your bra up and planting his lips on your breast, the feeling of his teeth tugging on your nipples sending your brain into a frenzy. His other hand guided his cock to your cunt, his waist rolling into yours before his hand found your other breast.

Despite him pleasuring you so, you desperately wanted him to kiss you, but that was the thing about Seonghwa— he never kissed you. He would leave marks all over your body and let his lips have free range of every single part of you, but not once did he kiss you. When he looked up from your breast to see your glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, however, something clicked.

“Doll, open your mouth,” he instructed quietly.

You did as he asked, and finally, his lips met yours. His tongue dove deep into your mouth as he kissed you recklessly. His hand searched for yours, and when they found them, he laced his fingers with yours before pinning them on either side of your head. He pressed his upper body against yours and moved his hips faster while you wrapped your legs around his waist, the slaps from him fucking you getting louder with every passing second— although, you couldn’t hear that over the sound of your wet kisses.

“Fuck, doll,” Seonghwa breathed out in between kisses, unaware that you could hear him. “I love you.”

Those three words were enough for you. They were unexpected given the moment you were in, but you were happy to receive them. So happy, in fact, you clenched again, the butterflies in your stomach rampaging wildly. Groaning, Seonghwa moved his face from yours and buried it deep into your neck before ramming his waist into yours harshly, his cock hitting your cervix. The two of you came together, your moans harmonizing in hot, heavy atmosphere of the room.

You could feel Seonghwa’s seed spill out of you and pool between your legs as he pulled out. You blinked the stars out of your eyes as you watched him get off the bed and stand up, his fingers running through his hair as he let out a soft sigh. Then, your heart fell. He went back to his usual pattern of helping you clean up by giving you a towel and leaving the room.

What he said to you in bed wasn’t an admission of love, you realized. It was him loving the idea that you were there. He wasn’t in love with you— he loved your purpose. Dejected, you got to cleaning yourself up, a small pout forming on your lips as you tried to push out all the hopeful thoughts that had begun to swirl around in your brain. You moved to get off the bed, only to see Seonghwa turn wearing fresh underwear and holding a brand new hair clip. He got on the bed next to you and held the bed sheet up to your chest, prompting you to cover your naked body before he started pulling your hair back. The hope started to revive in your heart as you watched him care for you in a way he never had before.

“I have a question for you,” he murmured softly.

“What is it?”

“What was… Mr. Jeong talking to you about?” he inquired as he strained to say the other man’s name.

“He wanted me to come and work for him.”

“Uh-huh… And what did you say?”

“I said no, of course.”

Seonghwa moved away to look into your eyes. He smoothed out the hair on the top of your head and smiled at you— and it wasn’t the fake, sickly sweet smile he laid on his investors. No, it was a genuine smile, one that made your heart clench and also race at the speed of light. Then, he pressed the gentlest kiss on your forehead, your heart completely and utterly swooning for him at that point.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered.

bro's 500 event | bro's 500 event masterlist

bro's 500 taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @nakiiko @hyukssunflower @aaa-sia

@k-hotchoisan @hwallazia

networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet

@ksmutsociety @newworldnet @wonderlandnet

[mothwingwritings]

can you do Oliva hc and smut pls, i read your valentine post about him and i'm just a smiling mess because of it

Waaaaaaaaaah TYSM darling!!! I love Biscuit!!! ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ ) Top tier man and one of my favorite Baki boys!!! I have a few fics in mind for him, but here’s just some cute little stuff in the meantime!

WARNINGS: Mentions of sexy stuff under the cut, so 18+ only, but the rest is pretty tame.

Biscuit was SUPER nervous to meet your family/friends for the first time. He holds you in such high regard that he was terrified of the impression he would make on your loved ones. He’s a nice, charming, wealthy gentleman-but none of that changes that fact that he’s a convict, and he was deeply concerned that those close to you would not accept him as your partner for that reason alone. He plans to be by your side till your dying day, so he wants the people most important to you to understand how strong his love is and realize he is not a threat, but a protective force.

I know this is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I really love the idea of a poly relationship with you, Biscuit, and Maria. If Maria is still in the picture, I imagine Biscuit has a very hard time staying away when it’s just the two of you hanging out. Though he’s happy neither of you are alone, he wants to be a part of what you are doing SO BAD it nearly drives him mad. The two of you could literally just be hanging out watching TV and he’ll be hitting up your phones nonstop asking what you guys are up to, talking about how much he wishes he were with you, sending pouty face selfies waxing poetic about how much he misses his beautiful loves. You and Maria definitely gang up to tease him, replying with suggestive texts or hinting at saucy interactions (even if literally nothing is going on) to rile him up. It’s all in good fun, but you do make sure to give him plenty of love and attention as soon as he comes back to you.

Even with how big he is, he loves being the little spoon.  It doesn’t matter how much smaller than him you may be, he melts when you hold him in your arms. He’s not a religious man, but he can believe there is a heaven when he’s drowning in your embrace, because he’s found it in your hold. ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Biscuit is not one to argue with you, and usually concedes to spats or disagreements with you pretty quickly. In the rare instances where he does need to put his foot down, he feels so guilty about it afterwards that he lavishes you with so much affection and so many treats that he ends up negating any stern punishment he had previously tried to impose upon you.

He gets really grumpy when other men flirt with you. He knows you are beautiful, charming, funny, and smart, so it’s only natural you will catch other people’s eye… but that doesn’t mean he has to like it or accept it. You are HIS and everyone needs to know and respect that. If he is around and sees someone eying you or chatting you up, he will get extremely handsy and overbearing to make said person back off. If they do not, there will be a problem. :)

On the flip side, if someone is rude or mean to you in any way he will outright beat their ass. They honestly may die.  No one talks shit about his baby, and he’ll pummel their sorry ass until they realize just how bad they fucked up… And then beat them a little more, just for good measure. ₍꒢  ̣̮꒢₎

He loves going for long drives with you, especially when it’s on his motorcycle. There is nothing quite like tearing down the highway, wind whipping full speed, just you, him, and the open road ahead. He loves the feel of you r chest pressed flush against his broad back, loves it even more when he speeds up and you grip on even tighter. Sometimes he’ll even pull a surprise trick to get you to squeeze him even harder, but he’ll feel bad if he scares you too much. He always wants you to have just as much fun as he is.

He is definitely the kind of guy that always wants to be matching you, if not outright in the same outfit, then in corresponding fits. He will go out of his way to find out what you plan on wearing for the day, just so his outfit can complement yours. Even if you personally find that kind of thing embarrassing, he will make the saddest puppy eyes imaginable at you until you give in and dress up with him. He always takes pictures of your matching sets-they flood any social media he may have.

NSFW Headcanons under the cut!

He is EXTEMELY vocal in bed-You make him feel so fucking good that he just can’t help himself. Whether its moans, dirty talk, praise, screams of pleasure, he’s not shy about letting you know just how excited he is to be making love to you. He’s so loud other inmates can most definitely hear it, but no one has the balls to say anything to him about it (except for maybe one Jun Guevara who will give you massive shit about it should he ever happen upon you alone in the prison, laughing while doing so over what a pretty shade of red you are turning).

He has a huge praise kink, both giving and receiving. If you were to purr in his ear that he is a good boy he would probably cum right then and there, no further foreplay required. He loves showering you in compliments during the entirety of the love making, and he’ll dreamily relay to you how gorgeous you look stuffed with his cock, how pretty you sound whimpering in pleasure, how stunning you are in the afterglow. He’s so overcome with his attraction to you he could speak on it endlessly and still only scratch the surface of how you make him feel.

Whenever he has to travel, he’ll take mementos of you with him on his trip. Most of them are wholesome, but he always makes sure to bring one that no one else can know of. More often than not it’s a pair of used undergarments he pocketed, plucked off your body himself the last time you made love. He can’t have your body there with him in person, but he can at least have this small token with him to help him along when he’s feeling in the mood. He’d often call you to initiate a conversation, working himself up as the discussion grew increasingly raunchy, stroking himself against the soft silk of your panties until he spilled himself all over the delicate fabric. It wasn’t nearly as good as making love to you in person, but it would work in a pinch.

Biscuit loves to take his time with you in the bedroom, refusing to rush even if you are pressed for time. It’s maddening how slow he is, the languid ghosting of his hands over your body mixed with the leisurely kisses he plants over every inch of you is enough to drive you to the point of insanity. You beg for him to stop teasing you, pleading for him to pick up the pace and let you cum, but that only makes him go slower. It’s the only time he’s ever ‘mean’ to you, but he wants to drag your pleasure out as long as possible. He gets so lost in you that he wants the moment to drag on forever, and he’ll do all he can to elongate the process to try and make that a reality.

To Biscuit, you are royalty, and he will never treat you as anything but. Your pleasure always comes first to him, and he gets majorly embarrassed when he comes before you do. Poor guy, it’s just as torturous (if not more so) to be in his shoes when you two are fucking, and it takes all his strength to not be overtaken by the ardor he feels for you. Looking down on you as you are writhing in pleasure, your face contorted in lust, wantonly begging for his love… He deserves an award for how long he is able to hold back before he completely loses control.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hello! Please could you possibly do a TWDG Marlon, Mitch ( and maybe Louis if you have the time <3) with a S/O who’s likes to give them random things they find. For example they see a cool bottle cap and give it to their Partner with no context? <<333

(Hey! I sure can, here ya go! Enjoy!)

MARLON, MITCH AND LOUIS X READER

MARLON

He would be a little confused at first

He thought you were either going to throw it at him or just show it to him real quick

But when you opened his fist and gave it to him before walking away he was confused as hell

Stood there for a few minutes trying to figure out if it was a trap or trick

When you didn't come back he messed with it in his hand for a second

He then walked back up to his office/room

He opened a drawer and empties its contents before placing your single bottle cap inside

His collection has now grown tremendously

Uses them for little decoration sometime

Rosie also really likes them

Will never destroy them

Marlon once placed it on her nose as she just stared at it

Has one on her collar now

Just a single pink bottle cap with the initial R on it

Cherishes them forever

"Hey, Marlon!" The boy looked up as he saw you walking over, sitting on the desk in front of him.

"Hey, got any more souvenirs?" He asked. You shook your head. "No, not today. I think I found them all." You laughed.

"Then we'll just have to find more. My drawer is still kinda small." He shrugged, you looked at him utterly confused.

"Your drawer? What's in your drawer?" You asked. "The bottle caps and rocks." Marlon answered, not looking up from the drawer out map.

You still were confused, you stood up, walking around the desk and opening the top drawer. 

Your eyes widened to see all the bottle caps and pretty rocks you had collected piled inside.

"Marlon," you started, your boyfriend finally looking up. "What?" He asked, you holding up a hand pull of the bottle caps.

"You saved them all?" You asked, looking up at him with a smile. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?" He chuckled, letting out a yelp as you lunged at him, hugging him.

"U didn't know you kept them!" You laughed, Marlon chuckling as he hugged you back.

"I'm getting more!" You said, pulling away from the hug and heading towards the door, waving over your shoulder.

Marlon shook his head. 

He didn't mind adding more of your findings to his collection. 

MITCH

He was also shocked

But he didn't know what to do with it

He kinda was questioning giving it back

Until he looked at your smiling face

You looked so proud of the single bottle cap you had found

You even painted it and added your initials

The first conversation went a little like this

"Mitch!"

"What?"

"Here!"

"....Y/n, what am I supposed to do with a bottle cap?"

"Keep it. I painted it, look!"

"...Okay then."

You were confused as you watched him walk off, stuffing his hand with the bottle cap in his pocket

You missed the small blush on his face though

It's his little good luck charm now

Even if he would never admit it to anyone

Whenever he's on a run?

His hand is in his jacket pocket, holding the bottle cap

"You still have this?" You asked, pulling your hand out of your boyfriend's pocket where you were holding hands to see the bottle cap.

"Why in hell wouldn't I?" Mitch asked, making a face as he took the bottle cap back. "I just thought you wouldn't have it anymore." You chuckled.

"Well, you're wrong." Mitch stated, going back to carving his weapon as you shook your head, leaning into his side to watch.

What you didn't know was that his hand was still in his pocket, fidgeting with the bottle cap.

LOUIS

Boy wasn't confused or nothing

He loves you

He loves anything you give to him

You find any that weren't even for him?

He took them

No questions asked

Absolutely worships them

Takes them as a token of your love

Keeps them in the finest condition known to man

Treats them better than anything

Has a entire little basket for them

Keeps them under his bed

Rotates between them all in his pockets

His little charms

If I do say so myself

Uses them as gifts sometimes too

Got some glue and stuck them to a little board to say

"Louis is the best"

He gave it to you for your anniversary

You thought it was a gag gift but loved it anyway

Now is stuck on your wall for eternity

"Y/n! I made the best gift." Louis stated, handing you the board as you stared at it for a second.

"Louie, what is this?" You asked, chuckling. 

"My amazing name? You should be lucky." He stated, smug as you shook your head. "Yeah, this is going on the wall."

"Of course it is! It was either way." Louis stated, taking it back to stick it on the wall.

"Best anniversary ever." He stated, his hands on his hips as he backed away to admire his handy work.

Behind him you laugh, face palming at the boy.

[uraveragelonelyhuman]

Marlon, Mitch And Louis x Reader Who Gives Them Random Things

MARLON

He would be a little confused at first

He thought you were either going to throw it at him or just show it to him real quick

Bur when you opened his fist and gave it to him before walking away he was confused as hell

Stood there for a few minutes trying to figure out if it was a trap or trick

When you didn't come back hw messed with it in his hand for a second

He then walked back up to his office/room

He opened a drawer and empties its contents before placing your single bottle cap inside

His collection has now grown tremendously

Uses them for little decoration sometime

Rosie also really likes them

Will never destroy them

Marlon once placed it on her nose as she just stared at it

Has one on her collar now

Just a single pink bottle cap with the initial R on it

Cherishes them forever

"Hey, Marlon!" The boy looked up as he saw you walking over, sitting on the desk in front of him.

"Hey, got any more souvenirs?" He asked. You shook your head. "No, not today. I think I found them all." You laughed.

"Then we'll just have to find more. My drawer is still kinda small." He shrugged, you looked at him utterly confused.

"Your drawer? What's in your drawer?" You asked. "The bottle caps and rocks." Marlon answered, not looking up from the drawer out map.

You still were confused, you stood up, walking around the desk and opening the top drawer. 

Your eyes widened to see all the bottle caps and pretty rocks you had collected piled inside.

"Marlon," you started, your boyfriend finally looking up. "What?" He asked, you holding up a hand pull of the bottle caps.

"You saved them all?" You asked, looking up at him with a smile. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?" He chuckled, letting out a yelp as you lunged at him, hugging him.

"U didn't know you kept them!" You laughed, Marlon chuckling as he hugged you back.

"I'm getting more!" You said, pulling away from the hug and heading towards the door, waving over your shoulder.

Marlon shook his head. 

He didn't mind adding more of your findings to his collection. 

MITCH

He was also shocked

But he didn't know what to do with it

He kinda was questioning giving it back

Until he looked at your smiling face

You looked so proud of the single bottle cap you had found

You even painted it and added your initials

The first conversation went a little like this

"Mitch!"

"What?"

"Here!"

"....Y/n, what am I supposed to do with a bottle cap?"

"Keep it. I painted it, look!"

"...Okay then."

You were confused as you watched him walk off, stuffing his hand with the bottle cap in his pocket

You missed the small blush on his face though

It's his little good luck charm now

Even if he would never admit it to anyone

Whenever he's on a run?

His hand is in his jacket pocket, holding the bottle cap

"You still have this?" You asked, pulling your hand out of your boyfriend's pocket where you were holding hands to see the bottle cap.

"Why in hell wouldn't I?" Mitch asked, making a face as he took the bottle cap back. "I just thought you wouldn't have it anymore." You chuckled.

"Well, you're wrong." Mitch stated, going back to carving his weapon as you shook your head, leaning into his side to watch.

What you didn't know was that his hand was still in his pocket, fidgeting with the bottle cap.

LOUIS

Boy wasn't confused or nothing

He loves you

He loves anything you give to him

You find any that weren't even for him?

He took them

No questions asked

Absolutely worships them

Takes them as a token of your love

Keeps them in the finest condition known to man

Treats them better than anything

Has a entire little basket for them

Keeps them under his bed

Rotates between them all in his pockets

His little charms

If I do say so myself

Uses them as gifts sometimes too

Got some glue and stuck them to a little board to say

"Louis is the best"

He gave it to you for your anniversary

You thought it was a gag gift but loved it anyway

Now is stuck on your wall for eternity

"Y/n! I made the best gift." Louis stated, handing you the board as you stared at it for a second.

"Louie, what is this?" You asked, chuckling. 

"My amazing name? You should be lucky." He stated, smug as you shook your head. "Yeah, this is going on the wall."

"Of course it is! It was either way." Louis stated, taking it back to stick it on the wall.

"Best anniversary ever." He stated, his hands on his hips as he backed away to admire his handy work.

Behind him you laugh, face palming at the boy.

[rainswept]

[A/N: had this idea in my head, and just thought it was a fun one. Gonna do my best for him, so I hope you enjoy. Or not due to EBG. :p]

Late at night after the audience has left, when the streets of Fontaine are devoid of people, when all that hangs in the air is a deafening silence, a familiar figure dressed in his red magician's attire can be seen on the street.

Christmas and the holiday season, despite being the busiest seasons for Lyney and Lynette's Magic Show, brought up bittersweet memories. From their times as orphans on the streets, all they had was each other.

And then you came.

Charmed by your presence, Lyney pulled out all the stops to impress you. Every trick he knew, every connection he had, he did them all to get closer to you.

You were impressed by the Magician and even agreed to celebrate with him, Lynette, and Freminent.

So then why, is Lyney walking the streets of Fontaine with such a forlorn expression?

It's because you never showed up at the meeting place. When he asked around, no one seemed to see you. You seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.

Unsatisfied with that answer, he promised to look for you until you were found. He wasn't about to give up on you. Not now.

A meowing snapped Lyney from his thoughts as a black cat laid on some nearby boxes.

"Hey, little one."

Lyney took the hat off of his head, and with a dramatic flourish, took out some cat treats from his hat. He held out the treats for the cat. He watched carefully as the cat came closer to him and the treats.

"Don't be afraid. I don't bite."

Once the cat ate the treats, Lyney flicked his wrist and a few more were produced. The cat meowed and nuzzled into Lyney hand. A sad smile graced his lips.

"Sounds like you were left out of the festivities too. So, how about you come over and I can get you some food? Maybe I can talk to Father to take you in. I'm sure the other children at the orphanage would take care of you better than our streets here. So, how about it?"

Lyney offered his hand to the cat. When the chat nuzzled into his gloved hand, he took that as a sign to pick up the cat in his arms and gently pet its back.

If you asked Lyney himself why he took the cat, you would probably get various answers. But in truth, it could be seen as a simple reason.

Everyone should have someone on Christmas.

once again I DO NOT KNOW WHO THIS IS i did not agree to ANYTHING why r u guys SENDING THIS STUFF 😭😭😭 i don’t bite WELL I DO go AWAY

[mermaidsirennikita]

top 5 werewolves you would fuuuuuuuuuck?

LOLLLLLL I HATE. This is actually difficult, because there are not many onscreen werewolves that I think really... work? And the casting can negatively impact some. Like, I love the Huntsman from The Company of Wolves, but... I cannot fuck that man.... I'm not gonna fuck anyone from Teen Wolf, because they're all Teen Wolves and I'm not a monster.......

--(The Unfortunately Named) Jack Russell, Werewolf by Night. 1) As we've covered, I've long harbored a Gael Thing and 2) I really love Jack!!! I love how he's quiet but is also capable of great violence, and so good at having the moment where he quivers as the heroine touches his face and he remembers "oh yes, it's her". I'm... weak for that.

--Laurie, Trick 'r Treat. You know, I'm not usually one for Anna Paquin, but the Little Red Riding Hood thing in the end and the delivery of "my, my... what BIG eyes you have" really does work here.

So yeah, after that I think I'm left with book werewolves, to which I say:

--Lachlain, King of the Lykae (we'll call that a surname), Immortals After Dark. I really just love him. He's the worst. Like, honestly? Should be in prison, probably. But he already was in prison! Burning alive! For 150 years! I just find the fact that he gnawed his own leg off to find a woman, found her, realized she was a one of his mortal enemies the vampire horde who had imprisoned him, went "welp this dick ain't gonna suck itself" and took her back to a hotel room that she had to pay for because he didn't have any money..... hot. I'm fine.

--Grayson Hemming, Cambric Creek After Dark (nobody does shit during daylight). Truly one of the worst men I've read about. A militant werewolf rights activist. Rich. Throws Lupercalia parties and then gets mad when his fuckbuddy doesn't show up to them. Calls her babydoll during sex, a thing I went "ew" at, lying to myself.

--Vanessa Blevin, Cambric Creek After Dark. Vanessa is also really hot tho! Would be their third. There's a part of the book where she's sitting on his face and is coming down from an orgasm and is really pissed that he hasn't passed out, and I personally find that very charming. There's also a part from a different book that's about his brother where Grayson is like "she bit my balls during a blow job, should I have this looked at by a doctor" and everyone is like "yes" so I assume that she bites deeply.

[pcktknife]

Do you have a favorite kill count video/ movie?

hmm i think the original ‘the thing’, ‘better watch out, ‘slumberparty massacre II’, and either of the happy death days

oh and trick r treat !

[foreverindreamlandd]

Sweeter Than Honey • 1

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x Fem!Personal Assistant!Reader

WC: 6.4k

Summary: It all started with a failed attempt to buy your boss a new phone, and then suddenly you're in the middle of nowhere in Ireland crying your eyes out in front of a handsome mechanic who would do just about anything to make you smile again...

Note: This scene was loosely based on a very real moment from a few months ago when my boss asked me to buy him a new phone and Best Buy said no <3 And then I said okay what about this but in Ireland lol. No warnings for this one. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“I’m sorry,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose as your brain tried to form one coherent thought through the force of stress radiating through your body. “I can’t just, like, buy a phone from you guys?”

The customer service rep, Seamus, shook his head. “Sorry darlin’,” enunciating his r’s so harshly with his thick, Irish brogue in a way you would have found charming had he not been making your day especially difficult. “We can’t set up international lines on the fly like that, especially for business accounts. Takes a wee bit of time to contact the right prodivers. We can get things started and have it for ye in the next five business days.”

You nodded, understanding and yet totally not understanding what the kind man was saying. After waiting for almost an hour just to have a fruitless conversation with him for 30 minutes to try to get sorted, you knew it was time to give in and call it quits. He had already put in a bunch of effort and you couldn’t let the line behind you build up any further in fear of them acting on their very apparent frustration.

So with one last, weak smile, you thanked Seamus and headed out the door onto the cobblestone sidewalk, face pointing up to the sky as the light rain gently kissed your skin. You took a few deep breaths, then made your way to your car.

The original plan for today was to spend your afternoon off exploring Dublin on your own before the book event that evening. You were going to go to the different shops, find the rowdiest pub and treat yourself to some stupidly expensive whiskey, do all the fun touristy things to celebrate your first visit to the place you had always dreamed of traveling to.

And then your boss's phone shattered into a million pieces as it cascaded down the Cliffs of Moher, and you were back on the clock before the destroyed device had even made its way into the Atlantic.

Tony had of course offered to go buy the phone himself, seeing that he was the one who had tried to hold it at a weird angle to try to get ‘the best shot possible,’ but you insisted you go. You were his personal assistant, after all, and it had only been about a month since you took the job, and since you were on an all-expenses paid trip to Ireland thanks to your new boss, you wanted to work your ass off to make sure he didn’t regret hiring you.

Besides, you had thought this task would only take 20 minutes tops, and then you’d be on your way to having a protagonist, P.S. I Love You moment with Gerard Butler.

But here you were, already failing your new boss with what theoretically should have been an easy task.

Once in the car, you took a deep breath, holding your phone to your ear as it rang.

“What’s taking you so long?” Quentin’s voice aggressively whispered into your ear. 

Rolling your eyes, you rested your head on the steering wheel. Quentin Beck was Tony’s former PA, but recently got promoted to his Brand Manager, which shocked you because ever since you started working for the international bestselling author Tony Stark, the guy had been nothing but rude to you. That was his trick, though. As soon as Tony or anyone else important was in the room it was all charm and smiles. “Can I talk to Tony, please?” you asked.

You heard a loud, dramatic sigh, then a few sounds of shuffling before the familiar, ridiculously charismatic voice came through.

“Hey, Y/n,” Tony said in his bright, careless way, “Any luck?”

You felt tears prick your eyes in disappointment. Tony was such a nice person, and you hated that you had messed this up for him. “Sorry boss, apparently international phone purchases are a lot more complicated than we thought.”

“Damn,” he breathed out, but his voice remained the same. “No worries, it’s just another week. Pepper and Morgan will be fine.”

Your stomach sank. Of course that’s why he wanted the phone so bad. Not for work, but so he could talk to his freaking wife and daughter. “No no, let me just give you my phone so you can talk to them. I feel awful.”

“Don’t feel bad, Y/n. I’m the one who dropped it off the damn cliff while taking photos. Had you slapped it out of my hands, that would have been another story.”

You laughed softly. “Still, I’ll head back now so you can call them once Morgan gets back from school. And you can use it after dinner. We’ll make it work.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, but I promise I won’t need my phone that much. I’m sure you and Beck can alternate nights so I can at least call them before bed. That’s all I’ll need to get through the rest of the tour.”

You grimaced, picturing Quentin’s classic scowl perfectly.

“I promise it’s fine, Y/n. This is just the universe’s way of telling me I should have studied tech instead of becoming a writer. Just enjoy the rest of your afternoon and I’ll see you later for the event, okay? You’re in Ireland. As your boss I order you to have some fun.”

You breathed out a small laugh. “Alright, boss man. If you insist.”

“I do. See you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit!” you said, then hung up the phone.

Okay, that could have gone way worse, you thought. Maybe I’m not a total screw up. 

All you had to do was get Tony to the event and make sure that nothing else went wrong.

And until then….

You checked the time on your phone and smiled. Though you didn’t have enough time to have a true protagonist-adventure, you could take a slightly longer detour to get back to the hotel and still get your P.S. I Love You moment. 

With that, you opened your GPS and turned on the ignition, determined to salvage this day.

The Wicklow Mountains were even more glorious than you could have ever imagined; its vast, green landscape peppered with gorgeous wildflowers. It was still cloudy with a tiny bit of rainfall, but in the far off distance the sunshine peaked through, illuminating pieces of the hillside like a beacon. You blasted your favorite Irish Folk instrumental music with your hand out the window, letting the rain dance along your skin.

You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry from this beautiful moment. It ended up doing a bit of both. As you sat on a part of the stone wall lined along the road for a quick stop to soak in the views, taking photos of the stunning scenery, tears welled in your eyes as a smile threatened to split your face in two.

It was perfect.

Until…..the pothole came out of nowhere.

Well, technically it didn’t come out of nowhere. That crater looked as if it had taken up permanent residency there for years, almost perfectly centered in the middle of the narrow road. There were crevices within its crevices. A seemingly endless pit that laughed at you as you noticed it too late, and you tried to slow down and turn away. This had, apparently, been the worst thing to do because as your right wheel went into it at too slow a pace and turned too much to the side, you managed to wedge it snuggly within the pothole.

And then….the car slammed to a stop.

Heart pounding from the sudden adrenaline rush, you sat there for a few seconds replaying what just occurred in your head. 

Then, looking up to the hood of the car in a silent prayer before looking back to the road ahead, you pressed on the gas pedal.

The engine revved, trying its hardest to go foreward, but you weren’t moving.

You were stuck.

“Are…you…fucking….KIDDING ME,” you wailed, slamming your palms on the steering wheel between each word. You checked the clock, which showed that you had about an hour before you had to pick up Tony for the event, and Tony was about 40 minutes away.

Tears burned your eyes as you took a few deep breaths, willing yourself to get your shit together. This was your job; you had to be the problem solver. You had to find a way to get Tony to the event.

Or else you might not have a job by the end of the day…especially if Quentin had anything to say about it.

Scrunching your face in frustration at the image of your coworker's smug expression as he watched you fail for the second time today, you pulled out your phone and tried to google a nearby garage. 

No internet connection. 

You bit your bottom lip, fighting back a scream when you looked out at the road ahead. There was a sign about 15 feet away that read:

Stuck in BHOD?

Confusion made you furrow your brows until you noticed the slightly small text below:

Car problems? With a phone number listed.

You jumped into action, dialing the number and muttering, “Pleaseee come on come on come on…”

“Wilson’s, how can I help ye?” a woman asked on the other line and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Hi,” you said, “I’m…I’m hoping I can get some help? I’m at the Wicklow-”

“Did the Black Hole of Death get ye?” the woman cut you off.

Ah….BHOD: Black Hole of Death. Funny, you thought, not laughing.

“Yeah,” you muttered, embarrassed.

“That thing is a beast. Hold on. I think I can get a car to ye in ‘bout an hour..”

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice raising a few octaves as you fought back tears, word vomiting to this kind Irish lady who had no idea who you were, “It’s just…I’m supposed to pick up my boss in an hour and I already couldn’t get him a new phone and the asshole I work with is going to probably get me fired if I can’t get there in time and I just-”

“Calm down, darlin’,” the woman said, her voice soft and soothing. Then, she let out a long breath. “Let me give my brother a call. He should be finished up with a job nearby…”

“Oh my God, thank you. Thank you thank you thank you,” you replied, wishing this lady was in front of you so you could give her the biggest hug.

She chuckled. “Can’t let yer asshole coworker win, can we?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Hell no.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Alright, keep a lookout for a blue truck. And don’t mind Bucky. He does know how to talk, he’s just weird with new folk.”

You narrowed your eyes but nodded. “Gotcha, I think.”

After you hung up, you decided to step outside and at least enjoy some more of the fresh air. The rain had stopped, leaving behind your favorite smell. It always amazed you how a bit of rainfall could heighten the scent of nature, and standing here surrounded by green fields in Ireland….it made it that much more amazing.

So amazing, that you were able to forget all of your stresses for a few moments, and just be.

Now all I need is for a gorgeous Irishman to sweep me off my fee-

The distant sound of an engine pulled you from your daydreams as you looked over to your right.

It had only been five minutes since you got off the phone with the woman at Wilson’s, and already here was the blue truck to come to your rescue.

You were going to have to call her back and get her name so you could name your first child after her.

The person in the car - Bucky, you recalled her saying - had on a black baseball cap, obscuring his face from you as the car pulled to a stop.

You stood up from leaning against the car to prepare to greet your rescuer, but as soon as he stepped onto the pavement, your body seemed to have lost any sense of balance and you found yourself leaning back against it for support.

He was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

Though his body was covered by a red henley and brown leather jacket, you could tell by his frame that underneath all of that material was a strong, muscular body. A black hat covered the  brown wavy hair that rested right at his shoulders.

The worst part about this ridiculously good-looking giant man was his jaw. You knew in an instant that it was one of those sharp jaws that Hollywood searched high and low for to get those swoon-worthy profile shots of a kissing scene, covered in a thin layer of stubble that you found yourself wishing you could scrape your fingers over.  

And he was so tall. The closer he got the more he towered over you. He gave you a quick up and down, that glorious jaw clenching almost imperceptibly, then moved his attention to the rental car.

You had expected him to say something when he approached, but even when he was only feet away from you, he remained silent. Apparently his sister wasn’t kidding…

The silence made you so uncomfortable that you decided to fill it.

“Hi,” you started in a light, drawn out tone, before immediately shifting to rambling, “You must be from Wilson’s. Gosh, that was fast. I just got off the phone with your sister and she said you’d be able to help. Thank you so much for coming out here so quickly. I have to go pick up my boss before he’s late for an event-”

“Can ye put the car in neutral?” Bucky finally said in a low, grizzly voice. You had yet to hear the accent from such a deep baritone and it caused you to have to take a beat and swallow as you gathered your composure.

You nodded, opening the door and sliding into the driver’s seat as you followed his request, continuing your nervous rambling, “I guess it was dumb of me to come all the way out here, but I didn’t think I would get stuck in a massive pothole-”

Your words died in your throat, mouth hanging agape as you watched Bucky positioned himself at the front of the car, squat down, clench his jaw once more, and lift it.

With you still inside. 

You let out a soft oh as he pushed the car back and out of the hole, standing up straight and wiping his hands in front of him as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

As if he hadn’t just lifted a car without breaking a sweat.

You sat there for a few seconds, gaping at him as he made eye contact with you. As soon as he saw your awestruck expression, the corner of his mouth twitched up and he let out a soft chuckle.

And then your insides turned to mush as the beautiful man became infinitely more beautiful.

Finally, you cleared your throat and got back out of the car, feeling both elated by the fact that you weren’t going to be late to grab Tony and from being rescued by the literal man of your dreams whom you would probably never see again.

Of course, had this been P.S. I Love You, you’d both instantly fall madly in love and kiss at the bridge and he’d move back to America with you and you’d both live happily ever after until he got sick and-

Yeah, maybe it was best that you just left it here.

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly, eyes locked on his. They were a bright, cerulean blue; a shade you were certain you had never seen before. “This was a huge help. I cannot express how grateful I am.” You checked your phone and once you saw the time your eyes widened. “Shit, I really need to get going… Um, thanks again. I’ll call your sister and have her bill me if that’s okay?”

As soon as you were about to turn to get back in the car, Bucky’s glorious jaw clenched again and he shook his head, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“That’s not gonna happen,” he said.

Your eyes narrowed, and you realized that his lack of talking was getting kind of annoying. “I’m not going to call your sister for the bill or…” or are you about to kidnap and murder me?

He shook his head again, then cocked it over to the right side of the car. “Tire’s flat. We gotta tow it back to the shop.”

You felt all of the blood drain from your body as you walked over to the tire.

Which didn’t have a single ounce of air in it.

Fuck.

And then, all of the composure you had been desperately holding onto crumbled as your bottom lip began to tremble.

“Great,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. Your body sagged against the hood of the car. “So I officially, totally fucked up then,” your voice broke and you breathed out a wet sob. “Literally my first big work gig and I’m going to get fired after only a month because Quentin will finally have proof that I can’t do anything right-” 

That was when your weeping totally overcame you, and speaking was no longer something you were capable of.

It was almost poetic, sitting here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the most beautiful scenery you had ever laid eyes on standing next to an even more beautiful man while you cried into your hands.

What wasn’t poetic was the snot that was starting to build up your nose and threatening to leak out.

You quickly moved a hand to wipe it away, horrified by the scene you were displaying in front of an innocent bystander. But you were completely overcome, powerless to your emotional breakdown.

Suddenly, you felt something touch your hand.

A thin, soft, paperlike material.

A tissue.

You looked up at Bucky, his hand extended out to you with the offering, a small sympathetic smile on his face.

Grabbing the tissue and wiping your nose, you grimaced as you regained composure. “Sorry,” you muttered out, “I’m sure witnessing a crazed pathetic woman having a breakdown wasn’t on your bingo card for today.”

He shrugged. “Not a huge deal. Besides, I’ve witnessed way worse from Becs.”

Your brows knit together questioningly. “Becs?”

“Becca, my sister.”

You nodded, brows relaxing. “Looks like I’m naming my first child Becca.” Bucky’s head cocked to the side questioningly and you continued, “I decided that’s the debt I must pay for her doing me such a solid.”

The corner of his mouth twitched again as he fought back a smile. There was a mischievous light in his eyes, and he looked like he was debating whether he wanted to say something else or go back to being his mysterious, quiet self. He thankfully chose the former and responded, “But I’m the one who actually came to yer rescue. Shouldn’t ye name your kid after me?”

There is no fucking way this guy is flirting with me right now. But if - by some glorious chance - he is let’s do this.

You feigned innocence and shrugged. “I could, but the problem with that is I don’t actually know your name.” A lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

Then the universe decided to finally gift you something good today as Bucky’s mouth pulled back into a full-on grin, and it felt like you were looking at the sun.

He extended his hand out for you to shake. “James.”

You frowned as you shook his hand, speaking before you could control yourself, “I thought your name was Bucky.” 

All he did was chuckle. “Thought ye didn’t know my name.”

Your right eye twitched in horror and he bit his bottom lip, smile still plastered to his face.

“Bucky is my nickname,” he continued. “Friends, family, and those who have gone head to head with the Black Hole of Death and lived to tell the tale can call me Bucky.”

Giggling, you rolled your eyes, taking mental note of the way Bucky’s face brightened at the sound of your laugh. “Well then, nice to meet you, Bucky.”

You both realized that you were still holding hands, and you thought that you felt him squeeze yours the tiniest bit before letting go.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat, “And what do they call the soon-to-be mother of mah namesake?”

Damn, he’s smooth, you thought as heat rose to your face. “I’m Y/n.”

He nodded, still smiling. “Y/n.”

That was the moment you decided you never wanted to hear your name unless it was spoken with a husky Irish accent. Bucky’s husky Irish accent, really.

Unfortunately, the romcom moment you were experiencing was ruined as you remembered the reason that the beautiful Irishman was here, and you let out a long sigh as you grappled with the inevitable.

“Well, Bucky, I guess I gotta go meet my fate. Any chance your shop is hiring? I have very little skill with cars, but I make killer itineraries,” you said with a half-hearted laugh.

Bucky puckered his lips, then switched his gaze between you and the rental. When he locked his eyes on you once more, they narrowed. “How much time till ye have to pick up yer boss for the event?”

You checked your phone. “Forty minutes. There’s no way-”

“Grab yer stuff,” Bucky said, pulling out his own phone.

“What do you-”

“I can get ye there in thirty.” He tapped a few buttons then held the device to his ear. “We can grab yer boss, take him to the event-”

“But what about the car?”

“I’ll take care of it. We gotta move though or else I won’t be able to stop him from sacking ye.”

He walked back toward the truck and you stood there for a second, shaking your head. “Bucky!” you whined out.

“Y/n!” he whined back before muttering into his phone, and you found yourself laughing incredulously as you moved to the trunk to grab your ‘Oh Shit Kit’ work duffel and purse.

“Listen Stevie,” you overheard Bucky grumble, “Please just do me this solid and I’ll buy ye all the pints in the world tonight. Right…thanks, ye daft brute.” He hung up, opening the door to the passenger side and turning to you. As you approached, he reached out to grab your things to load them into the back seat.

“Dare I ask again about the car?” you asked skeptically.

He wiggled his eyebrows once. “It’s taken care of. All I need are the car keys and we’ll be good to go.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, still smiling. “This isn’t actually some plan for you to kidnap and murder me is it?”

He shrugged. “Guess you’re gonna have to find out, love.”

Love.

It was then that you knew that - even though it seemed like your job was no longer in jeopardy - you were totally fucked.

All you could do was shake your head, eyes glued to those beautiful blues before you as you handed Bucky the keys.

He gave you a small wink as he closed the door for you, then walked over to the Stuck in BHOD? sign and hung them against the other side.

Once Bucky was in the car, you told him the name of the hotel you were staying at and the two of you hit the road. 

You only lasted about a minute before the silence made you uncomfortable again and you looked over at Bucky and asked, “So…how long has the Black Hole of De-”

“Ye can call it BHOD-” Bucky pronounced it like bod, smirking at you, “Makes it easier.”

You nodded. “Okay, well, how long has BHOD been terrorizing the good people of Dublin?”

“Long as I can remember,” Bucky said and you scoffed.

“Why hasn’t anyone done anything about it?” you accused.

He rolled his eyes, glancing over at you for a moment before focusing back on the road. “Well isn’t that an idea,” he said sarcastically. “Listen, love, that beast cannot be tamed. We’ve tried many, many times. Each time we try to fill the hole, it comes back bigger and stronger than ever. Eventually we gave up trying to mess with the forces of nature and instead decided to spend the money on putting up the sign.”

Couldn’t argue with that.

The silence had returned, but before you had the chance to end it, Bucky beat you to the punch. “So, yer boss is…?”

“Tony Stark,” you answered. “He’s a children’s author.”

Bucky smiled to himself. “Oh, I know who Tony is. Sarah’s kids are obsessed.”

Ah, so he was with someone. You felt your stomach turn to knots as you asked, “Sarah?”

“In-law. Her brother is married to my sister,” he said.

The knots unraveled and you bit back a smile. “Are they going to the event tonight?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Sold out in seconds, apparently. The boys were gutted.”

“I’m sure I can get them in!” you said. “Tonight would be the only night I could, probably, since I’ll most likely be unemployed by tomorrow.”

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Why are ye still saying you’re going to get fired when I’m drivin’ ye to pick him up right now? Ye should be fine now.”

“Maybe, and I cannot begin to express how much I appreciate you doing this for me,” you instinctively reached out to rest a hand on his forearm. He flinched, bringing you back to your senses and you pulled it back immediately as if you had been burned. Well, in a way, you had.

But then you saw the redness rise up his neck and into his cheeks, and you realized that the giant, gorgeous Irishman was blushing.

It was a delightful sight.

“Anyways,” you continued, thumb rubbing over the palm that had just touched Bucky, “Hopefully I’m in the clear, but not likely. How am I supposed to explain his ride to the event being a pickup truck rather than the rental he’s been paying for these past few days? And then there was the whole phone shitshow-”

“What’s the phone shitshow?”

You groaned. “Tony dropped his phone off a cliff and I tried to get him a new one but because of international reasons and shit that a very nice tech person tried to explain but went right over my head, they couldn’t do it. And Tony seems like a really nice, super understanding guy, but I’m so new and have already shown I can’t handle the tasks I’ve been hired for and Quentin is definitely going to fight for me to get fired.”

“And who the fuck is this Quentin?” Bucky asked, annoyance in his voice.

You groaned louder. “He sucks. Ugh he sucks so much. He’s basically the PR/brand guy, so he’s really good at being two-faced and pleasant to the people that matter. Then he turns around and treats booksellers and me like shit. But Tony’s never seen it and Quentin has worked with him for years, so it’s my word against his.”

Bucky scrunched his face in disgust. “What a dick.” But when he said dick, it sounded like deck, which pulled you out of your grouchy mood and you giggled.

“Yes, a real deck,” you said.

Bucky scoffed. “I’m sorry, love, but are ye making fun of my accent while I’m going out of my way to save your arse?”

You kept laughing. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I promise I think your accent is amazing.”

“Really now?” he said cheekily.

“Are you kidding? If you say my name or call me love one more time I’m pretty sure my heart is just going to give out.”

It was silent after that, and you were worried you crossed a line. But after a few seconds, Bucky responded.

“Whatever you say, Y/n.”

Bucky pulled up to the entrance of the hotel, and you jumped out to go grab Tony. Thankfully, Quentin wasn’t able to go to the event because he was handling preparations for the fundraiser dinner tomorrow night, so you didn’t need to deal with his dramatic ass for the rest of the night.

Your boss was a bit confused when you led him to the blue pickup truck and saw a giant man in a black baseball cap and a red henley in the driver’s seat waving to him with an awkward smile, but he got into the passenger’s seat nonetheless as you climbed into the back. 

You noticed that Bucky had been on the phone with someone as you approached, quickly putting his cell away when he caught sight of you.

He kept his gaze on Bucky as he buckled his seatbelt and said, “Uh…Y/n, who is this?”

“Tony, this is Bucky. Bucky, this is Tony.”

Bucky nodded, holding out his hand. “Pleasure, sir.”

Tony shook it. “Likewise.” Then he turned around to face you. “It thought we were taking the rental?”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him about the situation with the flat and bracing yourself for his reaction, but Bucky spoke before you had the chance.

“Turns out there was an electrical issue with the car. It broke down while Y/n was on her way and she called our shop. We offered to tow it and call her a cab but she was quite insistent that she needed to get ye to the event. She’s very persuasive, that one.” You stared at Bucky in the rearview mirror and he winked at you.

Tony nodded. “Alright then. Well, good job thinking on your feet, Y/n. I’ll be sure to call the rental company to make sure they cover the charge of the work seeing that it wasn’t our fault-”

“Already taken care of, sir,” Bucky responded. “We have this thing called BHOD Warranty that’ll cover everythin’.”

Tony gave you an impressed look then turned back around, murmuring to himself about never hearing about a BHOD Warranty and allowing you a moment to gape at Bucky’s reflection. He just shook his head.

The hotel was about 15 minutes away from the venue, and Tony spent the entirety of the trip  chatting with Bucky. He asked about his job, his family, this awesome truck he was driving, and, of course, if he had ever heard of Tony’s books.

“I have, actually. Got two nephews who are big fans.”

“Are they coming tonight?” Tony asked.

Bucky nodded. “Originally no because tickets sold out so fast. But Y/n said she’d be able to get them in.”

“Good,” Tony said. “If they’re willing, they’re welcome to hang out for a bit afterwards to chat and take some photos.”

Bucky beamed, a sense of boyish excitement painted across his features as he looked at Tony with a smile. “That would be absolutely grand, sir. Thank ye.”

Tony shook his head. “It’s the least I can do for your help today. I might even get to an event early for the first time in ages.” He turned over to you and wiggled his brows, and you felt a sense of ease wash over your whole body. 

Maybe you’d still have a job tomorrow after all.

Once you got to the venue, Bucky got out to help you with the work bag and escorted you inside.

“Will you stay for the event?” you asked once you got to the green room, eyes wide and hopeful. Normally you would have cared way more about the desperation in your voice. But you knew that your time with Bucky was limited, and you didn’t seem to care all that much how obvious it was that you didn’t want him to leave.

And based on the look on his face, he felt the same way as he smiled. “What, and miss an opportunity to hear a bigshot author speak? Not a chance, love.” 

You beamed, smiling to the point that you almost split your face in two. “Good.”

He smiled back, ocean blue eyes piercing yours. Tony was out in the hallway talking to the event coordinator, so it was just the two of you in the room. Not that you would have been able to notice anyone or anything else that existed in this moment aside from the man before you.

You felt your pulse quicken as Bucky’s pupils began to dilate, and you realized that the distance between you was beginning to close in. And then his eyes flashed down to your lips…

And then his phone started ringing, causing the two of you to jump back in surprise.

Bucky swallowed, eyes still on yours as he pulled out his phone. When he finally looked down to see who was calling, he groaned, pulling the phone to his ear.

“Stevie,” he said, annoyed, “Have I ever told ye your timin’s shite?”

“All the time,” you overheard the mysterious Stevie say on the other end. “Just letting yer ungrateful arse know I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Fine,” Bucky responded.

“You’re welcome, jerk.”

“Thanks, punk,” he said, hanging up the phone. “That was Steve. He’ll be here with the car soon.”

Your head hung back as you looked up at the ceiling, letting out a huge sigh of relief before looking back at him. “Thank fucking God. Thank you Bucky. You really didn’t have to do all of this.”

He shrugged, giving you a side smile. “What can I say, love? I hate seeing a pretty lass cry. Gotta do whatever it takes to see her smilin’ as much as possible.”

Just as you were about to respond to that stupidly romantic statement, Tony walked in and it was time to get the show on the road. Bucky excused himself, saying he was going to wait by the entrance for Sarah and the boys.

You spent the next half hour helping Tony get ready, touching base with the bookstore staff running the event, and making sure everything went according to plan. This was the part of the job you loved, the rush right before a big event where everything was chaotic and you were hyper-focused on smoothing any issues out.

Then, it was time for Tony to get on stage. Before he did, though, he turned to you with a small smile.

“I’m really glad you’re on this team, Y/n. Couldn’t have gotten a better hire.” He rested a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it, then turned around and walked out to greet the crowd, leaving you with a fresh sheen of tears in your eyes.

Once you were convinced that Tony was all settled and the event was in full swing, you moved from backstage to the very back of the venue hall, leaning against the wall as you watched your boss do his thing. He was so charismatic, and the audience couldn’t stop laughing as he spoke, yourself included.

A few minutes into his talk, you felt a large, muscular arm brush against yours and you turned to see Bucky standing next to you. 

You smiled, cocking your head to the side questioningly and you whispered. “Are Sarah and the boys here?”

He nodded, leaning over to whisper into your ear, and the heat of his breath made you have to fight back a shiver. “Just got in and sat down.”

“Don’t you want to sit with them?” you asked, though you wished he would stay with you for the rest of forever.

“Had to get something to ye,” he said, and he leaned back, hand extended out to you.

He was holding out a small shrink wrapped box with the image of a phone on it.

You stared at it, eyes wide.

“Did I mention earlier that Sarah works in tech?” he asked.

You shook your head, eyes still glued to the phone.

“I guess her company keeps stock of American devices, because - shockingly enough - yer boss isn’t the only one to lose or break his phone while traveling abroad. It’s all legit, all he needs to do is log into his plan and everything should be set up in less than 20 minute-”

Bucky let out a soft oof as you hurled your body into his, wrapping your arms around his neck. He only froze for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closely to him.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his shoulder.

He chuckled. “Anytime, love.” He pulled away to look at you. “Unfortunately, phones are expensive as shit so I can’t necessarily waive this charge like with the tire…”

“Absolutely,” you said. “I’ll give Sarah my number and I’ll cover that bill. Though that still doesn’t feel like I’m adequately making up for all of the miracles you’ve pulled off today.”

Then, for the second time today, Bucky blushed, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, actually. I was wonderin’ if ye might be willin’ to make it up to me by, erm….goin’ out with me tonight?”

Your jaw dropped, and Bucky’s eyes widened in panic as he frantically whispered, “It’s not a big deal. Ye can say no. It’s just, I figured it’s yer first time in Dublin and my friends and I always go to the pub on weekends and I thought it might be fun for ye to get a real taste of Ireland-”

“Yes.”

His eyebrows rose. “Yes?”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip. “I’d love that, Buck.”

His chest rose and fell as he let out a sigh of relief. “Excellent,” he said, and then the two of you turned your smiling faces around to watch Tony speak.

For the rest of the event, you both stood side by side against the back wall, your cheek leaning against his arm.

After all the shit you had gone through today and all the stress that had previously consumed your body, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that you had accidently driven your car straight into a ditch.

Sure, you could have easily gotten fired, but even if you had, at least you got to meet Bucky.

Hillary Swank would be proud.

Chapter 2

No pressure at all, but if you'd like to support me for my writing, please consider buying me a Kofi!

Header image taken by the woman who requested this magical fic, @w0nderw0mansw0rld <3

[timeagainreviews]

That time Doctor Who did Tales from the Hood and the Olympics

Content warning: I will speak briefly about domestic abuse at a couple of points in this review. Feel free to skip this one if that’s too much for you. 

They say horror and comedy share similar beats. That the rhythms of their narrative structure are comparable. This is probably why I have always struggled with getting into the horror genre. Much like a comedy, if the premise is weak, you pray it’s brief. This is probably why one of my favourite subgenres of horror is the anthology movie. Tales from the Crypt, Creepshow, Trick-’R-Treat, The Vault of Horror are just a few. But one of my favourites of the lot is a charming film referred to as “Tales from the Hood.” Its cheeky title, an obvious riff off of the then popular “Tales from the Crypt,” franchise, told you everything you needed to know. This was a horror anthology movie made from a black perspective. It stars the electric Clarence Williams III as “Mr Simms,” the movie’s analogue Cryptkeeper. And it’s a lot of fun.

Of the film’s four different stories, my favourite as a kid was always “Boys Do Get Bruised.” In it, a young boy named Walter discovers he has the ability to affect things in the real world after drawing them. He learns this after crumpling a drawing of his bully coincides with his bully meeting a terrible and maiming accident. Throughout the story, both Walter and his mother Sissy are subject to the violent outbursts of Sissy’s boyfriend Carl (played brilliantly by an against type David Allen Grier). Walter refers to Carl as “The Monster,” and draws him as such. Toward the climax of the story, Walter protects himself and Sissy by folding, twisting, and eventually burning the image of the Monster. You can imagine my surprise then, when Doctor Who told basically the same story eleven years later with “Fear Her.”

In Fear Her, we’re introduced to the residents of the appropriately named Dame Kelly Holmes Close, a residential street scheduled to be part of the Olympic torch runner route for the then-upcoming 2012 London Olympics. The local council has taken a keen interest in beautifying their roads to allow Britain to put its best foot forward on the international stage. Only something far more troubling than potholes is afoot, and everyone knows it. No amount of beautification or proud waving of the Union Jack can hide the fact that there are children going missing. Unbeknownst to most of the residents, it all relates back to young Chloe Webber and her bizarre ability to capture people, animals, and objects within her childish drawings.

The TARDIS arrives in what may be one of the funniest materialisation scenes in Doctor Who history with the Doctor needing to readjust the parking. The Doctor and Rose exit, seemingly in high spirits. From my research, I learned that this script had been written pretty early on into Tennant’s tenure as the Tenth Doctor. Because of this, much of the dialogue was written for any Doctor to deliver. I found this funny as I feel some of Tennant’s funniest one-liners come from this episode. Such as when he muses that back in 1948 “everyone had a tea party to go to,” and then goes on to wax philosophic about those little edible ball-bearings on cakes. If that is boilerplate Doctor dialogue, I love it. That said, the Doctor and Rose’s flirting feels out of character and tacked on at times. While the Doctor is busy distracting himself with his own haircare routine, Rose gets the first whiff of danger after witnessing a cat go missing.

After doing a bit of very obvious snooping, the Doctor and Rose have brought themselves to the attention of half the neighbourhood. It’s the concerned elderly woman, Maeve who thinks something is taking the children. Council worker, Kel, is more concerned with smoothing out the pavement of the roads to have noticed much. So the Doctor and Rose go knocking on doors. Meanwhile, Chloe Webber spies their activities from the birdseye view of her first-floor bedroom window. Whatever force has taken over Chole fears what changes these newcomers will bring and it begins to formulate a plan. But through frustration Chloe scribbles across the page, causing a tangled ball of graphite to manifest and attack Rose.

The Doctor uses a bit of sonic screwdriver magic to neutralise the threat, rendering the graphite knot conveniently travel-sized. He then takes the ball back to the TARDIS, where analysis reveals its compounds are pencil lead. I imagine much of the ire for this story comes from Chloe’s being able to draw things in and out of existence, which is fair. Personally speaking, I’ve always loved that concept, ever since I was a kid. It wasn’t just Tales from the Hood either. Eerie, Indiana did a similar story as well. I loved Kyle Rayner as the Green Lantern because he was an artist able to “draw,” things into existence using his lantern ring. I get that it may be a little too far-fetched for some, but I hold that Doctor Who is not hard sci-fi. I would argue that it’s not even sci-fi.  But really, I think the weakest element of this story has got to be the inclusion of the Olympics. 

For starters, this episode came out in 2006. Matthew Graham has gone on record saying that this episode was written for children. So why then, is it so far from the actual Olympics? It’s not as though this is some sort of corporate mandate from the higher-ups at the BBC to generate synergy or whatever. Maybe if the Olympics were in two years, it would have made more sense. With that in mind, it appears to be more of a conscious decision, and what a weird one. If this story was written for six-year-olds, its subject matter wouldn’t come into fruition until they were twice their age. This isn’t really a negative, I simply find it odd.

Even stranger is the fact that this story wasn’t originally supposed to take place on Earth, so the inclusion of the Olympics had to come much later. In trying to understand the usage of the Olympics, I reverse-engineered the story in many different ways to see if it could tell the same story without all of the saccharine nationalism and honestly, I kept coming back to it being somewhat essential to the story. The most likely explanation is that the Olympics are fun and that the story being set in the near future added a bit of realism. Sure, fine, but is that the only function they play?

As I mentioned earlier, Councilman Kel has been proudly minding the pavement with precision as if the Queen herself were running the torch. There’s a sort of gooey sentimentality toward Britain and its inclusion in the proud tradition of the Olympic games. But within this cloying nationalism is a hint of mockery. You can clean up the pavement and shoo away the homeless, but you can’t cover up what happens behind Britain's closed doors. Chloe Webber and her mother, Trish were both victims of horrible domestic abuse at the hands of Chloe’s now deceased father. Even after his death, trauma plagued both mother and daughter. Alienating them from one another, their friends, and even following into their dreams.

After narrowing down the Webber homestead as the source of the disappearances, the Doctor and Rose ingratiate themselves with Trish by presenting themselves as the only people open-minded enough to listen to her. The Doctor uses his famous “Dad skills,” to put Chloe under hypnosis, allowing him to talk to the entity inside. We learn that the entity is a creature called an Isolus, known for travelling in large groups like schools of fish puttering across the murky depths of space. Only this unfortunate Isolus was separated from its family. While seeking out warmth and love, it was drawn to the heat of new pavement and Chloe’s loneliness. Both Chloe and the Isolus are but lonely children seeking company, hence all of the stolen children.

After removing her drawing implements, the Doctor and Rose leave Chloe in Trish’s incapable hands. Seriously, this is the biggest sticking point in the entire episode for me. If your child has the inhuman ability to draw people out of existence, why the hell would you leave them alone? Fearing the Doctor is about to force it back into loneliness, the Isolus grabs Chloe’s coloured pencil stash out of a headless doll and gets to drawing the crowd at the Olympics. That many people gathered in the name of goodwill may be just the ticket. The disappearance of the crowd draws the Doctor and Rose back to the Webbers, but by the time they return, Chloe has also drawn the Doctor into her collection.

Now it’s up to Rose, with a little hint from the drawing of the Doctor- use the symbolic love of the Olympic torch to reignite the Isolus’ pod. Rose deduces that the pod must have been attracted to the high heat of the tar from Kel’s roadworks. She then goes over to his council van, produces a council axe, and tears up the council’s street, revealing the Isolus pod under the bump Kel couldn’t seem to smooth out. Meanwhile, Chloe, still unaware of Rose’s endeavours, furiously draws the earth on her wall in an attempt to further expand her family. Rose tosses the Isolus pod toward the Olympic torch runner just in time, as it attaches to the now roiling flame. The sudden influx of love and warmth draws the Isolus out of Chloe, who restores the missing children and the stadium crowd.

At this point, the episode can’t decide quite where it wants to end. The torch runner gets a leg cramp or something, causing him to drop the torch. It’s beginning to look like nobody will pick up the torch and carry it the rest of the way. That is until the Doctor comes along and scoops it up revealing that not only he, but the Olympics will be alright. Only the human equivalent of a golden retriever, David Tennant, could pull off such a dopey sequence. Seriously, could you picture Eccleston doing that? But the story doesn’t end there. You see, as I said earlier, Chloe’s father was still plaguing her dreams. In order to remove him from her dreams, Chloe trapped her horrific father in a drawing on her closet wall. With the sudden influx of power to the Isolus, the drawing has come to life.

The Doctor and Rose rush back toward the house but are unable to help Trish or Chloe who are racked with terror at the bottom of the stairs. The difference here is that instead of Chloe drawing her abuser into a drawing she can then crush and burn, she is now basically powerless against her father. Except she isn’t, and neither is Trish. The two young women embrace one another and sing “Kookabura,” together as it was always the song Trish used to soothe Chloe after a particularly bad dream. I really loved how at this point in the story, it’s up to two victims of abuse to reclaim their lives and save themselves. By sticking together, they find the strength to overcome their pain. As a former victim of domestic abuse, this scene actually means a lot to me on a personal level. I’m glad they didn’t cheapen the moment by having the Doctor reverse the polarity of the neutron flow.

Now, do I actually think Matthew Graham stole his story idea from a small American indie horror from 1995? No. Stole is a harsh word. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t try to find his Twitter so I could ask if maybe he saw the movie and forgot about it. It would also be a lie to claim I didn’t google his name and Tales from the Hood. All that came up were mentions of an adaptation of “Childhood’s End,” (not that one) and an episode of Philip K Dick’s Electric Dreams titled “The Hood Maker.” Really, comparing a childrens’ episode of Doctor Who to a horror movie from the gangsta rap era is a bit lopsided. It’s like when Kidz Bop covers a particularly salacious rap song. There’s gonna be some differences.

The episode ends with what might be one of the weirdest payoffs in Doctor Who history. The Doctor finally gets his edible ball-bearings on a cupcake. With the children of the village returned, the Isolus back with its family, and the world safe for another day, the Doctor and Rose are right to feel chuffed. Everyone lives and no one has to die. A cupcake break isn’t just warranted, it’s well earned. This is why the Doctor’s sudden chilly proclamation that a storm is approaching feels like a bit of an atonal ending to what was really a bit of a daft episode.

As history has shown, the real 2012 Olympic torch was not, in fact, lit by David Tennant, much to my and many other Whovian’s chagrins. Shayne Ward was focused less on music and more on his acting career by then. The Olympics themselves turned out to be less about love and more about keeping the status quo after the 2011 riots. In a way, Fear Her has become a bit of a retro-active historical, while also acting as a time capsule of preemptive revisionism. The reality of the 2012 London Olympics is closer to what goes on behind closed doors. The monster lurking underneath the image of prosperity.

[queenofnohr]

Twisted Wonderland: Idia Shroud Scary Outfit (R) - Voice Lines + Personal Story

Voice Lines

Summoning Line: Th- th- there are some events even I look forward to…… Is there something wrong with that!? Groovy: Once you see what’s under this helmet, you will never know peace again…… Fuhihihi! Set Home: Wah hah hah! Here comes the Pumpkin Knight~! Home Idle 1: Every time I told Ortho, “Trick or Treat!” he gave me cheap candy, then got mad when I tricked him anyway. Home Idle 2: Events can only be enjoyed if you mind your manners. That rule holds true in every world. Home Idle 3: This is the time of year where every social game has a big event going on, so not having enough time in a day is overwhelmingly apparent…… Home Login: Fuhihi…… Happy Halloween. Huh? What’s with that face? Is it really so strange to see me excited about something? Home Tap 1: Being able to hide my face with the helmet is such a relief…… But it’s a little hard to breathe with it on. Home Tap 2: Wh- What are you going to dress up as……? There’s no way you’d be satisfied with just putting on a headband or hat and calling it a day, right? Home Tap 3: Lions are supposed to be members of the cat family, but Leona isn’t soothing at all like them. *sigh*, I wanna bury my face in a cat’s fur. Home Tap 4: I can guarantee it. Otaku who hate Halloween…… Don’t exist! Home Tap 5: Fuhihi…… The armor is quite durable since it was made with a 3D printer. How much did it cost to make? If you care about that sorta stuff, you’ll lose.

Personal Story: I’ve Done a Good Job~

-Ignihyde Dorm-

Idia: I finally completed my Pumpkin Knight costume~!! *sigh*...... It was so hard to balance doing limited-time events in online games and making my costume…… The amount of times I ended up watching the whole movie even though I only meant to check the costume’s accuracy is too many to count. But what else did I expect from “Pumpkin Hollow?” It’s a masterpiece among all of horror movie history. Mysterious incidents that happen one after another in a peaceful village surrounded by fog. Villagers found with their forms completely changed. And then the culprit, the Pumpkin Knight who has a pumpkin for a head, confronts the two investigators dispatched to uncover the truth surrounding the incidents! Not to mention the complete lack of CGI in this day and age due to the director’s enthusiasm and commitment to making full use of various practical effects, and of course, who could forget the totally unexpected and outrageous plot twist of the investigators quitting their jobs and becoming pumpkin farmers after being charmed by the cursed pumpkin! You can only get this stuff from B-grade horror!! I totally understand its deep-rooted popularity with hardcore fans. I also handcrafted all the costume parts from scratch to give the original my utmost respect. Taking into consideration the need to march in a parade, the helmet and armor were made with highly-durable yet ultra-light polyurethane. The vines affixed to the base of the armor are made from highly flexible silicon. It makes for a realistic reproduction of vines’ natural curves and volume. Now then, not being able to move, or the whole thing falling apart pathetically…… those are catastrophes I’d like to avoid at all costs. I’ll put the cursed pumpkin on my head…… there we go. Alright, all ready to take a test run outside. There seem to be lots of people on campus, but…… I wonder if that place will be okay?

-Woods Behind Campus-

Idia: The elbows have sufficient mobility, and there are no problems with the strength of the joints either. Hmmm, it’s actually really comfortable to wear! As expected of me, I’ve done a good job~. (However, the head parts need adjustment. Visibility is poor because my top priority was making it look like it was hollow.) (I wonder if I could put a small camera at the top of the helmet and run the feed to view on a head mounted display……) *mutter mutter*……

Crash!

Idia: Uwah……!? Ouch…… Did I trip on something? It’s difficult to see near my feet, so I’ll have to make improvements to that, too…… Leona: You bastard, get off of my stomach, now! You’ve got some nerve to use me as a rug. Idia: Eek, that’s Leona’s voice! S-s-s- sorry, I didn’t think there’d be anyone around! I’ll get out of your sight immediately, so……

Clang, clang...

Leona: Ow! Oi, don’t move so suddenly, Pumpkin-boy! You’re gonna rip my tail off! Idia: Eh, your tail!? This is bad, I can’t see anything with the pumpkin on…… (Oh crap, the end of Leona’s tail is tangled with the ivy parts on the costume!) (My commitment to remaining faithful to the original is backfiring……) Leona: Tch, so it’s you. You rarely go outside, and yet you have the nerve to get into trouble. Hurry up and do something about this. Idia: Awawawawa…… (Using that tone while he’s knocked on the ground! He must be livid!) (“This ill-tempered guy’s tail got caught on my armor and now I’m in a tight spot,” is so not a “My hair got caught on his clothes, kyaa~ ☆ meet cute,” kind of plot hook.) (No, I don’t have the luxury of thinking about that in this situation.) J- Just hold on…… I’ll get it unstuck right away…… (Even though I said that, isn’t it impossible in this position? The range of movement in my arm is restricted, so I can’t reach at all.) Leona: ...... Idia: (Ah—! This is bad—! The more I try getting it unstuck, the more tangled it gets!) Leona: *growl*...... Don’t put your hands all over my tail. Idia: No, he’s the one who has more hands free, right? Could he help out a bit more? Actually, in the first place, this totally isn’t a place he should be napping, right? He’s totally cutting class...... He’s the one who blocked the path in the first place…… Isn’t he so proud of how tall he is? I’m not the one at fault, Leona is the one who should be apologizing…... Leona: ......Oi, I can hear everything you’re saying. Idia: H- Huh!? I- I was just joking…… hehe. (Oh, that’s right. Beastmen have really good hearing.) Leona: *sigh*...... You’re slow and inefficient. You don’t have scissors or anything, do you? Idia: A- Actually I do. I brought a repair kit just in case the costume broke…… huh!? (No way, is Leona gonna cut his own fur!?) Leona: Good grief, took you long enough. Idia: (Is he for real? Isn’t this a cool-guy maneuver only reserved for pretty-boys in manga!?)

Thud!

Idia: Huh? Thud? WHAAAAAT!?!?!?!?! You cut the vines I worked so hard on——!!! Leona: You were being too slow so I cut it myself. You should be thanking me. Idia: ...... Leona: Aren’t you glad it was me you tripped over? If it was someone scaaaa~ry it wouldn’t have ended this amicably, now would it? Honestly, aimlessly walking about with a tacky pumpkin on your head. You’re a real nuisance. See ya. Idia: ............ ......H- Huh~~~!? Did he just call the Pumpkin Knight tacky? He must not have eyes if he doesn’t understand the charm of this design……! That’s why I can’t stand Savanaclaw students; they’re all so rowdy…… Though I pity him for not being able to comprehend the greatness of the Pumpkin Knight. Just you wait! By the time the parade rolls around, I’ll have the equipment completely upgraded! And he’ll recognize just how cool the Pumpkin Knight is!

-

*Small note; I usually use (parenthesis) interchangeably for both whispering/talking quietly to oneself and for internal monologue that is put in parenthesis in the game itself. Here, however, since Idia uses both and it’s important to differentiate between them, (internal monologue is in parenthesis like this), while whispered dialogue is completely italicized, like this.

[mrsgiovanna]

SCUSI ❤️ I headcanon that Giorno turns inanimate objects into frogs and makes them climb people to see how they react. If they react negatively or cruelly to the frog, he immediately has a bad impression of them. Can I have headcanons or a fic of Giorno using this method with his crush and once the frog lands on her short legs she just freezes and her mouth just goes ":o" and then she smiles really brightly and .. instant tears because she's so happy? "OH MY GOD- BRUNO! BRUNOOOOOO! LOOK! LOOK! MISTA! GIORNO!!!! F O R G. It is Forg. His name Booby"

Hello sweet nonnie mouse, awww that's adorable and, I see him doing the same as well to be honest. I'm sorry for these being quite short my sweet, but take this gif of Gio with a frog as an apology 🥺💜🐞💭😘

It is believed that you can tell a lot about a person's true character by how they treat those who are defenceless or have less power than them. This has been something that Giorno had taken to heart given his complex past experiences and the people he has encountered throughout his life.

When Bruno brought you into the team you were like a ray of sunshine, gently illuminating your surroundings wherever you went. The team had immediately taken to you, everyone enjoying your warm, comforting energy.

Giorno though, was immediately taken with your pleasant disposition, and found himself constantly looking at you and seeking out your company whenever he could. His missions were often shared with you as well, which meant that the amount of time you both spent with just each other had increased as well.

As hard as he was falling for you though, he tried to guard himself until he knew for sure that you were a good person. He knew that there was a lot that could be hidden behind pretty eyes, a charming smile and a warm disposition, he had had firsthand experience of that.

For as long as he's known about his life imbuing ability, Giorno had created little creatures, however, when he discovered the unique nuances to this ability, he's used it to test the people in his life, by creating little creatures and gaging their reactions toward the animal.

People who were cruel and wanted to hurt the animal were beyond reproach, and were immediately written off by him. Fear was something else entirely, a response that was largely uncontrollable, and that kind of response made Giorno feel terribly guilty, but cruelty was something he could not tolerate.

On a bright sunny day when the gang was walking about on a patrol, Giorno transformed a little pebble into a tiny little frog and sent it after you, to see how you would react to it.

At first you didn't notice the cute creature jumping around until it jumped up on your leg and then onto your torso

You froze for a second before gasping in surprise.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Giorno, Bruno! Look at how cute it is. Oh it's so tiny and adorable. Mista, do you wanna carry him?" you excitedly say as you ever so gently cup the tiny amphibian in your hands.

Narancia, Trish and Mista smiled knowingly at each other after realizing that this was Giorno’s doing, having pulled the same trick on them before.

You found yourself taken with your cute little friend, musing about possible names for him, however, what you didn't notice is how enamored Giorno was with his cute, gentle friend walking beside him.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Lena Retrospective: The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck! or Why Does Lena’s Darkest Hour Have a WACKKKYY Bigfoot Subplot?

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to Shadow Into Light, my look back the LIfe and Times of Lena Sabrewing. And we’re almost at the end of season 1. Woo-Ooo!. While i’ll have more season 1 episodes to cover for it’s sister arc, this is the last episode in this arc before the finale.. and i’m happy to repeat that next week will be DUCK WEEK as a result, finsihing up this arc and the Della arcs, as well as dipping into season 2 a bit for Lena’s return to celebrate the finale of this wonderful show. Full disclosure: I didn’t PLAN for it this way, I assumed the show would be ending in April, but sometimes serendipity just works out for you. So pitter pat er, let’s get at er.

 When we last left off Webby went on a wild duck chase for her grandma in England and 87!Webby befriended that version of Magica’s niece and told off a grown woman masquerading as a child because her husband likes being called “Daddy”. When we last left the plot proper though, we learned Lena just wanted to be free, and was willing to do whatever it took, and Magica was getting more abusive and more impatient. And if you thought the end to Jaw$! was pretty sad and dark.... strap in and steel yourself as we take a look at one of the darkest episodes in the series.

The opening sets the stage perfectly as we’re in Scrooge’s Room in the middle of the night, when Lena comes in.. with a knife. 

Naturally she dosen’t have baked goods, but instead is trying to cut the knife from around his neck while Magica won’t shut up while she works and keeps distracting her and BLAMING her for getting distracted. As for the knife it’s glowing and mystic because naturally, Scrooge doesn’t trust just ANY string but a magically woven one to hold his dime. Unlucky for her her girlfriend walks in at the exact moment she’s standing over her idol holding a mystical knife. I don’t think hallmark makes a card for “Sorry I was lying to you for months for my abusive aunt to earn my freedom and then looked like I was about to slit your uncle’s throat. I love you though. “ Yet. 

Scrooge starts to stir so Webby pulls Lena out of there and back to her room... and flashes a lamp on her to interrogate her. Lena is able to bounce back, asking “what were you doing there”. Which NORMALLY wouldn’t last more than two minutes.. but since Webby was there to get Drool samples, maybe she wants to clone him I mean she does know a guy I think the why is something we’d rather not know about, Webby herself was a bit suspcious and Lena uses her starkerish ways to say she’d also gotten into being a Scrooge fangirl. This also allows her to ask about the dime.. but since Scrooge never takes it off, that means they have no access and both Lena and Magica are stuck watching Webby’s long presentation on Scrooge’s life story. I mean personally i’d love to see this in it’s full probably 8 hour glory but I’m not trying to earn my freedom or stuck as a shadow monster. 

It was then when watching the episode this morning.. I was reminded it had a subplot. And the instant I saw Dewey folding Louie’s shirts... I started to piece together it was the bigfoot one. 

As you can tell i’m not a fan of this subplot. It has a good core idea, riffing on “kid takes home sasquatch films” like Cry Wilderness, Big and Harry and of course the one that started it all, Harry and the Hendersons. 

It’s just bogged down by one really obnoxious trait that trips it up and is in the wrong episode entirely. We’ll get to that first scene and the plot as a whole in a moment we just need the setup in the a-story first: Scrooge privately conferring with Beakly, which Magica snoops on. While Lena didn’t get far at all in cutting the rope of his dime, she still left a knick and the fact someone got into his house, let alone his bedroom and got THAT far, means SOMETHING bad is afoot. So while he looks for it he’s putting the dime in the Other Bin for safekeeping. We’ll find out what that is in moment. For now 

Let’s Get This Stupid Sasquatch Plot Over With

We open with Louie having conned Dewey into folding his stuff for the “world laundry folding record”. I mean.. it’s greasy but I gotta respect game here. And it’s not actively harming anyone. Though we do find out from an irate Huey he’s done far worse, if in a hilarious way with Louie’s Kids, his obviously fake charity he uses to get money out of Donald. And so far into it, as Huey hid something he had in the closet and offered to Fix Louie’s stretched out hoodie, the reason he was mad at Dewey, I didn’t get why I hated it before. I wondered why I was so annoyed. Same when Huey while carrying Louie’s hoodies hears his uncle looking for something in the mansion. 

Turns out he’s got a bigfoot hiding in their closet, that he found injured int he woods and brought back and all that good kid finding a mythical creature stuff. Dewey of course loves him on first sight and both want to keep him. But unlike most of these sorts of things where the creature’s damage to the room and what not is played off or the sibling doesn’t know, Louie does see it and isn’t happy about it and only agrees to hide the furry bastard because his brothers blackmail him with his schemes, and refuse to feel sorry for him as the creatures antics continue, including drinking Louie’s special pep and eating his snacks. 

And this is where one of the plots two major issues crops up: The way Dewey and Huey act. Both just ignore any damage wooly foot does, any discomfort to Louie and any obvious downsides of this. Now Dewey being clinginly attached to a majestic creature he found and wanting to keep it? Fits perfectly, and him being mean to louie fits because louie tricked him. Huey however.. is horribly out of character, as while I could see him being charmed at first and not wanting his uncle to hunt his new friend.. he’s not an impractical boy. He’d of tried to get his new friend to the woods first thing because it’s where he’s safest from scrooge and his foot has healed. He’s also a Woodchuck and I can’t imagine the JWG says it’s okay to keep a wild animal person as a pet basically. None of it fits him and makes him into a moron for an episode solely for the plot to work. This still could’ve worked but just have Huey and Louie BOTH get suspicious, Huey later, and find out Tenderfoot is actually Gavin, whose sapient, has a phone and simply is taking advantage of them. it would’ve gone the same way: if they told Dewey , Gavin would kill them, as he threatened to do if louie told his brothers. The Gavin part though is brilliant and a really nice twist I didn’t see coming when I first saw this.  

And it would’ve made the already great climax more interesting as Huey would’ve been forced to use the methods of Louie’s he’d derided to beat a far worse scammer. Instead it’s just Louie but he doesn’t take Gavin’s threats lying down.. and comes up with a clever way to use his scam against him. He shaves Gavin, hides the razor then claims to his brother that not being in the woods means he’s dying or some such thing. So our two idiots and our hero drag them out and while they run into scrooge, Louie still saves the idiots life by manipulating him with a schmaltzy speech and they let him go despite his best attempts to stay, with Louie getting a nice “I win in there”. Overall a bit of a mess with some good ideas, but Huey suddenly taking dum dum juice really drags it down.

So in any other episode this would’ve been fine whatever just mildly obnoxious. What makes it really,  unintentionally obnoxious.. is it’s in the middle of a tense, dark, horror story that dives into the depths of Lena’s soul and ends on a really horrifying note. Case in point Louie shaves a bigfoot and gets his victory over his nemesis.. after an utterly spellbindingly horrific nightmare by Lena, easily the most terrifying moment in the entire show. Followed up with a shaved bigfoot. 

Now I could buy Disney simply forced them to do this to keep things light... except Frank’s been pretty upfront about the production process, how Disney has treated him, what they’ve said no on. So if it had been something they were forced to do, he would’ve said it. No this is just not reading the room and not thinking things through and an otherwise stellar episode suffers for it.They could’ve waited till season 2 for it, they didn’t, and this was the result. It dosen’t ruin the rest of the episode it’s too good for it, but damn if it dosen’t create mood whiplash so severe I need a neckbrace. 

The Good Part

So back at the plot anyone actually cares about, we found out what the “other bin” is when Lena asks Webby: While the Money bin is for well, money and precious keepsakes, the other bin is the stuff too dangerous to keep out in the world. And this is the guy who kept a mystical gold eating dragon, a pirate ghost, and a medusa gauntlet in his garage, and we’ll learn after this ep also keeps a giant golden aztec golem in there. NONE of that was deemed dangerous enough to put in the other bin. So Webby is understandably hesitant.. and it gets a bit unsettling when Lena manipulates her into it. While she has in the past.. she usually just nudged Webby into something she’d do anyway at worst, or showed her an r-rated movie or something harmless. While she did use her as an in she clearly cares.. so it shows how horrifically desperate she’s got she’s willing to pressure her into going into Scrooge’s most dangerous and secure location, pointing out this may be her only chance to see the Dime. 

So she reluctantly agrees, and the two head into the garage. Turns out Scrooge keeps all his junk here for more reason than just shoving it wherever it’d go, as the entrance to the other bin is hidden here. The statue that gave Manny his head is actually a clue towards the painting hiding the second bin, which itself requires one of those things used to hold up ropes and such like you’d see at a movie theater... god I miss movie theaters.. I mean watching stuff in the comfort of home is very nice, but it was nice getting out, making a day of it. I mean their around, but I really don’t want to go till one till more vaccinations have happened and it’s a lot safer to go. Wait what were we talking about? Oh right gay ducks going into a horrifying nightmare vault. But yeah the theater thingy is the key, it unlocks the entrance and our heroines head inside. 

In contrast to the modern, buisnessy welcoming bin, the other bin is basically one giant vault/prison, with everything in it securely locked inside identical doored rooms. It’s genius as it is simple: Only 6 people have likely ever had access to this place: Scrooge, Beakly, Gyro, Duckworth and MAYBE the twins. Even Della and Donald being allowed down here is an unknown. The non-scrooge people are only because someone besides him needs to maintain it, keep any creatures fed, that sort of thing and he’d only trust his butler and his housekeeper, who are also both extraordinarily badass, to do so. Gyro is because someone needed to design the cells. I also wouldn’t be surprised if Quackfaster was a 7th since season 3 casts her as Scrooge’s magic expert and he’d likely need specific runes for specific cells. He’d want as few people down here as possible, and even fewer knowing. I’m sure Bradford knew, and i’m also certain it’s the one thing he never quibbled about the expense as while he hates what Scrooge stands for and tried to curb his “chaos” as much as possible.. this is doing exactly what Bradford likes: locking it away where it can’t hurt anybody. Plus quibbling about it might make Scrooge want to show it off to him and that’s.. that's’ a whole lotta nope in a 2 pound bag. 

So for once Webby is very hesitant and very cautious, though naturally Magica points out a door.. and Lena stupidly follows her advice as she knows her “aunt” is impulsive and has no regards for her safety. What did she think was going to happen? They instead find a unicorn.. or rather it’s angry murderous cousin the Sword Horse, which naturally tries goring them. I’d go with Spear Horse, but semantics. Point is Webby is soon tackled by the thing and Magica just wants to let her die. As seen before the tension between Magica and Lena has hit a breaking point: Magica is fed up with Lena’s clear feelings for webby and caring more about her than the mission.. while Lena is fed up with Magica not listening to her, respecting her as sentient being and dismissing her out of hand instead of listening to her often very valid criticism. So Lena naturally ignores her and throws her the knife, which Webby uses to get the Sword Horse back in it’s pen. And then wonders why her girlfriend has  glowing painstakingly crafted magic knife. Whoops. Webby also wants to leave but Lena convinces her to keep going. but it’s also very clear that Webby’s getting more and more reluctant and i’ts very hard to watch. You can’t blame Lena for wanting to be free of Magica: she dosen’t see her as a person, and dosen’t value her life. But it’s still hard to watc her have to manipulate the only person that loves her and do so so.. effectively. It’s easy to imagine Lena’s done this dozens of times to other people.. but not to someone she actually CARES about. 

Webby DOES figure out how the rooms work though: each one is labeled by the year Scrooge caught it. So she assumes one room she fine is the dime.. and Lena of course runs in and slams the door shut... they’ve found it. So we then get to the most terrifying moment of the series. With victory in her grasp magica roars for Lena to claim the dime, filling the room and Lena with shadow with Lena seemingly disolving.. until Magica is restored or at least partially, still a shadow. Magica has just one thing for her.. and Lena’s reactoin is terrified.. and says oh so much in just one expression it’s VERY clear Lena fears she’s about to die... if she’s lucky. Magica’s been so verbally abusive, tearing her down constantly, manipulating her constantly.. why WOULD Lena expect anything good? Why would she expect anything other than pain or death? So a hug is a surprise.. as is Webby who assumes she’s being attacked... and is clearly heartbroken that’s not the case and runs for Scrooge when Magica admits the truth... only for Magica to seemingly kill her, turning her into a doll resembling the original Webby

Yeah at this point it’s obvious something’s up.. but before we can get to the natural reveal at the end of this horror show, Lena demands Magica change her back... only for a fight to naturally ensue with Magica rubbing the way Lena’s treated Webby in her face: How she manipualted her, lied to her and used her. Even if it was for more noble reasons.. she never told her any of this or tried to and is now directly responsible for her death. She’s a monster.. and then Lena’s amulet activates.. and seemingly finishes the job. 

Then Lena wakes up. This was simply one of SCrooge’s artifact, one Webby mentioned earlier off hand and Webby rescues her. It was all a nightmare.. easy to see given Webby was seemingly killed or turned into a doll at points.. but besides making Lena realize how while not as bad as her aunt, she ahsn’t been great.. it also gives us a painful look into her head and how she sees both Magica and Webby. With Magica.. it’s again VERY clear Magica verbally abuses her, depersons her and is in general a horrifiingly relastic depection of a domestic abuser. But it’s also telling Magica hugs her... while Lena didn’t expect it, this is all her subconcious mixed with a magical cursed artifact, it’s clear that deep down one of the things she wants most.. is for Magica to LOVE HER. 

That is just... it hurts so much.  She just wants a Mom.. and even then her subconcious can’t give her THAT because it knows the truth. Granted the nightmare thing might of had something to do with it, but still, the fact is deep down she knows Magica dosen’t care about her but she WANTS her to. As with Webby, she fears Magica is right, that all her gaslighting has had an effect and Webby would run away the second she found out. When as we’ll learn.. that’s not true at all. She’s deeply hurt... but she still belivies in her. But Lena can’t even see that. She’s been beaten down so much by someone constnatly telling her no one will ever love her she belivies it herself and all her mind and the dreamcatcher can do is pummel her over and over again with what she feels about herself, what she’s KNOWN about how she treats webby even if she had no way out otherwise, how wrong it’s felt. Just holy shit it’s a lot to take in. 

But all this trauma has made Lena realize she truly does love Webby and this isn’t worth it.. she’ll find some other way out or figure out something, for now their leaving. She’s not dying for this.. not for her. They happen to run into Scrooge who, due to the WACKY BIGFOOT SUBPLOT THAT HAPPENED RIGHT AFTER THE ABOVE SCENE, no I will not let that go even going back to Frank’s twitter asks he outright said it was their darkest plot paired with one of their most insane, he knew what he was doing. Turns out cleverly he kept the Dime in vault one. As he puts it “They never think to check the first one”. Smart. He also keeps his worry room down here. Just a note I wanted to mention. 

He does chide them, and Lena takes the full fall.. but suprisingly he dosen’t ban her from his home or anything, he just asks they be honest and would’ve gladly showed the dime off to them both if they’d just asked. Once Scrooge and Webby walk off far enough Magica berates her again..but Lena is done. She’s realized from her own horrifying nightmares that NO amount of freedom is worth what Magica will get out of this, that her own soul isn’t worth the death of the one person she cares about: Webby will fight her and she might not make it. She loves her more than she fears Magica. And even if it means loosing Webby.. she knows who can stop him. Unfortunately.. this is not a happy ending as Magica simply takes full control. And now has Scrooge’s full trust. 

Final Thoughts: This episode is one half a masterpiece. The parts with Lena are to this day, as we approach the very last episode, some of the show’s finest writing and Lena’s nightmare is easily the darkest scene in the series, and only not the most gutwrenching.. because we’re getting to that next week. It finishes the first leg of her character arc, with her selfishness all gone, and the only thing she wants is Webby’s hapiness. Granted that leads to a whole nother character arc over her season 2 episodes, but we’ll get there. Point is she’s realized her manipulations are wrong and not worth the cost, and that she’ll never get anything good out of Magica. Freedom.. will take just a bit longer. It’s eerie to watch, uncomfortable as Lena sinks to her lowest point before climbing out of it, and with a very tense atmosphere the whole time, the bin having a smothering uncomfortableness as we know there’s tons of horrible things here.. but we don’t know what. 

So on it’s own it’d be one of the series best episodes, and the plot itself is still one fo the series best.. but it’s weighed down by one of the series worst plots. Still tame compared to a lto of other series worst moments but being paired with something so dark and excellent really shows how fucking stupid this plot was and made it that much more grating. It just clashes badly. Thankfully the crew did learn from this fiasco to the point we got one of the series best episodes “Escape from the Impossibin!”. That one seemingly has two light enough plots, Scrooge, Louie and Della escaping from the bin and Webby stalking the boys, but in a comedic ic still messed up fashion.. but both take a sharp left at just the right time as to not clash: the full implications of what Webby’s doing and her physical fight with Bentina happen around the same time Scrooge breaks down and confesses he’s scared he can’t win this time. The episode gets really dark in the second half but it eases into it and slowly makes it’s way to it, building to it with some laughts to disarm it. But stuff like robo scrooge or the timeloop room, or the timeloop room, or the timeloop room, or the oh thank god i’ts broken. That stuff isn’t SO wacky or out of place that it detracts from the other plot. They compliment each other. Here it’s just two plots that don’t work together at all joined together for some reason.  So yeah overall a very mixed bag of an episode and if you do want to watch or rewatch it.. just skip the bigfoot subplot> it’s not worth it. 

Next Time on Shadow Into Light: It’s all come down to this. Magica finally ges what she wants. The Shadow War is Night.. but before I can tell you that story we have a bit of ground to cover so..

Next on this Blog: The family minus Beakly ends up in Greece. Dewey is forced to deal with his fears about his mom, Scrooge is forced to deal with his old rival Zeus, and Donald is forced to deal with an unwanted admirerer. Spanikopita!

If you liked this review, follow for more, feel free to contribute to my patreon, and feel free to commission a review of your own. Until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure. 

[clearsky]

My Top Comfort Characters/Kins and My Main HCs For Them

(Note, not all my kins/comfort characters are on here, just the ones I have more than 5 hcs for)

CW: Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3), Himiko Yumeno (DRV3), Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA), Kyoko Kirigiri (THH), Tsuyu Asui (BNHA), Entrapta (Spop), Ibuki Mioda (SDR2), Celestia Ludenberg (THH), Funtime Foxy (FNAF), Peril (WOF)

Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3)

Nonbinary

He/They pronouns

Autistic

Chains and loose accessories are for stimming

Likes the feeling of silk and cotton

Can't stand the feeling of anything rough or bumpy

He likes collecting small trinkets and the bones of small mammals

Can't stand anything salty. He'll eat it but he certainly won't enjoy it

Dating Rantaro

Can flirt, but only if he doesn't try

Petnames are a hell yea

Gets sunburnt really easily

Group dates with Celesnaegiri and Ikuzono

Can't cook for s h i t

Had a scene kid phase in middle school

Went to the same middle school as Celeste and Maki

Knew them when Celeste went through her "I'm not like other girls" phase and Maki was a Band Kid™

Himiko Yumeno (DRV3)

Female

She/Her pronouns

Lesbian

Can force herself to fall asleep within seconds regardless of where she is

100% forces herself to fall asleep when she doesn't wanna listen/talk to someone

Himiko/Angie/Tenko relationship. I'm calling them the Traffic Light Trio

She likes taking naps in the forest

She prefers enclosed/tight spaces more than open ones

Has several hundred stress balls and squishies laying around

She overheats easy

Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA)

Questioning his gender, but goes by any pronouns

Knows he's Asexual, at least

Has no clue what his romantic orientation is though

The kind of person to carry treats in his pocket just in case he runs into a cat

Will stop to pet literally every cat he comes across

Great at reading people

Doesn't talk unless it's 100% needed

Hangs with Tokoyami, Jirou, and Denki most often

Aizawa has 100% unofficially adopted him

Fosters kittens

Not a big fan of physical touch

He is 100% in the bakusquad. Anyone who says he's in the Dekusquad is a c o w a r d

He and Tsuyu vibe

Knows a bunch of random facts

Dark humour? Dark humour

*skates backwards into his therapist's room slowly sipping from an absurdly huge cup of coffee* Candice you're not gonna BELIEVE the shit I just went through

In case I forgot to mention it, he skates

Kyoko Kirigiri (THH)

Mtf

She/Her

Bi with female preference

Burns go up to her shoulders/collarbone/chest

Prefers to just listen as opposed to saying anything

Knows a ton of random trivia about everyone else in her class

She keeps a notebook she fills with all the trivia

Doesn't celebrate her birthday. She just doesn't see the point of it

Doesn't hate sugar/sweets, but if given the choice she would choose literally everything else

Cuts her own hair

A cat person

Permanent dark circles

T-Tall 😳

Like,,, 6'1 at LEAST

Only person taller than her is Yasuhiro (6'3)

Canon no longer exist

Ahahaha healthy life habits? What are those?

Can't handle horror games

She's the kind of person you'd go to if you needed to rant but didn't want any advice

Polyamourous yo

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

She's a dom yall are just scared to admit it

Tsuyu Asui (BNHA)

They go by They/Them

Lesbian

They and Ochaco are dating

They like to hang with Shinsou

Which mainly just means the two sitting in one of their dorms in near total silence doing whatever

Can speak English and French as well as Japanese

Learned English from cartoons

Picked up French bc they thought it'd be fun

Prefers to stay neutral in the whole Bakusquad / Dekusquad thing

They're invited to all outings/events by/for both squads

They like puns

They're a dumbass but willingly, and for fun

Like "someone says they like dark humour and they'll turn off the lights before telling a joke" kind dumbass for fun

Great at poker

Likes Disney Movies

Very touchy once you get close enough

Not in a sexual way, just likes physical contact

Especially fond of piggyback rides and cuddles

Extreme fear of needles

Entrapta (She-Ra)

She/Her or It/Its

Doesn't bother trying to figure out whether she's cis, trans, nonbinary, or what

Was AMAB though

Short as fuck (4'7)

Strong as fuck though

Cuddle game strong

Physical touch is a fuck yes

Cuddles

Piggyback rides

Hugs

Anything where she's touching someone is wonderful in her book

As long as she's the one that initiates it

Anyone else touching her without her permission makes her freak

Prefers being high up

Makes it harder for anyone to sneak up on her

An ace at video games

When it comes to sexuality she just says she's Questioning

Ibuki Mioda (SDR2)

Any pronouns + Pup/Pupself + It/Its

No idea what their gender is otherwise

Biromantic Asexual

Just likes sexual jokes

Gets distracted easily

Has severe hearing problems

She's plays her instruments as loud as possible, with the amp right next to her, without ANY ear protection

It's caused some damage

She talks so loud bc she has no idea how loud is considered acceptable

Wears hearings aids most of the time

Several piercings and tattoos

Likes hearing things jingle

She has a bracelet with a few bells hanging from it

She'll shake it whenever she's bored

LOVES hair accessories

Ribbons are a particular favourite

Occasionally she'll hang little charms from her hair "horns"

The kind of person who never takes any pills/medicine bc she keeps forgetting she has to

Frequently uses emojis

Skates everywhere but she isn't very good at it

She keeps crashing into everything

Has broken every bone in her body at least 3 times

Most of which was bc she keeps trying to kick in doors and skating down the stairs

Celestia Ludenberg (THH)

Nonbinary

Any pronouns, mainly goes by She/They

Bi, 70:30

Collects mini hand sanitizers and can tabs

Has single handedly gotten Mario Kart, Mario Party, Monopoly, Uno, and Clue banned a grand total of 17 times (and counting)

The kind of person to purposefully target someone regardless of what game was being played

Favourite victim is Byakuya (bc he gets so upset about it and she finds that hilarious)

Mains Waluigi

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

Has several banned Twitter accounts bc whenever she's bored she'll start discourse on purpose

Hangs with Korekiyo, Ibuki, Byakuya, Yasuhiro, and Leon most often

It's a weird friend group but everyone's sorta gotten used to it

She and Byakuya gamble together occasionally

She tries to avoid it bc he'll willingly blow his entire fortune in an attempt to beat her

Autustic

Can't stand the feeling of water

Mainly bc she can't swim for shit

Horror movies? Hates them

Gets flustered super easily

Taka is her twin brother

Kotoko, Kokichi, and Gundham are their half siblings (Same father)

Peko and Toko are their cousins

She sucks ass at go fish

Fuck canon she's 4'11 now

C h u b b y

Freckles

Once she gets comfortable enough with herself she dyes her hair in the peekaboo style

Either black and red or black and blonde

Haven't decided yet

I'll be doing Celesnaegiri hcs as a seperate post but I just feel it's important for you to know that she expresses her affection verbally and is a very touchy person

Went to middle school with Maki and Korekiyo

Has horrible eyesight

She wears contacts most of the time but she always puts off buying more

After the 5th or so time she ended up blindly stumbling around a week after her contacts ran out Kyoko convinced her to buy glasses as well

Religious accessories yo

Like chokers and dangly earrings with crosses and pentagrams and shit

Likes wearing wacky earrings

Can run and do all sorts of tricks in heels

She and Mukuro are exes yo

Keeps her hair short so it's easier to manage

Hair never gets longer than her shoulders if she can help it

She seems like the kind of person who'd keep her bangs grown past her eyes regardless of how frustrating or inconvenient it is

She's a sub yall just don't wanna admit it

Funtime Foxy (FNAF)

I'm going on the record to say this

Funtime Foxy is genderfluid and that is that

Goes by Funtime

Any pronouns, They/Them most commonly

Plays music (keyboard and guitar mainly)

They and Funtime Freddy (Freds) mainly play with the kids

Freds mainly tells stories with Bonbon while Funtime more so plays one-on-one

Has nicknames for everyone

Circus Baby - Ringleader

Ballora - Bells

Funtime Freddy - Partner

Bon Bon - Bun

Peril (WOF)

I like both Nonbinary She/They Peril and Mtf She/Her Peril

They're both such good concepts

She's a lesbian, Harold

She only had a crush on Clay bc he was pretty much everything she was supposed to like in a guy

Gimme a moment while I force all my mental disorders onto this poor child

Autistic, Anxiety (Social anxiety, mainly, but she has most types), Adhd, PTSD

I'd like to reiterate yet again that She's a lesbian

Sunny and Glory were her gay awakening

Peril in Book 1: Damn, Sunny and Glory sure are pretty. Anyone would be lucky to date them. Clay would probably go for them over me. He would be stupid if he didn't. I myself would willingly date them over someone like me. They're just so pretty :(

Peril waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of arc 2: WAIT-

Rarepair alert but Peril/Sora

Peril meeting Sora: "Hmmm She's attractive. I would love to date her. Too bad I'm straight and in love with her brother lmao :P"

Peril, a mere month later, waiting for Ruby to leave Jade Mountain, pacing in her cave, running face first into a wall: WAIT-

I remember reading this one amazing story where Sora taught Peril to read/write and Peril found out she set off the bomb and comforted her/convinced her her run so that's canon now

Btw if anyone can remember what that story was called/what platform it was on and could tell me I'd appreciate it very much

I'd even be willing to draw a character of your's or make you an icon or something

I usually don't accept requests bc I get burnt out easy but this is a special case

She runs into Sora again sometime between the beginning of TOP and the end

I like to imagine she just goes wandering around

Anyway she confesses like a mere few minutes after running into her again bc Peril is just subtle like that

The actual confession takes 15 minutes and the entire time Sora is just sitting here like "👁👄👁 sure"

Bam Peril/Sora

Peril plans to keep it a secret for a little while longer but she spends 3 seconds around Clay and pretty much blurts it out

Clay, who wasn't even aware that Peril was a lesbian, is just "👁👄👁"

I wanna say Clay doesn't know what a lesbian is but in my canon Sunny is a lesbian so Starflight has already told him

Anyway he's super supportive

From that point Peril is sorta open about her sexuality?

Like, she gives Clay permission to tell the rest of the D.O.D bc she isn't about to risk being in front of them when they hear the news

(When Sunny starts actively seeking her out as a hang out buddy and Tsunami, Glory, and Starflight appear to tolerate her presence just a bit more afterwards she pretends she isn't confused by the change)

She's pink, white, and blue bc I said so

If you look at a certain angle in the right lighting her eyes, mouth, fire, and under her scales all look purple

But her fire is normally white and blue bc I said so

Also she pale as fuck bc in my canon their fire just sorta burns their colour away

You know how you leave something outside for too long and it gets sunbleached? Where it gets all washed out?

Like that but more extreme

By the age of 10-12 firescale dragons are just white with pale eyes

That's right not even the eyes are safe

Ram horns :P

I'm also fond of Peril/Sunny

Or maybe Peril/Sora/Sunny

But Peril/Sora is the main thing

On the topic of that bringing in my hc that if one sib in a sib group is fire resistant all of them are

She,,, She can change her scale colour

But only slightly and only if her emotions are strong enough

Bc I don't give a fuck about Darkstalker's scroll we were robbed of hybrid Peril

Unfortunately all of Peril's emotions are strong

Rainwing ruff along her head and neck

It's like a hood

It's mainly smoothed to her sides but when she's startled it flares out

RAINWING PUPILS

Y'all will know what those look like as soon as I get off my ass :P

She,,, She can mimic bird cries

Hates the summer

She has more than enough body heat already and the outside is just hot enough to add on and make her feel sick

She can somewhat control her heat but most of the time it's based on her emotions

It can go from standing-in-the-middle-of-a-burning-building-cant-see-your-nose-smoke-is-so-thick heat (Strong emotion) to Hey-thats-a-nice-cozy-campfire heat (Calm/"weak" emotion/Sleeping)

I'm just gonna make a different post with all my Peril hcs cuz there isnt enough room for all of them here

[drstone-writings]

POMEGRANATE TEAAA PWEEEASE :3

Hi, anon! I don’t know which character you have ordered LMAO that’s why I chose the five generals ft. Tsukasa! I hope you will like this one! 💚💚

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

pomegranate tea; at what point did they know they loved their s/o?

—Senku Ishigami

Senku doesn’t know about the feeling of love, yes. But, he knows that he likes you, not in deep meaning, but instead, in an admiration way for having the basic knowledge of science and also for having incredible stamina that God didn’t grant him. Not only that, but you’d also try to help him in some way when he was in need of something, you’re always there to aid him despite not needing some assistance. However, one faithful day, Senku had realized that he felt the strong emotion that was permeating inside his heart, an unknown and strange emotion yet he had the knowledge of what it was. Who would expect that the scientist who called love as illogical was now in a situation where he felt such sentiment towards a person, and now admitted to himself that he is indeed in love with you. When did he realize it?

It’s actually the time where the sun had finally descended and the moon was now present in the vast sky. He saw you sitting on the tree branch where Kohaku would usually sleep on, staring into space where countless of stars covering the dark firmament. If you were Kohaku, he would only shrug you off and let himself stare at the sky as well and climb on the roof of the hut. However, it’s not the case. His eyes were transfixed on you, whose face has this tranquil and contented expression, eyes were sparkling in wonder as you watch the stars twinkling with the others.

Senku was captivated; he was entranced at your beautiful face, seemingly glowing due to the moonlight striking every crevice of your features, defining every little of it. You don’t know how charming you look in Senku’s eyes, he felt like his vision was becoming blurry but only focused on you, like a camera where it would only focus on the thing that is beautiful.

Suddenly, you turned your gaze at him and flashed your utmost sweet smile that he had never received before from you, he was caught off guard and as if the time had slowed down and the Earth had stopped from rotating from its orbit. He had no idea as well as to why he could also felt his heart thumping in excitement and felt the butterflies flapping inside his abdomen. But earlier he wasn’t feeling this, only now when he settled his eyes on you. And that’s when Senku came into a realization.

“Fuck, I love her do I?” he snickered while running his fingers through his hair.

— Gen Asagiri

Gen is a cunning man, a man where he could easily discern what others were thinking and feeling. Like duh? He was called a mentalist for a reason. Ever since the day where he suddenly appeared in the Ishigami village and met you, he felt the urge within him that he wants to know you for some unidentified reason. That is why Gen ventured to approach you at the first day, he thought that you would hate his guts because he was one of Tsukasa’s underlings and you knew that he might be the reason that your friend will die in front of your eyes.

However, it was just his mere assumption, he was taken aback at your approach to him, and he assumed that you would ignore him for the whole day but instead, you talked to him as if the two of you were back in the modern era. He was utterly stunned and found it comical, to be honest. Gen abruptly felt he’s special or something since you would even bestow him a sincere smile and talk to him as if your friend is not in danger.

Gen is known as the magician as well, there’s a time where he would occasionally show you his magic tricks in which you were amazed because you don’t know how he did that. Ahh, you don’t know how you’re heightening Gen’s confidence and he couldn’t help but widely smile internally because of how you praise him. He knew to himself that he was indeed attracted to you; he likes you as a woman.

Gen only realized that he surely fell into your gravity at the day where he was nearly killed by Magma. You’re the one who stayed beside him and treating his wounds with Senku’s herbal medicines. Every time you would patch some herbs on the bruises that he had received, he felt some electricity flowing through his veins whenever he could feel the graze of your fingers on his skin so tenderly that it seemed like you were some angel playing the harp and for Gen, he was the instrument you’re playing. In the middle of the night where he suddenly woke up because he felt something heavy on his arms, and thus, he saw you sleeping quietly beside him, making his left arm as your pillow. Gen felt his heart flutter at the sight, and thus he was certain.

“You caught me, (Name). You indeed caught me with your charms.”

— Chrome

We all know that Chrome likes Ruri to the point where he tried to collect many materials for decades to save her and treat her unknown illness. But we also know that feelings are like a climate, they change in no time. Before, his eyes were only set on Ruri because ever since they were little, they’ve been always together and they knew each other. However, fate seemed like to mess up with his life. Ever since Senku and you had suddenly appeared in the village, his life changed immediately and his feelings turned into chaos.

Why? It’s because he couldn’t avert his gaze away from you every time you’d give him a saccharine smile and praise him for giving lots of ideas and creating things that he doesn’t know that it already exists in your age, despite that he doesn’t have any knowledge on what it looks like. Chrome could feel his stomach flipping whenever you’d also pat his head and ruffle his hair, even his heart was pounding tremendously as if he couldn’t breathe.

Chrome convinced himself that it’s just a mere attraction and admiration and nothing deeper than that. He assured himself that his heart already belongs to Ruri and never would he love someone that isn’t her. But it was inevitable, it was uncontrollable for him not to gaze at you and fall in the depths of your world. It seemed like he became a marionette and you’re the one who’s controlling him with your hands.

One day, Chrome was sitting on the tree branch, thinking on what is going to happen in the grand bout. He’s aware that he’s not the fighter type, he only has the brains. He prayed to the Gods that they could win the bout and save Ruri’s life. As he was in his deep thoughts, suddenly he felt a slight blow of the wind had passed him, hence Chrome craned his neck to look beside him and he felt his heart thumped again for you. But what surprised him was when you swiftly ruffled his hair without his permission and flashed him your sincerest smile that absolutely captivated him. It seemed like you were glowing in this dark place, making it harder for him to avert his gaze. And that’s when Chrome finally accepted the reality; he really is indeed in love with you.

“You’re too irresistible for my own good, (Name),” Chrome thought, giving you a small smile as well.

— Ukyo Saionji

Ukyo has a soft spot for everyone; he dislikes war and especially shedding blood just for the sake of their own benefit and victory. Before he met you, he never felt this strange of emotion that he had this urge to stare and watch someone in every move that they would do, but today is not the same anymore. Between the battle of Tsukasa and Senku, he had suddenly gained a blow from protecting Senku, he was not severely injured but still, his muscles were aching and it’s making him difficult to move. He was about to ask Senku for some herbal medicine to treat himself, however, before he could get out from his tent, you suddenly walked in with some herbal medicine in your hands.

You’re the one who tended his wounds and even accompanied him inside his tent until he was perfectly healed. He was indeed grateful to you and even tried to joke around with him to cheer him up even though he was emotionally okay. Ever since that day, both of you started to know each other and would always search for more food for everyone. Being with you was enjoyable and he will admit that. You won’t let the awkwardness and silence to befall on you two and you would try to make him laugh in your own ways.

Ukyo never noticed that he was slowly becoming fond of your presence to the point when you were busy hanging out with Yuzuriha and helping her, he would check on you and even asked how your day was. He was seriously becoming fidgety and couldn’t stay still until he would take a glimpse at your face. Ukyo perceives you as the compassionate and generous person, of course, he knows about that since he has been observing you interacting with everyone.

But Ukyo only realizes that he has these romantic feelings for you and hardly fell for you is the day when Chrome’s excavation team which you were a part of it as well went to the Ishigami Village to spend the night after searching for the oil that Senku needs for the vessel. The children in the village had taken a liking to you and would even play with them after convincing you without any effort. Seeing you having fun with the kids, laughing and playing with them, you have no idea how he was so intoxicated at watching you. Why? It’s because in his view you were like a crystal clear lake in the middle of the unknown place, gloriously sparkling with the rays of the sun striking the surface of the water. He was utterly enthralled and could feel his heart beating quickly in every minute that would pass in just by staring at your pure and lovely face. That’s when he finally concluded;

“I won’t regret falling in love with you, right, (Name)?”

— Ryusui Nanami

Ahh, Ryusui, of course, your first rendezvous is nothing important to him; it’s like the usual encounters he had back in your era. When he first laid his eyes on you, he definitely admitted to himself that you’re beautiful… in your own way by all means. Because Ryusui had this ideology that women in the world are beautiful. Which is actually nice to hear from a charming and rich guy but to you, you don’t really care. At first, when he tried to compliment your good looks, you only gave him a wry smile before saying your thanks. He thought that you would be embarrassed about it but it’s actually the contradiction of his presumption.

Apparently, you piqued Ryusui’s interest to which he didn’t stop from trying to get to know you and use his good communication skills. To be honest, this is the first time he has been so eager to know someone, it’s all strange to him. In spite of that, he will attempt to know you better. Don’t underestimate the Nanami heir. As the days passed by pestering you while in your work, he finally got what he wanted by knowing you, he assumed that he might have a hard time from knowing about yourself, but instead, it was easy-peasy for him since you’re answering his questions in an instant.

Since Ryusui’s daily routine is to bother you in your work or would even watch you help the others with their tasks, he suddenly felt himself smiling unconsciously while watching you. He only noticed it when Suika asked him as to why he’s smiling at himself. He immediately composed himself and left without saying anything, because his mind was swirling with a lot of thoughts, including the question that Suika had asked him. But what was overwhelming his mind is why he’s enjoying on watching you and felt something fluttering inside his stomach. These new emotions that were popping like a mushroom were making him confused because first of all, it was all too foreign for him.

After a week of not visiting and seeing you since he was trying to distinguish the different emotions that he was feeling. One faithful night really changed Ryusui in a wink. Sitting inside his cabin and was in his deep thoughts, he suddenly heard a knock on his cabin’s door; hence he checked it out to know who the one was bothering him in this late at night. Once he opened the door, his eyes widened upon seeing you in his doorstep, holding a basket of fruits in your hand. You told him that you were checking up on him since you haven’t seen each other for a week and you’re worried for him. After that meeting, you don’t know how Ryusui’s heart fluttered knowing that you’re concerned for him and made his ego boosted to the highest level. He was beyond pleased at what you said that night, for Ryusui you’re like the tidal waves in his expedition with his vessel, seemingly drawing him towards an unknown place which is for him, your world. Ryusui only laughed at himself for not noticing it sooner, he couldn’t believe himself that he fell in love after thousands of years.

“How unexpected of me, you surely caught my heart, (Name), you’re the only one who can do that.”

— Tsukasa Shishio

Back in your generation, you have always been beside the well-known strongest primate high schooler, Shishio Tsukasa. He met you during winter; he was sitting on a bench in the quiet playground. The snow was falling on him and he couldn’t care less about how cold it was since his mind was deep in thoughts, thinking about how he could save his little sister. And all of sudden, you appeared out of nowhere and held the umbrella over him. After that first meeting with him, that’s also the beginning of your friendship with him.

When Tsukasa was revived by Senku and killed him with his own hands, he built his own empire to only revive the youth and shatter the statues of the older ones. The first one who he revived was you, he was relentlessly looking for your statue and he actually managed to find you in just a day. He told you everything and you quickly caught up with his explanation but you didn’t agree with his ideology since you don’t want him to become a murderer. Nevertheless, you only leave him be even if you’re strongly opposed to him.

In months of living in this stone world, Tsukasa has been observing you and watching you talking with everyone. He was glad that you’re adjusting to this kind of living and trying to get along with all the people that he had revived. He knew how understanding and kind-hearted you were, that’s why it didn’t take him a while to give you his trust and befriended you. He reminisces all the memories that you both had, starting from your first meeting and always there for him when he needed someone. You would listen to his ramblings and how you would lift his spirits up when he’s not in a good mood. Tsukasa couldn’t help but smile at the pleasant and valuable memories he had.

Winter arrived as the snow was piling up and covering the whole place. Tsukasa immediately remembered your first meeting again and smiled upon recalling it. He tried to look for you in your tent however you weren’t there, therefore he asked his comrades if he saw you, which he was kinda pleased when one answered him that you went to the cliff where you would usually hang out. Tsukasa didn’t waste a second to go to you, as he reached his destination, his eyes settled on your form who’s looking up while the snow was falling down on your face. He stared at you with pursed lips, trying to engrave it in his mind how stunning you look with the winter scenery the lies before you. Suddenly, he felt his heart pounded against his ribcage, he’s once again feeling the overwhelming emotions he’d felt when taking a glimpse at your face. He never tried to know these inexplicable feelings he harbored for you, but today, it seemed like he found his answer to his question. He loved you ever since, did he?

“How can I not love, (Name)? It’s inevitable not to love her.”

[broadwaytheanimatedseries]

Once Upon A Time, In A Far Away Land... - AU:

The legend says that King Raymond, then still a Prince and an adventurer, went to find the terrible threat known as the dragon witch, that has been rumored to have hurt innocent people and was the cause of great distress for a long time. What he found was a lovely, beautiful woman with charm and wit and a heart of gold, who's reputation had been tainted by those who tried to steal from her and payed the price when she defended herself.

It was then and there that the king decided he would do anything to make her happy.

Many years later, and the two married and had a family together. Three beautiful boys. Two of them ordinary looking twins, and the younger one seemingly half dragon and half human.

Now of course not everyone in the kingdom was immediately on board with their new queen, not did they all approve of the princes, especially the young one. But eventually, most of them came around, or at the very least knew better than to voice their negative opinions.

The years pass and the children grow up. Roman and Remus learn magic and swordsmanship, both being more talented in the latter, and they go on lots of adventures, both together and separately.

while Drake learns all that and more, doing his best to perfect all his skills but being especially talented in magic. he wants to be able to always have the right answers, to never be caught unprepared.

Unfortunately, he is caught very unprepared.

One day, while adventuring in a part of the woods rumored to be overtaken by the misfits and rebels of the kingdom, Roman and Remus are caught in one of their traps.

"well well well, a couple of trespassers." A hooded figure teased, eyes lighting up in amusement.

"those are no ordinary trespassers! It seems we're in the company of royalty!" Replied a man with glasses who didn't seem that mean compared to the hooded figure.

"Vee did good job with those traps, I gotta hand it to him." Said the woman among them, sounding pleasantly surprised.

The twins were too weak from their previous fight to do much, and they could only stare angrily as they waited for one of the rebels to speak.

Finally, the woman gave an order.

"R, Em, escort our guests. I'll go tell boss the wonderful news."

Hours later, as Drake was pacing in his room and his parents were sitting in the throne room patiently waiting for news on the whereabouts of their sons, all knowing it isn't like them to disappear for this long without giving a proper warning.

Finally, a message came, from the leader of the forest dwellers.

"if you wish to see your sons, there are matters to discuss. I will come to the forest's entrance every night for the next three days. Send a representative, they must come alone. We shall see if we can come to an agreement that's favorable for both sides. Should you fail to accept this offer, we will have no choice but to keep the princes as our prisoners. Their transgressions can not go unpunished, but perhaps theit unfortunate mistake can bring about a new era, for all those who deserve a better life.

Sincerely, P. Sanders"

Drake couldn't sleep that night, knowing that his parents had no intention listening to the rebels' wishes. He couldn't help but worry what his life would be like without his brothers. He didn't like the idea of it, not one bit.

So that night, after tossing and turning in his bed for hours, he decided to do something he never thought he'd do in his life.

He snuck out of the castle to disobey his parents.

He went to the entrance of the forest to speak to the leader of the rebels. The man he saw before him, however, was not at all what he expected.

Patton Sanders has been fighting ever since he could remember himself. He was hardly the first rebel to find shelter in these woods, but with all the elders that had raised him having passed away, he became the new leader. It wasn't an easy job, but it was rewarding, and someone has to do it. He couldn't let all these poor people go without any help, not when he knew from personal experience how hard it was to survive in the kingdom for anyone who couldn't be born or marry into nobility, and who couldn't fit into whatever narrow path was set up for them.

So to see that the king and queen sent their youngest son to negotiate was... puzzling, to say the least. After all, you'd think at least one of them would want to show up to discuss a way to get their sons back.

But when he saw the prince's nervous body language, he suspected he knew what was really going on.

"greetings, Mr Sanders." the young prince gave a small bow.

~at least he cares enough to show up and be formal about it.~ Patton thinks and decides that he can allow himself to be a little nice.

"please, Mr Sanders was my father. You can just call me Patton, your highness."

"oh, alright. Well then I suppose you can address me as Drake, if you wish."

There was a moment of uneasy silence before Drake decided he'll cut to the point.

"so what is it that you want in exchange for my brothers' safe return?"

"simply put? Justice."

Drake raised an eyebrow, not in judgement or mockery but in confusion. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific."

"why is it, you think, that generations of outcasts and misfits have sought shelter in these woods? Have you considered why we'd need to seek shelter from our own kingdom?"

Drake had a few ideas, but by the look on his face they troubled him too much to express.

Patton sighed in sympathy and decided to say it himself, as he had many times before, to save the young prince (who actually was about Patton's age, although the leader looked older due to all that he's had to endure) the embarrassment.

"the kingdom is under attack from within itself. The rich and powerful are attacking the poor and helpless, by not extending to them the aid they need in order to just barely survive, let alone thrive as the nobles do. And your parents have been complacent, content to let the broken system that benefits them go on as it always had. All I want is equality. To be provided with what we need to survive and to be allowed to exist however we choose, be given the same freedom the nobles have that we had to escape from the kingdom into the forest to find. That is all the rebels have ever wanted, and it is all I ask."

Drake listens carefully, studying Patton's face for any deception or insincerity, and finds none. He sighs, tiredly, heavily.

"you know my parents didn't send me, don't you?"

"I figured as much, yes."

"so you understand this is gonna be hell on earth for me, trying to accomplish what you're asking of me, against their wishes, right?"

"indeed, but considering your choice of words, it sounds to me like you've already joined the cause."

"...unfortunately, yes." Drake couldn't help but agree. He knew it was dangerous, and would take expert planning, and would be downright impossible to achieve, but besides the fact that it was the only way to get his brothers back without starting an unnecessary war with the peaceful forest dwellers, it was also the right thing to do. And besides, Patton was very cute- convincing! Drake had meant convincing, he insisted to himself, unconvincingly. Yes the irony of that is not lost on him.

Meanwhile, At the rebels' campsite, the twin princes were surprised to find that aside from the occasional jab or tease, they were being treated rather respectfully. Sure their hands were tied to ensure they couldn't escape but they were treated more like guests rather than prisoners. In fact, they were treated like equals, which has never happened to them before. Their parents treated them like kids and, although they tried to be subtle about it, so did a lot of the older nobles, and everyone else treated them like royalty, which they were. But this was the first time they've ever had a normal conversation with people who saw them as equals.

Roman was a bit huffy at first, insisting he be treated with the respect worthy of a prince, only to be met with laughter and eye rolls. "there aren't any classes here, you're no better than anyone else. Better get used to it, Princey." said a figure standing completely in shadow, though his eyes almost glistened in the darkness, the fire reflecting off them. "let him whine, Vee. It's all he's got now." the woman he now knew as Valerie teased, and the only reason he let her get away with it is because she had bested him in combat earlier that day, when he made a daring escape attempt. Seeing as she proved herself a fierce warrior, she had his begrudging respect. But then he heard the shadowed figure chuckle in response, and the sound evoked many different emotions in him, so he decided to focus on annoyance and anger. "so, you're the Vee in charge of the cowardly contraption that ensnared my brother and I." Roman could see the eyes squint as they looked him up and down, and then a smug smirk spread across the shadow's face. "the very same. Pretty neat trick, isn't it?" "I don't know what you think is so impressive about a machine made by a man too weak and scared to best his enemies face to face." "it's efficient, and it takes a hell of a lot more wit and talent than waving a sword around like a reckless idiot." the shadow bit back, sounding very defensive. Roman would have been prouder to have gotten him riled up if it were for Valerie looking very mad at him for insulting who he now had to assume is a friend of hers. He really didn't wanna anger Valerie. "I wouldn't expect a ruffian like you to understand anything about the fine art of sword fighting." at that, the shadow growled. Well and fully growled, sending a shiver down Roman's spine, filling him with fear and... Well he was going to ignore that other feeling for now and hopefully it would go away. "okay, fuck this. Val, can you untie his hands?" Valerie's eyes went wide. "Vee, you don't have to-" "no, I want to. It's worth it to get this asshole to shut up and show some respect." Roman would have said something if he weren't intrigued by the conversation. "alright, but I don't like this." "no one's gonna get hurt. I promise." as Valerie untied his hands she glared at him. "what? How was I supposed to know he'd react this way? Also what the hell is going on?" "you'll see in a second, just don't see this as a chance to try escaping again or I'll personally knock you unconscious." "noted." as the bindings were fully removed from his hands and Valerie backed away, Vee stepped out of the shadows, allowing Roman to see him for the first time. This was already a very big problem for Roman, as he was not prepared for how hot the rebel was. To make matters worse, Roman wasn't done checking him out sizing him up, when Vee pulled a sword from where it was resting on his hip, and he held it directly at Roman's throat, just inches away from grazing his skin. And that really should not have made the blood rush to the direction it did for Roman, but his body just had the worst timing. Luckily, somehow, he still managed to focus on Vee's next words.

"you wanted to fight face to face? Fine. I, Virgil Fabre, challenge you to a duel."

And that is when Roman realized his big mistake. Well, too late to back out now.

"I accept your challenge."

Remus was ecstatic, though. He immediately started feeling more at ease and free to be himself. He didn't even mind being tied up all that much, and he made sure to get that point across with a bunch of inappropriate humor that made everyone uncomfortable. Well all except for the two men who brought them to the camp, and a third, much cuter nerd, resembling the rebel in glasses but seemingly more stoic, but even he was clearly smiling at one of Remus's crass jokes. Their eyes locked and the serious rebel blushed and turned back to resume his conversation with the men he now knew as Remy and Emile. Fuck. Finding a way to enjoy being kidnapped while waiting to be rescued or until he found a way to escape? That was one thing. But crushing on one of the rebels who was holding him prisoner? Remus would have to be a fool to act on these emotions. He glanced the other way to check on his brother and asked why he was sword fighting with one of the rebels. After being updated on what happened, he sighs heavily. Well you know what? If Roman was allowed to be stupid, and they were truly equals in this forest, then dang it Remus can do whatever Roman can do if he damn well pleases. With this new conviction, he boldly strutted over to the handsome nerd, only for Emile to give him a death glare that immediately makes him turn around.

But he's far from giving up. They all are.

Anyway thats it for this au, for now (;

Let me know what you think and as always -

Stay Tuned!

[brianamorganbooks]

The Tricker-Treater

This is a teaser of the titular story from my upcoming horror collection. You can learn more about the project and help me bring it to life here!

Moira kicked spilled candy corn off her front step. The remnants of another weeknight massacre. This time, all in the name of a holiday.

She’d stopped keeping track of the holidays.

They meant nothing, after all. Just another day full of shit, another day without Norman in it. What was the point?

She looked over at the garden gnome that Norman had polished every St. Patrick’s Day. The ghost of an old conversation floated back to her as she picked it up from where the kids had knocked it over.

Moira closed her eyes and savored the memory.

“It’s a gnome, Norm. Not a leprechaun. It’s not his holiday.”

“I know that! But don’t you think what matters is doing it?”

In the present, Moira sighed. This St. Patrick’s Day, she’d grab a rag and polish the years of grime away. So far, she hadn’t had the strength.

It was the day before Halloween. She’d picked up trash all week, and if those damn kids tried their tricks tonight, she’d give them more than treats.

Movement on the sidewalk at the mailbox caught her eye. Riley stood there, all tousled blonde hair and sleepy brown eyes. His hand-me-down sweatshirt needed elbow patches. She’d see to that soon.

“Don’t stand there gawking at me. C’mon.” She waved him forward, but he looked at his shoes. She put her hands on her hips. “What’s the matter with you?”

“He’s coming here tonight to get you,” he said.

She squinted in the morning sun. “Who’s coming to get me?”

“The Tricker-Treater,” Riley said. “He’s coming here tonight. I made a deal with him.”

“What?” Riley never spoke in riddles. He wasn’t one to loiter at the end of her driveway either. “Peanut butter cookies inside. Tell me later.”

“No, he’ll be here later. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Moira frowned. “Stop listening to your brother. Come inside and have some cookies with me and we’ll go from there.”

Without waiting to see if he’d follow, Moira headed back into the house. She went straight to the kitchen. The storm door slammed shut not too long after, and Riley pulled up a chair at the kitchen table.

Moira carried the plate of cookies over to him. Up close, he looked like the same old Riley as always. All she saw was the haunted glint in his eyes he got from spending time with Taylor. Now school was back in, all he had was Taylor until their mother got home from work. Retail was hell, Moira remembered. When Riley’s mother got home, the last thing she’d want to do was scold Taylor for tormenting his little brother.

Norman would have scared Taylor shitless, given the chance. He would have protected Riley.

Norman had always been better with kids.

“Lots of trick-or-treaters coming here tomorrow,” Moira said. “So what makes yours so special? Why’s he coming here tonight?”

Riley froze with his hand halfway to a cookie. “Not trick-or-treater. Tricker-Treater.”

Moira shook her head. “I said that.”

“No, like… hang on.” He scooted the chair back from the table and dashed across the room to where the landline rested. There was a small pad of paper beside it. He snatched up the paper and a pen and ran back to the table. His brow furrowed in concentration. Sticking out his tongue, he leaned over the paper and spelled out the difference for her:

T-R-I-C-K-E-R

T-R-E-A-T-E-R

He set down the pen and waited for her to read his writing. Moira shook her head again. He didn’t know how to spell it.

“No ‘or,’” he said. “Tricker-Treater. He’s both.”

Something icy pricked the back of Moira’s neck. She brushed her fingers over the spot and found nothing. Her gaze drifted back to the paper.

“He’s both?”

“Mmhm.” Riley grabbed a cookie and took a bite. He devoured it, careful not to make eye contact with Moira. It was a sophisticated strategy for a seven-year-old.

Moira leaned on the table and stared at him. “Riley.”

He scooted his chair away. “I gotta use the potty.”

“Do you, or do you not want to talk to me?” she asked.

He stuffed another cookie in his mouth, and when he spoke, he sprayed crumbs everywhere. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“You mean the Tricker-Treater?”

“Yeah.” He choked on the cookie and coughed. Moira grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink. She patted him on the back and slid the glass to him.

Riley chugged the water and still couldn’t stop coughing. Moira took the plate of cookies from him, because no way in hell was he going to choke to death on her watch. Not if she could help it.

“You’d better head on home,” Moira said. “You’ll worry your mother sick.”

Riley scooted back from the table again. “Don’t call her. She doesn’t know.”

“She doesn’t know you’re here? Did you stay home from school, or did you skip?”

“I...”

His eyes darted to look over her shoulder. Moira spun around. Nothing there. When she turned back to him, he was heading for the front door.

“Riley!”

“I messed up, I messed up!”

She lunged for his sleeve and missed. He was through the front door and across the yard before she had time to try again. Damn it. What was wrong with that boy? He’d been in no hurry minutes before with a plate of cookies in front of him. The minute she’d mentioned his mother though…

Moira sighed and leaned against the door frame. Something was off with Riley, and she wasn’t going to let him out of her sight until she got to the bottom of it.

When he returned a few minutes later, Moira stood between him and the front door. “Riley, please. Tell me what’s going on.”

He chewed his bottom lip. “I don’t wanna. I’m scared. It never goes well.”

“What do you mean, ‘it never goes well’?”

“Every time I tell you, it… I messed up,” he repeated.

Moira sighed. She was getting nowhere fast. Whatever he had on his mind, it upset him so much he wasn’t making sense. If she couldn’t get him to focus, she would never figure out what was going on. And, seeing as how it involved her…

“Riley.” Moira grabbed his shoulders and held him there, stooping to look into his eyes. “Whatever you think is going to happen, I can face it better if you tell me about it, okay?”

His lower lip quivered. “Even if it’s bad?”

“Even if it’s bad.”

Riley gulped. “The Tricker-Treater is gonna stop by your house tonight. You gotta meet with him and do what he says, or else.”

Moira quirked an eyebrow at him. “Or else?”

He hesitated. “Like I said, I’ve told you about him before, and he… he always makes sure to catch you. Even if you run away, he finds you and he…” Riley’s voice trailed off into a sob. Shiny, fat tears bubbled over his lashes and rolled down his face. Moira pulled him against her and wrapped her arms around him.

Shit, she hadn’t meant to make him cry. Jesus Christ, that was the last thing she wanted.

Moira’s chest tightened. “It’ll be okay, Riley. We’ll figure it out together, all right?”

Riley pulled away from her. He shook his head. “I dunno.”

“I’m older and wiser. Humor me, huh?”

He sniffed and wiped his nose. Moira debated getting a tissue for him, but it was too late—he was already rubbing the snot with his sleeve. As perceptive as the kid could be, he was still a kid, and he was gross.

Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like to have children. Sometimes she watched Riley and was glad that time had passed her.

“You should run home now,” Moira said again. “Even if you did skip school, your mom won’t be angry as long as you’re safe.”

His gaze jumped over her shoulder again. She waited for him to refocus. He’d come there in such a hurry, and now he kept drifting away. The urgency had waned. That was good.

“Are you feeling all right?”

Riley nodded. “I’m… a little better now.”

“No more getting upset over the Tricker-Treater, okay?”

Hesitation, then another nod. A slow exhale. “Okay.”

“You want a few cookies to take home? You can share them with Tyler.”

Riley wrinkled his nose at the mention of his brother. “He doesn’t deserve cookies.”

“I suppose he doesn’t.”

Moira patted him on the head and went back into the kitchen. She eyed the half-empty glass in a pool of condensation, the cookie crumbs Riley had sprayed on the table. She looked back at Riley, still standing where she’d left him, and her chest ached. She flattened a hand against her collarbone.

She and Norman could’ve tried a little longer.

“Riley?”

His head jerked up. “Huh?”

“You still want those cookies?”

“Um… no thanks.” He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his sweater again. “I’ve never stayed this late before. I don’t wanna see him.”

The poor kid was talking in circles again. Better send him off to someone much more qualified.

Moira propped a hand on her hip. “Go on, get outta here before I call your mom. And be careful tomorrow.”

Riley cast a long look at her before putting his hand on the doorknob. That was all it took? No fight? No begging her for cookies, saying he had changed his mind?

She should have insisted he take some.

If he’d still demanded some, that would have been proof things were normal.

Instead, Moira frowned at the back of his head as he walked out and left the door open.

* * *

Moira tossed popcorn into her mouth and watched Bill Murray fail to woo Andie MacDowell. There was no reason for the network to broadcast Groundhog Day on October 30, but she wasn’t complaining. It had been one of Norman’s favorite movies. They’d gone to see it in theaters the day it came out, which seemed so long ago now.

Without Norman, time dragged on. How had it only been a year since his death?

Watching a movie she’d seen more than a dozen times soothed her ragged nerves. That the movie was itself a perpetual, familiar cycle was not lost on her. In fact, that was a large part of Groundhog Day’s charm—especially tonight, when there was so much on her mind.

Riley’s behavior had left her shaken and confused. Sure, he was a kid, but he’d always been perceptive, and she trusted what he said. He usually meant what he said. At that age, it was rare for children to have ulterior motives. Whatever Riley thought was going to happen to her, it was worth considering.

The Tricker-Treater was coming to get her tonight.

Moira’s gaze jumped to the glow of the streetlight that permeated her closed blinds. Outside, the air was cold and crisp. Inside, she was cozy.

She drew the knitted afghan tighter around her midsection. Andie had slapped Bill. Normally, the moment made Moira laugh. Normally, she wasn’t wound up like a coiled snake.

The chiming of her doorbell made her jump out of her skin. She jostled the bowl in her lap, spilling popcorn everywhere.

Why was she so jumpy? It was likely Riley and his mother, coming to check on her after their talk. Riley’s mom Adriane was nice—she apologized for Riley with baked goods and wine. When she wasn’t working, she tried to come over for tea and pour out her soul to Moira.

In another life, they could have been mother and daughter.

In another life, Norman might still be alive.

Another ache struck Moira’s chest. The doorbell chimed again, demanding her attention.

She set the bowl aside and stood. Whoever it was, they were insistent. She doubted they’d go away if she ignored them.

Probably some damn kids, anyway. God willing, they wouldn’t egg her when she opened the door—for their sakes as well as hers.

She didn’t feel forgiving.

Moira crept over to the door and pulled back the curtain on the window beside the door. She had to see who had come knocking.

There was no one there.

Puzzled, she let the curtain drop and stood on tiptoe to look through the peephole.

No one.

Moira stepped back. She flattened a hand against her chest.

The doorbell chimed again.

Icy dread stuck its fingers down the back of Moira’s shirt. Her hand settled on the cold metal doorknob. After a breath, she twisted it and pulled the front door open.

And gasped.

The man—if the thing could even be called a man—stood at least seven or eight feet tall. It had to double over to fit under the awning of her porch. Pale red skin stretched tight over pointed features, most notably a bear skull. At least, she thought it was a bear skull. Norman would have known for sure. Norman always—

Coal-black eyes glittered at her as the thing bared its teeth—razor-sharp—in some semblance of a smile.

It wore nothing but a top hat, which it tipped before it spoke.

“I hope you were expecting me.”

His voice was low and smooth, like a jazz singer’s, and she shivered. Moira supposed she should have fainted or had a heart attack by then, but once he spoke, all her fear disappeared. It was like he had swallowed it up with his words.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Riley didn’t tell you? I’m the Tricker-Treater. Would you mind if I came in?”

Moira froze with her hand still on the doorknob. What was she supposed to do? The Tricker-Treater offered the illusion of a choice. Was it merely that—an illusion—or would he let her decide how the evening would progress?

Moira let her gaze wander over the creature’s form again. He had the gaunt, emaciated look of a feral dog, and the tightness in her chest only tightened even further.

Nothing about him made her think he’d give her any choice.

“C-come in,” Moira said.

The Tricker-Treater kept his eyes locked on her as he stepped over the threshold and into the house. Moira swore he brought the smell of decay inside with him, but a moment later, it was gone.

Rotting pumpkins, she thought. That was the smell.

Moira gestured for him to sit on the couch. Eldritch horror or not, he was a guest.

The Tricker-Treater sat, bones creaking and popping as he did so. Moira tried her damnedest not to wince at the noises.

She sat in Norman’s favorite armchair and waited for the Tricker-Treater to speak.

“Has Riley… told you all about me?” he asked.

Moira paused. “How do you know Riley?”

“We made a deal. He’s a special child, isn’t he? Perceptive. Tenacious.” The Tricker-Treater flashed her another chilling smile. “Fragile.”

The blood dropped out of Moira’s face. “What are you getting at?”

The Tricker-Treater steepled his long, bony fingers. “It would be a shame if any danger were to befall Riley. If you could prevent such a tragedy, wouldn’t you want to, no matter what the cost?”

Moira rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. “Don’t you dare hurt him.”

“We made a deal,” the Tricker-Treater repeated. “He asked for money so his mother could be around more often. I told him I could give him anything he wanted—such as money—for a price.”

The Tricker-Treater’s eyes made Moira’s head swim. She broke eye contact. “So that’s why you’re here. You’re going to kill me.”

She should have known this was how she would die. Norman, with all his superstitions and wonder of the paranormal, had died of a stroke in the kitchen. A nice, normal death. Meanwhile, here she was, whisked away by a monster for the sake of a child’s wish.

“Not quite,” the Tricker-Treater said. “Well, only if I must.”

Moira’s head snapped up, and she met his gaze again, even though it dizzied her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Tricker-Treater tapped his claws against the coffee table. Click, click, click. “If you play by the rules, everything will be all right.”

The sinking feeling in Moira’s gut returned. “What rules?”

The Tricker-Treater’s unnerving smile returned too. “Every game has rules, Moira. Do you want to play?”

Her stomach had dropped to her ass, and she didn’t think it would resurface anytime soon. Whoever this man—or creature—was, he wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted from her.

“What happens if I don’t want to play the game?” she asked.

“You lose.”

“And what happens if I lose?”

“Then Taylor wins.” The Tricker-Treater’s smile tore across his face. “And I take you away forever.”

Moira’s throat constricted. So he did want to kill her. Even if he acted like she had a choice, she didn’t.

Riley had already chosen for her. He had sealed her fate.

But what did Taylor have to do with it?

“Taylor?” she asked.

“To fulfill Riley’s deal, I must receive a sacrifice. He had to present me with someone he loves and someone he hates to play the game. I balance the scales. The loser dies.”

Jesus Christ, she thought, what had Riley done?

“He’s too young to make a deal like that,” she said. “You’re taking advantage of him.”

“I don’t discriminate,” he said. “A wish is a wish, and I must grant it. You must play the game, or die. These are my conditions.”

“What if Taylor and I both refuse? You only need to kill one of us, right? And you seem reasonable. You wouldn’t kill us to prove a point.”

“No.” The Tricker-Treater’s smile twisted into something darker, more feral. Moira wanted to scream, but panic kept her gaze fixed on his face. “In the case of two refusals, I take the wish-maker instead.”

Moira gulped. “You’d kill Riley.”

“Kill is such a boring word for what I do, but yes. Riley would become the sacrifice.” He steepled his fingers again. “But of course, you always have a choice.”

Did he think she’d let Riley die? She must have been Riley’s “someone he loves,” which meant the Tricker-Treater had to know she loved him too. She couldn’t damn him.

Only one thing to do.

“I’ll play,” Moira said.

“Wonderful. Let’s go.”

The Tricker-Treater snapped his fingers, Moira felt a tug, and the whole world went dark.

* * *

The reek of iron pulled Moira from unconsciousness. Her eyelids snapped open, pupils unfocused as they sought the light. Only a spare bulb hung overhead, struggling through the shadows. A familiar teenage form swam into view, fastened to a chair by ropes.

Taylor.

A shadow skulked off to Taylor’s left, and Moira’s gaze floated over to it. A long, lanky figure broke from the blackness and formed a solid shape. Sharp teeth glittered in the light as the creature grinned.

The Tricker-Treater.

He snapped his fingers again, and the lightbulb shattered. Moira went to shield her face from the exploding glass, but ropes restrained her. The Tricker-Treater had tied her down too.

A brilliant light enveloped the room, blinding Moira for a minute. The light faded to a ball that hovered over the Tricker-Treater’s head. It was small, but somehow bright enough for her to make out everything in the room, including Taylor.

She looked back at the boy. Blood dripped from ragged scratches in his cheek and stained the front of his shirt. That must have been the source of the iron smell—Taylor’s blood.

Moira looked to the Tricker-Treater for an explanation.

“He struggled,” he said, “so I had to be rough. But he’s learned his lesson. Haven’t you, Taylor?”

Taylor groaned and twisted against the ropes. The Tricker-Treater clicked his tongue and wagged a finger at Taylor. He froze.

“Think it’s time for me to explain the rules of the game to you both,” the Tricker-Treater said. “But no cheating. Is that understood?”

Moira still didn’t know what was going on, but she nodded nonetheless. Whatever game he had in mind, she had to win, for Riley’s sake.

She didn’t know what would happen to Taylor, except that he might die. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Across the room, Taylor grunted.

The Tricker-Treater gave a wet, hacking cough. Moira watched it rattle his prominent ribcage. Had he not been so frightening, she might have worried for him. As it was, she wished the cough had been worse.

The Tricker-Treater pulled another chair away from the table. It scraped across the floor with a sound that bit Moira’s eardrums. She flinched.

He lowered his long body into the chair and removed his hat, exposing his shiny, red baldness.

“I will now explain the rules, and I will not repeat myself. You both must pay attention if you want to win.”

“I don’t give a shit about winning,” said Taylor. “I don’t even want to play. I don’t give a shit about Riley.”

A muscle jerked in Moira’s jaw. What an asshole. Did this kid understand what he was saying?

“That’s not what you said to me earlier,” the Tricker-Treater said. “You agreed to play the game because you wanted him to live.”

Moira almost didn’t believe it, but the Tricker-Treater had no motive to lie.

The Tricker-Treater stretched a hand toward Taylor, and Taylor’s eyes widened. The Tricker-Treater’s razor claws glittered in the light.

“You’ll play,” he said, “or Riley dies.”

Taylor shut his eyes. “Okay, okay, but please don’t hurt me.”

“It isn’t me you should worry about.”

Moira swallowed a curse. As much as she hated to cooperate with this… thing, it seemed like they had no choice. If she didn’t play the Tricker-Treater’s game, Riley would die. She wouldn’t let that happen.

"What do I have to do?" she asked.

The Tricker-Treater's smile widened. Moira withheld a shiver. Taylor flattened himself against the back of the chair, trying to get as far away as possible.

"Once I untie you both," the Tricker-Treater said, putting his hat back on, "you'll have fifteen minutes to choose a weapon and determine the sacrifice."

Moira frowned. "Kill each other?"

"So vulgar," he replied.

"I don't want to kill an old lady," Taylor said.

Like he even could if he wanted to, Moira thought. In her own way, she agreed—she didn't want to kill him, and she didn't want to die.

Riley couldn't die, either. She'd do what she could, whatever she had to. It wasn't a choice.

"Where are the weapons?" Moira asked.

Taylor gaped at her. "We don't have to do this!"

“I detest idle chatter,” the Tricker-Treater said. “Such a waste of precious time.”

Moira stiffened at his words. Did that mean they’d started? Were they supposed to get going? Why was she still tied up, then? The Tricker-Treater had said—

A click of his fingers and her bindings dissolved. Fuck, she had to get moving. She liked the word fuck, although Norman never had, and the way his face used to scrunch up when she said it to him—

“Moira,” the Tricker-Treater warned. “You don’t have time for reminiscing.”

She chose not to dwell on the discomfort of having him inside her mind in favor of finding a weapon.

But where the fuck were they?

Taylor was squealing something she didn’t care to listen to because she didn’t care more than for any other reason. She didn’t want to kill him but they would soon be out of time, and if she didn’t do anything—whether he killed her or not—Riley was in danger.

Moira dragged herself out of the chair and looked around the room. It was still difficult to see, with the only lighting coming from the flames conjured by the Tricker-Treater, but they were surrounded by several different boxes of all shapes and sizes.

Taylor leaped up from his chair and dove headfirst into the box behind him, digging like a dumpster-diver in search of castoff treasures. Shit, she had to get a move on or he’d kill her with whatever he found.

Moira started with a box on her left, plain cardboard on the outside, unassuming enough. As she dug through a pile of moth-eaten clothes, the sharp edge of something bit the palm of her hand. She cried out. Upon further, much more hesitant, inspection, she discovered the source of the wound—a Japanese samurai sword.

That’s a katana, Norm corrected in her head.

Moira didn’t have time to smile. She wrapped her fingers around the base of the sword and pulled—

Right as Taylor came sprinting toward her with a hatchet in his hands. The metal glinted as he brought it down, right as Moria darted out of the way.

“Jesus, Taylor!”

“Stand still!”

He lifted the hatchet and swung it down again, with Moira only narrowly dodging it this time. She was close enough to hear the whoosh of the blade as it came down past her face. As she ducked to the side, so did Taylor. His third hit struck her shoulder. White-hot flames lit Moria’s muscle fibers and leaked pain down her arm. Warm blood dripped off her elbow.

Jesus fuck, that hurt.

Movement caught the corner of her eye and she whirled around, still clutching her injured shoulder. Taylor had raised the hatchet again. She had to get out of his way.

Still carrying the sword, Moira feinted left. Taylor took the bait and swung. She moved right, raised the sword, hesitated—

The light went out. Moira couldn’t see one inch in front of her face. Distantly, the Tricker-Treater’s claws clicked against a hard surface. Dragged against it, more like.

Moira shivered.

Mooooiiiiraaaaaaaaa…

She jabbed with the sword, wincing as the blade bounced off the wall. She was almost relieved that she hadn't hit Taylor.

Something rough brushed her calf. She jerked back, swallowing a cry. Something metal clattered to the ground, and Taylor yelped.

"Don't move, Taylor."

"Are w-we out of time?" As brave and seemingly bloodthirsty as he'd been moments before, there was no denying the way his voice shook. Hatchet or not, he was only a kid. He had his whole life ahead of him.

And she'd tried to kill him.

Moira let go of the katana. It, too, clattered to the floor. "What's up with turning the lights off, huh? Not fucked up enough as it is?"

"I assumed it would be easier for you to kill him with the lights off," the Tricker-Treater said. "That way, you wouldn't have to see him."

"Whose side are you on?" Taylor countered. His voice had an edge to it that scared her, sharpened by fear into pointed rage. It made him sound dangerous.

She didn't think he had the strength to kill her, but fear could drive someone to do the unthinkable.

And she'd let go of her weapon.

"I believe in leveling the playing field," the Tricker-Treater said. "Moira is, shall we say, more experienced in life, and Taylor has more energy. We correct this discrepancy with darkness."

Moira swallowed. In theory, everything he was saying made sense. But all she could think about was that there must be something she’d overlooked—something the Tricker-Treater had overlooked. In other words, a loophole.

Some way to save Riley without having to kill his brother.

She had to pick up the katana again. Without it, she was powerless. And, there was still a chance that Taylor would rediscover his bravado, would run toward her again with the hatchet raised, would bring it down and—

The Tricker-Treater chuckled in the gloom, and Moira knew he’d been inside her head again. Shit, that was… inconvenient, to say the least. How could she try to find a loophole if he was listening in on everything she thought?

Get the fuck out of my head, she thought.

Again, the Tricker-Treater chuckled. “Manners, Moira. But… I would be remiss not to heed your request, as vulgar as it might have been phrased. All you had to do was ask.”

Moira gaped at him in the darkness—or, at least, she gaped in what she assumed was his direction. It was still impossible to see anything, and though the Tricker-Treater had claimed he was just leveling the playing field, Moira couldn’t understand how this was supposed to help her.

Distantly, Taylor whimpered. Could he be afraid of the dark?

“Please,” he said. “Turn on the lights.”

The Tricker-Treater’s claws clicked together as he contemplated Taylor’s request. “Moira, what do you think?”

What did she think? She thought this whole twisted game was a goddamn mess. She thought it was ludicrous that this… demon expected her to kill a child, or the child to kill her. She thought she would do almost anything to save Riley because she loved him, but she wasn’t sure she could do this.

Most of all, Moira thought she had already lost. She had to change her mind somehow, or else she really would. Find the loophole, she reminded herself. There had to be an angle she hadn’t yet considered.

Moira shuffled her feet. The point of the katana bit into her shin and she fought the urge to cry out. Warm liquid seeped from the wound—not too much, but not too little to escape her notice. The darkness heightened everything. Tentatively, she bent over and fumbled around for the handle, praying her fingers wouldn’t graze the blade. At last, they closed around fabric—the binding on the handle—and she pulled it up with both hands as she rose to a standing position.

“Moira,” the Tricker-Treater prompted again. And… the idea came to her.

If she could kill the Tricker-Treater, she could end the game. She’d win, without killing Taylor, and Riley would be safe.

Of course, she knew next to nothing about the Tricker-Treater’s fortitude, although he seemed like a formidable foe. She had to give it a shot. Anything was better than plunging the blade into Taylor.

“Turn on the lights,” Moira answered.

She tightened her grip on the blade and widened her stance to give her more stability. Sweat trickled down the side of her neck. Her heart beat so loudly it threatened to deafen her, but she stayed grounded. She didn’t have a choice.

The Tricker-Treater snapped his fingers, and the lights flickered on again. Moira coordinated her attack with the fluorescent flash. She ran full speed, katana thrust forward like a jousting lance. Taylor gasped, eyes widening in horror—until Moira jabbed the sword into the Tricker-Treater’s gut.

“Shit!” Taylor yelled.

The Tricker-Treater didn’t flinch. He didn’t scream, nor did he give any other indication that he had been struck. Instead, he wrapped his clawed fingers around the blade and looked right at Moira. The twisted grin he produced was the worst thing she’d ever seen.

“Well, now. Isn’t this exciting?”

Moira trembled, but she didn’t let go of the handle. If she did, she was afraid he’d find a way to turn the blade on her. Taylor crept closer to the scene, face ashen. He was trembling, too, even as he reached out to take the sword from Moira.

She shook her head vehemently. “You’re not responsible for this. Taylor, if anything happens—”

“It isn’t polite to speak about others as though they aren’t there,” the Tricker-Treater chimed in. He was still holding onto the blade, still the picture of tranquility even as the sword stuck out of his stomach and black blood dripped from the wound onto the floor. “I wonder if you two have forgotten your manners.”

“Fuck you,” Taylor spat.

Moira had to agree, though she couldn’t find the words. All she could focus on was the blood, the way it poured from the Tricker-Treater’s stomach even though the wound was technically still sealed up, and—

The Tricker-Treater flexed his claws, and his grin widened. The blade slipped out of Moira’s hands.

“Taylor!” Moira shouted.

The blade shot backward out of the Tricker-Treater’s stomach and whirled around to point at Taylor. He reacted a second too late. Moira stared in horror as the black-bloodstained tip pushed into Taylor’s chest. He stiffened, limbs flying out, mouth open, eyes the size of galaxies—

And then, his body dropped. It made a sick thwack as it landed.

Moira turned her head and puked. When she turned back, the Tricker-Treater was hunched over, holding his hat in his hands. He had the decency not to grin.

“Oh, dear,” he said. “This is… less than ideal.”

If she weren’t so afraid, she would have smacked him. “‘Less than ideal’? A child is dead! You fucking killed him, you son of a bitch.”

“If I hadn’t, you would have.”

“I wouldn’t have,” she insisted. “You’ve been inside my head. You must have known I wouldn’t.”

“Hmph.” The Tricker-Treater twisted his hat in his hands. He was having trouble looking Moira in the eye. “Well, this does present a challenge.”

She wrangled the urge to strangle him. “What are you talking about?”

“The rules of the game were clear. To save Riley, there must be a sacrifice.” He paused, as though waiting for her to remember the rules. “One of you must kill the other.”

“But we can’t now. Taylor’s dead.” Realization dawned on Moira, eclipsing the fear. “You killed him. That’s the loophole.”

“So it would seem.” If he was upset about Moira’s admission of looking for a loophole, it didn’t show. If anything, he was so lost in contemplation he paid her no mind. She could have attacked him then. Taylor’s hatchet lay on the floor not far from his body. If she leaned forward a little—

But what would happen to Riley? If she killed the Tricker-Treater, would she forfeit the game? She couldn’t wager Riley’s life on a spur-of-the-moment choice.

Instead, she had to bide her time and see what the creature decided.

“Unfortunately,” he said. “Riley must perish.”

All the blood drained from Moira’s face. Like hell he must, she thought. “What are you talking about? I played your stupid game. Taylor… well, that means I won. Those were your rules, remember?”

“Alas, Moira, that isn’t the case.” The Tricker-Treater clicked his tongue. “Neither of you did as I asked, as was required of you, so there is no winner. And, as there’s no winner, Riley’s life is forfeit. I’m afraid those are the rules.”

Moira’s stomach roiled. There had to be another way. She had to save Riley somehow, otherwise, Taylor had died for nothing. She refused to lose Riley, refused to let his mother bury both her sons.

“Take me instead,” she pleaded.

The Tricker-Treater hesitated. “That wasn’t part of the deal. Your life is only forfeit should the other participant take it. As the other participant is dead, there is no reason for your life to end.”

His logic and politeness made her want to tear her hair out. “Taylor shouldn’t have died. I didn’t kill him. Doesn’t that change up your shitty rules somehow?”

Again, he hesitated. His face twisted up as though he were in pain. “I concede that Taylor’s departure was unnecessary, given the game’s objective. Reckless, even. However… there must be some punishment for you.” The Tricker-Treater looked pointedly at the hole in his gut. “You also broke the rules.”

“You never said I couldn’t attack you,” she argued.

His mouth twitched. “Fair enough. Hm… let’s do this. What do you think I should do to you, Moira? What sort of fate would be equitable?”

Moira’s tongue sat like lead in her mouth. How was she supposed to make such a strange decision? The question wasn’t one she’d planned for. He wasn’t in her head anymore, so she wondered if she could just throw something out there, something far from “fair,” in terms of extremity. Or, perhaps he already knew what he would do to her, and he was just playing another sick game?

“Tick-tock,” said the Tricker-Treater.

Moira swallowed. Hard. If Norm were here, he’d have the perfect idea. He was always so wise, her Norm, even when he was being silly. The last time they’d watched Groundhog Day together, he’d said—

Groundhog Day. Yes, that was the answer. It was the only way for her to atone, while still paying homage to her husband. And, it was the only way to make sure Riley’s mother got her son back—and got to keep Riley, too.

It wasn’t a fate Moira looked forward to, but it was a fate she accepted.

She gave the Tricker-Treater a watery smile. “Have you seen any Bill Murray movies?”

* * *

When Moira came to, she was covered in sweat. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, and birds chirped outside. Jesus. She felt like she’d been run over by a train.

Out of habit, even after a year, she rolled over to look at Norm’s side of the bed. She smoothed a hand over the blankets and sighed. “Miss you more than ever, hon.”

Outside, the distant hum of a mower pierced the air. She must have slept in much later than usual. A glance at the clock on her nightstand confirmed her suspicions, and she groaned. That would teach her to go through a whole bottle of wine by herself.

A weird pain flared in Moira’s shoulder. When she reached for it, the feeling vanished. She checked under her shirt. Nothing.

Must just be part of getting old, she thought.

It seemed like it was going to be a nice day, what with the birds chirping and sunlight and all. Maybe she’d crawl out of bed and do something fun for a change, bake some cookies to give to the neighbor kid, Riley. Maybe he’d share with his overworked mother. The poor dear was working more than she was home, and Moira knew she was exhausted.

An hour later saw Moira dressed and pulling fresh cookies from the oven, the smell filling the house like a bug bomb—albeit a delicious one. While she waited for the cookies to cool, she slipped on her shoes and went outside to fetch the paper.

Moira kicked spilled candy corn off her front step. The remnants of another weeknight massacre. This time, all in the name of a holiday.

She’d stopped keeping track of the holidays.

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