#xanders haunting art

[brentiix]

@rianneimations on a bgudet ⭐️

[fatedroses]

Tall and brooding.

[anythinggoesbutme]

Hawthorne “Hauntings”

Hawthorne Brothers (Xanders POV) + Lyra Kane

Warnings: implied sexual content, and some sibling teasing with moments of embarrassment and awkwardness.

Synopsis: Xander uses the secret passages in Hawthorne House to prank his brothers—until one prank on Grayson goes hilariously wrong.

Song: “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” — Elton John & Kiki Dee

Word Count: 1,024

Xander had always known Hawthorne House was alive. Not in the sense of a ghost with rattling chains, but alive in its own secretive, creaking way—hollow panels, hidden doors, centuries-old passages that spiderwebbed behind the walls. To Xander, it was the best kind of playground, the kind only he seemed to appreciate fully.

It started when Xander was ten, all scrawny elbows and endless curiosity, half-hiding behind a tapestry in Nash’s room.

He’d found the secret passage by accident—an old panel in the wall that creaked open like an invitation. The house was ancient and creaky in places, but it was Hawthorne ancient—meaning every squeaky floorboard probably had a secret.

Nash was seventeen then, already stretching into manhood, his voice dropping lower, his eyes tired from too much responsibility.

He’d been the “responsible one,” the one who took Xander under his wing and taught him how to spin a story so people forgot to look too closely.

The first time Xander used the passage, Nash was bent over his homework, his back turned. Xander crept in behind him, silent as a ghost, and poked him in the ribs. Nash yelped and nearly flipped his desk over. Xander fell out of the panel, howling with laughter.

Nash glared at him, but it was the kind of glare that was half-grin, half-sigh. “Don’t make me put a lock on that door,” he’d threatened.

Xander had done it again and again over the next few years—always when Nash looked like he needed a reminder not to take himself so seriously. And Nash had always sighed, then laughed.

Until Alisa.

Xander was thirteen the night Nash sat him down, serious eyes and folded hands like he was about to deliver a verdict. “Xander,” he’d said, “Alisa’s over a lot more these days. Could you—maybe—give us a little privacy? Just…ease up on the jumpscares, okay?”

Xander had felt something deflate in his chest, like a balloon let go too soon. Nash was asking him not to be him—at least, not in the one place that had always felt like a playground.

But Nash had always looked out for him. So Xander had promised.

He’d kept his promise—at least to Nash.

Jameson, though—Jameson was a different story.

Between the ages of thirteen and seventeen, Xander had perfected the art of the Hawthorne House Haunt. Jameson’s room had three secret entrances (Xander had found them all).

Every so often, he’d emerge from behind a panel—like some kind of mischievous poltergeist—and watch Jameson leap three feet in the air.

Jameson was fun. He’d swear like a sailor, throw a pillow at Xander. They’d end up in wrestling matches, giggling fits, or chasing each other through the halls until Nash bellowed at them to “act like human beings.”

Then Jameson would challenge him to a ridiculous bet: “Bet you can’t make it past Grayson’s room without him catching you.”

And sometimes Xander did try that. Grayson was the trickiest of them all.

By the time Xander was eighteen and Grayson was twenty-one, the dynamic had shifted. Nash had moved out, newly married to Libby and living in his own place, and Jameson had started spending nights in Avery’s room—often enough that Xander knew he’d have to retire that particular haunt.

But Grayson—Grayson still lived at home, even if he’d grown more serious, his face drawn tight with the weight of expectations. He’d started dating Lyra Kane, the girl with the wicked smile and the sharp wit who sometimes made even Grayson laugh until he forgot to breathe.

Xander didn’t know what possessed him that night. Boredom? Habit? A final farewell to his pranking days before college swallowed him whole?

He’d slipped into the panel just after dinner. Grayson’s door was ajar—an invitation, or maybe just carelessness. Xander grinned to himself, the old thrill bubbling in his chest.

The passage opened behind a bookshelf. He slipped through, careful to avoid the squeaky board, and peered through the crack. Grayson’s lamp cast a low glow over the room—and over Grayson, his hair mussed, his shirt half-open, his mouth on Lyra’s shoulder.

Xander’s grin faltered. Oh. Oh no.

He knew he should back out, but he was frozen.

Grayson’s voice—low and hoarse—murmured something that made Lyra laugh. She was flushed, hair tangled around her face, and her hands were on Grayson’s chest. And—yep—definitely sex.

Xander’s heart nearly leapt out of his throat. He must have made a noise—because Grayson’s head snapped up.

“Xander!” Grayson bellowed.

Xander stumbled backward, hands flailing. “Oh my god! Sorry! Sorry—”

Lyra burst into laughter, clutching the sheets to her chest. “Oh my god, you should see his face—”

Grayson’s glare could have stripped paint from the walls. “Get. Out.”

He’d stumbled back to his room, heart still hammering like he’d run a marathon. His face felt like it was on fire. He’d heard Grayson’s voice—low, harsh, angrier than he’d ever heard it—followed by Lyra’s laugh, light and unstoppable and way too amused for what had just happened.

He collapsed onto his bed, pressing his palms to his face. “Oh god. Oh god.” He’d never live this down.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Grayson’s glare, Lyra’s grin, the tangle of limbs, the—he made himself stop thinking about it.

He’d ruined everything.

Not the trust (Grayson would forgive him eventually; he always did). But his trust. The secret passages had always felt like his—like his playground, his way to poke at the people he loved, to remind them not to take themselves too seriously.

Now, though? He couldn’t unsee it—Grayson’s wide-eyed horror, Lyra’s laughter that had started to fade into concern as Grayson tried to calm down.

Xander squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never sneak into Grayson’s room again—that was for sure.

And maybe—just maybe—he’d learned something about boundaries.

But even now, he couldn’t help but smile a little, because the look on Grayson’s face? That had been priceless.

So, with a sigh that was half regret, half reluctant grin, Xander made himself a promise: He’d give Grayson a break. Maybe. For now.

But Jameson? Well, he was still just down the hall—and Xander’s grin widened. There was always tomorrow.

[no1bookgirl]

Wild Goose Turkey Chase

Synopsis: Every year, since Tobais Hawthorne discovered Nash’s fondness for turkeys, Hawthorne House has set up a pen full of turkeys somewhere outside of Hawthorne House. In 2024, 27 years after the first turkey pen had been set up, a certain Hawthorne *cough* Xander *cough* forgot to lock the pen correctly. The turkeys put their brains together and hobbled out of the pen, now having free reign of Hawthorne House, tormenting its occupants with a haunting gobble.

POV: 2nd from you as Grayson’s gf!!

Pairings: Grayson x Reader, Avery x Jameson, Libby x Nash, and Xander x Max!

wc: 9.8k

a/n: Thanksgiving fic!! one of my first actual character x reader things. I was going to do a halloween themed one cause halloween would be crazy at hawthorne house, but thanksgiving was much more festive! (this might also be a day or two after thanksgiving 🙄🙄) Warning!! one y/n usage that I really tried to avoid… I hate having to write y/n it’s so icky to me ☹️ MINOR GAMES UNTOLD SPOILERS!!!

Now, I present: Wild Goose Turkey Chase

Wednesday, November 20th, 2024

When you are the girlfriend of Grayson Hawthorne, former heir apparent of philanthropist Tobias Hawthorne, you were bound to have that big, fancy Thanksgiving that you felt you could never get used to. You were also bound to getting caught in the antics of his brothers. And their girlfriends.

Yeah, Hawthorne Thanksgiving was good, lavish, luxury, chaotic especially, but you couldn’t help but remember your fondness for your grandmother’s mashed potatoes. Or your mom’s turkey. Those quiet, comfortable, small Thanksgivings. The ones where you’d actually have time to go around the table and share something you’re grateful for.

Trying to take your mind off of your need for your grandma, for your mom, just for your family again, you walk down the art gallery, staring at the walls of endless works. Your eyes fall upon one exhibit, a large amount of turkey-hand paintings ordered by year. There were four rows of them, each containing around eight paintings. The top row was Nash’s, the hand feathers becoming more defined as the years grew on. It was cute to think of the Hawthorne brothers squishing their hands in paint, pressing it against paper, and decorating it was silly items like top hats and monocles, a cowboy hat and a lasso, or sun glasses and a glass of wine.

You’d done the same project when you were a child, running home from the bus stop, paper fluttering in the wind, slamming the door open and proudly displaying your artwork on the fridge. Gentle hands would rub your back, cheek kisses were also common, soft words would encourage your art.

Before actually meeting the brothers, you never would’ve been able to imagine them doing that from what you had seen. It would feel too forced, like they just didn’t fit into that picture of childishness. But maybe that was one of their plans all along, Grayson’s plan. He needed to be that mature business man, always trying to keep himself steady, others steady too, including you until you saw through that facade, breaking him open to see who he really could be.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Grayson’s voice came from behind you, the now audible clicking of his shoes becoming louder.

“Yeah,” you laughed. Turning around, you found one of those rare Grayson smiles plastered on his face, warming her heart. Maybe it was the holiday spirit, or maybe the fun memories of the turkey hands.

He looked down, like he was nervous, but you could still see the hint of the smile. “It’s you,” he said as if reading your mind, “that’s making me smile like this. Even after being together for three years, it’s still so foreign.”

“Well, I’ve gotten used to your smile.” You took a few steps closer to him, closing the gap as you wrapped your arms around him. “Gray?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to know something I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving season?” you asked innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

He cocked his head. “Friends?”

“Close…”

“Family?”

“Closer…”

He chewed on his lip, in actual thought. “I give up,” he said, mock defeat in his voice.

“This Thanksgiving season, I’m grateful for…” you paused for dramatic effect, your mouth staying in a wide open-mouthed smile. “You.”

Grayson’s brows shot up, even though you had told him this millions of times before. “Really?” he asked, his arms finally wrapping loosely around your torso.

“Forever,” you sing, rocking you and Grayson back and forth, “and ever and ever and ever.”

The two of you sit there for a moment, taking in each other in the silence, wrapped up all nice and cozy compared to the outdoors. But everything with Grayson was warm. Swimming was warm because of summer. Grayson was warm because he was your sun, the thing that brought that smile to your face, the sun that faded down into a calmer, more comforting figure as the day dragged on. Grayson was the warm person you would wake up to in the morning, pressing yourself against his chest or his hair or wherever you happen to be.

Grayson leaned down into your ear, his breath warm, heating you up even more. “They’re setting the turkey pen up soon,” he commented. “Do you think it would be fun to watch?”

“Grayson,” you cock your head at him, “we do this every year: You come up to me, butter me up and all that jazz, then ask if I want to watch them build the pen, which we end up doing no matter what I say.”

He chuckled at you, at all the other turkey pen watching times you’d been together. Reaching around his back, he grabbed on of your hands, giving it a gentle kiss. “Shall we?”

You gave one of those small, flustered smiles even if he had done this so many times before. “Why, yes, prince charming.”

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The pen was always a grand thing, more than enough room for the turkeys. There were about seven or eight turkeys in there, not at all knowing they would get slaughtered in only a matter of days at the hands of the greedy, and hungry, Xan- Hawthornes.

“I feel bad for them,” you said, letting your head rest against Grayson’s shoulder as a frown deepened on your face.

Grayson’s head cocked gently. “Why is that?”

“Because they don’t know they’re going to be eaten,” you began, even more empathy creeping in now that you actually expressed your sadness. “They just think they’re getting out in a new fancy home.”

“Well, all things have to come to an end at some point, and sometimes that end might not be when you’d expect or want,” said Grayson, his voice soft and steady, keeping you down.

You nodded absentmindedly, continuing to stare at the helpless turkeys. “I guess you’re right. But when are you not?” you murmured, hopeful that he didn’t hear the last part. But by the small smirk that he somehow couldn’t suppress, you could tell he did hear it.

“Who’s all coming for Thanksgiving this year? It’s approaching faster than I’d like.”

“There’s a few new people coming this year,” Grayson said, a half sigh in his voice. “I know Gigi and Katrina will be joining us this year.”

Your heart dropped at the mention of that cat. Lord did it scare you. Not that you were scared of cats, but the way the leopard sized cat would stare at you from Gigi’s arms, it’s pupils shrinking as it looked like it was planning you to be her next meal. Grayson always made sure to keep a safe distance between you and Katrina whenever Gigi decided it was her turn to barge into your room. Whether it be holding Katrina or letting her sleep on him, he’d separate you two.

“That damn cat,” you breathed out.

“Knox may also be here this year, maybe not. Lyra’s having Thanksgiving with her family. All the rest of the normal people will be there: Avery, obviously, Jameson, Libby, Nash, then on,” he said.

You blew out a long breath, wishing you could see it in the air. If it wasn’t cold enough to see your breath, it wasn’t Thanksgiving yet. And Texas had a long way to go. 70° F was no where near what homes temperature would be around this time of month. Now, coats would start to be pulled out of the basement. A sweatshirt wouldn’t be enough to keep you warm. Hats wouldn’t be out for a while. It always seemed that something, just one thing, was just off enough for this place to not feel like home.

Even if you came here almost every break you got in school since you met Grayson three years ago, it still never felt right. Too hot. Too stuffy. Too many people. They didn’t know what you meant when you called certain things differently. You’re offered sweet tea instead of lemonade on those hot summer days. It was never enough. And you felt bad. Grayson always tried to make you feel at home here, safe, secure. You tried to make yourself seem happy, but Grayson could see right through it.

A whirring sound came from somewhere around the corner. Grayson’s arm instinctively went to wrap around you, holding you closer to him. A… figure emerged from the corner. It was Tiramisu… in a child sized Jeep?

Without having to see who it was, Grayson called out, “Xander.” It was silent before Xander popped out from behind you and Grayson, his arm tightening even more around you. You yelped, clinging on to Grayson.

“Greetings, fellow residents.” Xander gave them no time before he started to ask questions. “How has your day been? How do you like Tiramisu’s Jeep? How about the turkeys? Are they interesting this year? Should I dye them purple-“

“Alexander,” Grayson commanded, stopping Xander in his tracks. You’d almost never seen Xander stop talking this quickly, but he was silent. “There is no need to dye the turkeys, or anything for that matter, purple.”

Xander’s lip puffed out in a pout. “But that’s the best part,” he whined, knowing full well that he would do it anyway. And temporarily dye Grayson’s hair to get back at him.

Contorting your face, you look to Xander. “I don’t think purple is very festive…”

Xander looked up, taking that into consideration, and nodded. Tiramisu panted from beneath you, wiggling against whatever was keeping him in the toy car. Xander bent down to pet him, earning wet dog kisses to his hand.

“We better get going,” he said, “Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne, you’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Your brows furrowed. “You training him for the Macy’s day parade or something?”

“Similar to that. Hawthorne style,” he said with a grin that greatly reflected Jameson.

“Do not suspend him from a helicopter like you did with our last dog? That did not end well for Wilhelmina,” Grayson scolded.

What happened to Wilhelmina?

Xander huffed out a long sigh, groaning and whining like a little kid. “You always ruin my plans, little Graybe-“

“Don’t even try that with me, Alexander.” The full name again. What was up with him today?

Xander turned around, pulling out a remote control to have Tiramisu slowly follow him as he sulked away. But Tiramisu’s smiley little dog face was the opposite of Xander’s, tongue out and panting.

“Xander?” you called. He slowly, dramatically, turned around to face you again. “Who’s feeding the turkeys?”

“We’re going in an order. I’m first, then Jamie, Grayson, Nash, Avery, Libby, and last Oren,” he mumbled, still keeping his sad face on.

He turned back around, pulling out a remote control to push Tiramisu around as he wobbled away. Beside Xander, Tiramisu was the opposite, his face all smiley, tongue out, tail wagging, and panting.

When they were far enough away, you looked up at Grayson, your best attempt at a mad face directed at him.

He noticed your expression, arching a brow—those weirdly perfect brows. No, it was actually weird—and cocking his head. “What’s that face for?”

“That was really mean, Grayson. I think you should apologize,” you declared.

Grayson gave you a look, one that you knew meant that you both mutual understood something, but you were deciding to act like you didn’t. “He’s going to be okay. I know he’s going to be okay. And the look he gave me just means he’s going to do that, but ten times worse.”

“But you called him his full name. Twice!” You’d almost never heard Xander be called by his full name. Not even by Nash. It genuinely took you a second to realize that Alexander wasn’t an inside joke between Xander and Grayson.

“Trust me, he’ll be okay,” he said, finally, squeezing your arm and giving you a kiss on the top of the head. “Now, how about we go back to our gallery walk?”

The smile reappeared on your face and the two of you turned around, making your way back into Hawthorne House.

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Thursday, November 21st, 2024

Somehow, on this fine evening, every just so happened to be eating lunch at the same time, small talk filling the table as they passed plates around, piling food on top of other food that you knew were not goin for taste good once all mixed together. But for some strange reason, Avery and Jameson made it a competition to see who could stack their plate higher without a single thing falling. They were both well off their plates, at least six inches of food each. You and Grayson shared the same disgusted look. Yeah, your family wasn’t as fancy as all these people, but at least you had manners.

Suddenly, with dramatic effect, Xander burst into the room, a panicked look that you had never seen before on his face. The bang made Avery jump, knocking over everything on your plate, mingling with all the other food. Her hand flew over her mouth at the mess. Not only did it topple over and mix everything, it splattered everything everywhere, on everyone, and Tiramisu was more than happy to clean up the floor.

“Xander!” Avery screeched. Her face softened when she saw Xander’s. “Xander..?

“They. Are. Gone.” He punctuated each word with a force you’d expect out of Grayson.

Nash swiftly stood up, getting into his ready stance. “Who is gone, Xan?”

“The turkeys. When I went to go check and see if they ate all their breakfast, there was only one left. I didn’t close that pen right, they’re all gone,” his tone was frantic, more than you had ever heard from him before.

Grayson followed Nash but his stance was much more protective, aware. “That just means that they are on the premises, not exactly inside of Hawthorne House.”

Xander shook his head violently. “They are inside. The seven that got out. And they are out for revenge,” he panted. You finally made the connection that he was probably running from them.

Oren started to talk to someone on his radio, giving them instructions on what measures to take next. Xander sat down at the table, swiping his finger through Avery’s fallen mix of ham, cheese, mayo, grapes, and some garlic sauce. Xanders face twisted, then loosened, and continued that pattern. Grayson had migrated over to Oren, trying to go through everything they had to do.

The rest of the lunch was silent, doors locked, waiting for the anticipation of the turkeys.

“So everyone-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

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It wasn’t long before one of the turkeys tried to claim its first victim.

Can turkeys fly?

Yes, turkeys can fly, but only short distances.

Speed

Wild turkeys can fly at speeds of up to 55 miles per hour.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. Help me.

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You were aimlessly roaming Hawthorne House, trying to find something to distract yourself with. Thundering footsteps came from down the hall, screaming accompanying the steps. It was a familiar shriek. Avery. And then you heard it, what she was running from. The gobbles echoed through the endless halls, not allowing you to know where it was coming from.

You looked around for any kind of escape, anything high enough that you could still climb on. You time spent with the Hawthornes and built you an expertise in climbing, even when there was almost nothing to climb. There was the tiniest ledge, just enough to fit your foot, so, you began your climb. Arm moving up and over, feet bracing against the wall.

On top of the ledge, your legs shook, almost taking you down to the ground. Avery’s footsteps grew louder as they approached you, the flapping of wings following. She shrieked again, the slapping of her shoes against the ground growing closer together, her legs moving faster.

“What the fuck!” she screamed, her arms pumping as she rounded a corner, coming in to view.

Suddenly, she ran into something. She faced the turkey, its speed slowing. They were at a standstill. Avery versus the turkey. Avery stood proud, trying to cover her obviously shaking hands and legs, her breathing ragged. She licked her lips, staring down the turkey. Taking her eyes off for only a second, she looked up at you, pleading in her gaze.

“Are you just gonna sit there and stare? Help me!” she called out, disturbing the turkey. It gave an aggressive gobble, taking a step toward Avery and flapping it’s wings. She moved backwards, slightly stumbling.

Under you, the wall shook, knocking you off balance. You almost fell, but narrowly caught the ledge with your shaking fingers, her hands almost too sweaty to hold you up. Without any warning, a loud crack came from under you. Avery instinctively ducked down, her arms covering her head. The turkey fell over, it’s body still on the floor, a small hole behind where the turkey had just stood.

It felt like your legs moved without any signals from your brain, nothing was telling you to move but you were.

“Avery!” you said, rushing over to her. You knelt beside her, your hand rubbing up and down her back. “It’s okay, shh, you’re okay,” your voice was gentle. Her body shook as she pulled herself up, wrapping her arms around you.

Footsteps echoed from behind the two of you, and you turned to find Jameson holding one of the Winchester rifles. How fitting. Then, you connected the dots. Secret passage way.

“Avery,” Jameson breathed out, falling down beside you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I scared you.” Similar to Xander earlier that day, he looked more panicked than ever, scooping Avery out of your arms.

“I’m fine,” she said shakily, her breathing still uneven.

“Fine and okay aren’t the same thing, Heiress,” Jameson said, a small, soft, trying-to-be-comforting smile on his face.

Avery took one more deep breath before sitting up, untangling herself from Jameson. “I’m okay. I promise.”

The two sat for a moment, just staring at each other.

“We should probably clean that up,” you commented, loosely referring to the dead turkey a few feet away.

“Yeah,” they sighed together.

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After Oren had come and cleaned the turkey up, you traveled back to you and Grayson’s room, flopping down on the bed next to Grayson and his laptop. You gave a dramatic sigh, finally able to breathe fully.

“What’s that for?” Grayson asked, starting at her collarbone and tracing a finger down your arm into your hand.

“One turkey down,” you began, “six to go.”

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Friday, November 22nd, 2024

Some nights, when even you couldn’t get Grayson to fall asleep, you two resorted to the few other people Grayson felt——not necessarily safe sleeping in a room with——comfortable to sleep in a room with if you were their too. Grayson’s eyes drooped, and you felt so bad. He hadn’t slept much before you had arrived back at Hawthorne House from Harvard, the place where he had betrayed you and left. He didn’t really betray you, just had his own shit to deal with. But, still, it hurt. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever, shadowing his pale face. You also came to the realization that his heightened irritability—Xander’s first name, the purple turkeys—was due to Grayson’s lack of sleep. Poor thing.

You wrapped one of the millions of blankets Xander had in his pile that he called a bed around Grayson, tucking him in snuggly.

“Good night,” you whispered against his ear, giving his cheek a soft kiss.

Xander was also somewhere in the pile, probably cuddled up with Max or some of his stuffed animals.

“Good night to you too, Xan,” you whisper called, a waving hand appearing somewhere underneath the blankets.

Xander had a strange habit of forgetting to close doors. Anywhere he went. Any time. But he especially did when he went to bed. You always assumed he didn’t have much of a night time routine. Well, until Max came around and forced him into a nightly skincare routine. Or maybe Xander just liked to have that small nightlight, just a little childlike comfort.

Lying behind Grayson, your legs wrapped around his waist, your arm draping over him side under his arm. You tried to sleep, you really did, but with the events from today, you couldn’t help your open eyes. Grayson’s hair twirled around your finger, his light snoring, Xanders not-so light snoring, Max wiggling around in her sleep. Everyone in the house was peaceful, but you just couldn’t focus. And when you tried to sleep, you only thought about not sleeping, keeping you awake even longer.

So quiet. So eerily quiet. Nothing like what you were used to sleeping through in Cambridge. Or, at least, your first year when you were required to live on campus. Since then, and kind of to apologize for leaving, Grayson got you a nice house not too far from campus. It was nice and cozy—2 bed, 3 bath, nice finished basement equipped with a bar!—just what you were looking for. It kind of reminded you of the heaps of blankets you were in right now.

One game you enjoyed playing in Xander’s room was Dig In His Weird Blanket Pile And See What You Find! It was kind of like a blind bag: you never know what you’re going to pull out.

You dug your hand in, feeling around until you found something. It was cold, despite the warmth of the blankets, circular, felt like glass. You wretched our hand out of the pile, holding up a small, glass ball. A Fushigi ball? Hawthornes and their weird talents. You put that one back down, digging around for something else. Your fingers caught in something else, pulling out a crochet hook, a single piece of yarn connecting it to a half finished crochet dog that vaguely resembles Tiramisu.

You continued to dig around, finding new random things, some you didn’t even know existed. When your hand was touching the bottom of this pit, the room got lighter, and lighter. The door was creaking open. But Nash wouldn’t be up, he probably would’ve woken Libby up. And why would Jameson or Avery be coming in here at this hour? That left only one thing.

The fucking turkeys.

You froze, your arm still in the sea of blankets, unable to move. Beside you, Grayson shifted, rubbing his head around, his brows furrowing when we couldn’t find your hand.

“Mm,” he whined, his arm reaching to feel around. Your free arm roughly grasped his wrist, stirring him more. “What are you doing…” he trailed off when he saw the panic on your face, the utter fear. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He sat up fully, grabbing your hands. You looked back up at the ledge of the pit until he followed your gaze. He must have noticed the weird amount of light streaming into the room.

Then the gobble came. And another. Were there multiple? Here? Right now?

Like some sort of sleeper agent—literally—Max launched up from where she was sleeping, bringing Xander’s arm with her. Xander stirred too, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

“What the fuck was that?” Max whispered, her eyes locked forward as if she wasn’t able to move, that if she did some monster—the turkeys—would come out and attack her.

There was a figure peering over the ledge now, casting a shadow on Max. It’s sickly long neck, that stupid beak, the feathers down the rest of the body. You were only just realizing how terribly inaccurate your hand-turkey drawings had been. It gobbled again, flapping its wings, and jumped down. Max screamed, scrambling out of the pit. You followed, confused and disoriented, the lack of sleep catching up to you. Grayson rushed up after you, his arms going around you.

Xander continued to look around confused. And then he began to, very slowly, climb onto the ledge, wobbling across his room to somewhere by a desk of some sort. “Don’t freak out, you guys. I have something for this.”

Of course he did.

He adjusted the screws or bolts of mechanical things you didn’t understand, paying very close attention to the turkey’s position. He pulled a small lever back, and then let go. It was another one of his weird machines, the ones that take too many steps. The thing ran almost all the way around his room: on the walls, the book ridden ceiling, the floor, even. Only seconds after that lever was released, a ball, in your mind a canon ball, launched from a corner not too far from you, hitting the turkey square in the head.

That drew a gasp from you, Max, and Grayson, all still standing huddled in a corner.

“There,” Xander said, grogginess roughening his voice, “are you better now?”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

You and Grayson laid on the floor of Nash and Libby’s room, Max curled up next to you. The door was locked securely, making sure to pose no danger to the sleeping people inside.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Saturday, November 23rd, 2024

When your eyes finally opened, they met Nash’s, Grayson standing beside him.

“Mornin’,” he said, patting your shoulder. The surface under you was comfortable, squishy, compared to the floor you, Grayson, and Max had chosen to sleep on last night.

When you finally collected your mind, you focused on where you were, what you knew about the turkeys now. I’m in Libby and Nash’s bed, I think, and two turkeys have been taken down. That leaves only five more, that could be done in a day, right?

“Are you feeling any better?” Grayson asked, his voice soft and quiet.

You completely ignored the question. “Where is Xander?”

A small smile pulled at Grayson’s lips, warming your heart. Your face also heated up thinking about the fact you most likely looked like you crawled out of a dumpster five seconds ago.

“Xan slept in his own room. He’s okay, too,” Grayson assured, running a hand through your hair, getting caught in the knots near the bottom.

“Mm,” you hummed in recognition. You stuffed your face back into one of the pillows, trying to drift off again. Grayson’s hand ran down your back, stopping just above your hips and tracing back up.

It was nice, having him there with you, something to keep you steady in the midst of all these turkey troubles. Your mind drifted off, dreaming of pool what and hot summer days, cameras and candid polaroid pictures, Grayson’s violin and your piano matching in just the right places.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

The next time you woke up, the room was more familiar the things you had dreamed of: playful strings of photos on the wall, his violins hanging with them. It was nice to have that feeling of home in at least one place here.

It was so quiet. Quieter than you had ever heard it. Even in the dead of night you could here Jameson and Avery scurrying around, Grayson taking a swim, Xander working up late on his next project, the steady strum of Nash’s guitar, used to put the babies to bed. Everyone had probably locked themself up in their room, including you. But then where was Grayson?

Deciding it was time for your next quest, you got up, wobbling over to the closet, and then the bathroom, finally getting ready for the day. You didn’t feel like doing much today; just a simple sweater, jeans, and a pair of fluffy socks you pulled out of some looks of clothes you were hiding from Grayson.

After leaving the bathroom, you opened the door to the balcony, the cold air washing over your body. You peered over the railing, the pool water still leaving no sign that Grayson had been there. Strange. Guess the next stop was the music room.

The hallways were especially empty today. Not even a cleaner or security walking around. That’s why the hallways were so quiet. It was eerie walking through the halls, the ceiling too tall now, the walls too close, the hall too long, a shiver creeping up your spine. Your steps quicken, trying to looking for any signs of Grayson. But it was like he just disappeared, gone.

Standing outside of the empty music room, you felt weak, tired too, your lack of sleep finally catching up to you. Then, your ears caught the beginning of a note, followed by another, and another, each played flawlessly, tuned perfectly. Maybe the music room wasn’t so empty. But piano wasn’t exactly Grayson’s forte. Your head peeked in, catching a glimpse of a figure at one of the pianos. A cane leaned up against the bench gave away who it could be. The sound of your steps light, you entered the room, trying not to disturb Nan as she listened to the piano.

“I know you’re there,” she said, her voice as gruff as usual. “You ain’t sneaky.”

Now caught, with no escape, you walk over to the piano, standing on the other end of the bench.

“Sorry to disturb you,” you said. Nan looked over to you, and you were just now realizing where Nash had gotten his many faces from. “Mind if I sit here? I won’t make a peep,” you promised.

“Fine,” she huffed.

You took a seat beside her, gentle to not knock over her cane of the other side. Sitting silently, you watched as the piano keys pressed themselves down, the music following with them.

“You play?” she asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

You nodded slowly. “Sorta. I’m rusty though,” you admitted. You placed your hands gently on the piano keys, thinking up a song to play. Her fingers pressed down the key, moving in a familiar rhythm. The occasional press of the wrong key would stop you, making the song choppy. But you couldn’t help to think that those mistakes, the things that might slow you down, just added character.

Nan swayed to the music beside you, matching the rhythm. She seemed to recognize the song, know how to play it, pressing down a key or two on her side when it might have seemed too far from you. It was nice to have this moment. Most of the time, and what had been described of her, Nan wasn’t gentle, she was gruff, she was snorted laughs, she was bored huffs. Or maybe, just maybe, Nan was just Nan.

“You’re good,” her voice seemed softer now, calm “Y’know that, right?”

You nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her finger rested against one of the lower octave note, playing a simple pattern, switching between notes. Her head turned the slightest bit toward you, you could feel it.

“C’mere more often. I can get you to learn some of my favorite songs,” she said. A smile grew on your face, returned with a not so happy look. “Don’t make that face. You’re starting to look like Xander.”

Pad-pad-pad

The hell?

Pad-pad-pad

You leaned over, trying to see on Nan’s side, find where the padding feet were coming from. Riding up next to the two of you, an animal came in, bobbing its head as it walked. The turkey.

“How are you in here?” Nan said at the turkey, and the way she said it made it seem like she actually expected an answer from it.

Gobble

She stared at the turkey, like the stare-down Avery had had with the first turkey. Her hand reached over for the precariously balanced cane.

Poke

“Get.”

Blank stare.

Poke

“Get.”

Blank stare.

“You’re really going to make me up, aren’t you, bastard,” she huffed, standing up and using the piano as leverage.

Her cane swung aimlessly in the air, only hitting the turkey a few times. “Scram!” she shouted at it, watching as it scurried away in her presence.

Bonk

The turkey slammed right into the wall.

Thud

Another loud sound as the turkey hit the ground.

Similar to Nan, you just stared at it, motionless.

“One more turkey down,” you grumbled.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Sunday, November 24th, 2024

Waddling into the kitchen, you jumped up to sit on the counter beside Libby’s chocolate cupcakes.

“Libbbyyy,” you said.

“Yeeeeesss,” she dragged as she carefully frosted a cupcake.

You put on your best puppy eyes, looking at her like a little kid. “Can you make me something for lunch?”

“You’re twenty-two,” someone drawled from behind you. “You don’t need Lib to make you lunch.”

You flicked your hand at Nash, not even turning around to look at him. “Shoo.”

“Excuse me?” Nash said, his voice now right behind you.

Nash walked around the counter, a baby balancing on his hip, taking a ball of cookie dough off of a baking sheet nearby and popping it in his mouth. “I think,” he said around the cookie dough, “you should make your own lunch and let Lib breathe.”

“Thank you, Nash, but I think I can take care of myself.”

The baby was placed on the counter next to you, looking up and smiling at you.

“Hi, there, baby,” you squealed, picking her up and placing her on your lap, moving her arms around to fake punch or lifting them up and down, making her dance. She giggles and squeals, looking around, until her face dropped, looking at the entrance to the kitchen. Following her gaze, your eyes landed on another one of those stupid turkeys.

“Another one?” you whispered, drawing the attention of Nash and Libby.

“Another what-“

The room froze, everyone’s eyes on the turkey. Everything in the room was still, just staring. Until the turkey screamed its battle cry.

“What the hell,” Nash muttered, watching as the turkey ran in circles around the kitchen.

Libby jumped onto the counter watching as the turkey made a b-line toward her. She screeched, grabbing that pan of cookie dough and throwing it, hitting the turkey right on the head. Her hands flew to her mouth, covering it in shock.

“I just killed that turkey,” she mumbled. “I just killed that fucking turkey,” she repeated, her eyes wide.

Across the room, Nash stood staring at Libby. “Good job, Lib,” he said proudly.

“Usually, the turkey in the kitchen is dead,” Jameson said, entering the kitchen. Avery soon followed behind, probably startled by all the commotion.

“Libby, what’s wrong? What was that bang? And most of all, why are you on the counter?” She gave no time to answer any of the questions.

Libby’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to form words.

“Are those turkey cupcakes?” Avery asked, looking to the tray of cupcakes beside Libby.

“I was stress baking!”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Monday, November 25th, 2024

It was quiet again, the hallways. They weren’t empty this time, though, just quiet. Sitting on one of the many benches placed around Hawthorne House, you were reading a book, still too distracted by the turkeys which defeated the purpose of reading. Or what reading was supposed to be doing right now. Your book just wasn’t interesting enough. It couldn’t grab your attention like so many others had before. You thought it could be an escape, but it failed, miserably. Every sound, the rustle of a tree, the audible explosion of one of Xander’s creations, the faint shriek of Grayson’s violin, it all made you jump. When was the next time you’d be accosted by a turkey?

Bark, bark, bark

“Tiramisu!” Xander screeched as he ran after Tiramisu, both of them moving directly toward you.

Tiramisu jumped on the bench beside you, sticking his nose in your nose and then licking all over your face, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Xander!” you said, choppy through your laughter. “Help me!”

Once Xander had gotten to the bench, he opened his arm, scooping up Tiramisu. “I told you to stay by me, missy,” he said, “I said you had to be the Oren to my Avery!”

“You’re using Tiara as your bodyguard?” you laughed in disbelief, the concept of Tiramisu, so tiny next to Xander, being his bodyguard was comical.

Xander head nodded proudly, placing Tiramisu back on the ground. He flopped onto the bench, blowing out an exaggerated sigh. “It’s like this dog doesn’t even know English.”

You snorted. “Xander, you’re not gonna believe what I’m about to tell you…”

A smile grew on his face, looking over at you. “Aren’t you ecstatic to have Katrina here? I know you love her so much.” One of his long, skinny fingers approached you, poking your cheek.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “I don’t know. At least Gigi will be there.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” said Xander. Tiramisu jumped up on the bench, lying on her back and spreading across your and Xander’s laps, all smiling and panting. Your hand instinctively went to his belly, petting him.

Suddenly, a thought came to your mind. “Who takes Tiramisu on walks?”

Xander stared blanking at the cleanly lined trees across the path, his smile fading. “That’s a very good question.” He cocked his head, genuinely lost in thought.

“Oh, my gosh. I don’t know who walks Tiramisu,” he admitted. “I don’t even know if she gets walked.”

The two of you sat, contemplating Tiramisu’s daily schedule, trying to find any space where a walk could fit it.

“She has her morning bath at 8, then she has breakfast at 9:30, every other week at 10:30 she has her manicure,” Xander said. “12:00 she has lunch and then goes to play.”

“Maybe that’s when she gets walked?”

“But that’s play time, not walking. At 12:45, she’s tired and takes her afternoon nap in Libby and Nash’s room, and joins Nash for a doggy guitar lesson and then a doggy piano lesson at 2:00 and 2:30.”

“How does she even play guitar or piano? It’s not like she has fingers,” you asked, thinking of all the possible, stupid, ways that Xander could have come up with.

Xander shot up, intrigued by the opportunity to share his creation. “Okay, so it’s one really big piano, like, each key is a foot wide, and it’s like those ones that you can step on to play it and it’s really fun.”

“What about the guitar?”

“That’s one isn’t really her playing, she just kind of paws at the strings and Nash’s hand…”

“Oh.”

More silence. Tiramisu panting. You pull your phone out, checking the time. 12:19 Perfect timing.

“Perfect timing,” you voiced. “It’s play time.”

Tiramisu shot up, jumping off of your laps and spinning in circles, waiting for you and Xander to play with her.

“Should we play with the long sword today?” Xander joked, standing up and aggressively rubbing Tiramisu’s back.

“For sure,” you said sarcastically, getting up from your own position, closing your book not caring about where you were.

Tiramisu trotted next to you as the group of you walked to one of the many expensive fields scattered around the Hawthorne property. There was actually an area dedicated to Tiramisu, a bucket of toys and beaten up sticks near the entrance to the fenced off land.

He fake threw it a few times, finally letting it go and watching Tiramisu launch after it, a bolt of brown, curly fur.

“We really need to find a time to get her walked,” you sighed.

“Or just ask Nash if she goes on walks.” Xander shrugged slightly, taking the returned stick and catapulting it again. You were surprised that Xander didn’t have a machine for this yet, but you guessed he just really wanted to spend some time with Tiara.

“Christmas is also coming up, maybe we’ll do something fun again like the other year,” reminded Xander.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of having to do Hawthorne Secret Santa That’s Not At All Secret Santa. “Crazy how me and Tiramisu got each other. She couldn’t even get me a present!”

“She did get you a present,” Xander pouted.

Shooting a glare at him, you crossed your arms. “I proper present. Not a pigeon he found on the driveway.”

A minute passed and Tiramisu still hadn’t returned. She couldn’t have gone far, but surely it had been far enough for you to not see her at all.

Another minute.

Tick, tock

Another minute.

What’s taking so long?

“Tiara?” You called, your voice echoing through the wind. “Tiara? Tiramisu!”

Nothing but trees rustling.

“Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne!” Xander shouted, starting to walk in the direction Tiramisu had last ran to. “Where are you?”

Trudging up the hilly part of Tiramisu’s play area, you peeked to the fall of the hill, two figures running around at the lowest point. You could easily recognize Tiramisu being one of them.

“Tiramisu!” you repeated, running down the hill. Watching as the hyper dog ran around after something, she finally caught up, pouncing on it.

“What is that?” Xander muttered, following you down the hill.

Approaching the writhing animal and Tiramisu, you recognized the long neck, the feathered body, the distorted squabble.

She got another turkey!

You scrambled over to her, rubbing and petting her. “Good girl, Tiara!”

“Yay!!” Xander whooped from behind you, pumping his fists in the air and jumping up and down. “Tiramisu’s a hero!” he chanted.

“Tiramisu’s a hero!” you joined in, jumping around as Tiramisu ran in circles around you.

Two turkeys left. Which, based on this pattern, two more days.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Tuesday, November 26th, 2024

Gigi’s arrival was scheduled for today. And Katrina. Ugh.

Avery was always the one to greet people at the door, as she owned Hawthorne House and didn’t want anyone doing anything for her. With the events of the last five days, Avery had to, reluctantly, bring a whole new group of bodyguards to the door.

You decided to join them, thinking that it would save you from the turkeys that seemed weirdly attracted to you. Your meet up spot was far from the entrance—in some random meeting room one the third floor of Hawthorne House. Maybe turkeys couldn’t climb stairs? It’s only other method of getting to the third floor would be elevator which wouldn’t work very well for them.

“So, Avery,” you said, sidling up into the beside Avery, “how do you think Thanksgiving is going to go this year? Seems pretty eventful already.”

“Not good.” Her head was balanced in her hands, elbows in the table. “Everything has gone to shit because of those stupid turkeys.”

Reassuringly patting her back, you leaned back in your chair. “I think it’ll be fine. Thanksgiving—scratch that, any holiday—here is always a little eventful. Like secret santa the other year.”

“Oh, my god, that was hilarious. Libby got out so fast,” she let out in a laugh.

“Oh! Not really a holiday, but from what I’ve heard of Nash’s bachelor party,” you said. “You know what?” Avery hummed. “I should get Grayson a pair of fresh leather pants for Christmas this year.”

Avery let out a strained giggle, trying to hold it in, before she exploded, throwing her head back and leaning in her chair, almost tipping it over.

“Ms. Grambs,” one of the new bodyguards said, his voice commanding. Your laughter quickly subsided, leaving you and Avery silent. “Ms. Grayson will be here soon. I recommend starting to walk to the entrance in order to get here before she does.”

Avery nodded, standing up from her chair, stretching, and walking over to Oren. You followed her like a lost puppy, standing awkwardly on the side as she tells Oren what the other bodyguard had just said to her.

“Shall we get going?” she offers.

“We shall,” Oren replies flatly.

With what seemed like an entire army of bodyguards behind you, Avery, and Oren, you started your journey, through the windy halls and passageways.

Truly, you were excited to have Gigi over, thrilled, but it was that cat. Katrina. Katrina Katrina. Now, she wouldn’t do anything to you—couldn’t do anything. It was just that hunger way she looked at you, her eyes forming into slits as she glared at you from perched beside Gigi.

“I can just tell you’re thrilled to have Katrina over,” Avery said, practically reading your mind.

“Me and Grayson already had this conversation,” you huffed, shaking your head at the ground.

Avery just laughed, following your gaze to the ground. “It just,” she paused. “Katrina isn’t even scary.”

“It’s not that!” you burst. “It’s not that she herself is scary, it’s just that way she looks at me like I’m her next meal. Like I’m one of the turkeys!”

Avery seemed very amused by your argument, just smirking that smile that told you she had spent one too many hours with Jameson.

“Maybe you are her next meal,” Avery teased, poking your ribs.

“You’d just let me get scarfed down by that cat?” you scoffed. “Wow. What a fake friend.” You crossed your arms, dramatically turning away from Avery and picking up your speed.

Avery just skipped after you, jumping on your back and holding your sleeve to keep you close by. “I was just kidding, jeez,” she laughed, watching as a smile broke out on your face. “See! You aren’t even mad at me!”

You joined her giggling, knocking into each other as you walked through the halls, laughing over stupid stuff that probably wasn’t even funny.

“Oh, my god!” Avery jumped up. “There’s something I have to tell you about! Okay, let’s set the scene, I’m in my room, it’s an unusually quiet night. Jameson isn’t back yet and his curfew, set by me because we had an event early the next morning, was way behind us. Hours behind.”

“Damn. Grayson would never. Could,” you corrected.

“I know! I’m getting tired, it’s like twelve and I’m just planning on going to bed by myself, cold and lonely,” she continued.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, pulling you in. “You could have just cuddled with me,” you said with a wink.

“Aww,” she shimmed her shoulders against you. “Okay, back to my story! The lights are off, I’m almost asleep, until the door finally creaks over, Jameson standing in the doorframe. To be funny, I pretended to sleep, waiting for him to shake me awake or something. But all that happens is that Jameson crawls into bed next to me— Oh! I forgot to mention he was drunk. Yeah, so, he crawls up next to me and just whispers in my ear,” she lowered her voice into a whisper, “‘I have a secret…’”

You recognized that, something Avery had mentioned one time when she was talking about her mom. “Doesn’t that have something to do with your mom..?” you guessed, shrinking away in case you were wrong.

“Yes! At this point, I’m intrigued, waiting for Jameson to whisper whatever this secret was into my ear. And what he said is un-fucking-believable. He says: ‘When me and Nash and Grayson and Xander were younger, we tried starting a band, and we uploaded a bunch of videos to YouTube—it was a private account—but someone hacked in and made it public. So, somewhere on the internet, you can find video of all of us dressed up real funny and singing a bunch of shitty songs.’”

Your mouth drops open, trying to picture a younger Grayson on some makeshift stage at Hawthorne House, performing some pop or rock song.

Avery just laughs and smiles at your shocked expression. “That’s exactly how I felt on the inside,” she giggled, clearing her throat to continue her story. Again. “Like any sane person, of course I go in my computer the next day, and search up their little band. It wasn’t difficult, even if I didn’t have a name, and lord was it funny. Jameson on electric guitar, Nash playing some regular guitar, Xander on drums, and Grayson for vocals.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not!”

“She isn’t!” a new voice pops in. In front of you stood Gigi, Hello Kitty suitcase almost exploding, mostly like being packed with cat toys. Katrina was sitting next to her, way too professional for a cat.

“So?” Gigi lifts her eyebrows. “What is she not kidding about?”

You and Avery grinned at each other, slowly turning to Gigi. “Your brother and his brothers’ attempt at a boy band,” you both said.

Gigi gasped dramatically, a smile stretching across her face. “You’re kidding!”

“She’s not!”

“I’m not!”

Not too far, as you’d expect, was Oren, the smallest hint of a smile in his face. He noticed you staring, gesturing a nod toward Avery. “She isn’t lying. I was there.”

Through the commotion of laughter and conversation, it would’ve been hard to hear anyone, anything if something went wrong. Or if you had a visitor.

“Ow!” Gigi winced, placing a hand on her hip and rubbing it. “What was that?” She jumped again. “Ow! What the…” She looked down to her left, finding the perpetrator.

“A turkey?” she asked, her voice a mix of shocked confusion and fear. And then full fledged fear as she realized that there was a turkey trying to get her. “It’s a turkey!” she squeaked, running over and trying to climb Oren like a jungle gym.

Noticing her alert, he gets right in to bodyguard mode, looking around for the threat. He landed on the turkey, reaching somewhere on his hip.

“You two, move back. Now,” he ordered, not wasting a second once we had. Just like the first turkey taken down, a loud bang rang out, the turkey thudding on the floor after.

A new commotion broke out after the shot was fired, filling the foyer with a sound too loud for you. Quiet was something you were used to now. It wasn’t too nothing, it just was. But this, it broke all of that quiet.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Wednesday, November 27th, 2024

There was one last turkey. One final turkey before this was all over. Like you had the day the turkey war began, everyone was gathered in one of the dining room to eat lunch, but instead, it was a meeting.

“Okay, everyone!” Avery commanded from the head of the table, standing up from her chair. “I have brought you here today to discuss our game plan to take down the final torturous turkey. I have devised a role for each of you.”

A list appeared on a screen that seemed invisible until now.

Avery and Y/N: Gamemasters [;)] - Will create solutions and test products alongside our Builders.

Libby and Nash: Healers (Lots of baked goods…) - Helps in case of emergencies.

Jameson and Gigi: Fuel - Food, drinks, whatever. Most likely working beside our Healers.

Grayson and Oren: Logistics (of sorts) - Thinks about how our plan may actually work, what might go wrong, and how to fix it.

Xander and Max: Builders (you’ve got this, Max!) - Builds our solution if needed, tests it too.

Oren’s Men: Capturers - searches for the turkey and relays messages to Oren.

Tiramisu & Katrina: Our Last Resort Weapons - If all else fails, we have them to use.

“Working in these teams will help our plan work better. Each of us being alone may cause too much stress or tension. Having multiple people on a job will also move things alone faster,” Avery states. “Lots of these roles will work with other roles, example, Gamesmakers will often work with the Logicians and Builders. Because of our collaboration, we’ll need a method of communication. Phones may be laggy and are very reliant on battery, which some of us don’t value.” Avery shot a glare at Jameson. “So, each of you will be given a walkie-talkie.” She looked to Oren, motioning for a box on the floor ten feet from the table. He lifted the box, walking around the table and distributing one to each member.

“Now, shall we spread out? Our Healers: Libby, Nash, and our Fuel: Jameson, and Gigi in the kitchen. The Gamemakers, Logistics, and Builders follow me. Capturers spread out and look for the turkey. Our final weapons will also be with our healers and fuel. Go!”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Nothing was working. Each plan failed by just a little bit, and when you tried fixing it, it failed again. Everyone was tired. Sitting there for three hours trying to think of something, trying it , and failing. No matter how much food and drinks you were given, that adrenaline from before was starting to fade. We also haven’t got any word on where the turkey could be.

You lay on the floor, head resting on Grayson’s chest, his hand running through your hair, down your back, and back up.

“We can’t give up,” Avery said, sitting up from her defeated starfish on the floor.

“But there’s only one more option left,” you groaned.

“Katrina and Tiramisu.”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

“Oren,” a distorted voice came from his walkie-talkie, “we’ve got’em. In Alexander’s Wing. He was standing out front of Alexander’s room, almost got in. Couldn’t find him for a while; place’s a mess.”

From across the room, you watched an exaggerated frown form in Xander’s face.

“Time to move out,” Oren ordered, leading the way.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Luckily for you, every hallway of Xander’s wing was filled to the brim with weird trinkets and big machine pieces. Hidden behind a long table which was most likely used to hold fancy decorations at one point, everyone crouched, covered by the new less fancy things piled on the table.

“Xander, you’ve really got to clean up your mess,” Nash said, that mother hen coming out of him.

Xander waved a dismissive hand in his face. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll make Grayson do it then.” Xander’s worst fear: someone possibly messing up his perfectly messy set up with their perfectly clean organization skills. Which Grayson excelled at.

Xander’s head turned slowly toward Nash, his eyes narrowed. “You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” He punctuated every word, but it was difficult to take Xander seriously sometimes.

“You know damn well I would dare,” Nash chuckled, meeting Xander’s eyes, steady and even, not even a hint of intimidation.

“Enough with the bickering,” Avery demanded. “Do you guys remember the plan?”

Avery’s head spun around, looking at everyone, landing on Libby and Max frantically shaking their heads. With a sigh, Avery explained the plan. Again. “We send you in as bait,” Avery pointed to you, “and wait for the turkey. Once it tried to attack, we jump out and attack it. If nothing else works, we send out Tiramisu and Katrina. Now do you got it?”

The silent agreement was enough for Avery, sending you out to take your place across from the turkey. You felt like Avery or Nan, staring down the turkey, waiting for any movement from it. The tension built, heart racing under the gaze of everyone, everything. This probably looked so stupid: you, standing in front of a turkey, practically have a staring contest, while everyone else was scattered around the room hidden behind piles of shit Xander needed to clean up.

You knew that even if the turkey did attack you, which was what this plan relied on, you’d be safe. Each person was equipped with a weapon of their choice. Gigi was keeping Katrina back, Oren had his gun, Avery held her knife, steady in her fingers. Jameson had a finished bottle of wine, Xander held Tiramisu back, Max had been nervously gripping her wrench before, Libby had a baking sheet, Nash had a whole goddamn guitar, and, lastly, Grayson firmly held one of the long swords. None of these people would let you get hurt, even if it was by accident every single one of them would feel bad, like it was their fault.

But now, standing in front of the turkey, you have to put all that behind. Face this stupid thing head on.

It finally made a sound, a distorted gobble. You braced for impact at the sound of a squeal coming from somewhere in the room, but it never came. When your eyes opened, a streak of light brown blew past you. Was it the turkey? It was only until that same distorted squabble cried out that you realized that either Katrina or Tiramisu. Based on the fact that Katrina would probably enjoy seeing you being eaten by a turkey, you expected to find Tiramisu wherever the flash had gone to. On one side of the room, the opposite side, you heard a whine. So it wasn’t Tiramisu.

The sound of something being dragged across the floor drew your attention back to the other side of the room. Katrina moved slowly toward you, dragging the turkey in mouth toward you. She dragged it to your feet, stopping, sitting very professionally, looking up at you and flashing one of those strange smiles that cats can pull off. She nudged the turkey with her nose, sitting back up a pawing at it.

“Katrina!” Gigi shouted, her voice a mix of anger and admiration. “What was that? You weren’t supposed to go until I told you to!” she scolded, picking Katrina up.

Katrina looked up at her with those innocent eyes, nuzzling in Gigi’s neck. Gigi huffed out a sigh, giving up on trying to lecture Katrina into listening.

“Well,” Avery said, her voice holding a confusing emotion, “that was the final turkey. It’s over.”

The room broke out into a cheer, even Oren was smiling, but the only one standing still, in the middle of it all was Avery. Weaving through everyone, you walked up to Avery, taking one of her hands.

“You okay?” you asked, trying to catch her gaze.

She shrugged. “Sure.”

You gave her that look that Nash always gave you (you were still trying to master it), cocking a brow at her (another thing you’d learned!). “What’s wrong? You sad there’s no game anymore?”

Avery stayed quiet, swaying with you when you wrapped your arms around her. “I guess,” she said shamefully.

“I swear you’re starting to sound more and more like Jameson every day,” you teased, poking her in the ribs this time. “Now, come on, turn that frown—“you flashed a smile”—upside down.”

Taking both of her hands, you forced her to dance with everyone else, swaying around the room until she finally gave in.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Thursday, November 28th, 2024

There was a singular turkey on the large table, making it look small. Everything else was normal, and you knew damn well that with a snap of her finger Avery could have a thousand more turkey and make this year’s turkey amount normal. But she didn’t. And it felt like home. Watching everyone argue over how much turkey everyone would get, fighting over the last pieces.

Your hand searched around under the table, meeting Grayson’s and wrapping your fingers around his, leaning your head against his shoulder. A smile, unknowing smile grew on your face, watching everything, so perfect.

Maybe now you would try a little harder to make this place feel like home.

a/n: WOOOOOOOOO!!!! this took, like, over a week to write it’s actually insane. and the end still seems sort of rushed 😣😣 but i’m gonna leave it and maybe come back to it later. because of the rush, i don’t care if there’s any mistakes, this isn’t proofread……..

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Monday, May 5 - Tuesday, May 6 Part I

Harmony: Okay, hi. First of all, I wanna thank everybody for a really successful raid on the magic shop last night. Good job, minions! Yes, you deserve it. Secondly... somebody remembered to pick me up the sweetest little unicorn! Brad: What? Harmony: Brad, guess someone was feeling guilty for standing me up in the tenth grade. Brad: I, I had to get her something. She sired me. Peaches: Sire-whipped.

~~Buffy Season 5 Episode #80: "Real Me"~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Haunted By You (Buffy/Angel, T) by badly_knitted

The Willow Tapes (Tapes 15 and 16) (Kennedy,Xander, T) by madimpossibledreamer

Can't Be My Design (Xander, T, Devil May Cry xover) by madimpossibledreamer

Don't Be Gentle (Spike/Angel, E) by Leata

Dancing (Buffy/Spike, T) by flootzavut

For Science (Buffy/Spike, T) by flootzavut

[Chaptered Fiction]

And some roommates (don't worry we're cool) Ch. 17 (Xander, Ensemble, T) by Grianbui

Red Xandra: Season One Ch. 25 (Xander, Ensemble, T) by Kickaha

when my time comes around (lay me gently in the cold dark earth) Ch. 2/8 (Buffy/Giles, M) by guin_ramble, HuonParticlesAreHarmless

Cherry Teeth Ch. 6 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Splitterregen

Ouroboros Ch. 1/5 (Buffy/Spike, M) by werehorse

Comfort Me Ch. 2 (Buffy/Giles, E) by LonesomeSundown

Cookie Monsters Ch 2 (Angel/Sp[ike, M) by fatalfae

I Spy CH. 5 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Geliot99

Twelfth Labour Ch. 9 (Spike/Angel, T) by xaeyrnofnbe

The Librarian Ch. 11 (Giles, ) by happyboy1980

The Sunnydale Imp Ch. 10 (Ensemble, unrated) by Bloodredtiger

Six Weeks Past Extinction Ch. 7 (Angel/Dru/Spike/Buffy, E) by Anonymous

mr. domestic Ch. 3 (Spike/OC, E) by EmWritesStuff_Sometimes

so I'll be everywhere that you'll be Ch. 4 (Buffy/Spike, E) by ForASecondThereWedWon

Chosen Ch. 1 (Buffy/Spike) by cawthraven

Time to Heal - Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, unrated) by spuffybaby

Stray, Chapter 15 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Feanix88

Ouroboros, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, E) by werehorse

Fifty Shades of Spike, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Pyewacket

Lie to Me, Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, E) by CheekyKitten

Once More, With Fangs, Chapter 7 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Cazzy

The Plan, Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, E) by NotYourGrave

I Spy, Chapter 4-5 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Geliot99

Restore to Backup, Chapter 5-13 (Buffy/Spike, T) by Annie Dolnar

Going Down, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, E) by MillennialCryBaby

Solemates, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, E) by ClowniestLivEver

The Zeppo In Time, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, E) by CheekyKitten

As In a Dream Upon Waking, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, E) by In Mortal

Dead Poet's Inheritance, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, ) by Soulburnt

Anti-Hero, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Willow25

The Pryce of Tyme, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Joan963z, Ragini

Candy Grams, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, E) by ClowniestLivEver

Hat Trick Ch. 11 (Xander, T, multiple xovers) by jarinmyheartinmyjar

I Shall Dress In Aeternum Ch. 5 (Buffy, M, Highlander xover) by BlueStories

Hearts a Mess, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Spike, E) by splendidchapette

As In a Dream Upon Waking, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, E) by In Mortal

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: shame reactions - pom pom squad (Buffy/Faith) by softest-butch

Artwork: Spike () by doodlejoops

Artwork: Buffy & Spike () by werehorsebite

Artwork: Giles () by garchankdefender

Artwork: Willow & Tara () by stars-ephemera

Artwork: Giles & Jenny () by yarboyandy

Artwork: Spike, Drusilla, & Connor () by artsying-ifer

Playlists: BtVS Playlists () by thenyouwere

Icons: () by

Manip: Episodic art for BtVS 04.05. “Beer Bad” () by revello-drive-1630

Artwork: Spike () by Cardboard_rocks

[Reviews & Recaps]

Buffy Seasons 3–5 Review (First-Time Watcher) by Thexzq

PODCAST: Episode 64 - Pies and Polls (Pangs) by

[Community Announcements]

Lonely Prompts Sunday, Week 18 by comment-fic

Monday, May 5 - History by [community profile] fic_promptly

Tuesday Prompt: Dawn and Daytime by comment-fic

Tuesday, May 6 - Promotion Day by Necronikki

If you are experimenting with creating AI agents/bots, DON'T use *Twisting the Hellmouth* for your tests. by tthfanfic.org

[1moreff-creator]

How would you rank potential culprits in terms of both likeliness & how satisfying they would be to you personally?

Hmm… Well, I kinda answered likelihood in my EP 13 theory revision, but I’ll go more in detail here. And personal satisfaction is definitely an interesting question, so thanks for the ask!

Likelihood

MonoTV/Arei/Xander/Min/Teruko/Mai (in no particular order): All impossible for one reason or another.

Charles: Effectively impossible too.

David-Veronika-J (in that order): Alibis. Also David and Veronika have plenty of reasons why it wouldn’t make sense for them to be the murderer, but mainly it’s the alibi thing.

Levi: You don’t go that hard in EP 13 and then, just… be the killer. This one’s mostly vibes btw.

Nico-Hu: I greatly respect Hu!Culprit truthers, but I don’t think it’s a very likely theory. Both Nico and Hu have a few reasons why I can’t quite see them as the culprit, but the main reason they’re this low is that I currently have no reason to doubt their alibi.

Rose: Kinda narratively protected by the fact she has to back up Teruko’s claim that the tape disappeared from the gym before the lockdown. If she’s the killer we could actually be cooked on that front.

Arturo: Only other person who’s confirmed to know about Arei and Eden’s conversation about his secret, but there are quite a few issues with this idea.

Whit: I really don’t know why he knew Charles had no nighttime alibi, which is the main reason he’s this high. Also, because if someone asked Eden for the tape, it would be Mr “Hey David go to the relax room” himself. Plus, the ball of clothes could be held together by glue from his stationary and I think that’s the funniest possible way that particular mystery gets solved.

But, you know the drill, none of the previous characters could have taken the tape. And because I think it’s weird to think anyone asked Eden for the tape (she was in the dress-up room and seemed to already be heading out of the second floor without ever going to the gym, so clearly she didn’t go down there expecting to get the tape, meaning grabbing it was a spur of the moment decision and not the result of a request), and Ace has even bigger issues, so…

Ace in number two, Eden number one. Already went into detail as to why in the previously linked EP 13 theory revision.

Personal Satisfaction

(Obvious disclaimer that this is an entirely self-indulgent list, if anyone reading this makes one they are going to differ drastically and that’s cool, also I will respect the dev’s decision no matter if I personally dislike it because art is subjective and I also can’t actually know how much I would like something until I see it executed etc etc)

MonoTV/Arei/Xander/Min/Mai: Yeah I’d be kinda miffed if the culprit is someone that should be completely impossible from what we know.

Teruko: I want the main character to be the main character. Teruko’s genuinely fascinating and I’d hate to see her go this early, especially when I see no indication she actually did this.

Veronika: They already took my favorite character by executing Min, please don’t take my second favorite too D:

David: This motherfucker’s MV haunted me for months I am not letting him die this early.

Levi: Wow CH 13 really changed my perspective on this guy huh? But yeah, it’d just be weird for him to be the killer now after All That.

Nico: I think it’d be really interesting to explore how the cast would navigate having an attempted murderer around, so I’d be disappointed if they die here.

Charles: The trial is just going to read insanely weirdly if he’s, by a miracle of God, the killer. I don’t see a way to make him be this useful and still explain that he’s the killer somehow.

Hu: You can’t make her go that hard on CH 12, set up an interesting foil with Veronika through their secrets, set up an interesting dynamic with both David and Nico after having her trust in them shattered, and then just kill her off without leaving me a little bit disappointed.

Whit: Making him die before Charles just feels like a bit of a wasted opportunity imo, though of course I’ll respect the decision if it happens.

J: Lots of her trial lines would read weird. Also, she’s my first survivor pick after Teruko and I believe she will become the primary support character after Charles gets poisoned with strychnine in CH 3. You will get no elaboration on that, but just know I like the idea, and while I will perfectly understand and accept if that’s not the way the story goes, in terms of personal satisfaction, it would sting a bit.

Rose: I just feel like her character has more to offer, you know? This one’s very vibe based tbf.

Ace: Unlike the previous options, I think I can kinda imagine a world where Ace!Culprit is genuinely a good send-off to his character. I feel like his character still has more to offer and he doesn’t quite thematically fit the chapter, though.

Arturo: The exact same situation as Ace, except now we don’t have to deal with Arturo bothering J during CH3, and that’s a plus on my book. I’m intrigued by his character, but the same can be said about literally every other DRDT character, and the end of the trial is as good a time as any to offer all the answers we still need about him.

Eden: It probably shouldn’t surprise you that, after an entire year of subscribing to the theory, I’ve grown attached to Eden!Culprit from a narrative standpoint. Even though I actually didn’t like it at first, I think there are ways to make Eden a genuinely compelling culprit to a degree I don’t think is there in the other characters.

I believe the inevitable End of Trial Trauma Dump could close out her character in a satisfying way, explaining both motive and mindset; she fits the theme of the chapter better, since her being the blackened would prove what Arei came to believe about there being no such thing as an Ideally Good Person; it would allow for a lot of development (negative development mind you, which I love to see) of other characters; it would serve to start the Second Act Low-point at CH 3; and, well, I’d have been right. This is personal satisfaction, so it’d be silly to ignore that fact.

Anyways, that was pretty fun! Thanks for the ask!

[thousand-winters]

Fates was my first FE in 3Ds and I've replayed it a lot, so unfortunately I got attached, sorry, more thoughts to the air because I'm not putting this on the tags but...

What also bothers me is the huge contrast between Queen Hinoka (Conquest ending) and King Leo (Birthright ending).

First of all, it's kinda interesting because we lowkey have sexism vs prejudice awaiting these two. But even then Hinoka still has a way easier time ahead of her as a ruler than Leo does.

Hinoka is seem to be incredibly uncomfortable about becoming queen because it was never supposed to be her. The men were first in line, Ryoma as the crown prince, and should something happen to him, then Takumi, despite Hinoka being older. But being as both of them died, then she has to take over, which she has NO IDEA how to do. It's weird that she wasn't meant to be in line after Ryoma considering that they already had a queen at the time? Why was she not eligible? What's up with Hoshido? It feels like women only rule if all the available men are dead, but I guess Hinoka gets Mikoto as a precedent so she's not gonna have too bad of a time.

(Plus she's inheriting a kingdom that's, despite it all, still thriving, soooo...)

Leo, on the other hand, inherits the throne because Camilla declined it. She was meant to be the queen if Xander died, but as we also see in her Conquest ending, she was never planning to stick around, and given that two of her siblings died here... well, she probably can't even bear to stay. I suspect she only stayed as long as she did because she was protecting her siblings from their father (the fact they all have to protect each other from Garon to the point Xander is terrified in the CD drama when Leo messes up is haunting too, points for most traumatized royals around). In any case, Leo ascends to the throne.

What gets me here is the whole bonus plot with Forrest if you marry off Leo in your playthrough. Nightmare deeprealm babies. But in any case, while Leo seems quite judgmental (his shitty dad arc 💔 my boy did not escape the cycle) of Forrest's feminine sense of style, it seems like part of it comes from him knowing Forrest is going to be mocked and ridiculed for it, not so much that he, personally, minds. Which is really interesting considering Leo is NOT the most masculine prince around, with his little headband, and with how characters sometimes remark on his delicate facial features.

It does not bode well for him as a king when it comes to earning respect. Man, I even remember watching a video of someone who analyzed the art of the cypher cards, and when looking at Leo's King of Nohr's card, he commented on how his pose was quite femenine.

Leo KNOWS how to play the game, he's lived in Nohr his whole life, but he's inheriting a kingdom that was already empoverished and has just gotten ravaged by war. The king, the advisor (good riddance) and two of the royal siblings are dead, plus one leaving him behind. He's SO alone and having to take on that huge task and then seeing his sibling that betrayed them just thriving in Hoshido, while possibly struggling to even earn respect because of his image and the fact it was his father that was in charge when everything got ruined.

It's so messed up!!!

Frankly, when he says he has many plans for Nohr, I can never stop thinking he's so playing the long game. Don't let the petty 18 yo filled with grief in charge. He's a strategist too, I can imagine him truly playing the long game to get revenge because the situation he was left in is SHIT, and Corrin is lowkey like "haha, glad we can all be friends (:"

[arialux-astralites]

Arialux's Hobbies List

I didnt realize I never mentioned nor released the entire list of Hobbies I made for each one of them lol😭

Zack: Hobbies: Watching Any Animated movies, Card games, Star Wars fan, ultimate frisbee, makes weird fusion food, Street fashion, watches horror movies, camping, motorbike racing.

Razor:  Hobbies: parenting 7 siblings (no payment here), Cooking, stitching, knitting, Judo, drinking caffeine, hoarding coupons, story-telling, karaoke, lullabies, studying for medical degree, taking care of others first, cleaning, watching movies. multi-tasking, puzzle-solving, card games. (basically never had time for making his own skills)

Razel: Hobbies: Tea Ceremonies, Gymnastics, Classical Piano, Calligraphy, Business/Finance Reading, Multilingual, Speed Chess, Antique Coin/Stamp Collecting, Poetry (secret), Large collection of brooches.

Aurelian: Hobbies: Making Song Covers (unreleased), Singing, ASMR Videos, Self-Care, Pretty Accessories, baking, cooking, embroidery, basic piano, Morning Runs, Beaches, Planners, Routines, Honey Milk Tea, Traditions

Zeus -  Hobbies: Writing/Reading (esp. Mythology, History, Folklore, sometimes Architecture or Robotics), Calligraphy, Painting Houses/Fantasy cities, watercolor painting, Robotics and 3D-Printing.

Aphrodite-  Hobbies: Henna Art, Journalism & Writing/Reading (esp. Mythology, History, Psychology & Romance), Cooking & Baking, Bento Crafting,  Yoga and Tree Climbing, Ballet, Flower Language, Embroidery.

Xander:  Hobbies: Theater Kid, can capture any characters essence perfectly, collecting seashells, crocheting, lord of the rings, creating clothes for his wolf plushie, drinking coffee.

Astraeus -  Hobbies: Collecting or designing Sticker Sheets, Collects shiny/Iridicent/Sparkly things, baking, Reading (Fantasy, Space, Animals, Plants, Crafting), Karate, Writing Lyrics, Paper Cranes, star-gazing, making wishes on shooting stars, loves cats.

Roxanne: Hobbies: Karaoke, Love & Deepspace, Genshin Impact, Gaming, Rock-Climbing, Thrill seeking-activities, drone-flying.

Fyrix: Hobbies: Skateboarding, roller skating, freestyle-dancing, Partying, Visiting Haunted houses, Horror Video Games.

Azair: Hobbies: Hoarding Food, Negotiation, Running, visiting parks. Cleaning.

Xavier:  Hobbies: Playing the xylophone, singing to himself, enjoys games, enjoys studying, reads about abandoned places.

River: Hobbies: Baking, loves watching watercolor painting, knitting, gardening, arts and crafts, restoring things, loves reading books in the window when it Rained, he loves plushies and marine biology.

Azure: Hobbies: Listening to Lyric singing, music, playing Electric Guitar, Crystal charm bracelets, Identifying Cloud Patterns, loves taking sky pictures, buys and collects gemstones, loves sheep.

Rixen: Hobbies: Creates resin art, loves books (Ocean creatures, fun facts, plants, pirate stories), creates fancy eye patches, collects feathers, drawing fantasy creatures.

Rain: Hobbies: Digital and traditional Art, makes pretty lists for lots of things, loves scrapbooking, dancing in the rain, shaking rain of branches, adores animals, reading (endless interests in genres and topics), embroidery and singing when he's alone.

Florian: Hobbies: Studying Botany, Flower language, cloud patterns, creating rainbows with glass or water, photography, collects fantasy books, mythology and fairy tale books from various cultures.

Axillian: Hobbies: Playing Drums, collects perfect Autumn leaves, skateboarding, art, sci-fi movies, board games. horror movies. 

Lyric:  Hobbies: Playing the Flute and Piano, Enjoys Wind chimes and glass things, Making Candied flowers, reading/watching BL, Singing to himself, loves Harmonies, playing music from vintage music boxes (from his grandma).

Axzyte: Hobbies: Collecting Pretty things, Loves Marbles, BL, makes jewelry, photography, Anime, self-care, loves snow, hail and rain, Reading (Many genres/topics but wont try unless he KNOWS he'll enjoy it), Reading/Writing.

Valse: Hobbies: Flirting, Playing Violin, Ballet, Gymnastics, Yoga, Paper Cutting (剪纸), Anime/Manga, J-Pop, Feminine fashion, risky or dangerous activities.

Ace: Hobbies: ASMR Youtuber, Asian BL Dramas, Gymnastics, ​​​​​Karate, Horror Movies and podcasts, Video Games, Physics,  C-pop ,Cosplay and HSR.

[noplansl]

[ SQUARE ] : NEXA pandent Black [North Oak] : Muir Outdoor Couch (natural) [North Oak] : Riku Coffee Table Pitaya : Bohemian Desert - Rug natural Black . Sand : Jason Leather Jacket White II

dust bunny . : potted rubber tree dust bunny . paradise plants . fan palm NOMAD : Monstera Plant tarte. : fiddle leaf fig

Midwest : Formula - Silver (:ERG:) : Plant Growing Kit -Echeveria v1.0 NOMAD : Test Tube Orchid Pink NOMAD : Test Tube Orchid Red NOMAD : Ocimum Basilicum NOMAD : Phalaenopsis NOMAD : Ailanthus Altissima -David Heather- : Duffle Pile

KraftWork : Belltown Office . Bookshelf Oak Magazine Pile Green Pears Magazine Pile Travel Magazine Pile Architecture Magazine File Leather Travel Books Art Books Literature Book Row Leather Box Fabric Box Metal Globe Decor

e.marie : record crates ionic : Small Plants Ariskea : [Millie] Anthurium Round vase Mithral : * Full Hoya Fitchii (Pack A) Mithral : * Full Hoya Serpens (Pack A) {vespertine} : propagation bottle / fern. {vespertine} : propagation bottle / monstera. {vespertine} : propagation bottle / ficus. {vespertine} : sea side coral trinket bottles

dust bunny . : plantaholic cart . decor Mithral : * Wall Mounted Moon Planters (White) Mithral : * Drupacea Terrarium (Light Wood) Fancy Decor : Handerson Table tarte. : snake plant

Black . Sand : Hall Tree Jason Closet B floorplan. : haunted piano RARE [c/nt] floorplan. triple print / foam Oh Deer! : Ye olde: Frames

Midwest : 6AM - Coffee Midwest : 6AM - Magazine Midwest - 6AM - Books+Phone Midwest : Ocio - Vase

Schadenfreude : Fishie in Glass Milk Carton

Nutmeg. : Summer Backyard Chair w/Throw Nutmeg. : Summer Backyard Chair PG Nutmeg. : Summer Backyard Stacked Chairs Fancy Decor : Dipped Side Table dust bunny . : popsicle mini fridge . white andika : {Wherever you want to go}Set Pitaya : Bohemian Desert - Rug light Mithral : * Wide Hoya Pendant Lamp (Silver) Mithral : * Narrow Hoya Pendant Lamp (White)

NOMAD : Vinyl Curtain A // Stereoscopic KraftWork : Seaside Shed . Fishing Net with Seashells floorplan. : triple print / palms {vespertine} : -maneki neko neon sign/wall ver./tex change [Con.] : The Plate Collection - Washington [Con.] : The Plate Collection - California KAZZA : LittleDwellingPlantPot3 - pot Midwest : Drip - Floor Lamp White KraftWork : Seaside Shed . Mini Lighthouse

Tatty Soup : The Rusty Sink. [Fetch] : Ameri Mirror TBF : Bulkhead Light

Nutmeg. : Summer Backyard Lemon Tree dust bunny . : retro planters . speaker palm . white DIORA : Curtain Sheer2S Open/Closed

Apple Fall : Blossom Moldings Apple Fall : Blossom Crate & Paint Supplies Apple Fall : Blossom Paint Tin & Books Apple Fall : Blossom Painters' Ladder Apple Fall : Painters' Chair - LE Oak Apple Fall : Female Bust w/ Cloth - LE Paint Splatters

Nutmeg. : Cafe Entrance Chair Nutmeg. : Rosy Office Corner Wire Basket

Atelier Burgundy : Unfinished Wall & Frame Atelier Burgundy : Wall Painter Set Newspapers Floor covering Paint Bucket Ladder (small) Wall Paint Alpha Tintable Table

[Merak] : Sophia Sofa - PG [North Oak] : Eimi Side Table Nutmeg. : Cafe Entrance Newspaper Petite Mort : Elba Fluffy Cream Rug Concept} : 05. SATURDAYS. RATTAN LAMP A 7 : William Weston III GOLD (More human than dog) 7 : Pussy Power Mask (wall decor) dust bunny . : potted sago palm KAZZA : LittleDwellingPlantPot - pot

AB + Pitaya : Cozy Greenhouse . Sideboard (closed) Mithral : * Hoya Lacunosa Laos Speaker Fat Pack Fancy Decor : LoFi Cassette Stereo (white & silver) Fancy Decor : LoFi Cassette Tapes Fancy Decor : Silva Basket of Books Fancy Decor : Silva Binoculars

KraftWork : Austin Shelving . Bookcase KraftWork : Austin Shelving . Falling Leaves Vase Lush Green Ariskea : [February] Pottery Pot [Green] dust bunny . : giant palm plant CHAI. : Clarity Radio Oolong (fd) : Cat - 01 Standing (fd) : Cat - 02 Sleeping Curled

Soy. : House Plants Set #3 [Potted Dracaena-A] [Kres] : Critter Clocks - Kitty v1 FINCA : Wooden whale lamp nature

Scarlet Creative : Xander Skybox - Ground Version

８月の家 3 今回も結構家自体を窓やガラスドアを増やして開放感を作りつつ、家の中は区切ってみたりしました。広々としていたので難しかったけど楽しかったです🏚 Tumblr : https://t.co/JzerpbdE7T pic.twitter.com/OIQ4dfZdpx

— Ton (@Ton_Thumper) September 22, 2023

[gcu-sovereign]

I don't think that SNC could have done those things with the city's circumstances (in a single set). Xander coming to grips with the block on his own memory was a big part of his story, why should someone with less resources than him take both interest in the previous epoch and be interested in telling others about it (and maybe undermine extant power arrangements)? Mixing Phyrexian imagery into it's soaring, glamorous Art Deco would have muddled the impression for a first visit to the set (though you are right that including it later would be effectively punk after an invasion where basically everyone knew the reference).

Maybe it's my bias talking, but I think the SNC story was hamstrung a bit by having Eternally Useless Tourist Vivien in the plot instead of a less frequent planeswalker. Garruk could have connected to Elspeth on feeling haunted and taken an interest in protecting Giada after feeling like he'd let the Kenrith twins down (since they did fall under the tutelage of his nemesis Liliana and all).

Or Elspeth and Kiora could bond over their struggles and enforced distance from Theros, appreciating the small, dense and industrialized plane of Capenna as practically the furthest thing conceivable from that broad and pastoral place. Also it'd give that mermaid a chance to redeem herself in the eyes of some of the fanbase after that Eldrazi affair.

You're definitely right about the lack of endless&ancient part in this set compared to previous Ravnica outings. There seems to be much less distance between the subject in the art for MKM and the furthest part of the background than the same for RNA. Feels tight, relatively claustrophobic. So much more of MKM is looking towards the ground or against a wall, and it looks like none of the cases feature a something as plainly innocuous as large-scale graffiti.

Murders at Karlov Manor is pretty artistically uninspiring to me; the last two sets were overflowing with a great variety of weird art, and now we're back to Ravnica but without the cityscapes or slice-of-life that makes it compelling

I also feel like it's losing its specific Eastern European style that makes it distinct from New Capenna, which got me thinking about other ways I'd like to see them distinguished: Ravnica is endless and ancient, New Capenna is just a few generations old and very tightly bounded

And I wish New Capenna did more with the city's circumstances: generational trauma, postwar kids using Phyrexian iconography to shock their parents, scavenger teams bringing back poorly-understood war relics, despotic angels who can fall very far and still truthfully say they're better than the alternative

[spammykins]

@theredvaporeon

[cherrys-writings]

Good Friends

Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content, PiV sex, tigh riding, cockwarming, Grayson Hawthorne bites

   Another week passes before Skye contacts the lawyers about a will reading. I’m working on my manuscript in the solarium, legs draped across Grayson’s lap while he reads, when Skye bursts in, “Who is Avery Kylie Grambs?”

   The hand caressing my knee freezes and he takes a steadying breath before answering, “I’ve never heard of them.”

   Skye marches around, so she is standing in front of us, “according to the lawyers, my father requires the presence of certain people at the reading or it will not be read at all. One of these people is some Avery Kylie Grambs. Someone that none of us has heard of.”

   Then as if she just notices me, “oh hello sweetie! Xander said you were working on a new book. Will it be a little more….lighthearted?”

   “You could call it a romanticism revival,” I say, tousling Gray’s hair.

   “I have a soft spot for love stories. Especially, your love stories,” she gives us a knowing smile, before sweeping out of the room. 

   Grayson tosses my notebook on the coffee table, “you know Mary Shelly invented the horror genre during the romanticism movement, don’t you?”

   I shift so I’m sitting across his lap, “I’m familiar with the Romanticism Movement,” still playing with his hair, “I did convince you to sign up for ages of art and literature with me junior year.”

   Grayson laughs, hands resting on my hips, “Convinced? You begged me, Davis” 

   I close the space between us, “I don’t beg, Hawthorne,” moving to get up.

   He’s quick to stop me, practically throwing me into the plush cushions. Giggling, I try to unsuccessfully slip from his grasp; trapped beneath him. Barely containing a grin, I begin a new strategy, sliding my fingers around his sides, until I find the spot that makes him jump. Gray stifles his laugh as best he can, “Flower, what do you think you’re doing?”

   Instead of answering, I concentrate on that one spot. When he can’t hold back, the most wonderful sound bursts forth. Eyes squeezed shut, head ducked forward, squirming, and I find myself laughing with him. 

   “Please,” Gray gasps, trying and failing to find a ticklish spot of mine.

   His contagious laughter is a sound I haven’t heard in a long time. Desperate for it to continue, I dodge his hands blindly grasping for my wrists. 

   “Enough,” he holds my arms above my head, last remnants of laughter shake his form, “you’re done.”

   My laughing fit ceases when I look up. Grayson, drenched in sunlight, the honey and gold of his hair illuminated by the evening sky. Eyes smokey, almost haunting, and totally–

   “Exquisite,” I breathe

   “What’s ex–” 

   Raising my head, I connect our lips.Grayson relaxes into it, pushing my hands farther into the seat and settling himself against me. The world is reduced to nothing as I lose myself in his intoxicating kiss. He leaves slow kisses on my neck, a hand squeezing along my thigh to wrap around his. I try to reach out, to tangle my  hands in his hair, cradle his face, anything. Each time I’m met with a strong, gentle push to keep my hands still. My frustrated huff is met with Gray’s breathy chuckle before his lips are back on mine, hungry. Whining as he bites at my bottom lip. Legs around his waist, I try to pull him closer, rolling my hips up in search of something to ease my now growing frustration. A groan rumbles through his chest, his own need evident. When I grind upwards again, Grayson has my hips in a vice grip holding them still against the sofa.

   “Careful, my flower,” his face deadly serious.

   I sit up, “or what?”

   Grayson blinks, brows furrowed. His hands never leave their place tracing the skin along the waist of my shorts. I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth then along his jaw, his breaths heavy. 

   “Did you hear me, little prince,” I coo, rolling my hips again.

   He sighs, hands trailing up my spine, fingers digging slightly when I nip his jaw. “Tell me what’s gonna happen, little prince,” I mumble against his neck, working to loosen his tie. 

   “I want you go–,” Gayson licks his lips, averting his eyes.

   The beginnings of that word make my heart pound, “say it.”

   He meets my gaze, “I want you, goddess.”

   He stands without warning and leads me through one of the many hidden corridors in the house. Pressing him against the wall, I leave a trail of hot kisses to the spot behind his ear that makes him shiver. Grayson tangles his hands in my hair, tugging lightly. He whines when I step back, unbuttoning his shirt.

   “Off.” 

   He responds without hesitation, harshly pulling his arms out of the long sleeved button-down. My hands slip under the plain undershirt, his stomach muscles tensing at my touch, the fabric bunching together as it slides upward, quickly followed by my own top. He pulls me flush against him for another needy kiss, before picking me up. Grayson walks slowly towards his bed, squeezing my ass as I pepper kisses along his jaw. He turns, so I’m straddling him when he sits. He pulls my hips forward, grinding me against him, my breath hitches. Desire taking over, I rock against him, breathy moans escaping.

   “Someone’s needy,” Grayson breathes against my ear, hands running along the band of my bra,  “I wanna see you, all of you. Please.”

   The sweetness in his request pulls me back to reality, heat rising in my face when I stand, shimming out of my shorts and panties. Grayson kisses up my stomach, before pulling me to straddle his thigh. He nips at my collarbones, unclasping my bra, fingertips trailing down my arms and tossing it aside. Grayson sits back appreciating my bare form grinding against his slacks, his mouth slightly agape. 

   His hands grip my hips tightly, guiding my movements, “this feel good, flower?”

   “Mmhmm,” my mind clouds with building pleasure.

   I rest my head against his, cupping his face in my hands, eyes fluttering shut with each grind. Every motion, every thought consumed by the yearning for more; more of him. I let one hand slide down to stroke him through his slacks making him buck against me. Grayson’s fingers ghost along my soft flesh and my breath hitches when he brushes my nipple. I shudder under his touch, sighing from the combined sensations. My head falls back when he takes one into his mouth, moaning as he licks the peaked bud. I rake my hands through his hair, tugging harshly, approaching bliss. My hips stutter, elastic band tightening in my abdomen, “Grayson,” I whine. 

   Grayson’s eyes snap back to mine, dark, “say it again.” 

   Hands finding my hips again, he flexes the muscles of his thigh making me cry out from the added pressure; his name falling from my lips like a prayer. My breath comes in short gasps, catching in my throat when the band finally snaps, in blinding pleasure. Grayson pulls my hips against him, drawing it out as my thighs shake until I lean heavily against his shoulder, breathless. 

   He presses a kiss to my temple, “that was exquisite.” 

   I reach between us, feeling the shape of him. Grayson bucks his hips against my hand, before forcing himself still. I lean back to look at him, taking him by the shoulders, “we can stop, little prince.”

   “I want this. It’s just….been a minute.”

    I press a kiss to his forehead, “do you have something?”

   He smirks and we break apart for a moment. Grayson discards his boxers and fumbles through the table by his bed. My fingernails dig into his shoulders as I let myself slowly sink onto his length. 

   “Oh fuck,” Grayson moans. 

   He kisses down my chest, as I move on his length. He bites my lip, silencing the moan when he brings his thumb to circle my clit. Nibbling along my jaw and pushing me against the mattress. Mesmerized watching this abs tense and relax as he pounds into me, my hands wander over the taut planes. I nearly miss the adoration in Gray’s eyes when he lifts my chin, staring at me. He leans down for a messy kiss, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Grayson slows, groaning, suddenly rolling his hips at an agonizingly slow rhythm, a loud whine escapes me. Blond hair sticks to his forehead when he tucks his face against my neck, chuckling darkly. I push my hips upward, trying to meet his thrusts. He growls, sitting back and lifting them in a bruising grip. The perfect angle lets him thrust deeper until he hits the spot that has me seeing stars, gasping and grabbing at his forearms.

   Pressing my head back into the pillows, moaning, “so close, Gray.”

   My nails rake down his arms when I come undone, breath catching in a silent scream. Graysons nails dig into my waist, swearing as he loses himself in bliss, eyebrows scrunched. His hips jerk with shallow thrusts before finally stilling. “Can I just stay like this for a bit? I like how you feel around me.”

   I nod, still breathless and pull him to rest against my chest.

   “You’re perfection, little prince,” I pant, carding my fingers through his hair.

   Grayson hums in reply, tracing patterns on my chest. We lay there in silence until long after dark, before sliding apart. He catches my arm as I move to get up, light eyes pleading.

   “I’m not going far Gray,” I coo.

   Hesitantly, he lets go, watching my every move as I walk into his en suite and fill the tub. I stand in front of him, taking his hands in mine, “I’ll never leave you Grayson.”

   “Promise,” he asks.

   “Promise,” I press a kiss to his hand before leading him to sit behind me in the steaming water. 

   I lean back on his shoulder, caressing his arms wrapped loosely around mine. Savoring the closeness, Grayson presses kisses to the top of my head, murmuring sweet praises. When the water starts to cool, he wraps us in fluffy towels. Grayson reaches into the cupboard before having me sit on the edge of the tub. Vanilla and brown sugar invade my senses as he gently rubs lotion up my calf, periodically kissing along my leg.

  “Grayson, why do you have my favorite lotion in your bathroom,” I look at him expectantly.

   He moves to the other leg and slowly massages each arm, “Because I can, my flower.” He moves to pick me up, I wince when his hands graze my hips. Grayson cradles my face in his hands, panicked eyes searching mine, “Did I hurt you?”

   I grab his wrists, leaning back to see his full face, “I’m not made of glass, little prince.” 

   Satisfied, he scoops me up, pulling the covers back and unceremoniously dropping me in bed. I giggle, scooting over arms outstretched to him as he tucks the blankets around me, strong arms pulling me into his chest. “Sometimes,” I yawn, “I wish other people could see this side of you.”

 “You better not let anyone know I have a heart, flower,” Grayson kisses my forehead.

   I slowly drift to sleep, in the place where I was always meant to. No longer ships in the night, no more endless questions, just Grayson and I tangled in one another. Maybe Nash was right, in a sense, we weren’t good friends, we were home.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Tuesday, March 11, Part II

[Fandom Discussions]

big fan of bangel as a ship not because anything about it was in any way safe or healthy but because after it’s over they continue to haunt one another like ghosts. by xaeyrnofnbe

ok so illyria isn’t very high up there in terms of buffyverse characters i like by xaeyrnofnbe

As a Buffy fan, are you an Angel/Buffy shipper or a Spike/Buffy shipper lol? by msfbgraves

Something I just realized after watching some of Angel s1 is that Angel and Riley are kind of similar. by evvyyypeters-fics

K, so there's a lot about this ongoing discussion that bugs me by initiumseries

buffy dancing with xander in when she was bad is so excellent because it’s all about POWER. by 711slurpees

SPOILER FOR S6 OF BUFFY by amberkendslacy

So spike can wait almost an entire season to spill the beans about him and Buffy by i-put-the-bi-in-dumb-bitch

buffy IS one of those stories where i love a character so much i genuinely can’t be trusted to have objective interpretations by frogs-in3-hills

The only way I’ll ever accept a Buffy spin off, revival, reboot whatever by lizzie-queenofmeigas

The more I watch AtS the more I am convinced that Angel secretly just wants to be an actor. by bloomfish

Faith and Buffy are like by spellcasting-jester

Inevitably in the shipping discourse, someone will say, "Buffy doesn't need to end up with anyone!" by elysianholly, summershq

Thinking about how Willow's early forays into witchcraft are explicitly presented as something that she picked up because of Jenny by sunnydalelibrarian

faith flees when she can when there's a looming threat approaching and she freezes when she's truly confronted with something that scares her by btvs3x21

Honestly have got to give it up for the angst potential of pre-series Buffy. by duckwnoeyes

BtVS Stages of Development by fauxindigo

Charles Martin Smith on directing David Boreanaz in Welcome to the Hellmouth by NileQT87

Scoobies birthday by Lloronalina

Were there any character(s) you felt that their personality changed (besides character development)? by Big-Restaurant-2766

Which episode had you hooked? by Technical_Rice2532

"In their last moments, people show you who they really are" by AitheriosMist

Amy was wasted. by SoapNugget2005

Angel/BTVS || I'll Be Good by Angel/BTVS || I'll Be Good

One of the things I love about The Wish… by Thisisnotforyou11

What would have happened if Anya had gotten her necklace back in doppelgangland? by Specialist-Law-3951

5 episodes into Season 7 and it feels so off and… bad. by The_Fullmetal_Titan

It's been, what? 2 days without a OMWF post? by tinypabitch

Is Buffy The Vampire Slayer is a staple in pop culture ? by Cailly_Brard7

And so it begins. by Possible-Poetry3832

Name TV characters inspired by Buffy Summers by Cailly_Brard7

How would you describe Fred Burkle’s personality? by Last_Gain_3706

Explain This! by Pookienini

Who do you think Buffy would be if she were just a normal girl pulled into the slayer’s orbit by FaveStore_Citadel

Spike shouldn't have kept the jacket by eden_tantric

Season 6 Giles by loki2002

Why wasn't Harmony at the Harvest? by Tuxedo_Mark

The Trio is just Willow by LiviaDruzilla

Inspirational Buffy Quotes for Those in Recovery by Traditional-Sort2385

The trouble with I Was Made To Love You by Kirstemis

This website is a life saver for first time viewers by Bobert858668

Buffy’s Dad by Decent_Sky8237

The Scoobies, the Trio and Shadow Selves by Honey_Banana1

I can relate to Buffy so much. by ioncee

Souls by loki2002

Help identifying this art from season 6 by RushWalters

Can only skip one by jengafat

Spike and his Soul by echopsocky

[underleveledjosh]

So. Pretty.

A nice massage...

(Gacha illust. 11/??)

[sevenseasbulletin]

PORT VALE’S SECOND EVENT -

  HAUNTS ON THE HARBOR HALLOWEEN FESTIVAL+ THE MAYORS WEDDING

The annual Haunts on the Harbor festival has always been highly anticipated by the locals, and despite the recent storm and it’s following of disaster, the town is ready to celebrate the spooky season together. Perhaps a good small town party is what they all really need to get back into the swing of things in Port Vale, and it’ll be the last chance to enjoy the fading good weather before the bitter winter sets in. 

Festivities can take place all over town, but it’s centralized mainly to the harbor, and Port Vale never skimps on the decorations. You find some scary fun just about anywhere; a haunted trail through the woods & campsite (made even more eerie by the fallen trees from the storm), a scavenger hunt for the kids to spice up their trick or treating, and plenty of booths with games and vendors lined up and down the harbor. Beyond that, many businesses go all out in their celebrations, offering Halloween specials and treats for the entire day. This year, however, Victoria Wolfgang is trying to get a dated tradition back into the mix; The Mermaid Costume Contest. In her highschool days 25+ years ago, getting crowned the winner was as big of a deal as winning prom queen; but it’s fallen out of style in more recent times. Rumor is, there is a special prize for the winner; but there is great debate on what this could actually be. 

If dressing up isn’t your thing, no worries! You can enjoy live musicians & art, support the local businesses, play some games down at the beach, and socialize while enjoying the free food, booze, and sugar rushes. It is not uncommon for the festival to last long into the wee hours of the night, and this year, everyone is buzzing a little extra. Mayor Xander Blackmore and his newly-introduce bride-to-be Siobhan Waters have scheduled their wedding to take place at 9pm Halloween evening - right in front of the historical mermaid statute in front of the city centre. The whole town is invited, and judging by the gossip coursing the streets, there isn’t a soul in town who would want to miss out on this. The festival activities will continue both before and after the wedding ceremony, and the Haunts on the Harbor itself will be the reception. 

this event will kick off the festive season at port vale! though the festival will only be a single day in-game, our in-game event duration will run from the october 25th-1st november. your threads do not have to be event related, and you can continue non-event threads. take advantage of the fact that the whole town has gathered throughout the day to connect with everyone! stay tuned for a special character development challenge that is related to the event! at the conclusion of our this event, part 2 of the plot drop will release. the tag for this event will be #portvalehalloween! please tag all event-related posts with this tag.

THIS EVENT WILL GO LIVE MONDAY, THE 25TH.

[lamiasluck]

New pinned post yay

This blog’s moving from ego content to original content, so please just don’t come here expecting more of my old writings. Please I beg-

Here are my other blogs: @nervous-bun​ - aesthetic blog that’s so pink you’ll probably hate it

@ghostshavefeelings2​ - blog just for my oc Xander. Can rp there, but atm I reblog aesthetic pics that remind me of him

@thevoice-in-your-head​ - old author/host blog that I might (?) repurpose

And I have a nsfw blog that you can ask for if you’re 18+. I’ll probably post nsfw stories of my ocs gjfkhdsg I have like one already,,

Also I’m accepting art trades (writing for art)! And requests are open if you want that :]

And here are my main ocs! I write them and also rp with them. Here’s my toyhouse if you wanna see them all 

Xander Collins - my beloved boy,,,, he’s a paranormal investigator with a fascination with ghosts. He often buys haunted art pieces to help the spirits trapped inside pass on into the afterlife. An all around Good Boy uwu

Gaius Antoine - my tired and afraid one. He’s a priest in training that was saved from a cult prepared to sacrifice him. Unfortunately, he’s constantly trapped between two extreme groups and struggles to find balance in his life. Deeply afraid of the supernatural but wants to be an exorcist. Let him have a nap please

Leon Hayes - a brat. I might just took a version of Author I’ve written and made him an oc lmao He’s a famous author, but he got that fame because he sold his soul to a demon. He was pissed he wasn’t getting attention and relied on drastic measures. The demon lives inside his body and routinely possesses him to see the world better. Mutualistic relationship

Issac Lam - my himbo guy! A friendly fighter that has a lot of love to give but no braincells. He’s trying his best, and you wouldn’t even know I gave him soooo much emotional baggage gfjdskgf

Vikal Kendri - he’s fucked up and a taunting bastard. Next. I gave him trauma too ehehhehehehe

Noah Dimaano - my bitch boy. Covered in tattoos and piercings. He wants to be stronger and protect his friends. Has really major abandonment issues that make you wanna give him a hug. He will push you away if you try to hug him tho

Mateo and William Ward - lovely brothers. Mateo’s a charming gentle man and William’s a lovely single dad. They both look after William’s daughter, Jackie. All around sweeties. You wouldn’t think that Mateo’s a serial killer-

Robin - Alien. Gamer. He’s a jelly alien that wants to learn more about earth, but got addicted to video games and anime in the process. He’s trying his best

Saru - cute bunny boi. They’re selectively mute and trying to help his family out. Hates asking for help and often tries to do everything themself. Get them a nap too

Hey, you’ve made it this far. Have a nice day and here’s a treat :]

A him