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#Well. happy halloween
maskednerd · 6 months
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rave-lord-nito · 2 years
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Hat
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egophiliac · 6 months
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I got a really tough question.
What’s your favorite Twst event of ALL TIME?
I like Harveston
this truly is the hardest question. :( but after much consideration, I think Endless Halloween Night wins out for me, because it's nonstop Characters Being Silly the whole way through. the whole thing is just lots of these little dorks having the most ridiculous interactions, which is always my favorite! and of course the big twist is SO delightfully stupid and doubles down SO hard that it becomes AMAZING and I 100% unironically adore it. AND it's Halloween! everyone is in their cute little costumes and having a spooky adventure! it's great!
however, I am ALSO a big fan of the Harveston event! how can I not be! everyone is wearing comfy winter outfits and getting along really weirdly well with Epel's grandma and he's getting a little worried about that! my terrible loud son sews a plush squirrel and then gives it a silly little nickname and refuses to leave it behind when it breaks! the ending shot with the sled! I LOVE IT.
obviously we need the best of both worlds now
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lilybug-02 · 5 months
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Bribed with Chocolate. The way it should be.
Part 22 || First || Previous || Next
--Full Series--
More to come as this is a two-parter. But you know how I am with schedules.
Bonus:
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I think this was an equally possible reaction from Chara.
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yourdoll--yours · 6 months
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NGL I get the hype of being fucked by a ghost, you can only feel and sit there and take it and people around you could only see your clothes getting taken away and your pussy stretching around absolutely nothing while you moan like a fucking slut.
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starrythroat · 6 months
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Day 4: Bloodletting Beast!
Halloween celebrates @/buriedknight 's hunter on hunters oc named Tiernan!!
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kokodrawings · 6 months
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And we are done: artober day 31! 🥳🥳
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melbemol-art · 6 months
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Bad girl woke up and chose ✨Violence ✨
Happy Halloween everyone! 🎃🦇❤️
⚠️DO NOT REPOST⚠️
Wallpaper pack
Print
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traits and stories of the welsh peasantry (1849) - anne beale
"all hallows' een"
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gotchibam · 6 months
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Commissioned piece for Jaybug!
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cinimuffin · 1 year
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a merry Between Week to everyone! rest well!
extra layers:
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obsob · 1 year
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cat parade
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ribbononline · 6 months
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And some halloweeny fusions, heres mimikyu/gardevoir, mismagius/altaria and flutter mane/salazzle !!
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helmip · 6 months
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✧˖°🌑 eclipse 🌕°˖✧
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anonymous-dentist · 6 months
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1946
There are plenty of legends surrounding Count Dracula. They say that he bathes in the blood of virgins. He has knives for hands and his fangs are sharp enough to cut the very air itself. He can turn into a bat. He can turn into a mist. He’s over one thousand years old, but he doesn’t look a day over fifty.
This, of course, is all bullshit. Count Dracula isn’t real, and Cellbit isn’t even one hundred yet, and he certainly doesn’t look fifty years old. He has a shower and electricity and a radio. He even has an automobile, not that he uses it for anything but trips to town to beg the werewolves to please stop leaving dead rabbits on his front porch.
Still. Maybe living in the crumbling remains of a long-abandoned castle on a hill surrounded by dead trees and graveyards full of empty tombstones and half-disturbed graves gives a bit of an impression. And maybe Cellbit was a bit dramatic when he was first turned, but who wouldn’t be when faced with immortality for the first time?
Quesadilla Island is no stranger to the supernatural. There are the werewolves in town, there are the demons scattered across the island. There’s the talking skeleton that cries if you look at him weirdly. And then there’s Cellbit, “Count Dracula”, the island’s only living vampire.
Quesadilla Island is no stranger to the supernatural. Vampires are a danger to society, and so it’s up to vampire hunters like those from the Federation to make sure the vampires stay under control and away from the more fragile citizens.
And that’s fine, really. Cellbit hates people, anyway. He likes how they taste, but the artificial blood that Mouse magicks up for him once a week is a good substitute.
He likes his castle, and he likes his alone time, and he likes spending said alone time in the secret room in his basement trying to figure out ways to absolutely slaughter the shit out of every Federation hunter on the island so he can live in peace.
Tonight is one such night. The werewolves are all transformed with the full moon, and Richarlyson is with Felps in the Square for the night, so Cellbit is, thankfully, alone. He can polish his knives in peace.
And then he hears a knock at the door for the first time in half a century.
“Hola?” he hears. “Dracula?”
Cellbit perks up despite his best attempts to play at being annoyed. He knows this voice, it belongs to one of the non-supernatural townsfolk. The cute one he’s only spoken to once, and the one he probably shouldn’t speak to again if his drunken memories are anything to live by.
The vampire hunter.
Cellbit immediately rushes upstairs and pauses in the foyer to fix his hair in a mirror. Unfortunately, he can’t see his reflection. Fuck.
He opens the door, anyway, and he tries not to be too obvious with his smile as he leans against the doorframe just oh so casually.
“Hello!” he cheerfully says. “Good evening!”
He immediately internally smacks himself as the hunter raises both eyebrows. Too obvious.
Cellbit clears his throat and repeats in a much calmer voice, “I mean. Hello. Good evening. I was not expecting you.”
The hunter looks him over, and it occurs to Cellbit that this is the first time that they’ve ever spoken. Ever. Of course, he already knew this, but-
The hunter smiles and makes eye contact. “Can I come in?”
“Uh. Sure?”
The hunter winks, and then he ducks under Cellbit’s arm and enters the castle as Cellbit stands there, frozen. What.
“Nice place.” The hunter whistles. “Is it just you?”
Cellbit stares at him, watching as the hunter flops onto the foyer’s most grandiose sofa and kick his muddy feet up onto the seat. The door closes, but neither pays it any mind.
“Ah,” says Cellbit. “Sometimes. Can I help you?”
The hunter shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
He gives Cellbit another once-over, eyes lingering on Cellbit’s neck and chest- uncovered, for once, because his shirt has been left with the top buttons undone, for once, because he was alone just a few minutes ago.
If Cellbit was capable of blushing, he would be doing so. Instead, he buttons his shirt back up and coughs into his fist.
That seems to jolt the hunter back into action because he hops off the sofa as quickly as he had fallen onto it and he smooths down his long red coat and he says, “I want to… ugh, how do I say this?”
He paces a little, hand running through his hair, and then he throws his head back and just kinda blurts it out: “I want to kill Cucurucho.”
He looks at Cellbit, frozen yet again. “Can you help me with that?”
Cucurucho is evil incarnate. It’s also the current head of the vampire hunters of the island, complete with its own personal armory of bullshit tools meant to make Cellbit’s life a living hell: stakes, holy water, blessed weapons. It even has a dagger in the shape of a crucifix, what the fuck?
Cellbit wants it dead. He wants to suck the life out of its unholy abomination of a body and he wants to burn its corpse in the sunlight it holds so dearly. He’s got a thousand potential murders in mind for it, but that’s gotta come off a little strong, right?
So Cellbit shrugs very casually. “Maybe. Why?”
That’s the million-dollar question: why would one of Cucurucho’s own loyal hunters want it dead?
The hunter looks down at the ground briefly before looking back up at Cellbit with absolute nothing in his eyes.
“My son is dead,” he says, very, very calmly. “And so Cucurucho needs to be dead, too. That’s all.”
This is the look of a man already dead.
“Okay,” Cellbit says. He nods, because he, too, is a father. Somehow.
The hunter blinks slowly. “Just like that?”
“What, did you want me to interrogate you some more?”
“I dunno. Aren’t you supposed to hypnotize me or something?”
Cellbit raises an eyebrow. “Do you want me to hypnotize you?”
(He can’t, but the hunters don’t need to know that.)
“I mean… maybe? I don’t know how this works, man!” The hunter throws his arms up and collapses back onto the couch in an annoyed huff. “Maybe you’re just going to eat me, who knows?”
Cellbit delicately takes a seat on the closest chair… which so happens to be the one nearest the hunter’s sofa. What a coincidence.
“You know that I don’t eat people,” he scoffs. Not anymore, anyway…
“I mean, sure, but you’re Count Dracula! You’re weird!”
Cellbit blinks. That’s one way to describe him.
“I’m not Dracula,” he says. “You people do know that, right? Like, you do know that he’s copyrighted material. I couldn’t be him if I wanted to.”
The hunter looks at him incredulously. “No mames, who the fuck are you, then?”
What, so they actually don’t know? What?
“Uh,” says Cellbit, a little caught up in how fucking stupid his tormentors really seem to be. “Cellbit?”
The hunter’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit, I knew I recognized you from somewhere!”
Uh-oh…
Cellbit’s glad that he can’t blush, because he’s got a bad feeling coming on based off of the way the hunter actively scoots down the sofa and towards him, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt.
“I was really drunk, but-” the hunter says. “But! I remembered your name!”
Cellbit swallows a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember yours.”
“That’s fine, you will.”
And that isn’t intimidating at all.
“Because you are the vampire who turned me!”
The hunter pulls back the side of his unbuttoned shirt to show some very sculpted muscles… and two little pinpricks right on his collar still scarring over even three weeks after the fact.
Cellbit’s mouth goes dry. Because maybe he got a little drunk at Forever’s Halloween party three weeks ago, and maybe he hooked up with the most beautiful man on Quesadilla Island for the night. The night is a fuzzy mess at best, and he certainly doesn’t remember turning anyone, but he does remember:
“Roier,” he weakly says. “I am so sorry.”
The hunter- Roier’s- smile is blinding. “Don’t be. Because now there are two vampires on the island, yes? And Cucurucho can’t kill both of us.”
…To Be Continued?
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