#Haunt writing

[lighthaunting]

DoA Imagines (GN!Reader) | Love Languages and Dates

CHARACTERS - Fyodor, Nikolai/Mykola, Sigma

A/N: yes this is definitely out of character but i love writing fluff and the most ungodly sappy romance imaginable, your honor. got me giggling and kicking my legs and shit

Fyodor

Likes words of affirmation and giving gifts.

Not the greatest at outwardly speaking of his feelings, at least not as much as he’d like to.

If he needs to leave early in the morning before you’ve woken up, don’t be surprised if you wake up to the most eloquently written and poetic love letter you’ve ever seen in your life.

Not the greatest talker, more of a listener, but when he writes to you, he writes.

Because he’s a good listener (not to mention his brilliant memory), he’s good at giving gifts.

If you offhandedly mention a nice ring, piece of clothing, etc? He is committing that to memory for future gift giving.

Prefers receiving more practical gifts; likes things he can use in his everyday life rather than luxury objects.

Generally prefers staying in for dates, or at least quiet, peaceful places if you do both decide to go out.

Picnics under a tree in a field in the middle of nowhere, nothing more than some wine, a charcuterie board and casual conversation to pass the time, maybe a book or two.

Not much of a touchy-feely type, prefers more subtle things, might link his pinky with yours while he reads or does a bit of paperwork.

Isn’t the greatest at initiating touch, but likes to give forehead kisses, likes the simplicity of it.

Gets noticeably more clingy in the winter, even he notices it, but he pretends he doesn’t. He gets cold easily, and your hands are probably warmer than his.

If you don’t know how to play the cello already, he’d gladly teach you about it. He makes a wonderful tutor and he’s very patient when teaching you, and he certainly won’t object to holding your hands to guide you on how to move the cello bow.

(Okay this one’s just a joke but I bet he goes to sleep with a night gown and a little night cap on his head. bet he goes snore mimimimi when he sleeps)

Nikolai (Mykola)

Likes words of affirmation and physical touch.

Expect consistent compliments, he has no shame and won’t hesitate to gush about you, whether it’s just to you or anyone else who will listen.

If you’re the one complimenting him, he may get just a tad bashful. He’s not shy by any means, but you may notice he’ll avert eye contact with a huge grin on his face.

Loves referring to you with terms of endearment, but in public he will purposely give you the most ungodly and obnoxious petnames imaginable just because he thinks it’s hilarious, especially if you get embarrassed over it.

Definitely wants to test how many times he can refer to you as ‘snookums’ in a public setting before you start swatting at him.

Loves holding hands and being close to you in general.

Likes having his hair messed with or being helped with his braid, will fall dead asleep on your lap within a few minutes if you’re not careful.

Likes going on dates in more lively places, especially if it’s somewhere he can properly explore.

Naturally pretty energetic, so expect to go to an amusement park or arcade at least once.

You bet he wants a cliche ferris wheel kiss (so long as you’re not afraid of heights, of course).

Once halloween rolls around you’re definitely getting taken to a haunted house with him (he’ll do a remarkable job at keeping you from being scared in the event you are, would 100% find ways to make you laugh throughout it).

Escape room dates !! He’d have so much fun with you, and he’s absolutely going to make sure you feel the same way.

Good luck trying to get out of bed at a reasonable time from now on, he will wrap around you like a koala to try and keep you there longer. Complains very audibly from across the room if you do manage to escape his grasp.

Sigma

Unlike the other two, probably has more of a random mix of love languages, doesn’t usually stick to or prefer receiving just one kind.

Ultimately, he just likes you and spending whatever time with you he can.

Scarily observational, will pick up on your every mood and does his best to help you when you’re having a bad day.

Definitely the type to pick up on the fact you texted him slightly differently that day and gets you something from your favorite restaurant on his way back from the casino to try and cheer you up.

Loves cooking and baking with you, and he’s pretty great at it, too.

Cookie baking dates over cups of tea on a rainy day.

Adores trying new hobbies in general, especially if it’s with you. Tries to start up a little vegetable garden, or maybe even something like painting or pottery.

Absolutely lives for the super cheesy romance movie type dates. If the weather is nice, he likes to explore the outdoors and seeing what the world has to offer, so long as you’re by his side.

Driving two hours into the middle of nowhere to go stargazing with a clear view, exploring a flower meadow, finding the best spot to watch a sunset, etc.

Not very used to receiving gifts due to his situation with the book and DoA, so he’s very flattered (and maybe just a bit bashful) at any gifts you give him.

A bit hesitant to initiate physical affection at the beginning of the relationship, but as he gets more relaxed he likes being close to you. Will gladly give you a tour around the casino with your arm linked with his or his arm around your waist, if you’d like.

Very good at formal dancing. Romantic slow dancing in the middle of the night, moonlight shining down from the grand windows of his office in the casino.

[academic-vampire]

𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔡𝔶 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔩𝔦𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔯𝔶 🪶

[the-ellia-west]

HOW TO WRITE ROMANTIC ATTRACTION FOR DUMMIES

For anyone who wants to learn, (especially aro/ACE, aspec, ect.)

Requested by the lovely @darkandstormydolls

Alrighty! Welcome back or welcome to my blog! I'm dipping my toes back into the category of posts that gained me my exposure!

So if you're here, you want to know how to write romantic attraction/romance!

Strap in and let's begin!

(Pls spread this to people you think would benefit from seeing it, or anyone who requested it bc I forgot, ANY ASPECS)

Step one -

Your characters must admire one another at the beginning, Romantic feelings usually do not present themselves as obvious until you really think them through, meaning your characters may not notice they have a crush until it's too late

These are general statistics and light stereotypes. So feel free to not use this tip:

Male characters usually tend to notice physical things first, like body shape, hair, skin, clothing, the way their lover moves, ect

And Female Characters Generally tend to notice more small things and personality-based traits first, like their lover's humor, speaking mannerisms, shifts in expression, ways they fidget, emotion in their voice, ect.

And someone who is in love will generally show more interest in this particular person's movements, actions, words, and anything in general.

Step 2 -

The character will show more interest in sharing their love language with their lover/crush

Physical touch - People with physical touch love languages may want to hold hands, cuddle, hug, or just lean on their crush whenever they are close to them moreso than they want to with others

Gift giving - Gift givers will want to get more gifts more often for their crush, probably thinking of them whenever they see little trinkets or wanting to get them big gifts for special occasions or signs of appreciation

Acts of Service - Acts of service people will offer to do extra favors and a bunch of extra stuff they don't have to do twice as much as normal

Words of Affirmation - Flattery, they will generally flood their crush with kind words and compliments

Quality time - Quality time people will want to spend time with their crush at almost every turn, and when they want company, will turn to their crush first

Step 3 -

After a while, these urges while become very prominent and more noticeable to the person having them

They may find themselves fantasizing about their crush or having them show up in their thoughts more and more, feeling nicer and happier when they're around, or when they're thinking about them

Smiling when they think about them, cutsey little fluff thingies like that

A crush is essentially: I want to date that, I want to be near that always, I want to marry that, I want that to snuggle me (or other love languages)

Or in simpler terms: if that asked me out, I would say yes (or at least want to say yes if your character is in denial)

Step 4 -

The character's urges to be close to this person grows strong enough that they do smth about it, whether prompted by another character. Or they just don't know I how to not anymore (like when you wanna eat candy and you don't want to, but you do anyway bc I JUST NEED THE CHOCOLATE OKAY?)

(Or for Aro/Ace, garlic bread)

People who are in love are generally very prone to be all dreamy and poetic and VERY EXTREMELY BIASED towards their crush

Then Yada Yada they kiss & shit

You're welcome, BYEEEEEEEE 👋

Happy writing!

Love you! Thanks for reading, And Ghost Tumblr Mother says go drink some water and have a snack, you've earned it, and you are beautiful <333

Have a good day! :]

@blue-kyber @thisisntrocket @cosmolumine @i-do-anything-but-write @paeliae-occasionally

@supercimi @the-letterbox-archives @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @artsandstoriesandstuff

@corinneglass @wyked-ao3 @urnumber1star

[velvetwyrme]

aHhh okay so the discussions of Titan!Megatron on @callsign-relic's blog have fully. FULLY taken over my brain and ive been drawing stuff for it for like the last few days nonstop

the tl;dr of this is AU is pretty much "what if Megatron got turned into a titan/cityformer as a form of penance/imprisonment and now roams the empty wasteland of Cybertron forever" plus "IDW Megatron has really fucked up internals so... what if that, but as a City?"

and of course since he's a Titan, that also means he has a cityspeaker... or three. One per sub-AU thing. Theres 3 options. 3 flavours of AU.

i have so much art to make. but in the meantime, for more info! check out the #titan au tag on Relic's blog :]!! (also uhh potential ns//fw warning for the link shfjbdkd)

Hi. My battery is running out once again so design and art notes get chucked here instead of an image.

The cuffs and collar are hardwired into Megatron, so I made the lights the same colour as his biolights!

I imagine that on the tops of his shoulders there are solar panels, even if you can't see them here lol.

I really wanted to keep the swirly bits on Megatron's chest from IDW

Other art notes:

The second picture with the seekers is (loosely) inspired by a discussion about whether or not Megatron gets visitors or not. I thought about who would visit him and well... I think this is as close as Starscream realistically gets to visiting him.

Extra detail about that piece is that Thundercracker and Skywarp are keeping watch from above! Also drawing Megatron took me like 8 hours because I was struggling with his legs really badly kshffkbfkdsbdk,, the background went much faster, funnily enough.

Optimus specifically isn't wearing his Autobot badge any more.

This isn't relevant in this series of images, but Ultra Magnus's eye markings are only on the Magnus armour. His other two forms do not have them :] (... until he begins to discard the armour, that is.)

Megatron is roughly 3200m/2 miles tall. Technically he could have clouds around his knees, but I thought this looked a little bit cooler lol.

Also, height chart! Him big. I didn't even attempt to put a human for scale because that'd be. near impossible with this scale.

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[desos-records]

suddenly struck with thoughts about the devastating concept of Jason Todd

because he was good. because he had a bleeding heart despite every reason not to. he loved school and was good at it. he was the first to be adopted, with little pretense of guardianship. he did everything he could to be a perfect Robin and live up to an impossible ideal. he only ever wanted Bruce and Dick to like him.

because he met Bruce in the same place and on the same day that Bruce's parents died--the single defining moment of Batman's existence. and he made Batman laugh. he hit the Dark Knight, Terror of Gotham, with a tire iron. he wasn't afraid of the man who turned fear into a weapon.

because he couldn't save his mother from herself, but he tried. because he was too good not to try and save the woman who gave him up. too good to play the Joker's game. the crowbar didn't kill him, the bomb did. he died knowing he wouldn't make it and tried anyway. he died a hero.

because other Robins have died, but none of them put an irrevocable tear in the mythos of Batman. because Jason Todd always dies, in every universe. he dies for the sins of his father. he was put to death by popular vote, sacrificed by the crowd. doomed by the narrative and doomed by the audience. the boy who only ever tried to prove he was good enough--wasn't good enough.

because he has every reason to be angry. because he didn't ask to be murdered, didn't ask to be brought back, and when he did everyone acted like he was better off dead. Bruce tried to kill him and nearly succeeded. he's blamed for his own death and blamed for his resurrection. he can never come home because the house is haunted by his own ghost.

because he's been the hero, the victim, and the villain. because his family and his writers and his universe don't know what to make of him. they don't know how to look his tragedy in the eye. and how can you?

it hurts to look at the hero who cannot be good enough, the victim who will only ever be angry, the villain who can sometimes be right. the audience hates to feel complicit and, in this exceptional case, they are.

[nostis-omnia-perdet-omnia]

Fun phrases you can use to the detriment of everyone around you:

"This vexes me." Use this in response to anything negative said about you. The more you use it, the better. "That haircut isn't working, man." "This vexes me." "...What?"

"I'd press L2 at the precise time, parrying the [X]." Use this in response to any hypothetical. "What would you do if your best friend flirted with you?" "I'd press L2 at the precise time, parrying his flirt." "W- What the fuck are you talking about?"

"This is so sad, can we get 50 likes?" Use this in response to any complaints. Much funnier if you use it in realspace. "Me and my girl had a fight. No idea how I'm gonna make it up to her." "This is so sad, can we get 50 likes?" "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"It's because of the Ritual." Use this in response to any question regarding the cause of something. Never explain what "the Ritual" is. If anyone asks, say "Don't worry about it!" And smile. "Ugh, why can't anyone here be good at their jobs!?" "It's because of the Ritual." "...What's the Ritual?" "Don't worry about it! =)"

"That's what they want you to think!" Use this in response to anyone stating any facts. "I just landed a new gig." "That's what they want you to think!" "What? Who's 'they'?" "..." "What the fuck?"

PS: Don't do this to anyone who isn't, like, a close friend you're comfortable fucking with. You will get ousted if you do.

[cracklewink]

Harmony Syndrome Part 5/5

The last chapter of my mlp infection AU! Thank you to everyone who followed along. Some final thoughts on my twitter @cracklewink if anyone's interested : )

[disastersareajoy]

Pussy Drunk Thomas Hewitt - Drabble

Thomas Hewitt x FEM!Reader

Tags: established relationship, cunnilingus, forced orgasms, talk of bruises, wet and messy, squirting, dacryphilia, overstimulation

Word count: 1.1k

fucking obsessed with the idea of Thomas getting absolutely, down bad, pussy-drunk as soon as he gets a taste

like his virgin-ass being too afraid of hurting you to fuck you at first and getting on his knees for you. he gets a taste, kind of pulls back and licks his lips and you can see his pupils dilate and his eyes fucking glaze over and he just falls face first into your pussy

sloppy, wet, spit slick, hungry oral from that man. his teeth bump into you in all the right ways sometimes. one moment he's whimpering into you and the next he's grumbling and trying to get his tongue deeper and deeper into you to taste more

and it does not matter to him when you beg for him to slow down and how you can't cum anymore. because you keep dripping on his face and tongue and making wonderful noises and you just taste so fucking good, how could he stop??

his arms wrap around your thighs and he holds onto them hard and firm and keeps you pulled close to his face. you can feel that it's gonna bruise and you're going to cherish those bruises for days

he doesn't even notice how hard he's gripping you because he's trying to get all of his senses filled with you. he tastes, smells and feels nothing but you. the only thing his ears can focus on are your moans and whimpers. his hands massage your thighs periodically and when he opens his eyes it's just to look at your face, thrown back in pleasure. the only thing better is when you're looking down at him with tears in your eyes, still moaning for him

Tommy is completely drunk off your taste. he loves the feeling of your pussy on his tongue and he loves the little whining groan you let out when he sucks on your clit

now, when he keeps going and going and your hand in his hair trying to push him away finally falls to your side, he doesn't even realize what he's doing next. it's all out of instinct when his hands readjust so his arms stay wrapped around your thighs but his thumbs are spreading open your folds. that's when he really loses it

because he can get his tongue even deeper like that. he can bury it inside you and find the spot that makes you drip a little more and that makes you moan all broken and needy. once he finds it he abuses the fuck out of it. keeps licking over it, poking at it with his tongue and savoring every drop of you that spills into his mouth

and then. his holy grail. you grab his hair again and moan louder. you're sobbing and begging him to slow down because it feels different this time. he doesn't listen of course. all he knows is you're about to do that thing again where he can feel your pussy flutter and twitch and your thighs squeeze around him and your moans get all whimpery

he keeps going until your hips lift up into him. he stays attached to your pussy and keeps doing what he's doing, knowing he can't stop. needs to keep going to get you to do that thing

suddenly you gasp and go completely quiet. then you moan so loud it's almost a scream. a sobbing sort of thing that's absolutely gorgeous to him. on top of that your hips start wildly shaking along with your legs and your pleasure starts gushing out of you

Tommy moans into your juices and gets closer if that's even possible at that point. he shakes his head so he rubs over your clit side to side while he keeps his tongue abusing that spot inside you. and fuck does he get drenched. he swallows down as much as he can of you and whimpers into it. anything he can't get, drips down his face and drenches his shirt and lap

once you come down you realize he's still going and you can't handle it anymore. you start crying more and weakly kicking your legs out which finally makes Tommy look up. he sees your devastated face and while he thinks the sweat mixed with tears and drool, as well as the tortured pleasure in your eyes is a heavenly sight, he listens to your weak pleas

he finally pulls away and you sigh in relief. Tommy stays away from your pussy (as much as he hates it) and spends his time licking your thighs clean. just a minute away from your pussy makes him whimper and look up at you pleadingly. your legs are still shaking and you shake your head at him

so Tommy whines and starts biting your thighs instead, getting closer and closer to your pussy until he's mouthing right next to it. you're shaking and sweating and still losing a coupe tears when he licks flat over your clit once. then your back arches and you gasp, trying not to make too loud a noise

you know if you moan he's gonna start again and you think he might actually kill you that time. he softly licks over your clit again, wraps his lips around it and you slap a hand over your mouth. but Tommy sees your lack of noise as a sign to keep going and starts sucking on your clit. when his teeth graze over it your hand whips away from your mouth to his hair and you yell out a moan that ends with a broken whine

immediately you know you're in for it. Tommy moans happily and grabs your thighs hard once more. he dives into you again and gets back to his sloppy, needy and enthusiastic pace without hesitation. all you can do is moan, whimper and whine as Tommy makes you see stars over and over again

he's obsessed with making you squirt on his face and listening to your whimpers as he tastes you. he loves the feeling of your heartbeat in your clit, pounding against his tongue

sometimes you can't get him off of your pussy until he's had at least a couple hours of his way with you. he's obsessed with your pussy and a single taste makes him entirely lose his mind. he'd do anything to fall to his knees in front of you

he would spend forever between your thighs if it was up to him

your pussy is his paradise and his salvation. every gush of your juices is a baptism of wonder. you are his goddess and he worships you at every turn

[nine-aetharia]

i need swifties to shut the fuck up about 'oh so kendrick's disses can be analyzed for hidden meanings but we can't do the same for taylor songs' yeah bc that's not isolated to kendrick. subliminals and entendres abound in rap. taylor swift songs are as deep as a puddle while youre wearing flip flops and your feet still arent wet

[lighthaunting]

Lay Wolfsbane in my Palm [Demon!DoA x GN!Reader] [Ch. 1]

Ao3 Version

Words: 3629

A/N: This is a tad rushed but I’ll do my best to better flesh out future chapters! Some characters (mainly Nikolai and Fyodor) may be tamed down a bit and appear more ooc because I don’t want to write a relationship that comes across as toxic or yandere. This also starts out pretty sarcastic and lighthearted but it’ll get more dramatic when i get it rolling

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, brief injury at the end.

Maintaining a four-year-long friendship with a man like Osamu Dazai was, admittedly, an impressive feat for anybody. The man was eccentric, sometimes a little unpredictable, but he had good intentions at heart most of the time, even though he’d shown it in strange ways.

While Dazai hadn’t necessarily been your roommate, ever since the two of you began college, he felt like one. Coincidentally, the brunette had ended up being your apartment complex neighbor (you had a sneaking suspicion he moved in next to you on purpose, but he denied it every time) along with his own roommate, Chuuya Nakahara, a hot-headed man who you grew to call a friend as well.

Long-lasting friendship aside, if he threw one more paper airplane at you while you were trying to study for finals, your partnership would be ending with a homicide case. You were sincerely beginning to regret giving the man a copy of your apartment keys, considering Dazai took it as permission to break into your apartment at the most inconvenient times. Almost as if feeling your glare as another piece of folded paper lands in your lap, Dazai looks up from the next crudely folded plane he was making.

“What’s up?” Dazai asks casually, leaning back in the wooden chair he invited himself to, the old thrifted one that you were just slightly hoping would break underneath him.

“I’m trying to study, asshole,” you frown, tossing the piece of paper back his way.

“Sure,” Dazai retorts, unconvinced, “I just watched you stare blankly at your textbook for like … five minutes straight. You should take a break, it just so happens that a certain someone invited us and the others out to dinner tonight.”

“Ranpo?”

“Ranpo,” confirms Dazai, grinning at the mention of your old college friend who was lucky enough to have already graduated college with a fully-fledged degree in criminal justice. Seeing your wary look, the brunette slaps his palms together in mock prayer. “Please? I don’t want to go alone, wouldn’t want me driving, would you?”

You cringe at the thought, thinking back on the last ‘relaxing midnight drive’ you entrusted him with. “Take Chuuya, then,” you reply, raising an eyebrow as he swipes your textbook and slams it shut, an obvious sign he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

“He’s at Kouyou’s place, probably wasted by now,” Dazai frowns.

Before you can decline again, a rumble of hunger in your stomach makes itself known, a reminder that you’ve been studying a bit too long for your sanity, upcoming exams or not. Besides, if you had to stare at a diagram any longer, you’d end up going into a coma. “Fine, but I need to study more afterwards, so I don’t want to stay long and have to drag your drunk ass home.”

Dazai gives a little cheer as he hops out of his seat before smacking you on the shoulder in an attempted reassuring manner. “Calm down, you’re gonna do fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” you laugh. “I’ve already slacked off enough, I’m going to need to make a deal with the devil to pass these finals. You think selling my soul would work?”

Dazai hums thoughtfully. “Nah, yours is probably too dark and tainted, no one would want it,” he replies, only snickering childishly as you elbow him in the ribs.

“You don’t even have one, stupid,” you retort, unable to hide the amused grin on your face as you grab your keys off of the kitchen counter.

By the time the two of you end up at Ranpo’s designated spot, he’s already waiting at a table with one of your older friends, Yosano, along with Atsushi and the ever-punctual Kunikida.

Ranpo perks up from his seat as the two of you approach. “Hiya,” he greets before stuffing a piece of complimentary bread and butter into his mouth.

“Hey,” Dazai replies, plopping into a seat beside Kunikida.

You move to sit between him and Yosano. “No Poe today?”

Ranpo shrugs at the mention of his boyfriend. “He wanted to stay behind to work for a bit, tried dragging him here though.”

“He probably wanted peace and quiet for once,” Yosano teases, hiding a laugh behind her hand as Ranpo turns to give her a look.

“Shut up, he doesn’t mind me!” Ranpo retorts with an exaggerated offended look.

“Maybe he doesn’t—”

“Yosano! Why are you so evil today—”

Atsushi turns to look at you, tuning out Ranpo’s whining to call your name. “What are finals for you like this year?”

“My English final is first, so that’s what I’m focusing on for now. Won’t be too bad, hopefully,” you mumble before going to grab a piece of bread from the table center.

“We could study together if you’d like?” He asks, leaning forwards in his seat.

“Oh, sure, sounds good! Just let me know when you’re free.”

“What?! Making plans without me? So cruel,” your neighbor interrupts, a drink in hand that he probably got from the bar; you don’t know how he managed to slip away that easily. Dazai drapes himself over the table dramatically, and you roll your eyes as he continues whining about something you knew he couldn’t care less about. Swiping the drink from him, you ignore the gasp he lets out as you take a swig of it, wincing at the burning liquor. Seeing the stern look you give him, he raises his hands defensively. “What? I can have one.”

“One my ass,” you frown, pointedly taking another aggressive swig of his drink. You feel a stab of pride as he mumbles under his breath, but makes no move to snatch it back, resigning himself to his fate. You turn to Yosano, nudging her with your elbow. “Do I dare ask about your finals?”

Yosano winces at the reminder. “I don’t even want to think about it,” she laughs, taking a sip of her cocktail. Despite being a few years older than you, she was in the midst of med school, which was surely a nightmare given the dark marks under her eyes.

Ranpo abruptly pauses from his conversation with Kunikida to antagonize her. “Sucks to be you, I don’t need to worry about finals anymore,” he brags, jabbing a thumb towards himself with a grin.

“You get to pay back loans, now,” Kunikida retorts, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck.”

“Hey, Kunikida,” Dazai calls, glaring at you as you move the glass he was trying to take out of his reach. “How do finals work for you? Do they just throw you in a room full of kids and have you teach them stuff?”

“I wish,” Kunikida replies, adjusting the glasses on his face, “would be a hell of a lot easier. It’s basically just making sure I know what I’m teaching.”

“Oh yeah,” Atsushi spoke up again, shifting your attention from the drink you swiped from Dazai (that he had yet to successfully reclaim). “Have you ended up getting a new roommate yet?”

Slouching in your seat, you slide Dazai’s drink back over to him. “Nah, not really getting any offers.” Your prior roommate, as sweet as she was, ended up moving back in with her family last month. Save for whenever Dazai practically kicked down your door, the time alone had definitely been refreshing, not that the same could be said for your bank account. You should probably call her later to catch up on things.

“You know, I’m pretty sure Kajii’s looking for a place.”

“Dazai, no.”

“Yeah, I guess I would have to deal with the noise. Pipsqueak is loud enough already,” Dazai snickers at the childish nickname for his roommate.

Atsushi has an exasperated look on his face. “Truth be told, I don’t know how Chuuya has the energy to keep up with you sometimes, Dazai.” You can’t help but nod along with the younger man. As much as you cared for him, Dazai was quite talented at getting under people's skin when he wanted to. One of his many charms, you suppose.

Dazai, rather than thinking over the remark, just sits there quietly with a proud look on his face, as if he’d planned this all along.

The topic shifts elsewhere—more towards random life updates, instead of mulling over grades and finals—laughs are shared with the rest of the group, and time passes a touch too fast for your liking.

By the time you arrive back at the apartment complex, you feel too drained to even think about continuing to study. You practically have to drag Dazai from your car and into the apartment complex, buzzed with alcohol and half asleep from the aftermath. He mumbles complaints about not feeling like walking a few times, but you ignore him and pull him along anyways

Nudging your friend's apartment door open while he slouched over you, you’re met with a dim hallway, barely lit by the television of his shared living room. Leading the tipsy man into the kitchen, you haphazardly drop a dinner in a styrofoam box onto the counter. Dazai claimed earlier that he wanted to get a meal to go for tomorrow, but something told you it was for a particular roommate (Chuuya mentioned it being one of his favorite restaurants, if you remembered right).

The man in question walks into the room, no doubt hearing the commotion of you comically fighting to unlock the door. He opens his mouth to greet you before noting Dazai’s rather sorry state. He sighs, eyebrows furrowing in what looked like worry.

“Chuuya!” Dazai greets with a slight slur to his voice before staggering over to the other. An overly peppy drunk Dazai was better than a depressed drunk Dazai, you suppose.

“Again? Stop coming home wasted, asshole,” Chuuya scolds, excusing himself to get the taller man to bed. He returns after a few minutes, sighing and rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks for bringing him here.”

You wave him off. “It’s no big deal, not like your place is far. Ah—” you hesitate, not entirely sure how to word your sentence without overstepping, “is it just me, or has he been drinking more lately?”

“Not just you,” Chuuya leans against the kitchen counter, a tired look on his face. “Not like he’ll talk about it anytime soon.” Seeing your concerned look, he reaches over to grab your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, I’ll keep a better eye on him, see if I can convince him to see a therapist or something.”

“Thanks, Chuuya,” you smile before being cut off by a yawn, “I should get going, I feel like I need to sleep for a good twelve hours or so.”

He snorts in amusement. “Yeah, I feel you. Have a good night, see you around.”

“You too.”

Exiting the apartment of the duo, the next few minutes of entering your own apartment pass by in a blur, and before you know it, you’re in a dreamless sleep, the textbook on your kitchen table long forgotten.

A week passes in a monotonous blur, and your own personal doomsday of finals is closer than ever. The cheap coffee maker on your counter sounds a bit like it's screaming as it spits the hot beverage out, and you’re surprised it’s even still running.

As promised, Atsushi would be swinging by later on to study. He was a little younger than you, still a freshman, who wanted to go into social work eventually. He wanted to help people where he could, that much was obvious. He was a little awkward and hesitant when you first met him at the beginning of the year, but he’d come a long way already.

The front door unlocks with a click and swings open—narrowly missing slamming into the wall—and interrupts your thought process, followed by a dramatic bellowing of your full name.

“Hi, Dazai.” A metal spoon clinks gently against the mug of your coffee as you stir cream into it.

“I’ve come to bring you a humble gift to aid you in your finals.”

“Uh oh.”

Dazai snickers and it sounds almost diabolical, waltzing into your kitchen like he owned the place and dropping a thick book onto the counter, sliding it your way. It looks aged, dark leather cover creased from use and beginning to peel away at the corners. It smells a bit musty as you place your mug onto the counter and bring it closer, squinting at the barely legible faded letters printed across the front—

“Is this a fucking book about occultism?”

Dazai leans against your counter, batting his eyelashes in mock innocence. “Maybe.”

You snort under your breath, flipping through the book and desperately trying to hold back a sneeze when it coughs a plume of dust up at you, no doubt from sitting on a shelf. “When you said you had something to ‘aid me in my finals’, this isn’t what I anticipated, you know—“ you squint further. “Damn, it has Latin quotes and everything.”

“Well,” he says, dragging the word out, “you did say you’d need to make a deal with the devil to pass finals, and I just so happened to stumble upon an occult shop the other day…”

“This definitely feels on purpose.”

“From me? Never,” he sneers, swiping your coffee from the counter to take a swig, nose wrinkling at the bridge in disapproval. “Bleh.”

“I don’t know what you expected. You know how I make my coffee by now,” you mumble into the faded pages of the book, flipping through the chapters. The first few pages are missing, although you don’t think it matters much, probably just a table of contents and the introduction. Crystal Abilities, Manifestations, Magic Circles, Familiars, Introductory Spells, Advanced Summoning—go figure, he wasn’t kidding—it looked like a genuine book. You can’t tell who the author is with how worn the cover is, and the missing pages don’t help. “You don’t really expect me to make a summoning circle for the sake of an inside joke, do you?”

“Oh, I totally do. I’ll be requiring proof.”

“You suck.”

“Thanks!” He grins before turning heel to make his retreat. “Anyways, I’ll be taking my leave, it’s my turn to get groceries for the week. Chuuya said he’d lock me out if I didn’t come home with them.”

You flip him off as he leaves (endearingly, mind you), and he parrots the gesture after a wave.

You can feel the book glaring at you from across the room not even thirty minutes into your study session. You try to focus on the words of your actual textbook, but your sight keeps shifting to the leather-bound book still sitting on the counter. At the very least, it hasn’t begun levitating. You look back at your textbook, sigh, and slam it shut with more force than necessary. The old chair creaks as you stand, and you let curiosity beckon you closer.

You flip through the book a few times until you can find the Advanced Summoning section again. The first thing to greet you is a warning:

“Due to the risks involved, attempting to summon or communicate with spirits, demons, angels, or other powerful entities is ill-advised for beginners. Many entities display malevolent qualities, and it is a risk for even the most experienced to take. Always remain vigilant around entities, and keep necessary protection on hand at all times.”

The warning makes you hesitate, but you flip the page anyways—it wouldn’t actually work.

The next few pages have a few faded diagrams of summoning circles on them. The one designated for demons, to your dismay, is probably the most complex, with a nine-pointed star marked in the center of it along with a few symbols you couldn’t recognize around the edge of the circle. The rest of the instructions are straightforward; A candle in each of the points and an object in the center that projected your goal from the pact. Finally, it says to add something important to you, an object that could act as some sort of tether. A final warning sits at the bottom of the page, though you can't make out parts of it with the blots of ink spilled onto the pages.

“Do not add more tha … projections may lead to uninvited … Be warned that once the ritual is initiated, there is no … The ritual must b … Incompleted pacts may result in earl …”

Blatantly ignoring the ominous text (you realize while you’re looking for something to write with that you feel like a traditionally idiotic horror movie protagonist), you take a chunk of chalk—for once you’re grateful for the blackboard stuck on the fridge that was basically just for aesthetics, now—and begin scrawling on the kitchen tile with it. It’s sloppy and a little uneven, but it works. You open a pack of tea lights from the cabinet, mentally cursing Dazai for making you do this in the first place. You throw some tea lights on the points of the star, stepping back to admire whatever the hell it is you’re doing instead of studying, and slipping your phone from your pocket to video call the subject of your condemnation.

The phone rings twice before he picks up, squinting down at his phone as he walks, sun overhead and glaring into the camera. “Hello?”

“The hell, are you still shopping? Thought you’d be back to break into my apartment by now.”

He grins, holding a few bags of groceries into the camera's view for a moment. “I did, I’m coming back now. I started wandering the city. What’s up? You’re killing me, making me hold all these bags in one hand so I can hold my phone, you know,” he complains, loudly shaking the bags close to the microphone for good measure.

You grin, flipping the camera around so he can see the glorified kindergartener's work scribed onto the floor.

He blinks owlishly at you a few times before he finally responds. “You know,” he says, dodging someone along the busy sidewalk, “I was mostly joking.”

“What.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it!”

“Fuck you!”

He has the audacity to giggle into the phone, looking elated. “Well, you have to finish it now!”

“Why?!”

“Gotta see if it really works,” he says, followed by a poor impression of a spooky ghost sound.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you look back at the book, “I need an object that reflects my desires, or something. I don’t know what to pick.”

“Just throw a few in there.”

“But the instructions say to just use one—” he’s staring at the camera blankly. “Right. Not real.”

You look around your apartment, settling on the English textbook you’d been pointedly ignoring. Plucking it from the table, you place it into the summoning circle. That represents your finals, right? “I can’t believe I’m doing this. What else should I put?”

“Money, obviously.” The scenery behind Dazai is becoming more familiar, he wasn’t too far from the apartment complex. Why he walked, to begin with, you don’t know, unless he was just bored.

You take a stray coin from your pocket, adding it to the circle. “Should I add something else?”

“Just throw something random down, I don’t know.”

You move to the counter, settling on an apple and grabbing it from the counter. It was green at one point, but it got a touch too bruised for your liking, so might as well use it for something. It’s added carelessly to the pile. “There we go.” You grab a lighter from the drawer, lighting the tea lights. “I just need an object of importance or something.”

On your wrist sat a thin, braided bracelet. You’d met Atsushi’s younger sister, Kyouka, a handful of times, and your friend group had unofficially adopted her pretty quickly. To celebrate, she’d made friendship bracelets with the help of her best friend, Kenji, who also got the unofficial adoption treatment. You slip the bracelet off your hand after a brief struggle—the phone in your hand didn’t help—and drop it on the pile.

A beat passes. The silence is deafening. Dazai is squinting at the phone as if waiting for something to happen. Nothing happens, still. “You know,” you mumble, staring at the rather pathetic art project on the kitchen floor, “I’m not sure why I partially expected something to actually happen.”

“Invisible demon?” Dazai pipes up, unhelpfully.

“God, I hope not,” you snort, looking away from the circle. “I should get back to studying now that I’ve just wasted an hour of my time. See you later.”

Dazai struggles to give you a peace sign while simultaneously holding the grocery bags. “Bye! Don’t get possessed!” The call ends.

You slip your phone back into your pocket, staring at the circle before flipping it off out of pettiness. You move to take your textbook from the pile, ready to give in and go back to another round of studying—

With an audible whoosh, the flames of the candles jump up, as though doused by fuel. The flames nip at your arm, and you yank your hand back with a yelp to avoid them. Shrinking away from the heat, you panic, grabbing a towel from the drawer in a desperate attempt to douse the flames, but it's fruitless, the candle flame devouring the fabric far too quickly, like a starved animal.

You hear something that sounds like laughter and you shriek as the flames flicker wildly, up even higher, crackling into the deathly silent apartment. Jumping back in your panic, you make the mistake of scrambling too fast—socks slipping against the tiled floor in your haste. There’s a sharp pain of the back of your head hitting something solid, and then nothing.

[asoftepiloguemylove]

WHY ARE YOU HAUNTED? // ON HAUNTED HOUSES

Frederick Kiesler Inside the Endless House // The Haunting of Hill House (2018) cr. Mike Flanagan // Lisa Robertson Magenta Soul Whip // Joan Tierney Why Are You Haunted? // V.C. Andrews // Heather Havrileskyb Haunted Womanhood // Shirley Jackson The Haunting of Hill House // The Haunting of Hill House cr. Mike Flanagan // Tracy K. Smith Ash // Anatomy (2016) cr. Kitty Horrorshow

[alice-everafter]

"Stop moving around, herbivore."

The otherwise heavy silence is broken by Leona's deep timber of a voice. Rolling onto your back puts you in line of sight of his bed, where you can see the Savanna prince half covered in sheets you couldn't even afford to breathe on. He's facing away from you, barely moving. If he hadn't just spoken you'd assume he was dead or something.

"I could hear your squirming from half way across campus. Settle down or get out, you're disturbing my sleep."

"...Sorry." Your throat twinges with the faint reminder of how you got to sleep in the dorm room of Leona Kingscholar in the first place.

After being so rudely ejected from your beloved Ramshackle home on such short notice, possible sleeping arrangements were few and far between. Now, you could've taken Ace and Deuce up on their offer, but Jack was... he was Jack. And only Jack could convince you to stay in Savanaclaw. But, then Leona had to come and say no, and then you panicked cause you saw yourself and Grim on the street. And that panic plus the sleep deprivation from finals lead you to perform your own rendition of "Cotton Eye Joe" outside his bedroom out of sheer desperation.

You didn't even get to the second verse before he bodily dragged you inside with a growl that had you accepting death like an unspoken principle.

The room was once again blanketed in a thick silence. Grim, who slept by your feet, didn't even make a peep. Banging those pots around while providing you backing vocals must've taken it out of him. Poor guy. Out of anyone in this room, he's the one you'd feel the most bad for disturbing.

So, with a sigh, you accept your fate and get up from your collection of floor blankets. Your destination being one of the Savanaclaw couches.

You knew your mind, you wouldn't be sleeping for a while. There was just... too much. Azul and his contracts, Jade and Floyd and their sharp teeth, Leona and his eyes. The ones that once looked at you like you were vermin to crush through the haze of a raging sandstorm. While Ruggie batted and kicked and cried for breath. And you swore his eyes had glazed over as he fell limp and━

"Hey."

You stop, both bodily and mentally, as his voice once again breaks the silence. There's a cold sweat you didn't notice gathering on your back. You turn to find him staring at you with those same green eyes. You can't tell if he's searching for something in you or debating heavily with himself. But, whatever it is, it isn't for long before he seems to come to a conclusion with a rumbling sigh.

"Come here."

What. "What."

"You heard me, come here."

To say you were conflicted would be the understatement of the century. You had just been spiraling not even 30 seconds ago and now the object of your trauma was beckoning you closer like the parent to your distressed child.

"I don't have all day, herbivore. You coming or not?"

"...It's night."

"..."

"..."

"Just get over here before I change my mind."

"Right."

He heaves another grumbling sigh as you shuffle across the room. Stood next to his bed gives you a view reminiscent of that time in the greenhouse. Him, splayed across his bed, hair cascading over his pillows. While you're stock still and more than a bit puzzled and kind of scared. Even though you're looking down on him, you don't feel like you have the advantage that you should. He looks almost too calm, too relaxed. Like he's assured of a victory yet to come.

That thought sends a chill up your spine, reminding you of the sweat that persists on your back.

"Well?" He raises a brow expectantly.

You blink, "well, what?"

"Are you laying down or what?"

"...Am I laying down or what?"

"Need me to spell it out for you? Or should I help you into bed?"

"Not necessary."

You don't know what possesses you━whether it's self preservation or annoyance or curiosity or just straight madness━but you get in. You pull back those luxurious sheets and slide beneath them where you're immediately accosted by warmth. Heat seems to be radiating from him like a fire.

The revelation is... not an unpleasant one.

You realize he's still staring at you. But, not intently, not like he's trying to pry a secret from you. Leona never looks at anyone like he means to take their person apart. He simply observes and acknowledges, anyone and anything.

"Think you can finally go to bed and stop flopping around like a dead fish?"

"...Haven't I dealt with enough fish today? And now you bring them up in Savanaclaw of all places. Is no where safe?"

You're surprised when his brows pinch in amusement and a short but gruff chuckle leaves his lips.

"My bad then, for touching on such a tender topic."

"Yeah, your bad indeed."

No one says anything else afterward and he seems to take that as an invitation to turn onto his back. Letting out a deep breath through his nose while nestling an arm behind his head, eyes sliding shut.

Somewhere between you climbing into his bed and him settling down to sleep, the sweat has cooled off your skin. Not to mention the sudden heaviness dragging at your eyelids. Seems that you would be able to sleep some after all.

You turn away and towards the open balcony, towards the spot where you had once laid and Grim continues to snooze. The moon lights up the room, and though it's not the sun, it still feels just as warm somehow.

Speaking of warm, there's a heater pressed to your back. Scratch that, Leona is pressed to your back. And that's his arm, sliding over your hip and resting draped over your side.

It feels like the world hiccups when you feel his next breath puff against your hair. But, surprisingly enough, you're not shaking in your metaphorical boots. Just... very confused, once again.

"...Is this supposed to be punishment for 'Cotton Eye Joe?'"

He says nothing at first, and you begin to fear for your safety before he eventually does.

"Whatever helps put you to bed faster."

That arm over your side moves before you feel his hand settle atop your collarbone. Those same hands that had once brought ruin and pain were now just a small brush away from your neck.

This should terrify you, but it doesn't. Because he's gentle in this moment. His arm isn't an insistent press, it's a steady weight. His hand isn't a branding clasp, it's a soft touch.

There are words left unsaid between you two that his body seems to carry instead. And you drift off with the feeling of his tail draping over your ankles beneath the sheets.

[demonic0angel]

Story Idea

Story idea where the Batfamily stumbles upon a painting that was kept away because it's considered haunted and take it home. It has reportedly caused hallucinations, dizziness, headaches and nosebleeds, unnaturally unlucky incidents, “accidental” deaths, and much, much more, whenever one is kept in someone’s home. It's one of the Team Phantom members, but I like to think it's Jazz because she's a good introduction to the ghost craziness.

However, at night, they discover why the painting is called haunted. When night falls, the painting talks and has conversation with people, just like a regular person. At first, only Jason could see it and he thought he was going crazy until Jazz was eventually able to chat with all of the Batfamily members and says that she’s actually part of a collection. A collection of 7 paintings that were all created by her little brother for their family, which also included his portrait, and they have to collect them all or the paintings will continue to wreck havoc on the mental and psychological health of everybody around them. (The only reason the Batfamily is safe is because Jazz is a less haunted painting than the others and the Batfamily are already halfway insane).

Cue ghost and spy shenanigans as the Batfamily all have to search for the 7 paintings created by D. P. Fenton, a mysterious individual who created 7 works of art and trapped his loved ones’ spirits inside of them.

Sketches of the paintings

[winterprince601]

unfortunately for jon snow, the role of "dead girl haunting the narrative" is already occupied by his mother, father, brother, sister, uncle, grandmother and step mother x2 so he's going to have to be forcibly resurrected :/

[farceurcole]