#Mainland Haunts

[eerieonlakeerie]

Fairport Harbour Lighthouse

Photo provided by: RockTheLake.com

“For years, curators at the Fairport Harbor lighthouse museum swore they saw a ghost of a cat, skittering across the kitchen floor or jumping on the bed.

Then, they found one. During renovations in 2001, workers installing air conditioning vents discovered the mummified remains of a cat in a crawl space."

"Was it Sentinel, the gray cat beloved by Mary Babcock, the wife of the first lighthouse keeper?

In 1871, Civil War veteran Capt. Joseph Babcock moved his wife and young daughter, Hattie, to become the first keeper of the new lighthouse. The couple had two more sons. But in 1889, 14-year-old Robbie died, according to Cynthia Turk, a Lake County research genealogist.

Other sources put his age at 5, and say he died from smallpox.

In 1901, the Painesville Telegraph wrote, “After his years of experience in the light house and on the lakes, Captain Babcock is perfectly familiar with his present duties and no more efficient keeper could be secured. The Fairport light is one of the best on the lakes and the distance at which the light can be seen is estimated at eighteen miles in clear weather.”

Mary Babcock fell critically ill shortly after Robbie’s death. Bedridden in the keeper’s quarters, she kept cats to help pass the long days. Sentinel, a gray cat her husband found in the lighthouse basement, became her constant companion. After Babcock died, the gray cat disappeared.

Photo provided by: Tripadvisor

Since the remains of the cat were found, six cable TV shows have shot episodes at the lighthouse, now part of the Fairport Harbor Lighthouse and Marine Museum, which reopens to the public in May. The cat’s leathery remains are kept at the museum.

And the story is celebrated every Halloween with scary stories a moonlight climb to the top of the Lake County tower.”

Story provided by: RockTheLake.com

[vodkassassin]

Amity Park didn’t return to Illinois after they were transported to the ghost zone.

After all, the Zone is fickle even in transporting singular entities like the smallest blob ghost. How about an entire town, with all those people in it?

Instead of Illinois, they end up slightly off the coast of New Jersey, a long time before Amity Park, Illinois ever existed.

Fixing damages that happened to the town during the transfer is considered a total loss, so they scrap everything and rebuild. Since the ghost issue seems to not be going anywhere ever, the decision to lean into the aesthetic and embrace it instead of denying and fighting it is nearly unanimous (save for a few ghost hunters here and there, but they are the minority).

It’s easy to slide into their new existence. Things are very different from the modern life they’re all used to, but much is still the same.

Phantom is always there to protect.

Hauntings are a part of their very foundations.

Amity Park was always pretty isolated, all things considered. So they continue on.

Tucker later on becomes mayor of the new town Gotham (Sam has a heavy hand in convincing everyone to go along with the name). He holds his position much longer and with far higher approval ratings than his predecessor.

Sam eventually marries someone who moved to the newly established Gotham from the mainland, on a business venture, whose last name is Wayne.

Together, they inherit what’s left of the immense Manson wealth.

People from the mainland come and go, providing economy. Not a lot of them stick around, too uneasy of the supernaturally dreary atmosphere of Gotham Island and it’s frankly hostile architecture. The Amitians — Gothamites now — don’t really get it. What’s wrong with ghosts??

The original townspeople are so saturated with ectoplasm at this point that they’ve ceased aging. They die eventually, but immediately become ghosts and just make the trip through the portal to become citizens of Phantom’s kingdom in the Infinite Realms. All things considered, nothing much changes after death, either.

However, it’s soon decided that before any more new people can move to Gotham, the portal must be closed and locked for the safety of the regular humans who are not as immune to the influence of the Zone.

So the portal is buried and hidden, locked and guarded by the eternal soldiers of the Ghost King, the key safely kept on the King’s person at all times.

Life goes on. Years pass. The true origins of Gotham fall into the realm of the forgotten. Eventually, it becomes what it is today.

Batman and all.

The Batcave is more home to Bruce Wayne than even the manor that caps it. That’s because in the cave, he is a step closer to a portal to the Infinite Realms that has been locked and hidden deep underneath the land that once belonged to his ancestors, the Manson-Waynes.

As a direct descendant of one of the original Amity Park townspeople, and one who was (is) so closely tied to the haunt of the Ghost King himself, Bruce has always had a special and innate connection to the town and the land that his city is built on, but never really knew why.

He just thinks of it as his father Thomas explained it to him; the Manson-Waynes, later the Waynes, had been one of the founding families families of Gotham — alongside the Fenton, Baxter, and Sanchez families. Since the other families have long since died out, it’s up to the Waynes to uphold their legacy, and that duty falls to Bruce.

Or so that’s how Thomas, who knew nothing of Gotham’s ghostly, Amitian origins, understood it.

It’s not until Jason, back from the dead, becomes a regular part of the family again, that Bruce starts feeling as if something is different about the cave, and then later the city at large.

Almost as if it’s been awakened, somehow.

[cosmerelists]

The Other Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse But Make It Cosmere

As requested by @round-hatches-are-terrifying. :)

In the Good Omens novel, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (War, Famine, Pollution, and Death), who are bikers, are followed by four other biker dudes who chose their own names to be, uh, equally ominous:

Grievous Bodily Harm, Cruelty to Animals, Really Cool People, and Treading In Dogshit (formerly All Foreigners Especially The French, formerly Things Not Working Properly Even After You’ve Given Them A Good Thumping, never actually No Alcohol Lager, briefly Embarrassing Personal Problems, and finally People Covered in Fish)

So let's say we had other Horsemen on various Cosmere planets. What would they be named?

1. Roshar (Stormlight Archive)

The Main Horsemen: War, Famine, Desolation, and Death

The Other Horsemen: Man-Eating Giant Crabs, Running Out Of Stormlight Right In The Middle of the Weeping, Ill-Conceived Boons, and Reified Gender Norms (formerly Men Reading, formerly Predicting the Future But Not Like Storm Wardens Do Because That's Just Math Basically, briefly just Predicting the Future)

2. Scadrial (Era 1) (Mistborn)

The Main Horsemen: Famine, Pestilence, Ash, and Death

The Other Horsemen: Child Abuse, Dangerous Piercings, Trying to Keep Literally Anything Clean, and Getting Hit in The Head With A Coin Like Every Night Because of Those Blasted Mistborn Flying About Everywhere

3. Scadrial (Era 2) (Mistborn)

The Main Horsemen: War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death

The Other Horsemen: Social Unrest, Rich Bastards, ACAB, and Getting Hit in The Head With A Coin Like Every Night Because of Those Blasted Coinshots Flying About Everywhere

4. Nalthis (Warbreaker)

The Main Horsemen: War, Famine, Death, and Second Death

The Other Horsemen: Undead Squirrel Attacks, Being Out of Breath, The Haunting Realization that the Gods Who Live Among Us Are Actually Pretty Daft, and All Foreigners But Especially the Idrians

5. Threnody (Shadows for Silence)

The Main Horsemen: Fire, Blood, Running, and Death

The Other Horsemen: Fortfolk-Acting-Too-Big-For-Their-Britches, Withering-That-Does-Not-Kill-You-But-Does-Make-Life-Just-That-Much-Harder-Forever, Ghost-Grandmother, and Adonalsium-May-Remember-Our-Plight-Eventually-But-For-Now-It-Is-Pretty-Bleak-Out-Here-Guys

6. Komashi (Yumi and the Nightmare Painter)

The Main Horsemen: Nightmares, Famine, Pestilence, and Death

The Other Horsemen: Artist's Block, Being Straight on a Planet Where Even the Lighting is Bisexual, AI Art, and A Stiff Breeze Coming At Exactly The Wrong Time Noooo My Rock Stacks

7. First of the Sun (Sixth of Dusk)

The Main Horsemen: Bad Death, Worst Death, Quick Death, and Slow Death

The Other Horsemen: Mainlanders, Mainlander Capitalism, Kids These Days, and Suspicious Invaders (?) From Outer Space

8. Sel (Elantris)

The Main Horsemen: War, Famine, the Shaod, and Death

The Other Horsemen: Aggressive Proselytizers, Stubbing your Toe, People Who Do Not Accept The Word of Shu-Dereth And So Seal For Themselves Their Own Inevitable Doom, and I'm With The First Guy Who Said Proselytizers (formerly People Covered in Slime)

[deliciousangelfestival]

Secret Sorrows || Bodyguard AU

Summary: Former special ops, Bucky, seeks solace in a cold refuge to escape his past. However, his haunted history catches up, unraveling mysteries that persist relentlessly.

Words Count: 2,253

Warning: Death character.

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing within the mystery theme. I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

In Antarctica's vast, frozen expanse, where researchers braved the harshest conditions, Bucky, a former military man seeking solitude in the icy isolation, served as the stern yet vigilant security presence.

One frosty day, Bucky diligently checked the storage temperatures, surrounded by the frigid air that mirrored the chill in his own heart. 

As he focused on his task, he was approached by Chef Jack, who had recently returned from the mainland to visit his grandchildren.

Bundled in layers against the biting cold, Chef Jack grinned at Bucky. "You're a charming man, Bucky. Why are you still single? The female scientists who work here have been flirting with you.”

Bucky, his breath visible in the freezing air, chuckled softly. "I just haven't found the one."

Chef Jack, his eyes reflecting the wisdom of age, patted Bucky on the shoulder. "I see. Still can't forget the former? I understand."

Bucky's gaze dropped to the snowy ground and fell into a heavy silence. He nodded subtly, not wanting to delve into the painful memories beneath the icy surface of his stoic demeanor.

In a sudden turn of events, Bucky received an emergency alert: "We need backup."

Without hesitation, he swiftly responded over the radio, "On my way," and rushed towards his waiting car.

Emergencies were a rare occurrence in this remote location, and deaths resulting from foul play were even more uncommon. 

Upon arrival at the scene, Bucky was met with a chilling sight – two in orange swimming suits, eerily floating in the icy waters. 

Drowning was the cause, an unusual and unsettling occurrence in this frozen realm. The onlooking tourists, shaken and fearful, murmured amongst themselves.

The atmosphere was tense as one tourist anxiously mentioned, "They have a kid, right? Where is their son?"

Bucky, now profoundly concerned, hadn't even seen the faces of the victims yet. His focus shifted to the potential tragedy of a child being left alone in such extreme conditions. 

Ignoring the bitter cold, he resolved to search for any sign of the missing child, determined to navigate through the frigid wilderness in a race against time.

Bucky, determined to find the missing child, declared, "I'm going to find their kid."

Meanwhile, young Ethan, feeling out of place in the freezing Antarctic surroundings, had been running away from the group. He voiced his displeasure about being on the tour, unable to comprehend why his parents insisted on such a cold adventure.

"Why did Mom and Dad want to come here? And who was that scary man looking at me?”

As Ethan blew on his cold hands, a sudden shadow engulfed him, casting a momentary relief from the harsh Antarctic winds. 

Looking up, he found himself face to face with a tall man, his piercing blue eyes reflecting genuine concern.

"Hey buddy. My name is Bucky. I'm here to get you safe," Bucky reassured him.

Still shivering from the cold and the frightful encounter, Ethan stammered, "Sa-save me."

Sensing the depth of the child's fear, Bucky draped a warm blanket over him and gently scooped him into his protective arms. Ethan, seeking comfort, curled up against Bucky, his small frame shivering against the chill.

"I want my grandma," Ethan mumbled, his voice barely audible over the Antarctic wind.

With a reassuring tone, Bucky responded, "You will, buddy," holding the frightened child close.

Bucky, carrying the shivering Ethan to his car, couldn't escape the grim reality as he passed the body bag containing the deceased. 

In an impulse, he took a brief, painful glance before it closed – a glimpse that nearly brought him to his knees. The face inside, now concealed, triggered a rush of memories from his past, a haunting connection he hadn't expected.

Iris Aston. His first love. 

The weight of the revelation hit Bucky hard, but he refocused on the scared child in his arms. The realization struck him – Ethan was Iris's son. 

As he gently placed the child on the office couch, Bucky's mind raced, processing the unexpected intersection of his past and the present.

Bucky tried to steady himself by pouring a cup of hot chocolate for Ethan. "What's your name, buddy?" he asked, his voice revealing the underlying shock.

"Ethan Van Alen," came the soft reply, intensifying Bucky's internal turmoil. After separating from Iris, he had heard about her marrying into an old-money family – the Van Alens.

Bucky, grappling with the revelation, inquired about Ethan's aunt, hoping for some grounding in this unexpected twist. "Is your grandma here too?"

Ethan shook his head, his eyes reflecting fear and uncertainty. "No, she's not.”

"I'm sure she will come here as soon as possible," he assured.

As Bucky received a call from his concerned colleagues requesting assistance, Ethan, overcome with fear, clung desperately to Bucky's leg. "No. Don't leave me," he pleaded, his small frame trembling with anxiety.

Bucky's colleagues, now understanding the gravity of the situation, exchanged somber glances. The shocking reality dawned on Bucky as he realized that the couple who had tragically perished was none other than Ethan's parents.

Sensitive to the child's distress, Bucky, without hesitation, scooped Ethan into his arms, providing the solace the orphaned boy desperately sought. Now cradled in the safety of Bucky's strong arms, Ethan felt a sense of reassurance that had eluded him before.

Bucky entered the empty storage room where Iris's lifeless body was being kept. As he gazed upon her, memories flooded back – of a time when they were inseparable, studying together at the military academy. 

Their connection ran deep, but Iris had abruptly left, and her icy rejection had marked the last encounter.

He could still hear her words, cutting through him like a bitter wind, "Who do you think you are? Don't touch me!" A painful reminder of the social gap between them, a gap that fate had widened.

Looking down at Iris now, her once bright smile extinguished, Bucky couldn't shake the heartbreak that lingered from their past.

His colleagues reported no visible signs of trauma on Iris's body, adding a layer of mystery to her sudden demise. Seeking answers, Bucky turned to the only witness – young Ethan.

Ethan joined the conversation, his voice shaky but determined. "After my dad and mom drank something, they walked funny and fell into the water. And... and..."

Bucky, offering a reassuring presence, prompted, "What happened next, Ethan?”

The boy hesitated before continuing, "A scary man looked at me and walked towards me. That's why I ran." 

Bucky's colleagues updated him, saying, "The tour guide has called the family. They already sent someone."

Still in Bucky's comforting presence, Ethan inquired with hope, “Grandma is coming?"

Bucky gently patted the kid on the back, assuring him, "Yes."

Finding solace in the knowledge that his grandma was on the way, Ethan felt a wave of relief wash over him. 

Bucky thought, never underestimate the power of money, expecting the relatives to arrive by ship. However, a large plane unexpectedly landed. Bucky, still carrying Ethan, and others anxiously awaited the arrival of the guests.

As the plane's door opened, Bucky, from a distance, couldn't discern who was stepping out. Restlessness overcame Ethan, and he wanted to get down. "Grandma," he exclaimed when he saw a familiar figure.

But Ethan abruptly halted in his tracks. The unexpected figure approaching him wasn't his grandma but his aunt. A surge of fear gripped him. He had always been scared of her.

Bucky, equally taken aback, felt a shockwave of disbelief. He had witnessed her lifeless form in the cold storage room, and now she stood before him – alive, breathing. 

How come Iris came back to live?

Is he seeing a ghost? Or a zombie?

Unable to conceal his astonishment, he stammered, "Iris?”

Ethan suddenly chimed in, "That's my mother's name. This person is my aunt. Her name is Y/N.”

Y/N's reply was devoid of emotion as she spoke in a cold, matter-of-fact tone, "I'm her twin sister." 

Twin sister? Iris has a twin sister? She never mentioned this to him. Bucky was shocked by this revelation

Y/N's demeanor showed no signs of sadness or grief. "I'm here to collect their bodies and bring Ethan back home."

Offering his condolences, Bucky expressed, "My name is Bucky. I'm sorry for what happened to your sister. It sounds crazy, but I knew your sister from the military academy."

Y/N's response was detached, "I see. Could you show my assistant which documents to sign so we could leave?" 

Her request held no trace of emotion, contrasting sharply with the heartfelt sentiments Bucky had just conveyed.

Taken aback by the stark difference between Y/N and Iris, Bucky found himself grappling with the realization that, despite their identical faces, their personalities were worlds apart. 

As the simple yet somber process unfolded, the body bags were carefully loaded onto the plane. Before departing, Ethan looked at Bucky, a silent exchange containing layers of unspoken emotions. 

Ethan glanced at Bucky, hope flickering in his eyes; he asked, "Can brother come with us?"

Y/N, who was busy with her phone, responded, "If he wants too."

Struggling to fully comprehend the stark differences between Y/N and Iris, Bucky leaned down to Ethan and softly said, "I hope we meet again someday." 

The words hung in the air, a wistful expression of the unexpected bond formed amidst the cold Antarctic challenges.

Absorbing the sentiment, Ethan offered a slow nod, the weight of recent events etched across his young face. 

Y/N didn't spare Bucky a glance as she entered the plane, her demeanor as cold as the Antarctic winds. 

Today, Bucky encountering his first love only to find her lifeless, meeting her son, and discovering the existence of her twin sister.

Despite Y/N's demeanor, icy as the landscape around them, Bucky couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity. It wasn't just the shared face with Iris; there was an unspoken connection, an elusive something more that lingered in the air. 

Bucky had a bunch of questions swirling in his head. He couldn't determine why Iris never told him about her twin sister. Even though he wanted answers, he hesitated to ask.

He wished he could talk more to Y/N.

The Van Alen and Aston household seemed full of secrets. The news about the company heir's death hit the headlines, and it got crazier when someone tried to kidnap Ethan, the heir's son.

Something felt off to Bucky. First, Iris died, and now there's a danger to Ethan. Y/N, who looked like Iris, came to mind. He worried someone might go after Y/N, too.

Not willing to let harm come to them, Bucky packed up and left Antarctica, arriving in a warm New York. He headed to the Van Alen residence, seeing many cars and guests offering condolences.

Thinking he couldn't get in, Bucky was surprised there was no security. But then he learned that Ethan had gone missing – a kidnap attempt had just happened. Ethan is missing from his room.

As Bucky approached the Van Alen residence, he noticed the branch of a nearby tree shaking. Looking up, he sighed, realizing it was Ethan.

"Ethan?" Bucky called out.

"Bro? Bucky? Is that you?" Ethan responded from the tree.

"What are you doing?" Bucky inquired.

Ethan explained, frustration in his voice, "I hate everyone. No one talks to me!"

Feeling a pang of sympathy for the grieving child, Bucky opened his arms, saying, "Come down. Everyone is worried about you."

Reluctantly, Ethan descended from the tree, landing in Bucky's protective embrace. As they stood together, security personnel, witnessing the scene, moved forward, intending to detain Bucky.

Before they could intervene, Ethan intervened, proclaiming, "No. He's my bodyguard." The unexpected declaration left the security team momentarily puzzled, but Ethan's insistence shielded Bucky from further scrutiny. 

"You've created unnecessary chaos," Y/N stated, appearing with five people behind her, resembling assistants and bodyguards. 

Bucky couldn't help but think that Y/N, Ethan's aunt, was too cold. She didn't even make an effort to coax her own nephew.

In a burst of emotion, Ethan exclaimed, "Nobody cares for me. Everyone wishes I was gone so Aunt has everything!"

Bucky, taken aback by Ethan's outburst, never expected him to yell like this. Y/N remained silent, eventually sighing, "Be grateful you're still breathing."

Ethan flinched and cried in Bucky's arms, expressing, "Huuu, nobody in this house loves me.”

Bucky tried to comfort the distressed child, saying, "I will talk to your aunt." 

Bucky followed Y/N, expressing concern that Ethan was grieving and suggesting she should be with her nephew during this challenging time.

Y/N's bodyguard attempted to push Bucky away, but she raised her left hand, signaling him to stop.

At that moment, Bucky noticed a small tattoo on Y/N's left fourth finger. His eyes widened as he recognized the same tattoo he and Iris had gotten together back in the day. 

How was it possible that Y/N also had the same tattoo?

Y/N calmly remarked, "Seeing you so eager to protect Ethan, I'll hire you as his bodyguard. He's the reason you're here, right?"

Bucky didn't argue, though his motive extended beyond protecting Ethan; he was also there to find Iris's killer and the person behind the attempt to kidnap Ethan.

Y/N continued, "I'll take that as a yes. My assistant will draw up the contract."

Surprised by her trust, Bucky questioned, "You trust me?"

Y/N replied, "Your effort in coming here to protect Ethan is enough to judge that you're sincere." Bucky was taken aback by her astute judgment. Y/N was not as ignorant as he had initially thought.

Before Bucky could delve further, Y/N declared, "That's good. I need a trusted person to protect Ethan because that kid's life is more important than mine." Bucky sensed a hint of self-pity in her words. 

Before leaving, Y/N added, "Back then, Iris trusted you. I hope I can feel the same. Don't disappoint me, Barnes." Her words hint at a sense of expectation and reliance on Bucky's capabilities.

As he pondered asking her about it, Y/N departed with her entourage, leaving Bucky with lingering questions and a newfound role as Ethan's protector.

Author Note :

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

Join the taglist? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

@thezombieprostitute

@ozwriterchick

@honeywiththemoney

@scott-loki-barnes

@10ava01

@abbyyourlocalmilf

@identity2212

@ordelixx

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@ylva-syverson

@winterslove1917

@kandis-mom

@sapphirebarnes

@almosttoopizza

@namoreno

Author Note: Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

[renewedmotionforjudgment]

My subtweet of Chinese netizens re: cdramas, part 2, because I periodically peak on the other side of the great firewall and immediately regret my actions.

Toxic beauty standard: honestly, this makes me glad that I didn’t spend my teenage years in the mainland. Bc apparently, being able to move your face when you make an expression is bad because you have lines.

And yet somehow critiquing in particular female idols and actresses for either photoshopping their pictures or getting plastic surgery to fit those beauty standards. The cognitive dissonance.

line delivery: I’m going to make this one on the record, so it may come back to haunt me. But honestly, as long as the way the line is delivered matches the scene and the emotions of the scene, I do not give a single flying fuck about whether the actor has “perfect mandarin” (a standard that literally is imposed by an authoritarian government to erase all traces of diversity within a country as big as China, there are 200 dialect and my family internally speaks 5 and we understand each other just fine.). Or, because I keep hearing this as this “gold standard” of line delivery — the clear enunciation of each character. Like is the founder of that standard John Malkovich? Literally unless the character is Captain Benjamin Sisko, people don’t talk like that and I like my characters even if they are in some Xianxia realm or a fake dynasty to sound like people, not like they are doing the morning news channel. I’ve consistently found that when actors either dub themselves or it’s real voice on set, the scene is so much more emotional, proper mandarin and enunciation be damned.

The weird idea that a drama can only have flattering camera angles: this is me being a Zhu Ruibin defense squad member. But like, no, this isn’t an ad campaign. Camera angles should reflect what the director wants to convey for the scene.

Finally, the idea that international fans somehow are less knowledgeable or are idiots with bad taste. Which admittedly, I’m personally offended by this accusation. Most international fans can tell good and bad acting, thank you very much. But also, since I neither care about conformity to mainstream Chinese culture nor to the CCP, I’m free to enjoy things that appeals to me as oppose to holding it up to some arbitrary standard, whether that’s line delivery or beauty or mandarin pronunciation.

[thesiltverses]

any clues on whats next after tsv ends ? :)

No concrete confirmation, but we did put out a Patreon post back in spring with a few draft pitches, to gauge initial interest and see what kind of genre storytelling folks were most excited to see from us.

I'll paste them below, so you can see the kinds of things we've had in mind (#2 and #3 were the most popular, but it was a fairly even spread outside of that). We've had a few more really fun ideas since then that I'll keep schtum about for now.

General feedback was that people were most enthusiastic about seeing ongoing, multi-season projects from us, which makes perfect sense and is much more sensible for us anyway in terms of sustaining a livelihood / retaining audience members along the way.

That said, TSV has been a three-year endeavour which is a big commitment, and personally I think the best horror is often self-contained, short and sweet.

So I'd really love to have the time to work on a few miniseries-type shows as well, but also need to recognise that we likely don't have the bandwidth to juggle two projects simultaneously.

With all that in mind, I think the direction we're hoping to be able to pursue is:

1+ shorter horror miniseries or one-offs with production or network partners (if they want to work with us) where we're largely on writing duties or with a lighter load.

1 longer, ongoing weird-fiction show which is all ours, baby, all ours.

Draft pitches

#1: Manes

Genre: Historical horror, cosmic horror, family drama with murderous stakes

Influences: The Terror Season 1, pretty much.

Summary: In 208 AD, the ailing Roman emperor Septimius Severus travels north across Hadrian's Wall into Caledonia, with the aim of finally uniting Britain under imperial rule.

For Severus, there's more at stake - his two sons are openly at odds over the succession, and it's openly said that civil war will follow the emperor's death.

Severus himself rose to supreme power through violence and the elimination of his rivals. Now, haunted by the possibility of revenge by the shades of the divine dead and dwelling unhappily on his legacy, the emperor hopes to share his final triumph with his sons and demonstrate a different lesson to them - that an equitable peace is a lasting possibility.

But as the Roman column makes its way north into apparently endless woods, surrounded by cronies, schemers, Britons, soothsayers, priestesses of Cybele, and more, the emperor and his family find that their enemy is nowhere to be seen - but they are being pursued by a force that is both strange and terrible.

And soon enough, the Romans realise that they have perhaps strayed not into Caledonia at all - but into a hostile realm of their own imagining...

Why make this show? We adore period horror, and there's far too little of it out there.

Severus and his family are a fascinating set of characters who we'd love to spend some time with - as ethically-compromised participants in a very Shakespearean tragedy, and as individuals whose heritage, religious beliefs and psychologies allow us to explore aspects of ancient Rome that haven't been done to death in fiction already.

#2: I'll Dance In The Deep Shadow

Genre: Weird-fiction noir, paranoid espionage fiction, cosmic horror

Influences: Cold War spy classics, Roadside Picnic

Summary: Across the water from the mainland UK, a vast walled city has come unexpectedly into existence.

The city’s walls are composed of purest shadow; its leaders have not revealed themselves to us, nor have they made demands of us.

Upon its streets, our own dead and forlorn doubles wander; grinning doppelgangers who seem to know something terrible from the future that’s to come.

We call the city Umbra.

Umbra is a bottomless well of shadow and secrets; its darkened landscapes are home to suppressed memories turned savage and monstrous.

Its citizens and its guards are twisted echoes, repetitions, and whispering relics of the world's buried past - and they will not reveal Umbra's purpose to us.

Around Umbra's great walls, representatives from the world's governments gather and plot against one another - mercenaries, guides, spies, black-market traders, scientists and killers - to infiltrate the city, map its streets, and navigate its dangers for themselves.

Why make this show? Less of an Eskew sequel than it probably sounds at first glance, this one. 

We'd love to do a paranoid, twist-filled, pessimistic John Le Carre-style spy thriller, with multiple characters who can neither trust themselves nor each other - and we feel like we've got some really interesting horror themes around memory and forgetting here to explore with this concept.

#3: Our Wars Have Ended

Genre: Dark fantasy, New Weird fantasy

Influences: The Black Company, the Bas-Lag series, Gormenghast.

Summary: It’s a strange time to be alive.

Thirty years ago, countless legions of the ancient dead rose from their graves to conquer the living lands; lands which now rest in an uneasy - but peaceful - state of occupation.

Withered corpses sit upon the thrones of the living and play silent courtier in the shadowed halls, acting out the rituals and habits of their past lives while dead men and women keep watch from the ruined towers. 

Mortal historians and linguists frantically mediate between our returned masters, trying to keep the peace - which estate belongs to whom? Who shall rule eternal? Which traditions deserve to live on?

But this is a time of wondrous change, too - new technologies, empowered by the revelations of the Dead Reclamation and the will of the Ancestors. Strange machines rumble through the hills and necronautical vessels delve into the unexplored territories of the afterlife itself.

And it has been announced that the Hollowbrow Queen will unite the nation with a powerful gesture, taking on a living consort in a marriage of the fleeting and the eternal.

On one side of the conquered country, an old veteran leads his mercenary company on a reluctant expedition towards the capital, in the employ of a long-dead king on a mission of revenge.

On the other, a young dead-diver and essayer into the realms of the dead is hired to investigate a peculiar mystery, and a conspiracy that may involve both the living and the returned…

Why make this show? Because Game of Thrones had no interest in the (to us) enjoyable questions of 'well, why do the ancient dead want to conquer the living, exactly? What happens once they've done it?' and we'd love to deconstruct that and play with the idea of loathsome undead aristocrats from every period of history squabbling with one another over what their conquered nation actually means.

Because we think we've built up the confidence and the skills to take a big swing at an epic adventure story and a semi-traditional fantasy - it feels like an idea that could potentially appeal to a wider audience while remaining true to our own core values of Weirdness, Horrible Things and More Weirdness.

#4: To Those Who Wait

Genre: Cosmic horror, dark comedy, mockumentary

Influences: Dead Set, Ghostwatch, Savageland, Evil Dead

Summary: Eskew Productions has gone in a surprising direction with its latest production - a new reality experiment and dating-show podcast.

Eight lovelorn singletons have been given rooms in the exclusive Gregory Hotel. Over the course of six weeks, these contestants will go on dates, carry out team challenges, and ultimately try and find themselves a life partner - all without seeing each other's faces.

The aim of the experiment? To prove that good things really do come to those who wait.

As they pore through a mixture of recorded and behind-the-scenes footage, however, it may become very apparent to listeners that something else is waiting in the Gregory.

And one by one, our contestants find themselves at risk of far more than being voted off...

Why make this show? As a great big act of play more than anything else.

We adore horror mockumentaries, but in audio-drama they tend to be faux-journalistic. 

Doing a show that instead mimics hokey reality shows to the point of being mistakable for the real thing, but turns out to be a ghost story instead...that's a lot of fun to us.

#5: In The Devil's Counties

Genre: Historical horror, cosmic horror

Influences: Nathan Ballingrud's Wounds, Seven Samurai, Between Two Fires, Dog Soldiers, Aliens…

Summary: As the Magna Carta states: “All evil customs relating to forests and warrens, foresters, warreners, sheriffs and their servants, or river-banks and their wardens, are at once to be investigated by twelve sworn knights of the county, and within forty days of their enquiry the evil customs are to be abolished completely and irrevocably.”

In early-medieval Sussex, a motley group of knights rides out to investigate tales of ungodly horror and acts of forbidden worship from deep in the English countryside - including Ralph Dagworth, 'hell's mapmaker'.

What the party of knights discovers out in the warrens and the forests of the county, however, is far stranger and more terrible than any Christian conception of hell…

Why make this show? Again, because we're itching to have a go at some period horror, and that weirdly specific Magna Carta quote is just too fun to pass up as a springboard for some 'isolated squaddies in enemy territory' storytelling. (Sadly, it does have a more grounded explanation.)

#6: Strangling Knot

Genre: Anthology horror

Influences: Junji Ito, experimental 8-bit horror, Black Mirror's Bandersnatch

Summary: 

“The rules of the game are simple. This is a place of endless forking paths and one exit. 

There’s something terrible in here with you. Get ready."

A Choose Your Own Adventure-style horror audio anthology; each episode is a distinct story with branching paths that may lead to failure (most of the time) or escape (more rarely).

Why make this show? This is likely the only show that we could reasonably produce as a side-project (and we've been chatting to a couple of other talented horror creators about it already, sssh).

We'd like to be able to play with single-narrator horror storytelling again that's relatively quick and easy to produce - but we do want to at least try and ensure it doesn't feel like we're repeating I Am In Eskew.

There's some really fun stuff happening out there already with CYOA-style audiodrama, and that seems like an opportunity that's ripe for playing about with.

[charlesoberonn]

The Last World: Dark Fantasy novel concept inspired by Dark Souls and the bible:

The God of the world grew to hate the inhabitants of his creation, and so he brought down a cataclysm to destroy them, so that he might repopulate the Earth. But centuries after the cataclysm, four cities still remain. Growing tired of waiting for the cities to die out on their own, God sent down a slayer in the form of a mute soldier made of bronze, clay, and sand.

The Soldier washes up on the shores of Sidon, another survivor city that a few decades earlier was defeated by the others. They're found by Magenel, the last knight of Sidon, still patrolling its now empty corpse-strewn beaches. Initially thinking the Soldier an enemy, Magenel learns through a vision about the Soldier's mission to avenge Sidon by slaying its enemies. And so he joins them on their quest.

First they must leave Sidon through the haunted bridge, where the remnants of 100,000 dead soldiers cling on to life to stop anybody from crossing. Once they make it to the mainland they head to Jericho.

The Living Walls of Jericho, reinforced with the bodies of the city's inhabitants, try to stop them. But they sneak through the living city's lungs and veins into its heart, where they slay its king. They then run away as the city, long merged with its monarch, collapses around them.

Next they travel to the twin cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, where time stands still. Long ago, the cities violated a treaty of mutually assured destruction against one another. Thankfully, just in time the mages of both cities activated a spell to hold time in place to prevent the destruction from raining on both cities. The Soldier and Magenel try to attack the time mages directly, but they're caught and defeated, separated through time.

The Soldier is sent back in time to the day of the mutually assured destruction. They try but cannot defeat the forces of Sodom and are trapped in the city's dungeons. There they help incite a riot using visions of the city's future. This causes the visions to come true, and soon the treaty of mutually assured destruction is broken. The day of destruction arrives. The Soldier is then sent back to the present. Or so they think.

In truth they're sent too far forward by decades. The Soldier travels to the city of Gommorah where Magenel has been fighting alone all this time. Helping him, together they defeat the time mages, ending the time freeze and escaping back in time to the present to witness both cities destroyed. Magenel then reveals that in those decades he was trapped in Gomorrah he learned things, including the Soldier's actions in the past. He questions why the Soldier didn't try to change things for the better. He decides to leave for the final city, Babylon, on his own.

After a long time wandering through the desert, the Soldier arrives at Babylon. The city is home to the refugees of all the world, who all work as builders on the city's central tower. They hope that by reaching the heavens, they can escape their hellish existence on Earth. The Soldier fights through Babylon's defenses, that are well prepared for them.

They rise floor by floor, defeating the challenges and obstacles put to them by Babylon's leadership. For each obstacle they overcome, a piece of their armor is lost, and so they replace it with a piece of their slain enemy. By the time they reach the unfinished tower's final floor to face the king, they're a Frankenstein's Monster of different parts.

But it's not the King waiting for them at the top. He’s been long dead, a mere symbol for the people of Babylon to rally behind. The one awaiting the Soldier of God is Magenel. And he knows what the Soldier has been fighting for all this time.

He's regretful for being blind and fool thinking that he was working towards a restoration of a false past. He’s sorry for slaying his enemies, realizing that now that Babylon is dead, the hope to rebuild is truly gone. Or is it? The ingredients to start anew and the plans still exist. He could rebuild, if given the time. And he has all the time in the world. So long as he can defeat the Soldier.

And so the final battle commences. Magenel is more skilled and powerful than any enemy the Soldier faced so far. He learned the techniques of all the kingdoms and now fights for humanity's past and future. Still, the Soldier is beyond human, especially now. Magenel loses, perishes. And with him humanity's hope for redemption.

God then comes down to the tower to congratulates his slayer for a job well done before he turns him back to sand. And with the Soldier, the rest of the world dies as well, washed away into nothingness as God starts anew.

Until the next time he's displeased with his creation...

[llitchilitchi]

an AU where Dream's prison stay does not go quite according to the plan, and everyone is haunted by a living ghost

all dsmp rp

Dream suffered through everything in prison to protect Punz, to hide their partnership, their collaboration, the fact that Punz has the revive book.

but things never went quite the way Dream hoped, did they? so when he dies in prison during torture, Sam pays Punz to help him drag the body out and bury it with a promise to keep his mouth shut for a high enough pay.

the grave is nondescript, far away from the mainland SMP - there is no one to come visit, no one to come mourn. there is no need to do much except dump the body in the hole and put dirt on top. he's met with no eulogy.

Sam departs soon, leaving Punz staring at the fresh patch of dirt. it's maybe an hour after that Punz takes the shovel again and digs the body out, a book and a flint and steel ready in his pocket when he drags the ruined body back to the surface and brings Dream back. they can continue their work, now, in hiding, far from the rest of the server despite their plan diverging with this sudden turn of events.

no one knows that Dream has been revived. no one but Punz.

so Sam and Quackity feel their throats close the next time they get a ping "Dream joined the server"

they just hope his ghost will have forgotten like Wilbur's did

[eerieonlakeerie]

The Ghost of General ‘Mad Anthony’ Wayne and his Missing Bones

Photos provided by: UnchartedLancaster.com

“Anthony Wayne was an American soldier, officer, and statesman during the Revolutionary War. His daring military exploits and fiery personality quickly earned him a promotion to brigadier general and the nickname “Mad Anthony.”

Wayne is probably the second most frequently sighted ghost on the East Coast. Second only to Abraham Lincoln. He is also the only Pennsylvanian known to have two separate graves, with body parts in both."

"George Washington considered Wayne to be one of the best tactical commanders and military strategists of the Revolution.

Wayne was born on January 1, 1745, near Paoli in Chester county. He received an excellent education and worked as a surveyor for Benjamin Franklin. When the Revolutionary War began, he assembled a militia and became colonel of the 4th Regiment in Pennsylvania. Wayne aided Benedict Arnold and saved Washington’s troops from a massacre at the Battle of Brandywine in September 1777.

Wayne was at Valley Forge during the winter of 1777-1778, where the Continental Army recouped and rested. Wayne led men to more victories when fighting resumed, including a decisive battle at Stony Point along the Hudson River.

After the war, Wayne settled in Georgia on land granted to him for his military service. He briefly represented Georgia in the House of Representatives before returning to the Army to accept command of U.S. forces in the Northwest Indian War. His forces defeated the Western Confederacy, an alliance of several Native American tribes, at the 1794 Battle of Fallen Timbers, and he masterminded the Treaty of Greenville, which ended the war.

Photo provided by: HistoryLink

Two years later, Wayne died on December 15, 1796, in Erie, Pennsylvania, at Fort Presque Isle while on active duty. He was 51.

Following his wishes, Wayne, wearing his uniform, was buried two days after his death in a plain wooden coffin at the foot of the flagstaff of the post’s blockhouse. The top of the coffin bore his initials, age, and the year of his death in brass tacks.

Had it not been for a strange twist of fate, “Mad Anthony” Wayne would have laid there in peace for eternity.

For 12 years, the remains of Wayne remained undisturbed in a plain grave. However, some thought his burial was not fitting for such a great war hero, and in 1809 Wayne’s family decided to bring him home to rest in St. David’s Church Cemetery closer to his home in Radnor Township, not far from Valley Forge.

When Wayne’s son Colonel Isaac Wayne had the coffin opened in Erie, everyone was shocked! Instead of a crumbling pile of bones, they found a body in an excellent state of preservation.

Isaac had come ill-prepared to move an entire body across the state.

A local physician, Dr. James Wallace, came up with a remedy. He suggested they put Wayne’s body in a large vat and boil it to separate the flesh from the bone.

The general’s flesh and clothing were reinterred beneath the blockhouse. Meanwhile, Isaac took his father’s bones in the back of a wagon and made the long 400-mile journey across the state along what is now U.S. Route 322.

This may be hard to believe, but Pennsylvanian roads were even worse in the early 1800s. They were bumpy paths full of rocks, ruts, and tree stumps.

When Isaac finally arrived at the gravesite and attempted to reassemble the skeleton, the family discovered to their horror that several of the bones were missing. It appeared that some of the bones had fallen out of the wagon while making the arduous trip across the commonwealth.

Isaac was greatly distressed by this turn of events and regretted his decision to disinter his father for the rest of his life.

After that, stories began to surface that every New Year’s morning, General “Mad Anthony” Wayne’s birthday, his ghost rises and begins the long journey on horseback from St. David’s to Erie and back in search of his missing bones. People along that route have insisted that a man clad in Colonial garb has been seen riding a horse and stopping if searching for something.

“Mad Anthony’s” ghost has been seen throughout Pennsylvania, including along Route 1 near Chadd’s Ford, where the Battle of Brandywine occurred and at Valley Forge National Park. There have also been sightings in New Jersey, New York, Virginia, and Canada.

Sometimes Wayne is astride his trusty steed Nab, described as possessing fire-flashing hoofs.

Whether alone or on horseback, Wayne’s ghost looks fierce and determined, as though he is still waging battles against the British and Germans.”

Story provided by: UnchartedLancaster.com

[monarch-afterdark]

Titan History: Tiamat

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

For today's communication, we find ourselves once more turning to the most recent Titan crisis, dedicating today's instalment of "Titan History" to a beast that has many people talking; the queen of the depths, Tiamat.

(Pictured above: An artistic piece depicting Tiamat on the mainland, created by former Outpost 53 operative Dope Pope)

Monarch Database File: Tiamat

Monarch Designation: Titanus Tiamat

Length: 847 feet

Weight: Unknown

Nature: Bio-Ultraviolet

Behavioural Classification: Destroyer

-----

Designated as "Titan 019" in Monarch's database, Tiamat was a colossal sea serpent, vibrant coloured scales and a bioluminescent frill granting her an almost hypnotising appearance as she cuts through the water. Those who studied her in Monarch Outpost 53 note her impressive ability to mimic the sounds of human voices. Though incapable of perfectly replicating speech, many of the outpost's staff recount being haunted by the sounds of her "Titansong".

The full extent of her abilities show Tiamat to be a true force of nature. She can blind opponents with a yellow phosphorus ink that manifests as a form of acidic breath, she possesses electrogenic cells that can manipulate electrical energy to such an extent that her storms can boil the ocean and generate steam trails that can be seen from space. Her underwater superiority rivals even that of Godzilla, able to generate maelstroms capable of dragging other Titans to the depths.

Prior to her final encounter with Godzilla, Tiamat was also shown to be capable of absorbing and generating massive amounts of energy through a natural radiation hotspot in the Arctic Circle, achieving an "evolved" state similar to what Godzilla would go on to gain for himself prior to engaging the Skar King and Shimo.

(Pictured above: Speculative artistic rendition of how Tiamat and Godzilla's Hollow Earth brawl in 2020 would have looked like, courtesy of Drew E. Johnson)

As is the case with most Titans on record, little is known about what Tiamat may have been doing prior to her containment by Monarch and awakening in 2019. It is known that, at some stage, Tiamat claimed a subterranean lair within the Hollow Earth as her domain, killing its previous occupant (an apparent ancestor to Kong), as well as various other Titans that attempted to rob her of what was her's. Drone exploration into this lair revealed a Titan graveyard of those likely slain by Tiamat, a Titanus Jinshin-Mushi Prime scattered among the remains was of particular note to Monarch.

At some stage, Tiamat would temporarily vacate this lair and make her way to Stone Mountain, Georgia, where she would later be contained by Monarch for further study.

Tiamat was part of the Titan legion awakened by Monster Zero in 2019, later pacified by the ORCA. Like most, she was not present for Godzilla's claim as Alpha Titan. She returned soon after to the lair she had claimed. Toward the end of 2020, Godzilla entered the Hollow Earth and, while Monarch are uncertain of the exact details, presumably fought with Tiamat over possession of the lair. As Tiamat was later observed leaving the Hollow Earth in search of a new home, it is clear Godzilla had emerged victorious.

(Pictured above: Drew E. Johnson's full-body sketch of Tiamat, part of a collection of drawing Titans he had been assigned to study)

Sometime before 2027, Tiamat would claim a natural radiation hotspot in the Arctic Circle, the largest known source on the planet, as her domain, resting within a particular glacier absorbing energy and building up her strength.

In 2027, while absorbing radiation to build his own strength for the coming conflict with the Skar King and Shimo, Godzilla hunted down Tiamat to her Arctic domain and attacked the glacier she was resting within to draw her out. Following a brief battle where both Titans seemed evenly matched, Godzilla fired a blast of atomic breath that tore through Tiamat's body and dismembered her. Godzilla then retreated into the glacier himself as Tiamat's remains floated to the surface.

-----

And there you go! Following news of her death, some in the public have expressed outcry over Godzilla's decision to kill her, noting that it seemed to break his pattern of only killing those who were an immediate threat to the balance of nature, and positing that Tiamat was simply keeping to herself and not being a threat.

While we cannot speculate how Godzilla truly thinks, what's done is ultimately done. Much as is the case with Scylla, this is all we can report on Tiamat unless either new findings come up or another of her species emerge.

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark

[st4rrmii]

The People have Spoken, here are my absolutely Baseless Ben Headcanons

(Cut because theres a lot)

-Has lower back dimples

-Is generally a "Will listen to anything" person, he started as a lil hater but eventually caved and realized that being a hater isn't fun (sometimes)

-Had a bunny growing up named Freckles

-His comfort food is his mom's homemade lasagna, she's make it for him whenever he had a bad day and it always makes him feel better

-Started going to public school after getting back to the mainland, but didn't really make any new friends because he was a hisser

-Can't grow facial hair, like the odd times he gets a stray hair but he's never been able to grow a proper beard or even mustache

-Not used to his height like, at all. Consistantly smacking his head on things.

-One of his favourite artists is Michael Jackson, and his favourite song is Dirty Diana

-Went for like a year with no clothes that fit him after his growth spurt, had maybe 2 pairs of pants he filtered through and any shirts he had fit him like a crop top. Brooklynn eventually caved and took him shopping for more clothes.

-Can secretly actually sing but like no one knows because whenever he sings in front of anyone its just for fun and therefore not his best work

-really good at chess???

-has freckles like everywhere, didn't have as many pre-nublar but they got 'worse' after the island due to the sun

-has a birth mark on his right hip that looks like a malformed heart

-(stealing this from a moot) likes bug shaped food like gummy worms and such

-Will eat out of a boot but won't touch vegetables with a ten foot pole

-The first time he broke a bone was after he got back to mainland and was playing with Bumpy, she knocked him down and he landed wrong and broke his pinky. Sammy does not let him live this down, ever.

-Daddy issues

-Can deal with bugs but has major arachnophobia, will freak out over a tiny spider. Would be horrendously fucked if Wu decided to make giant spiders.

-Spends a lot of time on his hair

-Used to be a mattress on the floor type of guy, luckily his dorm had a proper bed with a frame when he moved in (though prefers the floor mattress, tbh)

-Diagnosis cocktail I fear

-Gotten a little better at drawing with Yaz's help, though only at drawing dinosaurs, still not great at drawing humans

-Tried going to a bar with college friends for his 21st birthday, left the second an older woman started flirting with him

-has mimicking stims, will mimic things other people say or quotes he hears, was stuck saying "Ugh, as if" for months after Brooklynn made him watch clueless

-Says he's good with scary things but is the friend that clings onto whoever hes closest to in haunted houses

-Learned how to use a gun after nublar, doesn't carry or anything but he does have that skill in his back pocket if necessary

-Will buy literally anything that reminds him of Bumpy

-Terrible texter. Like absolutely ass.

-needs sound to sleep, as well as at least a little bit of light

-Sucks at math tbh

-Is the only one of the camp fam who's still ticklish, which makes him very vulnerable at times

-Lowkey king of puppy eyes

[a-aexotic]

half & half. part 002. previous

warnings ; mentions of being hurt, abuse, and taking of pain meds.

main masterlist. obx masterlist.

You sat on the beach, letting the sun kiss your body. Sunglasses on your face, you were trying to get the best tan possible this summer before you leave, making sure to remember the OBX sun. You were sure that the sun didn't hit the mainland as well as it did here.

After last night, you tried your best to forget everything you heard. You'd never seen them fight like that with people around before. They always fought when guests weren't around. You wondered what couldn't pissed off Ward that much for him to lose his shit like that.

You kept reminding yourself that it wasn't your business and that you didn't know the whole story. Part of you wanted to defend Rafe. He was still very smart and charming (at times) like Sarah. Sure, he was an asshole but no one deserves to hear that from their father.

Hearing that fight opened up some memories you were trying to suppress and it was really hard pushing them away right now. You didn't want this whole thing to consume you but it was getting really hard not to.

You heard some footsteps behind you and then you heard Kie's voice echo, "Y/N, do you want some ice cream?"

"Yeah, sure. Can you get me-"

"Chocolate with sprinkles, I know your order, Y/N. Don't worry."

You smiled to yourself at her words. Kie was nothing if not observant, she knew you the best out of the Pogues, probably even more than JJ at times.

You heard some shouting behind you and you immediately recognized it as the Pogues. They always made a ruckus, everywhere they went. If the pogues were around, you definitely could hear them.

You felt Kie sit down in the towel next to you, handing you the ice cream. You sat up and took it from her, taking a quick taste before humming in approval.

"Best ice cream ever." You mumbled as you ate the ice cream.

Kie nodded with your words, "Yeah, it's my favorite."

You both sat in comfortable silence as you watched JJ tackle down Pope as John B recorded as if it was the most normal thing to ever happen. You felt the sun hit your face in the best way possible and tried to bask in it.

You looked down in your lap before at Kie, "Hey, um... How do you feel about Rafe?"

"Like, Rafe Cameron?" She looked over at you, interested in your words.

You nodded.

"Well, he's an asshole and I'm like 99% sure he's a sociopath. Why? Did he do something to you?"

"No, no." You said quickly, making Kie furrow her brows. "It's just... Um... I was at the Cameron's last night." You felt Kiara's mood shift and you tried your best to ignore it. "And I heard his dad say some pretty harsh things and he saw me and now I feel bad, I feel like I should've said something."

Kiara exhaled and laid back down. "No. Don't feel bad, it's none of your business and you couldn't have done anything to stop it. Rafe is a tough guy, he can handle himself."

You nodded at Kie's unhelpful advice. You sighed inwardly before sitting back down, trying to focus back up on tanning.

You drove all the Pogues back home and you were just left with your thoughts. The memories of when you were back with JJ's dad had come back to haunt you once again, no matter how hard you tried to drown them out. Even after all these years they still have the same effect they on you.

"You stupid boy!" Luke grabbed 6 year old JJ by the collar and threw him on the ground. He had sent JJ to go get some cigarettes from the store and they said they couldn't sell to him anymore because he hadn't paid his tab in two months. "Useless boy, all you ever do is make trouble, huh?"

He landed a punch in JJ's stomach and Y/N had finally had enough, running from the porch to grab JJ. "Stop! Stop it, you're hurting him!"

JJ was crying at that point and you were trying your best to hold in your tears. Luke had turned to you and grabbed your arm tightly.

"You think you're all tough now, huh, little bitch? Just like your mother?" Luke spat as you looked straight in his eyes, trying not to break your faux confidence. He landed a loud slap to your face. He pushed you away and you landed on the floor, hitting your back really hard.

You saw that Luke had went to JJ again and you couldn't help but let out a loud scream, grabbing the nearest stick and started charging towards him.

You jolted back into reality once you heard a car beep and you looked at the stop light turning green. You stepped on the gas and drove away. You needed some time to think and decided going back to the beach was the best idea.

You sat at the beach for what seems like hours before you felt like you were tired enough to go back home. Plus, you had work early tomorrow morning and staying up late wasn't the best idea.

You start walking to your car and you see something moving in your prereferral vision, causing you to whip your head around. You see what seems like a person, lying on the ground.

Your heart dropped and you started weighing down your options: leave them or go and see if they need help. If you left, you could leave a hurt person all alone or maybe it's a scheme so that someone could hurt you.

You heard a loud groan and then you realized you couldn't live with yourself if you just left them. You walked towards the person and your eyes widened in surprise once you realized who it was.

"Rafe?"

He was on his side, holding onto his stomach in pain. You surveyed his face and he had a very prominent black eye. He smelled like liquor so you knew he'd been drinking, which was nothing new.

You immediately bent down to hold his face to see if he was concious and he looked like he was on the verge of passing out. "Rafe, hey, look. I'm here, just keep listening to my voice, okay? I'm gonna get you out of here." You assured.

You slowly turned him around to his back, causing him to let out another loud groan. He was deadweight at this point so you needed to get him conscious if you were going to get him out of the beach and to safety.

"Rafe." You spoke again, leaning down to face to look at him. "Rafe, hey, come on, wake up. Please." You suddenly felt the urgency and started to lose your calm. What if he was in a coma? It looked like he hit his head pretty hard.

"Rafe! Hey, come on, man. Wake up, Rafe. You're okay, just come on, come back to me, come back." You were babbling at that point, trying to get him to respond to your voice in any way.

He suddenly grabbed your arm and you yelped in surprise. Relief spread through your body as he slowly started to come back. He fluttered his eyes open slowly.

"Y/N?"

"Rafe, listen, I don't know if you rememeber how you ended up here but uh, let's just focus on getting you back home."

He started to shake his head profusely, "No. Not home, anywhere but home, please Y/N."

Your heart started to ache at the sound of that. You don't know what exactly happened but if you had to guess, it had something to do with his dad.

"Okay, Rafe. Not home. Just help me get you up, alright?"

He nodded. You got up and gave him your hand and he gripped it before dragged him up. He could stand but his legs were still wobbly. You then put his arm over your shoulder and you both slowly started walking to your car.

You helped him get in the passenger seat and you put on his seatbelt for him. You got in the front seat and started driving home. You hoped that you parents weren't awake or you would have a lot to explain.

You looked over at Rafe every few to make sure he was alright. He fell asleep slowly and silently hoped he didn't have a concussion. You arrived home sooner than you expected and got out of the car, helping Rafe to get into your house.

Thankfully your parents were asleep, so you quietly helped Rafe up the stairs. He seemed to be getting better, more conscious. You then opened your bedroom door and helped him in your bed.

He immediately laid down and sighed in content. You started walking out of the room before he stopped you.

"Where are you going?" Rafe's voice echoed. You turned around and looked at the boy; he was sitting up and he looked like he was wincing. You walked over back to him and shook your head.

"I'm gonna get some pain meds. You just comfortable, okay?"

Before he could protest you quickly walked away, walking out into your big home to try and find some ibuprofen. You found it in the medicine cabinet, you also grabbed a bottle of water and a banana before returning to him. He hadn't known if he'd eaten that night and you wanted to make sure the medicine went down easy.

You went back to see that Rafe was fully in your bed now, laying down with an arm on his forehead. He turned his head to you once he heard the door open.

You moved to sit by him and handed him banana, putting the water and medicine on the nightstand. He looked confused and held back a chuckle.

"Eat the banana first then we'll take the medicine, alright?" You explained. As he ate the banana, you found yourself wanting to ask what happened. You knew it was too early though, and again, it wasn't your business. Your curiosity got the best of you though.

"How'd you end up at the beach so late at night?" You asked and Rafe got visibly more tense as he shifted. He shook his head and looked down.

"Doesn't matter." He replied shortly.

That wasn't the answer you were looking for but you weren't going to nag. Plus, you already had an idea of what happened and that made you sick enough. After he finished the banana you gave him the water and he gulped down half the bottle.

You handed him two ibuprofens and he took them as well. He sighed in relief once he downed them. You examined Rafe; he was sitting on top the comforter.

"Hey, can you get up for a sec?"

Rafe shifted before nodding, getting up and grabbing a pillow. You furrowed your eyebrows, "What's that for?"

"I'm gonna sleep on the floor."

You shook your head, "No. I'm not making you do that, we can sleep in the same bed. It's big enough."

Rafe opened his mouth to protest but you responded with a look of reassurance. "It's not we haven't before."

Rafe smiled at the memory as you lifted the comforter.

The Cameron's and your family went on a camping trip a few years back and you, Sarah and Rafe had to share a small tent for the trip. It was the only time all three of you went along and Rafe wouldn't admit this to anyone, but it was the most actual fun he'd have in years. He didn't even have to drink or to smoke anything for it to be enjoyable for him.

Rafe got into bed and you did soon after him, closing the lights. You tried to fall asleep but you just couldn't, the thought of Rafe being so close to you made your heat speed up. You had no idea why it did that, it wasn't like you liked Rafe. That would be a nightmare waiting to happen. 'It's just because it's been a while since we've had a boy (other than JJ) in this bed' You reassured yourself but it did little to nothing to.

Rafe shifted so that his face was facing you. He was just as awake as you were; even after the chaos that ensued tonight he still couldn't manage to sleep, but that wasn't anything new for him. You felt him staring at you and you turned your face to look at him. You could see him quite throughly because of the moonlight that was shining inside from your window.

"Thank you."

His voice was soft but it made your night to hear it. You smiled, "Of course."

He turned back around on his back and you both laid in silence. You tried to fall asleep with no avail. As Rafe began to drift to sleep, you felt something move from inside the sheets.

Rafe's hand moved on top of yours, lacing his fingers with yours. He gave your hand a heartening squeeze. You didn't try to stop it, just let it be. It was the comfort he needed after a long night.

You couldn't stop your heart from speeding up, though. His hands weren't as rough as JJ's, you note to yourself. They were soft but big and warm. The more you focused on his hand, the more tired you became. And before you knew it, you drifted off to sleep.

[mrgladstonegander]

MORE BOOTLEG DUCKTALES ‼️team science (oops! all identity issues!) edition

team magic here

archimedes gallas / gyro = more like other versions where he's nice but this man is carrying SOOOO much guilt. insane amounts. his entire character is focused on how much his self-worth is down the drain (also hes being haunted by the narrative (phoebe/della)). also he's half japanese. based off the onagadori

cherry pekin / huey = has a similar problem to archie where she has overwhelming feelings of needing to seem mature, and responsible, where she overworks herself

sydney eggtooth-diazi / fenton = REALLYY wants to seem like a Professional Normal Dude. repressing EVERY urge to wear silly ties. sees morality in a black and white sort of way and it WILL cause problems later. he puts archie on a pedestal and its super obvious and it just makes archie more mentally ill

salem milly / gandra = planning to really lean into how she joined fowl bc they were the only ones that supported her. mainly the contrast with how the Main Family supports each other with unconditional love, the love she has is purely conditional, and she's constantly convincing herself that she Wants to do bad things, and that she doesnt care about these people, because despite how she says she only listens to herself, shes stuck to FOUL, and thats her 'family'. based on mille fleur d'uccle

frankie loon / fethry = IT IS PART OF TEAM SCIENCE‼️ after getting back to mainland after being alone at sea for four years, he joins as a janitor. pulling back the marine biology in the sense that he is interested in EVERYTHING. man of a 10000 copies. winning the idgaf war (DOES care abt how his family is disinterested in his interests but its FINE because HE cares its fine its fine. he's accepted he'll be alone). its presence WILL send everyone else into a shock about their identity. hopefully it'll happen vice versa as well

widget-time-tech / widget / gizmoduck / lil bulb = theyre being consolidated and also theyre lil bug guys now!! i dont care if you hate bugs theyre cute as shit!! widget is Usually in the little ball, but also helps control the suit with sydney. it still has anger issues so it'll make things harder for sydney rather than just silly incompetence. and it was DEFINENTLY made to be a superhero ai. no other purposes. at all. certainly not messing with the fabric of time. just helping the ppl of the town :)

mad clucktor / mad clucktor = iwhile he IS a villain he isn't necessarily a bad person. hes a physical manifestation of the part of archie that WANTS to be alive! that KNOWS his worth! he doesn't have to work himself to death to make up for his guilt!

and he's the reason why toby is even active. why he's back

toby / boyd = cannot be normal abt this sorry

he was made to be archie's idea of the "perfect boy". the perfect kid. what he wants to be what he WISHED he would be growing up. hes happy, he can do everything right, he's intelligent, he's strong. his existence is free of human doubt and anxiety, he's the perfect boy and if he was in archie's place everything would be fine

but it isnt! he gets used! toby's used for evil through no fault of his own. but he becomes a symbol of things that are "wrong" about archie. toby didn't resent anyone or be upset with how people treat him. toby doesnt have his own needs. he can do whatever people need him to do. toby was his symbol of hope but becomes a symbol of how everything with him goes wrong. he becomes an unachievable goal that archie is trying to be to make up for the existence of toby!!

and so the only way for either of them to be "truly human" is when archie learns that he doesn't have to be perfect. he never had to be. even if he's made mistakes, he still deserves to LIVE!! he doesn't have to hide his pain and discomfort for anyone!! and its okay for toby to be toby!

[habit-poxly]

father neptune (pt.1)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader 

sea monster-hunter au!

description: Ghost is a crew member aboard the Bravo 141, a large sea monster hunting ship with decades of battle experience. Upon docking in a small, remote island the crew of the ship are warned by the locals of a spirit that wanders the beach at night- waiting to drag unsuspecting passersby into the depths of the ocean. Disregarding the villagers cautions, they stay the night; unknowingly invading another ghosts haunting ground. 

warnings: alcohol, no sea monsters in this pt >:( , harpoon, strong horror elements 

word count: 4.1k

masterpost | Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt.3 

The year is 1809. Simon Riley -better known as 'The Ghost of the Sea' by other monster-hunting vessels- was a member of the crew on the Bravo 141, a large three-mass ship. In the earlier years of the vessel Simon and his crew would be out for months, travelling the open waters in search of high-bounty kills. Yet over the past couple of years, after the loss of crew, friends and family over and over, after the deep wounds that have changed the survivor's bodies forever, after taking beatings and battering- the crew had decided to begin to slow down. Their once bustling crew now reduced to just four: Captain Price, Ghost, Gaz and Soap. It was more honest work now, mostly just drifting their large hunting ship up and down the coastline looking for creatures that wandered too far in; nothing like the massive firefights and battles of their heyday.  

As of recently they had been using the same route, taking them sailing into the same small port village for minimal supplies and trading every journey- It had been the Captain's favourite stop and it was not difficult to see why. The coastline would dip and rise, falling into beautiful rocky beaches and climbing into sharp, nearly completely vertical cliff faces. The out of place looking dock was wonderfully maintained and big enough for them to dock, the small bay it rested in deep and void of undercurrents. The lighthouse was always in working order despite the Bravo 141 being the only ship to regularly pass through other than a few small personal vessels. Inside the village was quaint- only a hand full of buildings scattered distantly across the hilly, grassy landscape. The crew only ever saw a handful of people about- there was almost always a few men in the pub, maybe they'd see one or two men walking through the winding dirt road that lead from the dock into the village centre, but never any children or women- always just older men. They had found it odd, yet they were so few people living in this area the crew had presumed the men shipped their families off for education on the mainland- or perhaps none of these men had anyone at all. 

They had never stayed for more than a few hours during daylight, never having needed to do anything except resupply and head to the dusty pub. The old men inside would tell tall tales on end of a ghost that haunts the coast, walking up and down the beach with a lantern in hand looking for men to drag into the sea to claim for her own. No man on their small crew of 4 was superstitious despite their odd profession- the only ghost they knew to be real was the Ghost who draws their sails, aims their harpoons, and sleeps soundlessly in his bunk. The local's warnings went firmly unheeded by the experienced monster hunters, quickly being discounted as fiction and promptly made fun of, becoming something of an inside joke amongst the crew. After all, they had faced beasts larger then their ship- no ghost, no woman, no chance of death was anything to fear.

After a particularly gruelling chase and fight, the ship had come up empty-handed. The giant, grey monster they had wrapped in their net managing to wiggle free and dive back down into the deep, refusing to resurface. The creature itself hadn't caused any incidents yet- but was massively large with thick rows of razor-sharp teeth, a beast deserving of a hefty bounty. They had suffered three weeks of tracking, chasing and running in circles only to limp back to the only port near empty-handed was a unignorable blow to the crew. The journey home would be long and tedious, far too long to not rest beforehand. Yet the closest large port was days away in Dublin-  in the opposite direction of London, where they were located. It was a simple decision, they'd stay in port for a few nights- possibly a few weeks if they could find a bed in town- and enjoy the peace of the cliffside while they recuperate. 

Sunday evening air blew a chilled but comfortable breeze over the ocean, the ship softly bobbing up and down in the calm water of the bay. As night fell, the men gathered on the ship's front bow for a few drinks as they did often, looking out into the pitch-black landscape ahead of them. They had gone into town earlier in the evening to head to the pub- only to find it closed and the town completely dark. It appeared that all the villagers had turned their lights out the moment darkness had settled over the landscape. 

"It's odd, yeah? They must really believe this place is haunted." Gaz hummed, swirling a glass of whiskey in hand as he leaned over the ship railing. The group of men had long abandoned properly putting on their gear, settling for tunics, breeches and leather boots- all except Soap who still managed to pull enjoyment out of dressing extravagantly. 

"Turnin' out all their lights like that is making it worse. They're scarin' themselves." Price quips with a scoff, drunkenly slurring his words "Hysterical, the lot of em" With a wave of his hand he refills his own glass and takes a long sip. Simon could swear the drink in his hand had to be his 5th or 6th since they started- everyone else having had about the same. It wasn't uncommon to see the men aboard heavily intoxicated while no work needed to be done, it happened almost every evening recently in fact. There were never any conversations over sensitive topics, everything felt far too tender, and drinking was the welcomed substitution. 

"Even if there was a lass walkin' up the beach lookin' for poor bastards to drag in- they could just not go to the beach at night, right?" A wide, cocky grin stretches across Soap's face at his words, face flushed red from the booze. "Would solve the whole issue... And they can keep the lights on." 

Simon had half been paying attention to the conversation happening beside him, his focus mainly on the swishing of the liquid in his cup. The whole thing was ridiculous to him, anyways. Giving it any thought at all was a waste of energy, yet the others had been speaking endlessly about it. Out of habit, he readjusts the piece of cloth covering the lower half of his face- messy blond hair sticking up in every direction. Perhaps that's why Gaz and Soap had insisted they had drinks on deck tonight- to watch for the ghost. Simon guesses Price was just as interested- as he did nothing to stop it, even bringing out his nice whiskey glasses. The only light for miles was what was softly radiating off the lanterns and candles scattered across the vessel, making focusing on anything but the black outline of a shore and waves very difficult. During the evenings when the moon is covered, the ocean swallows any light, making everything below a pitch-black void.

"Can't be that simple, bastards must have a reason to be actin' this way." Ghost grunts taking a swig from his glass, eyes fixating on the ground. The ship's floorboards creaked under his weight as he shifted, leaning his back against the ship railing. 

"Wait- fuck. Look." Gaz loosens the collar of his red tunic and points down the shore to a small, glowing yellow dot. "Someone's on the beach with a lantern all the way down there- didn't even see it 'till now" Gaz announces, gathering everyone's attention to where he was looking. About 500 yards from the ship was the soft silhouette of a woman- wearing a long, loose white dress that hung heavy from the waist down with water. The light from the flame inside wasn't enough to shape any distinct features from her- just her clear outline. She wasn't facing them, not at the moment, her gaze was turned out to sea- ankle-deep in the no doubt freezing ocean water. 

"Someone's fucking with us. One of those bastards from the pub." Soap grumbles, his body leaning over the boat in an attempt to get a better look. Price nodded, taking another long sip. 

For a moment Simon can see why the people in town would be frightened, seeing her there was certainly jarring against the jagged black rocks and swirling waves. She looked like a woman, a real, human woman standing in ankle-deep water.

"I don't think so." Simon says, voice deep and tense. Shuffling closer to the edge he focuses on the figure. Silence falls over the crew as she takes another step deeper into the water, it reaches up to her knees now. The bottom of her loose white dress bubble to the surface- riding on top of the waves. 

She wasn't bothering them, nor had she called out for their attention in any way, she was just standing on the beach alone. Maybe she was a real person who was just someone who liked to linger, or maybe she was a ghost- haunting the beach waiting for one of them to drunkenly wander to her so she can take them away.

"Creepy." Gaz hum's, leaning back onto the ship. "If she gets any closer I'm going to shit my pants." The men chuckle, quickly brushing off the instance as all three turn back to the table on the deck. Quickly the topic is discarded, the group arriving at the conclusion that it was nothing worth worrying about. The men begin a game of cards, enjoying the pleasant evening and indulging in, even more, liquor- yet Simon can't help but stay glued to the railing watching the woman in the water. After a few moments still, she takes a few steps back onto the beach, the sound of the metal clanks from the lantern managing to reach the ship. There she stays, feet planted to the ground facing the open ocean. 

Loud laughter busts out behind him, the smell of liquor wafting over the ship as the volume increases. Ghost nearly flinches when he watches the woman's head snap towards him, her gaze no doubt locked on his form. She raises her hand and turns off the flickering blaze- plunging the beach back into complete darkness, shielding her completely. If she hadn't been aware they were watching her, she was now. He straightens, eyes running over the dark area in an attempt to catch her figure again; yet he doesn't. No shadows of movement flicker, no sounds of footsteps are heard, it was as if she had simply vanished from her spot. 

"She's gone." Simon said flatly turning back to the group, he hears Soap choking down a hardy laugh as he hiccups. "Like she walked away?" He asks, Scottish accent thick with drunkenness. 

"No. She turned the light off. I can't see her anymore." He replies sternly hands gripping the railing in front of him tightly. It was worth no mental energy, he had told himself, yet still, he sat there with eyes mulling over the dark evening for the ghost's figure. 

"Creepy!" Gaz says again shaking his head, the three men glance at Price who simply shrugs. "Suppose we could head down and see." 

Gaz and Soap visibly tense, quickly exchanging glances. "All of us, Captian?" Gaz asks. 

Once again he shrugs. "Doubt it's anything more than a woman on an evening walk, I'd like to get out for a walk myself." He says placing down his glass and beginning to walk to the main floor of the ship to disembark, he wobbled slightly in his steps- yet it was nothing anyone was worried about, the rest of them were nearing that point themselves.

The three other men quickly grab their things, following the Captian wherever he decides to take them. Soap had grabbed a harpoon while exiting the ship, earning a stern look from both John and Simon. Silently, the men made their way down the dock and onto the empty beach. From this vantage point, the ground was much clearer, yet still far from perfectly visible. 

" 'right." Price grunts, adjusting his light and turning in the direction they had seen the woman. A thick fog had seemed to begin to quickly rush in covering the path ahead in a thick sheet of it. "Why'd you bring that stupid harpoon anyways?" He raises an eyebrow, half turning to the man behind him. Price was leading the way, followed shortly by Gaz and Soap and lastly Ghost lingering behind at the back. The sound of boots displacing the rocks that covered the ground echoed off the tall wall-like cliff beside them. If she wasn't wearing shoes Simon doubts they'd be able to hear her footsteps- and that was more than likely. 

" 's for protection!' Soap held it up proudly, earning a chuckle from the group.

"From the ghost? That'll come in real handy." Simon grumbles and rolls his eyes, Soap stopped and turned back to him- it only takes a few moments for the two to meet and begin walking together. 

"Only you said it might be a ghost, Ghost." The man smirks, fixing his gaze back on Price.

"Didn't think you were the faithful type, Simon." John muses- a large, drunken grin steadfast across his face-, holding the small light strong in front. Simon wasn't faithful- sure: he had been raised protestant, had gone to church every Sunday his parents made him, had been a choir boy at the city chapel, but he was never faithful. The word held no meaning to him, he had seen the sea swallow many good, capable men,-in his youth he had prayed to women, to bourbon, to money and what it could buy but the only god he prayed to nowadays was Father Neptune. Silent prayers for safe passage leaving every dock, every harbour. No one knows he does it but him, but Simon was never 'faithful', or at least he'd never admit it out loud. 

Yet, clearly, someone haunts these shores. His personal stalking ground was elsewhere- just beyond the breaking waves not two meters from him. This was someone's place they came to pray, he was sure of it. He had hoped their God had been merciful to them, but their pacing of the shore begged to tell a different, more unsettling story. What pain must they have gone through to be so tortured? No person could force him to suffer a fate as he imagines hers to have been- perhaps her story had concluded, and she was left scattered in the aftermath. A ghost like him was difficult to come by, regardless of if they were of the flesh. 

" 'm not." He replies sternly, it was more than controversial to not follow the crown faith, especially after the rise of Napoleon, yet all men who stepped onto the deck of a hunting vessel such as their own would no doubt leave an atheist. Simon had lost his faith long before that ship, though; it dwindled over time as experience after experience cast chisel marks into the stone. 

"But you believe in ghosts?" Gaz quips, chuckling softly. Simon shakes his head, deciding to end the conversation where it stood. 

As the group slowly stumbled further down the beach, it was clear inebriation had begun to make the trek undoable, Soaps steps swaying- feeling slipping over the large rocks that bade the beach- Price and Gaz were not much better. Simon hadn't drunk nearly as much, feeling far more capable here than the others must have. 

Suddenly, Price stops and motions for them to be quiet, causing the men behind him to go rigid. Almost instantly upon the silence settling over them, they heard it. 

Coming loudly from a dark dip in the rock face ahead echoed soft, haunting cry’s- a woman's voice spattered and sobbed, merciless noises racking from the cave and bouncing down the beach. It was as if she was in agony, as if she had lost something so unbelievably valuable to the dark waters that she would never recover, she would walk in mourning forever. The wailing grows louder the more small steps forward Price takes sending shivers down the spines of the men. 

"Hello?" He drunkenly calls out, receiving no response. The crying doesn't fade, instead staying at the same level of distress. John calls out again, this time a decent bit louder while taking a few steps closer. 

"You 'right?" Soap screams louder, his voice bouncing off the walls of the cliffside and bringing the crying to a sudden stop. After shooting Soap sharp glances the men sit in dark silence for more than a comfortable amount of time- frozen, waiting for any other noise. But when none come Price scoffs. 

"This is definitely someone fucking with us, Cap." Gaz asserts, taking a wide step back in the direction of the boat. "Let's just go." His face quickly dissolved into a look of worry, he moves to grip the Captain's shoulder with his hand but Price takes a staggered step back. 

" 's not a thing to worry about, son." The man shakes his head and takes a few more steps toward the cove. 

Simon steps forward, walking after John slowly. "Come on, let's go." There was a threatening tone to his voice. Gaz and him exchanged looks, both now suffering from the same sinking feeling. "John, come on." Simon says again, it coming out as a plea this time, Price now walking full speed towards the entrance to the cove, light held out in front of him. 

The three men paused as John stood outside the entrance, placing his lantern down onto the beach he calls into the cave again, receiving yet again no response. Simon watches him place his two hands on the rock walls of the cove and lean his head in to look around. 

"You 'right in there, love?" Price slurs out. For a moment, theres nothing- no noise, no movement, just the crashing of the waves and the breeze through the rocks. 

Two hands shoot out from the darkness of the cove, violently shoving John's chest. Frantically he slaps the hands away and lets out a loud, terrified scream  and sending him reeling back. The hands retreat back into the darkness, the sound of footsteps echoing from inside stop as suddenly as they start. Price falls onto the rocks with a loud thud, eyes wide and face panicked- he isn't on the ground for more then a second before he begins sprinting back in the direction boat, running straight past the group and losing both loosely tied boots in the process. Gaz and Soap are quick to follow, immediately retreating with the Captain with frantic screams. In the panic the Harpoon clinks to the ground, abandoned. The footsteps fade as they disappear into the fog- not even the light from the ship was visible anymore.

Simon, though, had remained locked in place, eyes fixed on the cove's entrance. He had seen his crew scared, he had seen these men say final goodbyes to each other on rough missions, had seen them face death and accept it, yet this had terrified them. Sent them running with tails between their legs. It was the booze, Simon told himself, the booze they drank at nausea every night finally driving them all mad. He had no reason for staying, no reason for standing motionless and weaponless outside the cave in wait, his breath ragged and heart thumping in his ears. 

Slowly the crying begins again, sniffles growing to silent sobs.

"Leave now aswell, Man." The woman’s voice staggered out through hiccuped breaths. Despite the demand, her voice sat hollow and soft- only audible due to the echo of the cliffside. "Less I drag you into the deep." Her words seemed unsure, as if she staggered over saying them.

"You'll drown me?" Simon takes another step forward, as if guided to her by her voice- as if she was pulling a string attached to him and dragging him forward. 

"Begone, Ghost." The woman's gentle voice pleaded. 

"Me? I? The ghost? Out of the two of us?" He muses, a nervous smirk settling across his covered features. "Only you haunt these beaches, only your lantern lights these shores, you are the ghost. You've earned the title far more than I." 

"Leave me be, sailor, I beg." Her voice tightened as he further approached, not deterring his speed. "You'll be cursed if you come any closer, I'll swear it!" She began to sputter another sob, the sound of which echoed down the length of the beach. By the time she had finished and Simon had paused it was too late, him standing beside the small entrance- close enough to rest the bare palm of his hand against the cool rock. 

"I am cursed." He huffs, the scent of booze wafted off of him. Simon stood in spot for a moment, thinking over the night's events as clearly as he could. "Tell me 'ghost', what will you do if I've always been cursed?" He hum's, a drunken smile plastering his face.  

The crying quiets at his statement, leaving only the sound of the gentle evening waves in its wake. 

"I'm sorry you have always been cursed." The voice responds, tenderly, far too tenderly to be meant for him. 

The salty night air blew easily threw his thin clothes- the oceans breeze nipping at the little skin he had exposed. Distantly, a panicked voice calls his name- Price, he imagines; finally sobered up enough to realize the possible severity of the situation. Turning back his eyes scan over the still lingering fog. 

What was he even still doing here?

Why had his feet remained in place- why had he been drawn into her? Why did he want to stay? 

A sudden wave of nausea washes over him, his face suddenly heating and his gut turning in his body unbearably. Turning back, as if broken from a spell, his feet move on their own- sending him barreling down the beach towards the Captain's increasingly frantic yells. In what felt like a blurry instant, Simon was hung over the balcony of the boat, the evening's dinner -a worrying amount of alcohol- lost to the ocean tide. Soap had rushed to his side, Gaz tending to Price who was currently sprawled out on his back across the main deck. 

"Fuck! Fuck." Soap grunted. "What the fuck was that? Ghost, what happened?!" His voice was frantic, clearly having sobered up the most out of all of them. 

"I don't- I-" Regardless of how hard he fought, how hard he tried to formulate a proper sentence- he just couldn't. Vomit stained the front of his black tunic, face covering abandoned somewhere on the ship deck

"You broken?" Soap asks, the worry on his face melting into a strained smile as Simon shakes his head no. Soap patted him on the back before turning his attention to the -now passed out- Captain. The four of them managed to hobble into the sleeping quarters and retire safely for the evening- not before Soap pulled the plank they used to exit the boat off the dock. 

When the sun rose, the men were up as always. There was a brief discussion of the previous night's events, but with Simon and Price's aversion to speaking about it Soap and Gaz quickly stopped asking questions. The line of conversation concludes with Price grumbling about losing his boots. Swearing obscenities and curses non-stop. Apparently that morning he had gone down to the shore himself and found nothing, not a trace of anyone had been there. Of them nor a woman. He had said to Simon in private that the tide must have eaten everything, yet Simon knew Price well enough to tell something was bothering him about it. 

In spite of hangovers, the crew went about their daily business of upkeep and cleaning, quickly deciding to visit the pub as soon as it opened. By the time they were staggering back to the ship, it was well past 7 in the evening; with the sun about half an hour from setting, the men had felt silently rest assured of their eventless walk through the beach. As the group approaches the dock, they notice Price's pace in front begins to slow to a halt. 

"Captian?" Gaz calls, eyes scanning Price. Yet, the captain's eyes stay coldly locked onto the dock. 

Pushing past Soap, Simon takes a few steps closer, eyes intently trailing Price's gaze. There, on the top step of the dock, were Price's boots and lantern- shoelaces tied and delicately placed. The men stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, the captain's gaze intensely glaring down the dock. 

After a deep breath in, the captain lets out a strained chuckle, the crow's feet beside his eyes wrinkling under the forced smile. He turns his gaze to Gaz, who looks down the dock with a confused look. 

"You're right-" Price strains, smile draped across his face yet eyes void of such emotion. "Creepy."

Soap pushes forward, being the first to approach the dock. 

"The harpoon is still missing." He notes, turning back to face the group. The captain's lips pull into a tight frown before nodding and beginning to walk to the dock himself. 

Regardless of their previous plan- Simon imagines they'll be back in London sooner than they had anticipated. 

taglist: @blueoorchid @@hoe4myers @yjhariani -luvurwriting @lexi-zsy09 @galaxieshearme

[odditycircus-2002]

That one scene in Ponyo where the giant glowing sea goddess comes out of the depths to look to see her human husband who looks so fucking tired as hell inspired an idea of Good Titan Medusa Reader getting approached by her timelines version of Shang Tsung whose an scientist looking for an mysterious island that he has heard rumors about, as he keeps going he stumbles across Medusa reader after accidentally waking her up after disturbing her sleep

Ponyo was the first Ghibli Studio movie I ever saw!😄😄😄😄 So I love that movie!

Consider that this version of Medusa!Reader resembles that of Cala Maria from Cuphead, not only in appearance but similar abilities. So people aren’t exactly under immediate threat to be turned into stone when they look at her eyes, unless she wants it to be.

As for Shang Tsung, he was on boat on an excursion to find the fire mentioned island for its knowledge and secrets it may hold, as it was once the site for a city of powerful Sorcerers who one day cut the island off from the mainland to guard their secrets. It’s said the seas around the island are filled with some of the most dangerous and bewildering sea beasts known in existence. Yet, so far, he hasn’t faced any of said beasts and the weather has been rather pleasant as of late. The waves were gently crashing against the hull of Shang Tsung’s boat and the wind carried the smell of sea breeze.

However, as the sun sets on the ocean’s horizon, he did find it peculiar that the waters his ship enters are rather dark as if there’s a great structure beneath his boat as far as he can see. The waves seemed a bit bumpier here and the waters more shallow as Shang Tsung can hear his boat scrapping against something hard, that reminds him of something similar to a feline scratching wood amplified. Causing him to grit his teeth from the thought of any damage happening to the hull.

When the sun dips completely behind the horizon, the water beneath him starts glow green and turquoise in an almost haunting display of bioluminescence. Wait was that an eye Shang Tsung saw open? Then he saw another and another, and dozens more of those yellow eyes with skits for pupils. Shang Tsung stumbles backwards as those eyes reveal themselves to be giant snakes rising from the ocean from all sides of his boat, causing to rock hard enough that the man had to grab on to the railings to not fall off. Just as the man begins to pant heavily in mounting panic, his gaze then falls upon the biggest eyes directly in front of him. However, unlike the snakes surround him, this one belonged to a humanoid face. A rather beautiful, if not in an unconventional way, if Shang Tsung is being honest with himself.

Her, or at least Shang presumes that you’re a her, is reptilian in appearance with prominent scaled ridges around your brow, contrasting against your soft looking facile shape. You direct your attention to the small man that woke you from your slumber, blinking groggily with your second set of eyelids. You give the man a slight irritated look with your head tilted in curiosity. “Why did you wake me from my slumber?”

[miralyk]

love the drawings you've been making for desmond and alex, what's ghosts in the machine? first i see them crawling out of your screen and now everyone's angels devils or monsters, i don't know if i'm missing something!

ah man, think it's time to try to summarize everything and apologize LMAO;; ty for asking though, i should've made things less confusing! this will be a Pretty lengthy post for irl context/backstory and "actual au" info so be ready if you want to read everything!

(for starters, the title's just a pun on the philosophical phrase "ghost in the machine" interpreted Literally and taking inspiration from clay in ac revelations, since he Was a ghost in a machine and jokingly called "my guardian angel" by des, haha)

the short version: basically, "ghosts in the machine" is what i've called the au(?) where i just doodle silly "artist talking to her art muse(s)" stuff like these kinds of comics instead w me,, the ""art muse"" is whatever i'm hyperfixated on (currently desmond, the assassin brotherhood as a whole, and alex/prototype lmao):

the Full LONG version: when replaying prototype and ac awhile back, i also posted fanart on LOFTER (china’s local version of tumblr) and made a mainlander mutual/friend who drew fanart too, like her oc w the assassins in an animal shapeshifter 刺客信条乙女向 (assassin’s creed otome) au! as i’m vietnamese-american and she’s chinese, we use translators and send pictures/doodles to talk about the games and our days, and when i was replaying prototype, she started ac2 too and sent me this as commentary:

from there, whenever we’d text or send pics/art, it became a running joke of sorts to also include our ""game companions"" like that fanfiction thing of “author’s note where the author and fictional characters comment on the situation and/or talk to each other”, and my doodles also became us or our computers being accompanied by them LMAO;; that’s pretty much the origin and setting of the particular doodles; just the daily shenanigans and art struggles of an artist (me and her) talking to their art muses (characters from special interests) haunting them and their computers

as for the "supernatural" aspects, at some point desmond and alex got drawn an as angel and devil because i’ve had ridiculous “protected by a guardian angel” luck lately like surviving a car crash unharmed, they’re my favorites and associated with me, the motifs match the duo, etc, it's not really that deep and/or for a "Lore Reason";;

likewise, the brotherhood got drawn as ghosts to emphasize the “we/our computers are haunted by them” joke more, along with how my friend and i are both asian and used to like ghosts and ancestral worship casually being a part of our lives already LMAO (ig in the context of the au then, they’re basically desmond’s ancestral spirits disney-mulan-style that freeload off of his vietnamese protectee (me) for both spiritual veneration or "worship" like staying relevant in this modern age via fanart)

for example, i'm also considering drawing like altair, ezio, connor, and edward as the vietnamese four holy beasts just to play around, things like that! there's no special lore reason aside from just personal thoughts and "oh that'd be fun to draw", they just thematically fit well being four prominent “legends” and being desmond's ancestors, etc,, haha

at the end of the day, "ghosts in the machine" are just silly shenanigans of me drawing what's on my mind, from who/what i'm hyperfixated on (aka impromptu art muses for me), any thoughts/frustrations i have w daily life or drawing stuff,, and "hm this sounds cool, i could draw this design or Cool Thing" stuff. it's not really an au persay (plus i still really cringe and feel self-consciously wary about the embarrassing self-insert aspect of all this, help lmao), it’s just,, just silly personal scribblings that are kind of sharing an inside joke to everyone now, but i'm happy to know people still humor these silly drawings and are curious if there's more to it, thank you!