#also the house was haunted before but we helped the spirits that needed help and our buddies shoo-ed the troublemaker ones

[adrianastrix]

Just something I was thinking amidst all the reblogs, but I'm so grateful that not only I was raised in a spiritist household, but it was a household that didn't bother going to spiritist centres to have a more "traditional religion" experience. My parents took very seriously the "we don't need temples and rituals" part of the deal and let me learn about it through the original books (as hard as they should be to a child, but I was a particularly nerdy one who wasn't intimidated by big words).

Lots of the beliefs that kept my mind open to diversity and tolerance as I grew up and that allowed me to accept most unique things about myself came from those quiet afternoons reading about spirits, spiritual worlds, reincarnations and such.

"Spirits don't really have a biology, let alone a biological sex, and they reincarnate in any body, any country, any race, any social status, so you can learn as much as possible about being human." -> This central tennet of our version of reincarnation pretty much set me up to never feel that birth circumstances are anything to be proud or ashamed about, and I even predicted trans people existed before my country bumpkin butt actually heard about them in real life. After all, it's only normal that,after a few reincarnations in a kind of body, you will feel weird being in a different one.

In fact, child me was really at peace with the idea of being a man in past reincarnations and not really getting what being a woman is about, but being willing to explore and learn, as well as being in a process of not giving that much meaning to transient identities linked to a physical body, and it's still the best description of my gender identity (while the best shorthand might be the Twilightian identity of the galactic system - partial alignment to masc, fem and none).

Child me also never understood social hierarchies, and if you can reincarnate as pretty much anything, what's the point to be all high and mighty about someone that can be your boss in the next life? Better work on making friends and having more abilities, so you can relearn them faster in the next one, screw money, status or petty quibbles over what the other thinks about you or your tastes.

And this weird immortality by pieces, in which you die and have to learn to shed this fixed identity of your last life to be your whole immortal self, live a little like this, get the nead of being reborn for several reasons, and goes back to build a new self to learn new things and do new jobs made me patient with myself (there's always next one, no need to rush our present experiences), but also eager to get as much as I can from any particular life, because my whole being might be immortal, but this small part of myself is just that - a small part of myself. Once I die, this particular identity will slowly integrate with the sum of my experiences and I'll feel differently about a lot of things. Life is still a brief, beautiful moment and I should make the most of the experiences I have to build who I want to be and bring that back to the sources that next me will have to navigate this big mysterious cosmos.

The only thing that will remain will be the memories I forged and the connections I made with other living beings, so those things are more precious and worth cherishing than anything. It is simply not worth it to isolate yourself over money or social clout, since those things fade so quickly that you might lose them before you even die.

I know all that sound deep and wise and inspirational, but it was just what child me read in those 19th century books and took to heart as facts so simple and obvious that I never really felt the need to question them. To this day, my general stance on spiritism is that I believe it, but if it turns out to be no real, not only I'll be too dead and non-existent to care that it wasn't real, but I will have died with better mental health than I would have if I didn't believe in it, so it's worth it.

--

(Also, I'm grateful that reading about spirits from so early in my childhood made me so used to the idea of them being everywhere that I seriously don't get what's so scary about it. Why does everyone stop their horror stories at the point that they investigated a sound or a passing shadow and saw their grandma who died? Did you hate your grandma in life? Was she doing something bad or scary? Wouldn't you prefer it to be your grandma who you loved instead of a total stranger? Why haven't you talked with her, don't people always want to meet their loved ones who died again? Why squander the chance?? And if you saw a spirit crying, why didn't you offer it some comfort? I mean, what do you think a crying person who can't even touch you will do?? Just talk to them or ask your spirit buddies to do it, the poor thing might not even know they are dead already.

I absolutely love the fact that this my unfiltered thought process to any paranormal-related phenomenon, and it took me so long to understand that people were unironically afraid of sounds and shadows being caused by spirits and not, you know, thieves or something.)

[deadsetobsessions]

“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”

Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.

“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”

Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.

“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”

Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.

“Um… for the aesthetic?”

Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.

“You- you can’t stop me!”

And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.

He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.

He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.

Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.

“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”

Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.

“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.

“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”

“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.

“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.

“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”

“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”

Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.

He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.

“There!”

Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.

Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.

“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.

Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”

Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.

——

Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.

Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).

Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.

“B, I wanna go home.”

“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.

Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.

Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.

——

Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.

He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.

——

Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water

Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*

——

Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity

Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:

——

Dick as Robin: *cackles*

Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*

Gotham Criminals: *fear*

[daniclaytcn]

What do you think are the fandom ~~classic buddie fics?

i think this is a very subjective opinion, but i can tell you which fics i really love and constantly re-read—and which, in my opinion, should be read by everyone in the fandom :)

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by @hmslusitania Rated M | 44k | Completed Summary: An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances—and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts—a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

a bleeding sun on a silver screen by rarakiplin Rated M | 130k | Completed Summary: One day, Buck will tell an interviewer that he would be happy to make movies with Eddie Diaz until the day he dies. But first, years before that, he sees Eddie for the first time on the set of Chimney’s fifth movie. (or, the actors au)

i want your midnights by @littlespoonevan Rated T | 36k | Completed Summary: In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.

maybe we'll make something by @buckactuallys Rated E | 76k | Completed Summary: On a road trip with Christopher, Buck and Eddie finally work through their various traumas, and Eddie faces his parents again.

what a heart can do by @bvckandeddie Rated T | 86k | Completed Summary: In which Buck becomes the guardian of the daughter he never knew he had. Together, they discover what happiness truly means to them.

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston Rated T | 40k | Completed Summary: Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)

Both Blade and Branch by @cal-daisies-and-briars Rated M | 62k | Completed Summary: The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

we're not in love (but the sex is good) by elless Rated E | 15k | Completed Summary: Eddie is new to LA. Feeling lonely, he goes to a bar for a drink and meets a beautiful stranger that kisses like a dream. What starts as a one night stand quickly moves to frequent no strings sex. When circumstances lead to them spending time together out of bed, Eddie realizes he’s attached to Buck in a way he never planned for.

for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes Rated M | 113k | Work in Progress Summary: The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu Rated T | 21k | Completed Summary: The one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there.

[inawickedlittletown]

Halloween Movie Night (BuckTommy) - one-shot

Summary: Tommy is not a fan of scary movies. Set pre-8x05 Words: 1k Read on Ao3 -

Tommy had never been a fan of scary movies. Something about jump scares and how the victims were always the stupidest people to ever exist. He just didn’t vibe with any of it, not especially the creepy kids. When Eddie suggested that they have a movie night a few days before Halloween, Tommy didn’t even think about what they might watch until he and Evan arrived at Eddie’s place, carrying the cupcakes they’d picked up on the way there. 

Although Tommy had only ever visited Eddie’s house twice before the whole debacle with Christopher, there was no denying that the house was missing something. Someone. After the failed virtual birthday, he could tell that things just hadn’t gotten better though Evan reported that Eddie had been managing to get more than a few words out of his son lately. 

Eddie’s house had lots of decorations up both outside and in. Tommy, who only ever really put a couple of pumpkins out and then tended to buy a big bag of candy at Costco to leave out on a bowl, was a little impressed. Halloween had just never been his thing. Clearly, it was definitely Eddie’s. 

“I bet you’re having fun with the haunted house thing,” Tommy said. 

Eddie smiled. “I got my costume ready and everything. It’s going to be fun.” 

“I think I need something more for my section,” Evan said. “Really give them a show.” 

Tommy’s mind went to the show that Evan had put on for him when he was trying on his costume, mostly the part where he was taking it off and keeping the mostly awful cowboy accent. Evan didn’t meet his eyes and Tommy smiled to himself. All of that was not helped by the knowledge that Evan had worked on a dude ranch at some point. There had been a few pictures and yeah, maybe Tommy had looked at them disrespectfully. Evan looked good back then, but he did look better now. More bulked up. More himself. 

“We can go to a Spirit Halloween or something,” Tommy said. 

“There is also that prop house near my place,” Evan said. “Maybe I’ll go and see what they have.” 

They settled into Eddie’s living room. Tommy found himself sitting next to Evan with Eddie taking the armchair. Evan shifted until he was leaning against Tommy and Tommy lifted his arm to lay over Evan’s shoulders, bringing him closer. 

The first few times they hung out with Eddie together, Tommy had felt awkward about getting too close to Evan. He’d been afraid of making Eddie uncomfortable by being too familiar with Evan. Evan had pushed past that by grabbing his hand or standing closer to him than was necessary. Eddie had rolled with it, though sometimes he’d looked a little amused. Occasionally, he threw things at them if they got a little too lost in each other. 

He was distracted by Evan fitting himself against him, enough that he didn’t realize what Eddie had put on until he glanced at the tv and heard the creepy laughter and saw the girl in the white nightgown. 

Tommy knew he’d had a reaction, because Evan lifted his head to look at him.

“Okay?” 

“Uh…yeah. Yeah.” 

It was really hard to watch. The music and the atmosphere that the movie set, it did the job of being creepy and scary and Tommy…Tommy was going to have nightmares where Freddy Krueger was chasing him and trying to kill him. When he jumped at a scary point in the movie, Evan lifted off him a bit so he could look at him. 

Evan somehow shifted them and suddenly it was Tommy leaning against him and Evan was wrapping his arms around him, mouth close to Tommy’s ears. 

“Not a fan of scary movies?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Never seen this one,” Evan admitted. 

“You haven’t seen most movies,” Tommy said back. 

“True.” 

“We can ask Eddie to change it to something else,” Evan mused. 

Tommy shook his head. “He looks like he’s enjoying it.” 

He did. Eddie had a bottle in one hand and he was just staring at the tv, not even reacting to any of the parts that Tommy could hardly even watch. He did have an easier time not watching with the way Evan had arranged them. 

“But if you’re—”

“I’ll be alright,” Tommy said. “Just a movie.” 

The next time Tommy gave a jolt, Evan kissed the side of his head and then his cheek. His fingers were in Tommy’s hair and Tommy closed his eyes and focused on Evan. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t too bad if this was the treatment that it garnered. 

He was glad when at the end of the night when they left Eddie’s, Evan insisted on Tommy staying over even though they hadn’t planned on it. Evan didn’t say it, but he had probably guessed that Tommy was not going to be able to fall asleep easily. 

“I just don’t get it,” Tommy said while they got ready for bed. 

“What?” 

“The whole watching something scary…the world is already such a big mess. I don’t need my escapism to be full of weird creepy guys trying to kill for the hell of it.” 

“No,” Evan said, “there is enough of that in the real world. I guess some people don’t appreciate rom coms like you do.” 

“Hey,” Tommy said. 

Evan laughed. 

“What’s so bad about wanting to watch a movie where you know everything ends well.” 

“Nothing,” Evan said. “Everyone has their own forms of escapism.” 

“I guess so. Should we be worried that was Eddie’s?” 

“It’s Halloween. Maybe he’s just going with the season.” 

“Well next year we’re watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. Or The Adams Family. Or Hocus Pocus. Or Casper. Or The Haunted Mansion.”

Evan grinned. “I’ll be sure to invite Jee-Yun. She’ll have a blast.” 

“You know what, if I do get nightmares, I’m not even going to feel guilty when I wake you.” 

Evan just drew him into a kiss. “I’ll protect you.” 

[suugarbabe]

alright wifey, here's a little request for ya. I'm thinking enzo in a modern au at a haunted house or something and he works there as a scareactor, reader is being dragged there by their friends and gets scared by like everything. maybe a little mean enzo like at first he just finds it funny how actually terrified they get when he scares them so he starts following the group to pop out at them everywhere but like he also thinks it's kinda cute?? also I need him to wear a mask. maybe after reader goes on a mission to find that annoying actor to rip that stupid mask off his face and then they realize oh this guy is kinda fine. hope this makes at least a little bit of sense, love youuu 💕💕💕

I love love love that you suggested Enzo because I think his build (at least how I see him) is perfect for this 😇 and perfect for spoooky season 🎃

an: this turned out waaaay longer than anticipated, i may have gotten carried away in the spirit of the season; hope it does not suck

Frustrated. Livid. Infuriated. Pick a synonym for anger and you were feeling it right now at every single one of your friends that have dragged you to this god awful haunted house. And it seemed like you were the only one who felt this way. Around you were squeals and giggles from people excited to either enter the haunted house or playful screams from those being approached by the scare actors tasked with keeping the patrons adrenaline up before entering the main attraction.

Your arm was looped with your friends next to you and you squeezed her closer as two short clowns came dancing by, giggling and twisting their heads this way and that at the people in line. “Babes, I love you, but if you hold my arm any tighter I might be able to join the crew as the new one armed woman,” Daphne started teasing, even though she, herself, also took another step backwards with you as what appeared to be a headless man holding a rotting jack o lantern on stilts made its way through the crowded line.

"Listen, I agreed to come. I did not agree I would enjoy it; this is your own doing," your hold did not loosen as the line began to move forward. A girl about your height stood at the entry, clad in what looked like an old hospital gown covered in different splats of blood; some that looked like handprints. Her hair styled in two messy pig tails atop her head with the makeup on her face applied to make her look more pale and sickly.

Her voice was higher in pitch as she counted the people being ushered in through the entrance door, "One, two, oh you will do quite nicely, yes; five, six, beautiful jacket I hope it survives without getting blood on it." You and your friends just barely made the cut, settling into the room with the others. Your plan was to hover in the background, hoping that if you avoided the front that other people would take the brunt of the horror of the house.

The sickly looking scare actor's voice was suddenly right behind you, so close it felt like she was whispering in your ear and causing you to nearly jump out of your skin, "Most people think that the back is the safest place to be, but it's far easier to get left behind," she circled around your left side, head titled and pig tails dangling. The singular white contact in her right eye made her look a little extra deranged which only made you shudder more, "We wouldn't want that happening to you, now would we?"

All you could manage was a quick shake of your head as a sickly high pitched giggle then erupted from her lips as she maneuvered her way to the front of the room where three doors stood on the back wall. "Our house is full of fun and adventures," she slapped her hand against the door in the middle; a loud, ripping of a chainsaw sounded causing a number of people in the group to jump. "I never leave because my friends are here and we just have the best time playing," she slapped her hand against the door to her right. A sharp, piercing but muffled scream emitted from behind the wood, "HELP ME, PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME, GET ME OUT OF HERE, SHE WON'T LET ME GO!"

The sickly girl held her hand up to her mouth as she smiled and softly laughed, "She is so silly, isn't she silly?" She asked a woman in front of her who seemed to nod in agreeable just to avoid what may have come with telling her no. The sickly girl then pointed and wagged her finger at the door on the right, pouting her lips, "I'll deal with you later, friend."

She turned back to the group, unsettling smile almost too wide on her face. She walked sideways to the door on the left, placing her handle, "The glowing arrows show the way if you were to choose not to stay," she opened the door wide, plastic flaps you would seat in a meat cooler hanging in the doorway. "Remember, don't touch my friends and they won't touch you," the front of the group started through, the sound of the plastic flapping against the walls on the other side.

As you and your friends began to enter, the sickly girl was behind you again, "And don't get left behind." You gasped, turning around only to be met with the door slamming in your face. A large white sign with what was supposed to look like blood (but you were hoping was just paint) read "NOT AN EXIT" dripping down. You turned back round to see Daphne starting to walk away from you.

Hurriedly you caught up to her, holding on the the sleeve of her jacket and your group began to maneuver themselves around the maze like hallways. You weren't completely wrong about your idea to stay in the back. There were a few jump scares by scare actors while in the halls that by time you reached them they simply growled or barred their teeth or fake (very real looking) weapons towards you.

"I fucking hate it here, Daphne, I will never forgive you for this--fuckING BLOODY GOD DAMN SHIT HELL!" As the rest of the group began to enter a large black lit room with what sounded like a dozen creepy clowns in cages, a lone scare actor with a mask leap from behind the door right in front of you. His mask was not necessarily scary, per say. But the realistic ness made it all the more creepy.

He towered over you, his mask emulating similarly to an old porcelain doll with a few exceptions. There were large holes in each eye, so what you were terrifyingly looking into were the actors actual eyes. A large crack went across the left brow to his cheek, dark almost black looking blood coming from it. The bottom jaw was separated, but held together to the top half of the face with wire threading through where the lips should be. This gap allowed you to see where his lips should be coated in fake blood.

You were frozen to the spot, the scare actor in front of you flashing a smile of perfectly white teeth had they not had smudges of blood over them, "You're getting left behind, love." You turned your head to see your friends in front of you again, hustling your way back to them. You grabbed onto Astoria's arm this time instead, "I hate it here, I hate it here, I hate it here." Astoria just laughed, encouraging you to 'just have fun with it', as you all made it through the first room and into the next.

Something was starting to make you think being there was actually making you go crazy as it seemed like the same porcelain masked man was in every other room in the house. He popped through the window of the run down shed seemingly aiming to scare you directly as his low deep voice called out to you, "Hiya, darling," Another string of curses flew from your mouth, "Shit shit fucking shitfuck." You tried your best to push your friends further in the group, swearing you heard a low chuckle behind you.

He was seemingly chained against a wall two rooms after that, arms spread on either side of his head. While everyone else in the room was being frightened by the other actors, Porcelain mask seemed to be calling out to you once more. "C'mon baby, come and save me, won't you set me...free," you let out a high pitched screech, jumping further away from the wall as one of his hands seemed to burst from the chains and grab out at you."

"It's fine," Daphne assured you, "he's not going to touch you if you don't touch him remember?" You started walking in front of her, "I know that, but someone should remind him." Astoria playfully rolled her eyes as she held the curtain back for you to enter the next room. It seemed as if you were in the clear of Porcelain mask, the last two rooms you went through having no sign of him.

To exit the haunted house you had to go through a more narrow, very dark (very dark) hallway to the last door. It was a swinging door on side hinges, you knew it was the last one because every person who exited in front of you gave way to the sounds outside. So close, you're so close, you kept chanting to yourself like a mantra. It seemed like the only real scares in this area were random recordings of screams or quick flashes of light on a grim scene on one of the walls.

Keeping your eyes forward and aimed at your target (the door), another flash of light occurred. Only this time, you saw him. Porcelain mask was standing flat against the wall and when the light flashed, his head jerked quickly, looking straight. at. you. Trying to keep your cool you held your eyes to the same spot as to be aware of where he was and be able to dodge any attempt he would make.

Only when the light flashed again he was gone from the spot. Thrust into darkness again you went to grab Daphne's hand in front of you. Something wasn't right; why did her hand feel so...large. Another flash of light and you see that Porcelain mask is not only in front of you...but you were holding his hand.

Once again cloaked in darkness you were pushed against the wall as the lights began to strobe. The scare actor had a large hand on each side of your head, tall and broad towering over you. The flash from light to dark ness made his movements all the more horrifying as he tilted his head to the side before slowing bringing the mouth of his mask next to you ear, "Do I frighten you, angel?"

You ducked underneath his arms and bolted for the exit door. Pushing through it harshly, the hinges creaking as you made your exit, you frantically searched for your friends. "Over hear!" Daphne waved you over some ten meters from the exit, "You nearly did get left behind huh?" She meant it as a playful joke, erupting in teasing laughter as you flipped her off.

Over her shoulder you saw none other than Porcelain mask exiting the haunted house and heading towards a fenced off area. "I'll be right back," you tossed over your shoulder at your friends as you made your way in the same direction as the person that was torturing you all night.

You found that, luckily, the area wasn't really fenced off, and you were able to slip through a slightly open portion to what you discovered was like a 'break' area for the scare actors. You glanced around, spotting the porcelain mask sitting on top of a picnic table, three or four scare actors standing around and chatting.

In some new found confidence that was bubbling in your veins, you marked right up the table, snatching the mask and holding it up, "Who's is this?" A creepy clown and bloody hospital patient took a step back. In front of you, a tall man with soft brunette hair turned around locking your stare with his, "Looking for me?"

You wrapped an arm around your middle, "Y-yeah, who do you think you are, huh?" The man laughed lightly, "I'm Enzo, so very please to be formally introduced. And that's mine, angel. Can I have it back?" He wore a shit eating smirk, coffee brown eyes twinkling with delight.

The mask was most definitely his. The only horror makeup on his face where the crack in the eye would be and around his mouth. You stood up slightly taller, "No, Enzo, you can't have it back." His eyebrows shot up cockily, "Oh? And why's that?" You stared at him dumbstruck for a moment. His eyes had a playful glint, smirk so deep that dimples popped into each cheek.

You felt a blush creep up your neck under his gaze but you did your best to keep your voice steady as you spoke, "You think that just because you have adorable little dimples under this mask that I'm not going to be mad at you for following me around all night?" His head tilted slightly at this, not much unlike when he had you pinned against the wall in the last hall, "You think my dimples are adorable, hmm?"

Scoffing you look off to the side to break eye contact, "I, erm-" He cut you off, taking a step closer to you, your knees hitting the back of the bench, you reach for the tabletop behind you, clamoring back until you're sitting atop the table. This does nothing but give him leverage as he leans forward now, placing a hand on the table on either side of your hips. "S'alright, you're quite adorable too," he leaned in closer, "s'why I followed you around all night. Cute little angel with the sailors tongue." He was so close, lips ghosting near the shell of your ear as he spoke, "Wonder what else I can make you scream."

[ancha-aus]

Ghosts & Medium AU Drabble - First Encounter

Because we all know. I have no self control :D

I don't know if this will become a serie like RealAgeAU.

This drabble is more of a thank you to all the lovely people who interacted with me over this idea and added their own little ideas and headcanons <3 So this is for all of you <3 (also i named Ghost Papyrus Ash because I like the name combination of Dust and Ash. Dust to dust and ashes to ashes kinda deal/joke)

*---------------------*

Dust taps the steering wheel as he drives through the town. Many people shoot his van worried and suspicious looks but he really doens't care that much.

Ash does not agree.

"If they know what is good for them they will stop this idiotic behaviour!" Ash huffs and grumbles as he floats around the top of the van, only his skull and hands available to him in this phantom form. "They are already lucky we are willing to give them our presence!!"

Dust hums as he follows the road "It isn't big of a deal."

Dust stops their van at the end of the road and grabs his laptop. a beat up old model but it works for what he wants. He only uses it for work stuff anyway. he opens his email and checks the address "We are here." he looks up and spots the house the email describes.

Ash huffs but floats near his shoulder "stupid white family who moved into an obviously haunted house again?"

Dust snorts and shrugs "Maybe. The man didn't specify. still." he grins at his brother "wanne bet?"

Ash looks unamused "I don't bet with you anymore."

Dust shrugs "your lose. Either way. I bet that this is the same old story. a white family moved to this very cheap mansion because the father was convinced this change of environment would solve all their issues, which are mostly that he cheated on his wife with his twenty year younger assistant."

Ash huffs unimpressed and just points pointedly at the house "Do your job. What can we expect here?"

Dust sighs but focusses on the house in the distance as he slowly opens his aura and soul for influence. Doing this near a lot of spirits leaves him at the risk of being possessed. which is why he does this only from a large distance and when he doens't sense other spirits nearby.

Dust hums as he focusses "okay... I think this may be a poltergeist? Though a very powerful one." he shoots Ash a look "best you dont go on a recon mission." he turns his driver's chair around and gets up to look through his shelve.

Ash grumbles behind him but doesn't fly off to investigate on his own. Ash as phantom is very stealthily and able to get anywhere he wants. But it leaves him weak to other spirit types.

Dust first grabs the pendant to strenghten Ash, which he tugs away in his scarf. Next he grabs a notebook and pen. An ouija board. a ghost radio.

He considers his tools before also grabbing the EMF meter and a handheld thermometer.

Ash laughs "You don't need those. if you are right and it is a poltergeist you just need to follow the floating and throwing objects to find it."

Dust shrugs "They may not be active. and stop calling your fellow spirits 'it's. it is rude." he gets out of his van and locks it before walking the last bit of the distance towards the house. Ash grumbles unhappily but follows him.

They get to the mansion together and find the family out in the garden. camping. huh. Honestly good idea on their part. just camping just outside the house.

The man had been holding a sniffing girl before catching sight of him.

The man looks excited as he hands the girl to the grown woman. the wife then it seems.

The husband rushes over "You are here! please help us!"

Dust tilts his skull and studies the scene before looking back at husband "hello. How long have you been having this spirit in your lives?"

The man sighs and moves to speak but the wife gets to his side "please love. lets first let our guest sit and we can all tell him what we saw."

Dust tilts his skull at her "Normally people don't believe in what i do."

the wife laughs but looks tired "I didn't believe in ghosts before until my house suddenly got haunted out of nowhere. And the priests we hired started to lose their minds. You get more openminded after that experience."

They end up sitting together in the grass as they explain that this was a house they bought about ten years ago. and that they never had these problems before until a month or so ago. that knives started flying and attacking them and how they couldn't feel safe anymore. How many had tried to demand the ghost to leave or tried to make it leave but nothing worked.

Dust looks at the small list he made and nods "i will need to find out why they dont leave." normally something keeps a spirit anchored to this realm and reality. it is strange that this spirit moved in without having a reason.

or at least it seems like that.

Dust asks if there seems to be a room where the spirit is most active and the family tells him it seems to be the living room though they have also been haunting the master bedroom a lot.

Dust nods and walks towards the front door. Already noticing the presence of the spirit as he gets near. He opens the front door and waits for a moment.

silence. No movement. an unnatural darkness.

Is the spirit taking energy from the environment to get this powerful? Normally they tend to feed on fear or memories. taking it from the environment is rare but not unheard of.

Dust makes sure to keep his voice calm and even "Hello. I am coming in okay?" he waits for a moment before nodding and stepping inside.

The door slams shut behind him and Dust nods "fair enough. can't have a draft form." he glances around. He needs to make a choice. living room or bed room.

He goes towards the living room. That one is generally more socially acceptable to visit on a first visit.

He gets to the room and looks around. It is a mess of furniture thrown over and broken things. The TV is static and everything is lit up with that greyish light.

Dust takes a moment to get comfortable at the coffee table as he sits with his legs crossed on the ground "Hello. I would like to ask you some questions if that is okay."

More silence but no hostile auras around him.

Dust nods and takes out the ways to help the spirit communicate "Do you have a prefered way to speak?" he points at the notebook, the radio and the ouija board.

A laugh in the air and Dust searches for the source. The longer he is near spirits the easier for him it becomes to hear and see them. He can see the outline of the spirit and watches them.

The laughted stops and the spirit floats closer to the offered items. they seem to nudge some of them before huffing.

Dust nods "no preference? we can try to just communicate as is then?"

The other stops and turns to face him. More details are becoming clear to Dust as the spirit remains near. They seem to have been a skeleton before, or they just prefer that form now.

The spirit chuckles and leans on their fist as they lay on their front in the air "sure. sounds fun."

their voice is still a little hard to understand but Dust can manage. He will have a headache after this however. That always happens when he communicates like this with new spirits.

Dust nods before putting the offered tools away before grabbing his own notebook for his personal notes "Hello, do you have a name that i can refer to you with? and do you have a preference in pronounce or gender to be referred with?" and he waits.

The spirit, becoming more and more clear to him, stares at him before speaking with that crackling and static voice "Killer. I am a guy."

Dust nods and notes it down "Killer. Hello. I am Dust. I was hoping you could answer some of my questions." more of a statement but an important one to make.

Killer nods and shrugs as answer. Okay that is good. no obvious hostile air just yet. Killer is also becoming more and more visible the longer he is not hostile. Dust can make out the skeleton with a bright red target in front of his sternum. the sweater and pants he is wearing. most telling however? the dark and empty sockets adn the black tears.

spirit forms usually say a lot about how a spirit died. The best way to make a spirit leave is to help them move on which is about 9 out of 10 times connected to their death.

So... no eye lights... hopeless situation? black tears. very traumatic? that is all he has so far and that is just speculations.

Dust asks his first question "How long have you been a spirit?"

Killer blinks before shooting him a grin "Checking if i am legal? Don't worry! I am well beyond the legal age." and he winks.

Dust blinks as Ash is silent by his side. okay. not the kind of answer he had been expecting. but better than being hostile...

Dust gives a slow nod as he makes a note "so you have been a spirit for a while. how long have you been at this place specifically?"

Killer shrugs as he thinks "little while. a month ish? so i am open to running away wiht you." and he grins at him again.

Ash grumbles angerly behind him "I think a murderous spirit is better than whatever is going on here."

Dust decides to not pay much attention to the flirsts and stay on track "Where were you before you moved here?"

Killer grins "In some other house with other people."

dust nods and continues "Why did you leave that place?"

Killer grins as he leans on his fist. staring at him "They moved and no one new moved in."

Dust frowns and asks "isnt that your aim? By haunting them? To make them leave? To have your own place for just yourself?"

Killer freezes for a moment and seems to grow a bit more static. Then he grins wider and leans closer to him "I mean. I would love to have my own house! Especially as that is seen as hot right? Having your own place." Killer winks at him again "Make sure no one interrupts our alone time?"

Ash makes gagging sounds behind him as Dust notes down 'doesnt want to be alone.'

Dust thinks for a moment before speaking again "You seem very focussed on being near others. does that mean you regret being alone?" just get more information.

Killer grins "The only thing i regret is not meeting you earlier."

Dust hums as he thinks. He doesn't seem to have any regrets. So his death and lingering isn't regret related.

It goes on like this for hours. Dust asking Killer questions and Killer replying with somekind of pickup line or other flirt with tiny bits of informations within those answers.

By the time it is evening Dust has a small list of things that seem to be trauma related but not any closer to actually getting the spirit to move on.

Dust says his goodbye as he moves towards the door only for the door of the living room to slam shut. Dust looks at it before turning back to Killer "Yes? Was there something?"

Killer looks downright panicked "Where are you going? Don't leave!"

yeah that is very obviously trauma related to being alone. maybe left behind? abandoned by someone Killer cared a lot about? Maybe that explains the flirting?

Dust speaks "I was going to go eat and sleep. I need to it to live." and he waits.

Killer frowns as he rubs his arms and eyes the door "And you will be back?"

Dust nods "I was planning on it. If i am welcome."

Killer thinks but nods. the door behind him unlocks and opens and Dust hears a second door do the same in the distance.

Dust nods and leaves the house. he gives the family a quick update that it may take a while longer as he tries to figure this out. then he goes to get his van and park it closer.

This may be a bit of a tricky case after all.

*---------------------*

and then in the end dust never managed to get killer to move on and killer ended up stalkign him instead <3

A drabble for this silly au!! I love seeing everyones ideas and headcanons and i hope this helps you guys to also keep interacting with me about this :D <3

part 2 - New Haunting

[missmarveledsblog]

Not so solo after all ( fanboy x fan girl ( reader) )

summary : when our fanboy thinks he spending halloween without his girl she surprises him in more ways then one

warnings : it a day late soz but here is a halloween themed fic sort of goes with the fan girl fic i wrote but can be read alone , smutty but not smtty 18+

Fan girl

Halloween was a night of no judgment all nerd could dress as whatever they want and no one bats a lid only this was even better she was surprising her boyfriend given the two thought she was coming days later .  the flights overbook and misbooking of her own tickets til she was able to get last minute she spent the three hour flight perfecting her hair and makeup . she  had costume or costumes since she had a special one underneath , she was excited more excited than she’d been in a good long while . it was like a nerd like fairytale meeting mickey garcia , the fact the two had such similar  mindsets, both  so emersed in the nerd culture it was refreshing plus also exciting in more ways than one .  now she was sitting  in the car as nat was talking her ear off , a promise to do the female aviators makeup  before they headed to the hard deck .  she put her bags in as two enjoyed the emptiness of the house pulling the make up out  getting to work making nat the sexiest and scariest black cat ironic to bob saying he was going to be golden retriever suiting both personalities to a tea . 

“ so does fanboy know your dressing as his literal dream come through ?” the brunette smirked. 

“ nope he doesn’t even know i’m in san diego  , plus i send him like a million other costumes so” she giggled . 

“ but you know he’s gonna be han solo , i love it i can’t wait for him to short circuit it’s gonna be amazing” she rubbed her gloved hands together. 

“ i mean it’s skimpy leia costume but the real one is underneath”

“You didn’t … the bikini thing even hangman knows that one “ nat snorted . 

“ hey i mean it’s an iconic moment “ she shrugged . 

“ you might actually kill the poor guy you do know that?” 

“ i’m hoping he kills me or leaves me legless either is good  “ she winked . 

“ too much information but also get it “ nat smirked texting the guys she would be there soon just bringing a friend only for her phone to blow up from jake and rooster asking if she’s hot and a dibs wars soon spammed in the groupchat .  “ i didn’t even say if it was a girl or not “ she shook her head looking down at the phone . 

“ well pretty kitty lets blow them away shall we” y/n beamed . 

He tried honestly he did , it was hard not to be a downer when the one person who could fully appreciate the effort and accuracy of the costume wasn’t there or mainly he was just missing his girl and hadn’t  heard anything from in hours .  bob did tell him she helped with haunted house back when she was home so he understood she would be busy giving kids and teens the joys of the halloween spirit  but then again should he be listening to a man who looked like a golden retriever hybrid . 

“ hey come on lets have a good night “ rooster who was by far laziest of costume telling people he was tom selleck in magnum pi although it was his normal clothes. 

“ he’s all pouty missing his girl “ payback rolled his eyes dressed as blade   patted fanboy back rolling his eyes . 

“ i would too if my girl was hot as his .. what it’s truth “ hangman rolled his eyes dressed as cowboy ken doll  ascot and cowboy hat  suited him perfectly. 

“ we just need to distract him is all “ javy shrugged dressed as tarzan if tarzan was GQ model that was .  the boys tried their best cheering him up all banter and fun as he started to loosen up a little although he did check his phone and embarrassing amount of times or ignored rooster and hangman's dibs on phoenix mystery friend not that he cared much for it til the cheers and whistles erupted when the door or the hard deck opened  he didn’t bother looking up not once he was smiling at the screensaver selfie of them chilling and cozy wrapped up together. 

“ holy shit fanboy your gonna lose your little mind “ was all he heard jake saying as he looked up going to look at the man quick glance at the approaching figure before looking back and his jaw hitting that ground so fast he was sure it would fall off .  looking up he had to of die and went to a galaxy far far away when he took in the sight of the woman he fell hard and fast for .  he knew who she was a mile away although hers was more form fitting and short but she was the leia to his han solo . a quick and barely there hello  as he ran past nat on to grab his girl in his arms lifting her up  in his arms as she giggled . 

“ how .. what .. wow “ he beamed placing her down taking her in the white gown and her hair all scream both leia and sex appeal all in one . the white gown hitting tops of her thighs  and although it was still turtle neck ( hiding the collar ) , the chest of had a cut out section  show casing her cleavage and still concealing everything at same time ,  the belt was attaching to a corset , she made sure it was fitted to show enough and not ruin the surprise underneath . 

“ my mom’s friend gave me her ticket  since she wasn’t able to fly so i thought i would surprise you “ she  laughed as he kissed every part of her face. 

“Well darling ain’t you looking good to beam me up and take me away in the tardis “ jake winked as she looked personally offended  so did fanboy . 

“ the tardis is doctor who “ 

“ beam me up is star trek “ 

“ same thing right ?” he asked . 

“ even i know it’s not “ rooster snorted . 

“ let me get you a drink  princess “ fanboy turned his cheek hurting from the smiling taking her hand leading her to the bar to see both mav and penny behind the bar dress as sunny and cher . 

 The night actually truly starting  , he still couldn’t get over how lucky he was or the way he stood taller when he noticed people giving him a thumbs up when they saw her on his arm .  the fact she was dress as the first woman he’s ever had one an awakening to or been his major celebrity crush since he was little boy only made it hundred times better.  He couldn’t keep his hands off of her whether the touches were innocent or not so innocent .  Kisses turning more sloppy , more heated   signaling it was definitely time to leave .  a quick goodbye to her brother and there friends the two headed out into the night air  the whole time hands and lips not separated to lost in each other . 

The journey home was pretty much the same only the touches on her skin teasingly as he talk to the uber driver  purpose torturing his girl knowing it was driving her crazy , hand on  her thigh gliding up and squeezing the plus soft skin as he could see her side glance  biting her lip suppressing any sound that might come from those heavenly lips . sometimes  moment like this it was hard to believe she was his , this incredible goddess like woman that was his to have.  She was fighting it , fighting the desperate neediness that was dying to come out . when they finally arrived back at his place it was like she could thank whoever for finally cutting the torture . a quick goodbye to the driver and the two were gone almost running to the house.  Kissing his cheek , his neck suddenly the man didn’t know how to use a key so focused on  her touch he stood hover over the lock til she took them in her hands unlocking the door. 

“ i can’t wait anymore and been dying to show you my surprise” she winked heading off to his room dropping and pulling off her costume as he followed behind at this rate he was sure he was under some spell floating in the direction of his bedroom ready to be the solo to her leia .  then it all stopped  his breathing , thinking , shit he really died  and went to nerd central heaven .   it was perfect every part almost spot on accurate as he took in the browns , golds and blue of the lack of clothing .  like it couldn’t get better she took her bag clipping the chain to  the collar . 

“ the hair isn’t leia anymore but i think it still works “ she laughed as her hair fell from the buns sitting  messy and wild shit it really did . 

“ fucking  hell baby .. this was what was under your dress the whole time ?” he groaned coming toward one part of him didn’t wanna touch her , like she was mint condition couldn’t take it out of the box and another part of him wanted to tear the box to shreds and enjoy his present .  the soft nod  confirmed the answer to his question. Then it was like he came back to reality  and a fire breaking through pulling the chain pulling her to him kissing ever  part of her skin soft moans and whimpers falling from her lips pulling back looking into her almost black eyes , the rise and fall of her chest    and the curl of her lip  when she slowly fell to her knees  and  he swore his love was out to kill him tonight if it was it was working. That doe eyed looking up at him , hand going to his pant as he yanked the chain making her jolt forward ,  looking back up to see him smirking , coming to to his sense in a dangerous grin .

“ ready to see the galaxies baby “ he smirked leaning down  making her breathe hitch knowing she was done for but fuck was she  excited for it 

[roselyn-writing]

Name: Arnunludo ‘Arnold’ Lopez.

Age: 1200. (In Earth) 500 (In Virginia).

Date of birth: 10 December 609 (In Virginian time & year)

Current location: New York.

Favourite colours: Gray, Green, Black, Blue and Red.

Favourite food: fries and burgers, Pasta, Mulukhiyah soup, fortune cookies.

Likes to: To feed and care for animals, to help people, to talk to people (include giving advice), to meet new people and so on, to sing. He has a green electric guitar named ‘spike’ 💚🧡🎸

Body-shape: semi-muscular.

Height: 6’5 (196cm).

Hair colour / type: smooth / soft short Peach-Blonde hair.

Eyes: Gray almond-shaped eyes.

Notable features: handsome face, a mole under his right lower lip.

Aura colour: Gold, so is his magic’s colour.

Inspired by: Arnold Jackson from Totally Spies (Name only) and unnamed background character, also a blonde handsome model with tanned skin, from totally spices, John Constantine from DC.

Pets: Doesn’t have one.

Powers:

Virginian magic. (Includes telekinesis, fire blasts, energy blasts, forcefield generation and high intuition, etc)

Superhuman stamina.

Superhuman strength.

Great strategist.

Great healing powers.

Semi-Immortality.

Ownership of enchanted weapons.

Can understand animals but he doesn’t talk to them.

“Be the reason there is goodness left in this world” __Arnold Lopez.

The lore

Coming from the prestigious family ‘Al-Khaghdasaryan’ famous for their curse breaking and cleansing from demonic possession — and also, for purifying haunted places and banishing evil spirits.

Arnold knew little of his Virginian heritage, Let alone his prestigious family; since his aunt: Lydia Fallon, had taken care of him since he was a little boy, no older than 10.

The year was 1731 on Earth; when he was brought by his aunt and they lived peacefully in New York.

The city was quiet at this time; with a few people walking then and there, enjoying the clean air and the beautiful, bright sun. The sky, is a perfect shade of pale blue littered with a few thick white clouds, as if they are white cotton candy on a blue plate.

Arnold walked through the door, weary and starving after a long day of school in the quiet city of New York. The mere scent of cooked food filled his nostrils, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace towards the kitchen. He cordially greeted his aunt, who was already dishing out the meal onto plates.

His aunt looked up, a warm smile on her face as she noticed his hungry expression. "Hungry, are you, my boy?" she affectionately asked, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Arnold smiled and nodded, his stomach rumbling in response to the delicious aroma wafting through the air. He took a seat at the table and breathed in deeply, savouring the smell of the freshly cooked meal. "Absolutely starving," he replied, feeling his mouth water at the sight of the food. "It smells amazing," His aunt chuckled, her expression warm and affectionate as she served up the plates.

Arnold's aunt beamed at his compliment, her eyes filled with pride as she watched him take a bite of the food she had prepared. The meal was a sumptuous feast, with succulent meat and fresh vegetables beautifully arranged on the plates. As Arnold ate, his aunt, Lydia had struck up a conversation with him, engaging in lighthearted banter and chatter.

His aunt swallowed a spoonful of the mouth-watering meal, her voice firm. "Eat, and get dressed."

Arnold looked up from his plate, eyes meeting hers. "Are we going to cleanse another troubled house?" he muttered, his tone tinged with a mixture of resignation and curiosity.

She nodded. "Aye," she replied, a hint of determination in her eyes. "That's what we'll be doing."

Arnold nodded wordlessly, returning to his plate and taking another spoonful of the delicious food his aunt had prepared.

Arnold continued to eat, his thoughts revolving around the upcoming task of purifying another haunted house. His aunt broke the silence, her voice matter-of-fact.

"We'll need to do some preparation before we head out," she informed him. "Grab your gear and make sure it's all in order."

Arnold nodded once more, he’d prepared his gear and other equipment after he’d finished his plate.

A while later, Arnold is getting ready. His hands methodically gather his belongings – his protective talismans, various tools, and other necessities. He felt a twinge of anxiety, the thought of facing another haunting was always a bit unnerving.

As soon as he readied himself, His aunt entered the room. She was dressed in a brown 1700s fashion style top, with long sleeves and ruffled around the hem, a long black and blue skirt with buttons and ruffles too — lastly, brown flats and a sunhat with white feathers and armed with enchanted daggers.

His aunt; is a beautiful Virginian tall woman with smooth olive-tone skin, almond-shaped large green eyes as if they were glowing emeralds, and wavy yet thick ebony hair that hung past her backside in soft curls. Lastly, a mole on her upper; giving her the iconic seductress air. She looks beautiful and mesmerising in her regal Virginian beauty. It always puzzled Arnold why his aunt was still single and unmarried while being this beautiful, he pondered that she’d face catcalls, and men flirting with her on a daily basis.

As Arnold finished gathering his supplies, his aunt stood up, a resolute look in her eyes. "It's time to go," she said, her voice firm but gentle.

With a deep breath, Arnold followed her out the door, their journey to the haunted house beginning in earnest. The air was thick with anticipation and a hint of trepidation as they made their way to their destination, the knowledge that they were about to confront yet another malevolent spirit weighing heavily on both of them.

Arnold and his aunt strolled to the garage. After his aunt took the carriage out of the garage, they didn’t need horses because she’d use her Virginian magic to move it. Arnold pondered how his aunt managed to convince the locals they were blessed with ‘the help of angels’ she’d say. To him, It is just a straight-up lie to cover their usage of magic, and it worked.

Arnold and Lydia are now in the carriage, She used her magic to move it around the quiet streets of New York. Some people were flabbergasted that she could move it without horses, but hey! She is an exorcist. A good follow of Jesus.

Arnold let out a weary sigh, crossing his arms to try to disguise his discomfort at the attention they were receiving. He tried to brush it off but it was extremely difficult for him not to be unbothered by it. The people were eyeing them as if they were aliens or highly intellectual beings.

Ever the cautious man, Arnold sighed again. Stealing a glance at his aunt as she expertly drove the black large carriage. “Couldn’t we at least have a horse?” He asked, his tone is tinged with slight annoyance.

She heartily chuckled at that. “Why need a horse when we have magic,” she quipped, Her lovely voice thick with an Irish accent.

He shrugged, his expression somewhat irritated and annoyed. “We should try to blend in, and right now, you aren’t doing a great job.” He grumbled, his gaze fixated on her for a moment before shifting toward the passing streets and signs.

The carriage continued to move through the streets, the people watching them with a mixture of curiosity and awe. Arnold continued to feel uncomfortable under their staring eyes, his arms still crossed defensively.

He turned his attention back to his aunt, who maintained her calm demeanour despite the stares. "How much longer until we get there?" he asked, his voice slightly frustrated.

She glanced at him, a reassuring smile playing on her lips. "Not long now," she reassured him. "We're almost there."

The Peach-Blonde-haired man shifted in his seat, his annoyance growing. "These people are staring at us like we're some kind of spectacle," he muttered, his voice dripping with irritation.

The Virginian-Irish emerald-eyed woman's smile widened at his comment, her eyes flashing with amusement. His aunt grinned before she teased him. "What, never had people admire you before, lad?" she teased her tone light and teasing.

Arnold rolled his eyes, trying to downplay his discomfort. "Yeah, yeah, very funny," he dryly retorted.

She suppressed a chuckle; enjoying his grumpy attitude. "Lighten up, Arnold," she wholeheartedly stated, her voice still dripping with amusement. "You’re acting as if it’s the first time someone looks at you."

Arnold breathed deeply although his irritation was still evident. "Well, it’s not exactly comfortable, you know," he grumbled, his arms still crossing stubbornly.

They finally stopped at some deserted field area, there was a lonely house and a farm on the hill, and to his luck; it just had begun raining on them. A sense of unease settled in Arnold’s heart as he took in the desolate landscape before him. The empty, haunting field seemed to exude a vicious, malevolent aura, its emptiness chilling to the very core. His intuition screamed at him, a primal instinct telling him to grab the steering wheel and flee, but his commitment to the task at hand kept him rooted in his seat.

His aunt had taken the equipment they needed from the carriage, and then they both exited it. They couldn’t wait for a soul to guide them to which place they were looking for. Arnold begrudgingly followed his aunt as she tucked a protection talisman on her neck like some jewellery.

The silence that enveloped the area was deafening, the absence of any sound adding to the eeriness of the place. The only sound that could be heard was the wind softly whispering, its low murmur echoing the desolation of the surroundings. Arnold glanced around, the eerie silence of the field making the fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end.

Arnold reluctantly followed his aunt’s lead as they ventured deeper into the ominous, cursed field. The silence was deafening, the absence of any noise only serving to increase his sense of dread. He couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom that gnawed at his gut, a feeling that only seemed to grow stronger with each step they took, and the heavy rain did nothing to ease his concern.

His eyes darted around, trying to find any source of comfort or reassurance, but all he could see was the endless stretch of emptiness — a soundless hallowed abyss that only seemed to grow and stretch at every step they took.

The air was thick with an ominous presence as if the very land itself was holding its breath in anticipation. Arnold's eyes darted around the deserted landscape, his senses on high alert.

"This place feels off," he muttered, his voice low and wary. He turned to his aunt, his expression wary. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

Her expression remained steady, her eyes fixed on the field before them. "Yes, this is the place," she replied, her tone calm and confident. "I've done some scouting; the malevolent spirit is somewhere around here."

Arnold’s unease only increased at her words. "Somewhere around here," he echoed, his voice laced with scepticism. "That really narrows it down, doesn’t it?"

She shot him a stern look. "Trust me, I know what I’m doing," she assured him, her tone firm. "I wouldn’t have brought us here if I wasn’t sure."

Arnold grumbled under his breath, his discomfort still present. "Yeah, well, forgive me for not feeling reassured," he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration

To their utter surprise, a woman approached them; she looked in her prime, probably in her 20s or maybe 30s. She is fair-skinned, has gorgeous hazelnut orbs, and has a long black curtain of smooth hair.

Arnold immediately studied the woman; as the perceptive and observant man he is; he was quite taken back — not by her beauty. But this woman seemed off. First of all: she didn’t look drenched in the heavy rain, and secondly she wore a different clothing than their era, probably from an older era than theirs.

The young exorcist had two explanations for this: either she was too poor and couldn’t afford new clothes or she was their target, an evil, malicious spirit who was trying to lure them to their doom. Arnold needed to alert his aunt without the woman noticing them, so he did the known sign by them, he tapped his two forefingers together as they made contact with each other, and they let out a similar sound to a ‘finger snap’.

Arnold's thoughts raced as he discreetly signalled to his aunt, his fingertips clicking together in a subtle warning. His eyes flicked towards the woman, the possible danger making him concerned.

His aunt caught his message in an instant, her keen intuition picking up on the silent warning, However. She schooled her expression into a cold, unreadable mask. Thankfully, the woman was blissfully unaware of their knowledge.

Her calm exterior belied the seriousness of the situation, the realization of impending danger evident in the way her eyes darkened. They were in the presence of peril, and their every move would need to be deliberate and vigilant.

The woman, seemingly oblivious to their silent communication, continued talking as if everything was normal. Arnold and his aunt maintained their composure, their expressions never wavering. The only indication of their inner tension was the slight tensing of their muscles and the heightened awareness in their eyes.

Their thoughts raced, contemplating their next move and the danger that lurked nearby. They continued to engage in polite conversation, all the while being keenly alert to every sound and movement around them.

Then, In a flash; the unthinkable happened. The beautiful woman’s expression turned into an ugly, hallowed ghoulish visage. She tried to strangle Lydia but thankfully, Arnold was quick to act. He twirled his high-silvermere knife and he plunged it deep into the ghost’s neck, she cried as she let out an otherworldly guttural scream that echoed through the field, Then. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the spirit turned and fled, its slender figure darting away with unnatural speed, moving on all fours like a creature straight from a horror movie. The field was eerily silent once again, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and the rustle of the wind through the desolate grass.

Lydia stood there, her breathing ragged from the sudden attack. Arnold was at her side, the knife still in hand. They were both shaken by what had just happened, the adrenaline slowly subsiding as they took in their surroundings.

His aunt broke the silence after a moment, her voice steady but the hint of fear still present. “Well, that was unexpected.”

Arnold nodded silently. The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. "Yeah, you could say that again," he muttered, trying to regain his composure.

His aunt's eyes scanned the area, her eyes alert for any signs of the wicked spirit returning. "We need to be more careful now,” she murmured, her voice edged with caution. "It's not just harmless spirits we're dealing with here."

Arnold and his aunt; each have their backs. And his aunt was right, The wicked spirit did return to finish them again. This time, she looks more grotesque and ugly, as if her skin had been fried by the burning sun of the Sahara Desert. She lets out a sepulchral scream that resonates through the place like some hellish screams from the underworld, and she is here for blood.

Arnold, as if guided by an unseen hand, quickly and cautiously extended his hand toward the wicked spirit’s heart — unexpectedly, his hand glowed with a golden, pure holy light – as if it the holy light descended from heaven itself. And as he did, He unleashed powerful blasts of light that drove the wicked spirit away.

His aunt, her mouth was agape; extremely surprised at Arnold’s magic — she knew he had it in him but she thought his magic was doormat because he didn’t learn his Virginian heritage enough to conjure such power and pure magic.

Yet, She’d never seen him wield such magic so forcefully, so potentially. He’d always kept his abilities secret to ‘blend in’ as he’d always say.

But now, in this very moment, He had summoned a powerful that left her speechless.

His aunt regarded him with a mixture of awe and pride, her eyes narrowing in contemplative thought. She'd always known he had the innate talent, the lineage steeped in Virginian magic coursing through his veins, yet he'd never fully tapped into its potential. It was as if he'd been holding back his true power, content to keep a low profile of himself instead of embracing the magic that was his heritage.

This, however, was a game-changer. This unbridled display of the light magic was like nothing she'd ever witnessed before.

The evil spirit witnessed Arnold’s powers, yet she was too stubborn to admit defeat or even scurry away. Somehow, she managed to multiply herself; definitely using her ghoulish powers to do that.

Somehow, in this very moment; something deep inside Arnold clicked. He heard a lot of voices inside his mind, telling him to ‘believe’ because he refused to use his Virginian magic. He wanted to blend in with Earthlings.

Believe… Arnold...

Believe! Son of Virginia!

Believe thyself!

Believe!

The Peach-Blond haired man closed his eyes; as if he was quickly contemplating. He had only a few moments to act before the wicked spirit attack.

“I believe!” Arnold declared.

As soon as he said those words, a blinding ray of light came and materialised into golden chains; effortlessly encircling the wicked spirit’s wrists and ankles, she let out a howl of pain at the burning of those divine chains; thrashing and flailing as she tried to break herself free but to no avail.

Meanwhile, Lydia was completely dumbfounded by the scene, Somehow, Arnold awakened his potential as an exorcist.

Then, Arnold’s grey orbs shone with a blinding golden hue. As he chanted the sacred exorcist incantations:

‘Fade and decay.

End this fate.

Shatter these earthly bounds.

let the soul be free.

Heal what had been harmed.

Cleansed what had been stained.

And let the spirit soar free.’

The air cracked with intensity the echoing murmur of ancient, sacred words, and Arnold’s new found holy powers; The unholy presence writhed and flailed even more, its guttural cries intensifying as the divine incantation began to take effect. Within mere moments, the evil spirit was consumed, her form dissolving into nothingness as the purifying glow enveloped her.

Silence descended upon the field once more, the only sound that of their panting breaths and the faint rustling of the wind through the grass.

As the echoes of the chant faded away, a sense of stillness settled over the area. There was no trace of the evil spirit, and the once menacing field seemed oddly tranquil now.

Lydia stood there, her eyes still wide with disbelief, her heart still pounding in her chest. She tried to find words but none came. She shifted her gaze toward Arnold, who now stood there, the once-fiery golden hue in his eyes now fading back to their natural grey shade.

She finally found herself as she glanced at him; her expression warm and grateful. Her voice was slightly shaky. "That was… incredible," she breathed, her voice still hoarse from shock.

Arnold turned to look at her, a hint of surprise in his eyes as if he was surprised himself by what he had done. This time, He grinned at her not downplaying the sheer awe-inspiring nature of his actions. "Just part of the job," he said, his voice still slightly gruff.

Lydia's expression softened, her gaze moving over him, still trying to wrap her mind around the events that had just unfolded. His nonchalant attitude only added to her amazement, the way he had just casually unleashed such extraordinary magic as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Just part of the job," she repeated, her tone tinged with disbelief. "Is that all you have to say?"

Arnold felt his stomach growling, he was starving. “Let’s go, I’m going to make pasta.”

Lydia gave him an ornery smirk. “Ah, Me too, Let’s go champ.”

With that, Together they climbed into the darkened carriage, the heavy doors closing quietly behind them. His aunt's magic stirred, and the vehicle lurched into motion, guided by an invisible force. His aunt used her magic to move the carriage and steer the wheel away from the place.

Arnold looked at the place for one last time, and he saw it it different than when they arrived this time. It is peaceful, filled with tranquillity as if it had been purified from the wicked spirit — actually, It is purified from the wicked spirit.

Then wordlessly, they departed from the place; not looking behind.

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

Writing in tags got a ball rolling and I'm thinking more and more about full ghost/bitter babysitter Vlad

Thinking about how Jazz and Danny grew up with ghost hunters as parents and a ghost as an uncle, the types of wrenches it throws into the family's relationships with each other...

Starting with the parents' perspective,

It's easy in the beginning to dismiss the paradoxical nature of ghost hunters having a ghost live with them, The Ghostbusters had Slimer, Fentonworks has V-Man. At the start, their tiny children can see and understand the difference between their friendly uncle Vlad (who at the start, looked like a pathetic wet kitten) and a 'real' dangerous ghost.

It's less easy when you and your old friend wind up in an arms race driven and perpetuated by both rational and irrational fear.

At the start when he looked human and his grudge was apparent but it was shown when he was passive-aggressively doing chores around the house and getting the kids ready for school, it was funny, guilt-trippy, sure, but also helpful. Now that the kids are teenagers and can do their own share of the chores and get themselves ready for school that grudge needs other ways to manifest and he can't break inventions and loom ominously on their bedroom ceiling forever.

"We're not *just* ghost hunters, there's more to our studies than dissection and having Vladdie around makes those other studies easier."

With time, turns into...

"Well, how would we know if our anti ghost forcefields and other ghost proofing gadgets work or not if we didn't have a ghost to test them on?"

With more time, turns into...

"This is the Fenton Ecto-Vaporizer, it turns every ghost caught in its rays into nothing but steam! Well, every ghost except the pesky patient because it grew immune to Blood Blossoms and effect amplifying serums 🙄"

And for the most part 'the ghost haunting our home for decades is immune to our shock collar and we need to make something stronger or he'll rip our spines out of our bodies and wear our skins like coats' is said in jest,

at the end of the day,

during those nights that SHOULD be silent but their guilty consciences make the whispers at the end of the bed recounting the day they not only killed, but dumped their best friend like garbage and fled the state that much louder as the bright red eyes of the vengeful spirit become their unwelcome night light...

They have to ask themselves will he kill them before or after the kids go to college?

From the kids' perspective... where do I even start?

Okay, good news is that they had a good tradeoff with a better childhood, I mean for starters their Christmases were a lot less nasty with Uncle Vlad and I strongly suspect that Little Danny's favorite Christmas story of all time was 'A Christmas Carol' as he'd love the christmas ghosts thanks to knowing his own 'christmas ghosts'.

And both kids grow up knowing that ghosts CAN be good people, they see their uncle lose his outer humanity over the years while they grow up and come to understand that just because a ghost can *look* mean and scary doesn't mean that they *are* mean.

Danny would likely have more 'tools' in his belt other than fighting. Sure, fighting's on the table if need be, but when it comes to different ghosts and their different issues, he'd likely stop and ask himself "Is this ghost who's screaming about a dance in need of a butt-kicking, or is she in need of some help?"

but as teenagers who can see that their family situation is NOT normal...

Jazz knows that there's more to Vlad's tragic story than 'I was really sick and your parents didn't visit me in the hospital :C'. She also knows he's not telling her.

Granted, nobody's really comfortable telling the girl one raised to adulthood that their parents murdered and abandoned them without a second thought,

But the whimsy and charm of 'oh look my uncle's a ghost' is lost when 1. you're not a kid anymore. and 2. getting him to be emotionally honest and upfront with you about his past is like pulling teeth.

Does Danny go to any of the adults when the accident happens? CAN he go to any of the adults when the accident happens?

It's established how he hates the idea of his parents getting a divorce, of losing his family, and at this point in time despite their attempts to hide it in front of him and Jazz, he can pick up that Vlad is not happy with or around his parents who in turn appear more and more uncomfortable with their old friend.

He knows that his mom and dad can put up with ghosts if they absolutely need to, but how will they take knowing that HE'S a ghost?

And how will Uncle Vlad himself take it?

He can trust him to teach him everything he knows about being a ghost, but at the same time, he's grown up watching Vlad destroy any and all inventions his parents make that seem too dangerous to them, so what would he do to his parents if he knew that 'their negligence killed him'?

[slytherhys]

12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

In the spirit of the Holidays, I will be writing & posting short stories about the ACOTAR characters for the next 12 days. Please note that some will be shorter than others and that this is simply meant to be a fun time for everyone that loves these characters as much as I do!

PS. I'm open to requests.

You can also find this series on AO3 - as well as all my other stories.

8th day of christmas - gingerbread house

CW: Explicit Sexual Content

No Crying Over Spilled Icing (Elriel NSFW)

Elain eyed the gingerbread house in front of her with something akin to misery. Only twenty minutes ago, when she had first taken the dough out of the oven, she had been immensely proud of herself – it had been baked to perfection, neither too dry nor too moist, with a beautiful golden-brown colouring and a smell so sweet Elain had fought herself not to eat the whole thing in one go.

Buttercream had been used to make intricate, delicate patterns on what would be the walls, as well as cute little tiles for the rooftop. Candies, too, had been used aplenty. It had looked promising. Beautiful even.

But that had been before she had realised one of the walls was cut too short – something Elain hadn’t noticed until she started setting everything together – giving the house a sort of crooked, haunted look that made it resemble more a Halloween decoration than a Solstice treat. The icing, of course, hadn’t helped either. The walls barely stuck together, and the rooftop was slowly falling to its demise. Elain watched it all unfold, unblinking.

A great architect Elain did not make.

When she had first told Feyre she’d be bringing her own gingerbread house – and not one of those sets the bakery sold every Solstice – she hadn’t been expecting a building made of dessert to be so damn infuriating. She was set to leave in an hour and a half, and she doubted she had the needed time to try it all over again. She doubted she could find the will to do it in the first place.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice startled her, her eyes finally turning away from the baked mess in front of her.

“A gingerbread house.” If it could be called that. It definitely didn’t look like one.

Azriel tilted his head, eyeing the house with a stoical expression. “Are those the ones from the bakery downtown?” His eyes flickered to hers. “Cassian had mentioned how he wanted to try and build one.”

Elain huffed, suddenly affronted. “Of course not.” Maybe she should have though.

He gave her a sheepish smile. “Right. Dumb question.” He narrowed his eyes, eyeing the eyesore with curiosity. “Why is it…slanted, though?”

“Well, first the icing melted,” She explained, hating the way her voice wavered. “And then the wall on the left was too short.” Azriel nodded along as if she was making perfect sense.  “And it smelled really good, so I might’ve eaten one of the windows and now it looks weird.” She dropped her eyes again. “By the cauldron, it’s barely salvageable.”

“Why not just take the side of the roof that’s slipping away? It could probably stand, even if it’d be a little crooked.”

She bristled. “Then it’ll be a gingerbread box.” He gave no indication whatsoever that this information alarmed him. “Az, no one wants to eat a gingerbread box.”

Azriel smirked. As if it were funny. “Calm down, princess.” He looked at the mess in front of them, going around the counter so he could stand by her side. “We can fix this.” He said, and Elain watched from the corner of her eyes as he came to stand right behind her instead, his arms going around her as he reached for the gingerbread in front of her.

“What are you doing?” She gasped.

“Why, helping you, of course.”

She highly doubted he was that innocent. His scent surrounded her, the heat from his body resting upon her skin as a gentle caress. It was all Elain could do to keep her eyes open, to follow his hands as he gently studied her creation. She could hear his steady breathing, quickly realising just how close he was to her. His lips were by her ear, his front pressing against her back every so often.

“Maybe we could do a tent instead?”

Elain frowned at the suggestion. It could work, even if it felt lazy to do so. She felt his hands on her hips, caressing her as she mumbled, “I suppose so.”

He seemed pleased by her quick acceptance, the feeling of his lips so faint against her skin, it was nearly unnoticeable. “Or just accept the defeat and do something else instead.”

 Elain hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes, but at the sound of his lewd proposal, she snapped them open, promptly stepping closer to the counter and stepping away from him. “You’re distracting me.”

“Am I?” He stepped closer once again, pressing his nose against her neck, his lips a breath away from touching her fevered skin. “You smell good.”

Elain nearly whimpered “That’s just the gingerbread.”

He pressed his mouth against her shoulder, nibbling softly as if he couldn’t help but taste her. “I’m pretty sure it’s you.”

She turned around, ignoring her erratic breathing. “I still need to bake another batch-” She gasped as she felt his hands on her waist, raising her so she was sitting on the counter before she could finish her sentence. “Azriel, we don’t have enough time for that.” Truth be told, she was doing very little to push him away.

Azriel, of course, noticed that as well.

“I think we have more than enough time, princess.” He said, voice raspy as he stepped even closer. Elain wasn’t sure where her body ended and where his began, but as he kissed her jaw, the corner of her mouth, it felt like the most urgent thing that he stepped even closer.

Elain nearly whimpered as he pulled away, panting as he grabbed the hem of her skirts, pulling them up at an agonising speed.

Elain, however, wasn’t to be deterred. “Someone’s cocky.” She said, far too breathy for it to mean much.

He raised an eyebrow, scarred hands trailing up her legs. “Is that a challenge princess?”

Elain ignored the goosebumps raising all over her skin, ignored the craving that seemed to throb with her every heartbeat. “If you’re up for it.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” A smirk was all the warning she got before Azriel pressed his face between her legs. Elain cried out, mindless with want. Her legs quickly wrapped around his shoulders, pressing him closer to her at the first touch of his tongue against her center. She was vaguely aware of leaning back on her hands, accidentally spilling what remained of the icing on the counter.

She couldn’t bring herself to care – she reached for his hair with her other hand, moaning as he devoured her. He moaned her name against her core as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He was a man starved, licking her, and fucking her with his tongue as if this was both the first and the last time he ever got to do this. The feeling of his large, scarred hands pulling her thighs apart, the scratch of his beard against her sensitive skin, it was all too much. Azriel had barely pushed a finger inside her before Elain was tumbling over the edge, his name on her lips as she bucked against his mouth over and over and over again.

“Sweetest fucking thing in the world.” He growled, more to himself than to her. He was panting, eyes dark as he took her in. She probably looked like a mess, panting, hands covered in icing, legs opened in a lewd display of her arousal. Elain felt herself blush under his scrutiny, but any embarrassment quickly faded as he took her mouth, his tongue seeking hers. “Turn around, princess.” He mumbled against her lips, helping her get down from the counter before lightly slapping her ass. “We’re on a schedule.”

Funnily enough, that was the furthest thing from her mind. Nothing mattered – not the party, not the spilled icing, not even the gingerbread house that had somehow ended up splattered on the kitchen floor. There was nothing but him. Not as he pushed inside her, his length stretching her as if it were their very first time together. Her every nerve-ending was on fire, her body craving him even as he filled her again and again. There were only the sounds he made as he rutted into her, the gentleness in his hands as he pulled her by her hair, the wantonness in the way he kissed her.

“You’re making such a mess, princess.” He panted against her ear, pulling down her corset, his hands quickly grabbing into her bare tits.

“Please.”

“Are you close?” Elain could do nothing but nod. He had barely pulled out of her when she was being turned around, her eyes quickly finding his as he pushed back inside in one swift move, as if he had never left. “I need to see you when you come.” And then he was wrapping her leg over his hip, filling her even deeper.

He wrapped his lips around her nipple, nibbling on the sensitive skin as his cock kept pounding into her. The feel of his mouth, of his cock… All Elain could do was scream out his name as she crashed, coming around his cock just as he spilled into her.

“Fuck.” He panted, hips still bucking against her.

Elain giggled, high on his touch. “Think I still have time to bake something?” She asked, shamelessly pressing her lips to his chest, his throat, his lips, taking them between her teeth and pulling gently. He hissed.

“Not if you keep doing that.” His gaze roved over her before finally settling on her eyes with a mischievous glint. “And I don’t think that gingerbread cake is salvageable anymore.”

Elain supposed not, but she wasn’t a quitter.

In no time – and with a lot of effort – Elain was kicking Azriel out of the kitchen, scrubbing every nook and cranny of the counter and busying herself with something else. Something quick that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

Or so she had hoped.  

“Where’s the gingerbread house?” Feyre asked only a few minutes later, eyeing the plain gingerbread cookies Elain had managed to bake in the measly thirty minutes she had been left with. Azriel, at Feyre’s question, gave Elain a heated stare, a smirk blooming on his lips as he casually strolled into the living room without a care in the world. Elain felt her cheeks heat up, pointedly ignoring her sister’s knowing smile. “Had a change of heart?”

Elain cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders as she made her way to the kitchen. “Sure,” she said. “let’s call it that.”

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Dear magisowo

I just moved into a new home, and, on paper, it had everything I needed: close to my university, walkable city, and no low hanging lights I can hit my horns on. On paper, that is.

See, the issue started the day I moved in. The landlord gave me my keys, and I went inside. The interior was nice, however, as I quickly discovered, my new home was already inhabited by a multitude of ghosts, who were, to their credit, just as confused as me.

They're not troublesome spirits, far from it, but i was under the impression that a landlord had to disclose things like this before you sign the lease. (But it is my first time renting, so i may be mistaken) Either way, the landlord isn't returning my phone calls.

According to Martha (oldest ghost in the house, very motherly) none of them were informed the house was even open to new tenants. We're willing to compromise and try to live together, but as of right now, it's.. crowded. I wasn't prepared for roommates and they weren't prepared for me. Do we have any legal options here? I'm not looking to get them kicked out, of course, just wondering if we could get compensation from the landlord.. or at the very least a second bathroom.

- sincerely, one very cramped were-goat

(With the supervision of Martha, Daniel, Priya, Micah, Suki, and Horace, amiable ghost-roomies)

Hello!

We’re sorry to hear you were taken by surprise in such a way! Let us first assure you that your landlord should indeed have told you that the building you were renting is haunted. Not doing so is a violation of the duty to disclose that every landlord has towards their tenants.

Even if your landlord was not aware of the haunting (which, though unlikely, is possible if they lack all second sight) it is still their responsibility to have their property inspected for such things. Considering you are Sighted yourself and are not opposed to sharing with the ghosts, we are guessing you’re not looking to get out of your lease, but it is certainly grounds to renegotiate your rent.

When it comes to the rights of your ghostly housemates, that is rather more tricky. Our current laws still state that the incorporeal cannot have legal possession of physical property, but there are various provisions in place to protect their well-being. The following people may be able to help you:

The Dial-a-Ghost Agency, experts in (re)housing haunting spirits. In case any of your housemates wish to relocate.

The neighbourhood mediums of our Medium-ation Programme. They usually mediate between people like yourself and the spirits haunting them, but they also have a great deal of knowledge on the ghostly and will be able to communicate with your housemates.

If necessary we can help you find a lawyer specialising in tenancy law, or an Incorporeal Entity Advocate that can look into your housemates' options.

Sincerely,

~ the MagISoWo Team  

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | How the Ghosts Stole Christmas (6x06)

‘Twas the night before Christmas on Larkspur Lane;

Ev’ry corner held loneliness, sadness and pain.

The house reeked of sorrow beyond all compare.

Indeed, ‘twas a time of dark, dark despair.

For many a moon we stayed dormant and still,

Awaiting some guests to our house on the hill,

For this singular night, yes– the one night all year

We’d be given a chance to spread holiday cheer.

But as the clock ticked further into the eve,

We worried that there might be none to receive;

Maurice in his topcoat and I, pale and gaunt, 

Lamented a Christmas with no one to haunt. 

When, what to our wondering eyes should appear 

But two such lonely souls (also suckers, my dear)!

They searched through the mansion, as their flashlights beamed

For ghosts —but in truth, for each other, it seemed. 

Our grayed, ghoulish faces grew flush with delight

As they crept through the hall —how delicious a sight!  

Foolishly thinking themselves to be brave,

They were perfect, exactly the targets we craved!

The one with red hair, spouting theories a-flurry

Was doing her best to get out in a hurry,

While her partner (so handsome!) wanted not a thing more

Than to keep her nearby for just one more dark floor.

In eighty long years, I’d never quite seen

Two hearts locked at impasse like these two had been;

Denying their feelings, year after year

Out of loneliness, pride, and a good dose of fear.

At eleven o'clock, the grandfather did chime,

Giving we two just an hour of time

To trap these poor souls in their own lovers’ pact —

Like Maurice and me, there’d be no going back.

Maurice took the tall man; I, Lyda, the dame,

As we worked to uncover their secrets and shame.

You see, ghosts can’t do much but mess with the mind,

And these two were a challenge with so little time.

Maurice began prodding him– Mulder, his name —

To help find the answers he couldn’t explain;

Run down his issues, a glum inventory

(All of them paramasturbatory)

I, Lyda, found Scully, the lass of the two,

A bundle of pent-up neuroses, ‘twas true;

Her unconscious yearning, though present, was faint

For her partner, displaying impressive restraint.

I had to give credit, for weakness she lacked;

Resisting that man was a heroic act!

But… in love with a gent who would only see ghosts?

A lovers’ pact? Please. These two had no hope.

We considered retreating back up to our beds

While the agents ran into brick walls in their heads.

But something about them had told us instead

These two star-crossed lovers were better off dead.

(You might fairly ask why a couple of ghosts

Would decide to become such abom’nable hosts,

But ‘ere you judge us for what happened that night,

Remember: they trespassed, thus earning our spite.)

A wee little push, then, was all they would need,

And eventually they’d watch the other one bleed.

We’d need all our tricks, it was well understood,

To get Dana and Fox ‘neath our floorboards for good.

Getting him to believe was a simple first leap,

Then surely she’d follow, like a redheaded sheep;

‘Twas easy as shooting two fish in a barrel

Or singing a well-trodden old Yuletide carol.

With glee we did watch as they squirmed on the floor,

Covered in blood, all trust broken, for sure.

Our events set in motion that one day they’d see

How amazing a true partnership could be!

But then, in a twinkling, we heard Mulder speak

In a voice that grew strong after starting out weak:

“You’re not shot,” he told Scully, to greatest avail,

And they both got up, leaving our fine plan to fail!

Grabbing her hand, they took off like the lark,

Sprinting away, lost to us in the dark.

Maurice was upset, and I, Lyda, distraught;

Our scheme to turn foursome had all been for naught.

But the spirit of Christmas, alas, was not lost

As my love took my own hand, whatever the cost;

‘Twas a night to remember, although it was done…

What more’s there to say? Even ghosts should have fun!

Read the Rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@admiralty-xfd

[birdiewritessometimes]

Hi, how are you? I really like your writing.

VCan you make a Halloween one with Sam Winchester? I had a dream.

EThey are friends and the reader has been hunting with them for some time. They are on a case on Halloween night, which is pretty scary.

S She likes Sam, but it's not mutual. You can write that they are in a house of mirrors, haunted house in a park, after a near death Sam kisses her.

VI saw that you are at university, there is no need to rush to write. Everything in its own time.

Near death experience

A/N: Hii! Thank you so much for requesting! I'm so sorry this took time, i had an exam yesterday so i had to study alot! I hope you like the story and i'm so sorry i didn't manage to get this out before Halloween <3

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Themes/warnings: Fluff, suspense, typical supernatural violence, blood, injuries, spirits

Word count: 2000-ish

Also, request someting if you want! <3

Please do not copy or translate my work!

The rotten floorboards creaked under your feet as you moved further into the old, abandoned house, Sam in tow. The air was cold and stale, your breath coming out in white clouds as your exhaled. The smell of mould was overpowering as you walked cautiously through what once was a kitchen. Your eyes scanned every nook and cranny as you and Sam moved slowly, your rifles with rock salt ready to use. The house was home to a particularly vindictive spirit and while you and Sam were looking for the object, its scythe, that tied it to earth, Dean was looking for the spirit’s bones.

You could feel Sam as you moved in unison, he was walking right behind you, so close that you could feel his warmth cut through the chill air. It didn’t help that it was Halloween night, making the veil thinner and spirits more powerful. You heard a creak behind you, making you turn quickly, bumping into Sam’s chest. You have had feelings for the man in front of you for quite some time now, but you had been too scared to act on them. The feeling of you being so close to him would make you blush on any other occasion, if it weren’t for the fact that you were staring a gnarly, dead, old man right in the eye over Sam’s shoulder. Your blood pounded in your ears with adrenaline. Sam turned around quickly, effectively shielding you behind him. He raised his shotgun and fired rock salt at the spirit.

“Sam!” You shouted when the spirit started to stalk towards you from behind. You could hear the spirit’s raspy breath as the vile stench hit your nose. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat as the spirit, in the form of an old man, limped towards you. The ghost lifted the scythe it held in its bony hands. Before it could come any closer Sam shot it again with the rock salt. You felt the adrenaline pound in your ears as you breathed heavily.

“You okay?” He asked you with those puppy eyes of his. You nodded slightly as you looked around what seemed to be the kitchen of the house.

“I’m sorry I froze.” You mumbled after you came down from the adrenaline a bit. He gave you one of those warm smiled before he gently squeezed your upper arm. The action made your heart flutter. Before your thoughts about the man in front of you could continue it hit you.

“Sam!” You grabbed his arm, your eyes wide, “the spirit has the scythe…” you trailed of.

“Which means we need to lure it out.” He continued, jaw clenched like he wasn’t too fond of the idea. You understood what it meant, you would be bait. You fit the profile of the spirits earlier victims and while you lured it out Sam would try to trap it.

“I’ll do it.” You said, determination filling your body. That is how you found yourself sneaking around alone. You became hyperaware of every little sound the house made, making you react to every little creak or drip of water. You were walking slowly through what you assumed once was a living room with a big fireplace when the stench hit your nostrils once again. The smell of rotting flesh mixed with ozone filled your senses as you frequently looked around for its source. Sam was hiding somewhere, ready to capture it. You heard the spirit before you saw it. The sound of its rattling breath and uneven footsteps came from behind you. You whipped around and faced the ghost, it was a few metres away, making its way towards you. You felt your heartbeat speed up as it neared, your finger gently resting on the trigger of your shotgun, in case. You just needed it to get close enough so Sam could close the circle of salt around you. The ghost’s rattling breath drew closer as it neared. You could see Sneak up behind it and close the circle. The ghost raised the scythe as you squeezed the handle of your shotgun to calm yourself. Your heartbeat rang in your ears as you were standing so close to the ghost that you could make out details in its face.

“Go!” Sam shouted; he had finished the circle just as the ghost let the scythe fall towards you. You reacted a split second to late. The scythe sliced your arm before you could fully throw yourself out of the circle of salt. The spirit trapped inside. White hot pain seared through you as the metallic smell of blood filled your nostrils. Your hand went up to clutch the vertical gash on your upper arm. It was bleeding heavily, making you dizzy. Your whole arm was covered in the crimson of your blood. You leaned against the wall as you sat on the floor and watched as Sam lit fire to the scythe and effectively also the spirit. You assumed that Dean had found the bones since the spirit vanished from the fire. The next thing you saw was Sam’s worried face as he gently patted your face to help you stay awake.

“Hey, y/n, stay awake for me yeah?” He said as he took of his overshirt and wrapped it around your arm to stop the bleeding. Your heavy eyes watched as the blue fabric turned dark with your blood. You felt Sam lift you up, bridal style, you were too tired to protest.

“Sam, I’m fine, just tired.” You mumbled as you closed your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder. He walked quickly out of the house, shaking you lightly to keep you from falling asleep.

“I know baby, I know, a little while longer before you can sleep.” He said as he shook you again. You felt light in your eyes, making you open them to see the headlights of Dean’s car. Everything felt muffled as you heard the door of the car slam shut and Dean’s voice.

“What happened?” You heard him ask, a hit of worry in his voice. You felt Sam place you on the cold metal of the hood.

“The scythe got her bad.” Sam answered as he untied his shirt around your arm, “She’s real tired, lost a lot of blood.”

“Well, she will be wide awake in just a minute, we need to stitch her up.” Dean said grimly as he placed something on the hood next to you, you were too tired to look what it was.

“Hold her, this won’t be pretty.” Dean then said. You felt Sam gently grab your arms. You were not fully grasping what were happening before you felt the painful, burning sensation of alcohol in an open wound, your open wound. Your eyes shot open, now wide awake as you let out a bloodcurdling scream. Sam leaned over you on the hood, caging you in as you tried to get away from Dean who was preparing a needle to stitch you up. You could feel Sam’s entire body pressed against yours on the hood but all you focus on was the piercing pain of Dean stitching your wound closed. You let out another scream as tears slowly rolled down your cheeks. Sams large, warm hand came up to your mouth, effectively silencing you.

“Shh, it’s soon over baby, you’re doing so well.” He said as he held you in place as you trashed against him, desperate to get away from the pain. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins, but it didn’t do anything to numb the pain. Your eyes met Sam’s soft ones as he shushed you once again.

“I’m so sorry, Dean is soon done, I promise baby.” He said, his eyes screaming of guilt. You calmed down a bit, your brain finally catching up to what was actually happening. You felt Sam’s hand move from your lips to gently pet your hair as his body was keeping yours still against the hood.

“Just a couple more.” You heard Dean mutter. The pain was unbearable as tears rolled freely down your cheeks. Sam’s fingers brushed them away as his eyes were looking over your face frantically.

“You heard that, just a couple more stitches, then we’re done.” He said gently as he ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. You tried to focus on his face, the worry in his eyes as Dean did the last stitch. The adrenaline of the pain subdued as Dean gently bandaged your arm before moving to put away what you assumed was the first aid kit. You felt more awake after this. Sam was still leaning over you on the hood as he gently grabbed you around your back to help you sit up. You felt dizzy again, you must’ve lost a lot of blood.

“How do you feel?” He asked quietly as he stood in front of you as you sat on the hood.

“Dizzy and in pain.” You croaked. He let out a breath before his large hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him in the eyes.

“I’m so sorry bab- y/n.” He caught himself; you managed a small smile at the man before you.

“Don’t you think that we’re past all this, Sam?” You whispered as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“What do you mean?” He asked, softly and you don’t know what made you say it. What it the near-death experience? Or was the lack of blood in your brain? You don’t know but you couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of your mouth next.

“This, us pretending we don’t like each other.”

“Y/n, I-”

“Kiss me, Sam.” You interrupted him. You never really thought that he would do it, you thought he would want to talk about it first, but the adrenaline must be in his veins too because the next thing you knew was Sam’s lips on yours. The kiss was slow but forceful. Your hands weakly gripped his shirt as his found your waist, desperate to get closer. The kiss was everything and more, his lips was soft, his hands warm and large as the moved to grip your waist under your shirt. You let out a soft moan on his lips to which he replied with tightening his grip on your waist.

“Who knew it would take some blood loss and a near-death experience to get you two to finally admit that you like each other.” Dean interrupted with a smirk. You and Sam parted, both startled by the older Winchester brother.

“Thanks Dean.” Sam muttered sarcastically before gently helping you down from the hood. You stumbled as your feet hit the ground, still affected by the blood loss. Sam gently held your waist to steady you, his puppy eyes making yet an appearance as he looked at you. You gave him a small smile as you held onto his shoulders as you stood on your toes and placed another soft kiss on his lips.

“Dean, you’re such a mood killer, but I need to rest, it feels like a truck ran me over.” You then said as you turned to Dean who was wearing a shit eating grin. Sam helped you into the backseat as he and Dean sat in the front. You quickly fell asleep, a small smile on your face. What you didn’t see was the matching smile Sam wore as they drove away.

[samynnad102687]

Marauderstober

Slytherin Skittles- Ouija Board

1597 words

Regulus was exhausted from working from open to close at the bookshop. He was supposed to get off four hours ago but Jess, who was supposed to train the new hire, decided that they didn’t want to show up, so he had to close the shop since nobody else could come in and he couldn’t leave the new hire, Jordan, by themselves.

He was dragging his feet when he walked into the house, but he noticed that something was off. Someone had let themselves in Regulus’ house without asking him or even letting him know they were planning on coming over. When he walked farther into the house, not caring if he got killed by an axe murderer at this point, he came face to face with a grinning Barty. Well, this should be interesting.

“I gave you a key for emergencies,” Regulus said as he pinched the bridge of his nose and noticed that Pandora, Evan and Dorcas were also sitting in his living room.

“This is an emergency,” Barty said but his face said it was anything but. Regulus arched up an eyebrow and waited. “I found something at a thrift shop that I want to try with you, well, with everybody actually.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“It will be fun,” Pandora chimed in and that didn’t not help ease his anxiety one bit.

“What is it?” He asked exasperatedly.

“A Ouija board,” Barty said with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Excuse me?” Regulus asked indignantly. “I know I did not hear you correctly.”

“I found a Ouiji board at the thrift shop when I was shopping with Evan and since it is October and spooky season, it’s the perfect time to try it out.” He was practically bouncing on his heels.

“Why did you have to bring it into my house? You have your own.”

“Yours is more likely to be haunted than mine is.” Barty shrugged.

“So…”

This was the last thing that Regulus wanted to do on his Monday evening, especially since he had to work extra long today. All he wanted to do was to come home and curl up on the couch with some ice cream and enjoy a nice quiet evening in, since James was working late and then helping Sirius with something. Regulus didn’t bother asking what he needed help with. Plausible deniability and all.

“Oh, come on, Reg… Please.” Barty begged as he put his hands together and practically fell to the floor. “Just once. I swear. If we can’t get anything then I won’t bring it up again.”

Regulus took a moment to look at Barty and then at everybody else. He could see they all wanted to do this and he was the only one holding out. He really didn’t want to know what spirits lingered in Grimmauld Place and he really didn’t want to accidentally call his mother to them with this thing. He wasn’t even sure if he believed in it.

“What do you do exactly?” Regulus gave in slightly, he needed more information.

“Everyone puts a finger on the triangle thingy…”

“Planchett,” Pandora supplied.

“Yeah, that and we ask questions to the spirit that may be hanging around and see if they have anything they needed to say and never got the chance to because they died before they could,” Barty explained and Regulus glared at him for a few more minutes.

As much as didn’t want to have his mother come and haunt him even more, it would be interesting to see if there were any other spirits floating around. Regulus knew there was but he didn’t know who they were or what they wanted.

“Fine, but if these spirits end up disturbing my peace anymore then I’m coming after your ass with an axe,” Regulus said matter-of-factly and he would do it too as soon as he figured out how he could get away with it.

“Yeah, okay. That’s fine.” Barty shrugged, “Where should we set it up?”

“How about the drawing room? There always seems to be shit happening in there,” Evan mentioned casually.

Regulus was going to deny it, but right then a vase fell onto the floor before they even crossed the threshold to the room. Fucking spirits. Regulus didn’t know why he still lived in this house. It’s not like he had any particularly happy memories growing up here.

“Fine,” Regulus grumbled.

Regulus finally took off his boots and set his bag, that he still had slung over his shoulder, down and followed the other four into the drawing room and watched as Barty put the Ouija board on the coffee table and everyone else took a seat on the floor around it. This is going to be a disaster.

Regulus sat down in between Pandora and Dorcas with Evan and Barty on the other side of the round table. They put the board in the middle and were all about to put a finger on the planchette when Barty suddenly jumped up and turned off the lights.

“It’s spookier that way,” Barty shrugged and returned to his spot on the floor. Regulus just shook his head but didn’t say anything.

“What should we ask first?” Pandora asked excitedly.

“Ooh, I know,” Dorcas said and put her finger back on the planchette and waited for everybody else to do the same.

When everyone had a finger on the planchette, Regulus sighed heavily. He was definitely not ready to find out who was haunting his house. He preferred to be blissfully unaware even though Sirius keeps swearing that the place is haunted and doesn’t like to spend a lot of time here, which is why he and Remus got a flat in downtown London and would only occasionally stop by unannounced.

“Are there any spirits in this room?” Dorcas asked, focusing on the board as it started to move slowly toward the yes.

“Who are you?” Evan asked eagerly.

Regulus knew his friends liked the spooky season, especially the closer it got to Halloween but he had never seen them this eager to talk to a spirit. The planchette started moving again and spelt out O-R-I-O-N. Great, his father was haunting him too. Regulus knew Orion had died in the house but he didn’t know how. He was off at school when it happened and he never did get the full story.

“How did you die?” Pandora asked curiously.

P-O-I-S-O-N.

Not surprising. Orion had a lot of enemies when Regulus and Sirius were growing up. There were always secret meetings that they were not privy to going on behind closed doors and last minute business trips to different countries where Orion would be gone for a week at a time.

“Do you know who poisoned you?” Barty asked this time.

Yes.

“Who?” Regulus heard himself ask before he thought about it.

W-A-L-B-U-R-G-A.

So much for a loving marriage. Not that Regulus really believed they loved each other. Lord knows they didn’t love their children. If they did, they had a funny way of showing it. Before anybody could ask the next question the planchette started to spell out something else quickly.

D-I-D N-O-T.

Oh, shit. Did his mother’s spirit just join to fight with his father?

“Who said did not?” Dorcas asked, a little stunned.

W-A-L-B-U-R-G-A.

Well, okay then. Guess this is happening now. As if Regulus didn’t have to hear them fight enough as a child. Now he has to deal with it with their spirits. Fuck his life.

Y-O-U P-O-I-S-O-N-E-D M-E F-O-R M-O-N-T-H-S.

They were barely touching the planchette anymore. It was moving too fast and they could barely keep up with what was being spelt.

“How were you poisoned?” Regulus asked, now more curious than before.

W-H-I-S-K-E-Y.

The next word came before anybody could ask a question.

L-I-E-S.

“Walburga, how did you die?” Pandora asked quickly.

K-N-I-F-E.

“Did you see who did it?” Evan asked. The planchette moved to the no before spelling another word.

I-N T-H-E B-A-C-K.

Okay, so his father was poisoned by his mother and his mother was stabbed in the back. Made sense. Regulus knew they didn’t die a natural death. They were still relatively young, all things considered.

Y-O-U D-E-S-E-R-V-E-D T-H-A-T.

Suddenly another vase went flying across the room and smashed against the wall, the lights started to flicker and the books started to fall off the bookshelf. Nope. Fuck this shit. Regulus was done. He really doesn’t need his parents haunting him anymore. Regulus grabbed the planchette and moved it to Goodbye.

“How the fuck do you end this thing?” Regulus asked angrily.

“You have to thank them and tell them goodbye,” Pandora supplied easily. Of course she would know.

“We thank you for your time and bid you goodbye,” Regulus all but shouted to be heard over the items crashing around the room and glared at Barty who threw his hands up in surrender.

Regulus stood up quickly and went to grab his phone out of his bag before turning back to Barty.

“Sleep with one eye open,” He threatened before hitting send on his phone.

“Hey, love. What’s up?” James asked cheerfully. Regulus could hear Sirius laughing in the background.

“Tell Sirius that we are staying at his flat tonight.” Regulus said firmly without giving him any room to question.

“Okay. Do you want me to come pick you up or are you gonna drive over?” James asked easily.

“Come pick me up. I’m at home.”

“On my way.” James said before hanging up, and Regulus went to pack a bag for them.

@clementinewoolf @cazzythefrogking @thebibutterflyao3 @lavenderhaze @literally-the-prettiest-star @emjayeingray @belowthestarrs @seiworf @maladaptivewriting @multiimoments

[preservationofnormalcy]

How much of the job is telling people 'get some fucking help' and how much of it is actually like, pleasant?

I would never use those words (because it’s inappropriate of me to do so on my job) but a lot of it is….yeah, gently guiding people in need to people who can help.

Before my…injury, I used to do a lot of field work. I was a lot of people’s first contact with the Office, often doing preliminary interviews, examinations, what have you, so we could determine what help, if any, was needed. A lot of times I was undercover, of course. Plumber, mundane law enforcement, animal control, social worker - I was a “paranormal investigator” more times than I can count. Sometimes the issue was someone’s imagination, or a badly built house, or they just needed someone to talk to. I also did a lot of what we call ‘intracommunity’ work, helping people who were already in the extranormal community. I knew a little about everything and got along with most everyone, not to brag, so I got to know people in various sectors of our community.

I was a lot of people’s point of trust with a system larger than they could really conceive of, much less interact with.

Those kinds of jobs sometimes ended….poorly. But often I got to help people, even if it was something simple. I really did treasure the look on people’s faces when they realized I was going to help them. Those are the moments that made the job worthwhile.

I remember once I helped an older woman in Chicago. By happenstance she’d had an Imp take up residence in her boot closet, and after a quick and dirty exorcism I kicked the little troublemaker out and got him back to the Board of Infernal Affairs.

The woman was so scared. When I told her it was gone, she gave me this look that made my blood run cold. The absolute terror in her face when she asked me what it had been. I told her an “evil spirit” - I was undercover as a member of Upper Chicago Paranormal at the time - and she kept clarifying that it wasn’t human, it wasn’t male, right? It wasn’t an old man.

Eventually she broke down, she grabbed me and sobbed into my chest. She was so, so scared that she was being haunted by her husband who’d passed the year prior in an accident. She had all this guilt and fear and regret and it was being expressed like this, and to hear me say it wasn’t him, that he’d moved on like he should, it was such a relief for her. I wanted so badly to break secrecy regulations and see if I could contact him for her, but I didn’t. I didn’t need to. I spent the afternoon listening to her cry and talk about him and show me pictures of him. That’s all she needed, the imp in her closet had just been an unfortunate circumstance.

Those are the times that help me remember why I do this. I’m just sad I don’t get as much of those moments, anymore.

[kirby-the-gorb]

reply roundup!

had to put these on hold for a while for personal reasons </3 they're likely to still be infrequent, but in honor of kirb2k!

(my notes would only load back to mid september so I missed a couple weeks sorry :c but be warned that this is a long one! it's 3 entire months' worth!)

also, reminder that kirb2k ends tomorrow!!! preorders, commissions, and auctions will all close at noon pst on sunday december 17th! everything is linked in the pinned post or filed under the tag kirb2k!

first is one more birthday kirb from my friend @sleepy-sheep-wizard:

Realized halfway thru that I don’t know what Kirby looks like off the top of my head, so I got funky with it. Happy birthday, thank you for being a good friend

thank you again friend <3 getting funky with it is truly in the spirit of just drawing a little guy for fun, I love his little hat in particular.

on [mirror] @shapeshifterwithafez said: uuuh is Scherben bringen Glück/ Shards bring luck a universal saying? sounfs clinky as a direct translation. anyways in germany we say that shards of stuff you broke brings luck so I hope the luck finds you or smth sorry for rambling ^^

I'd never heard this saying before, but I think it's very sweet! thank you for sharing it with me :)

on [pipefight] @hauntedppgpaints said: goalies with a skate blade and their stick in hand

big hockey vibes for real yeah lol

on [pink] @gaydiation-poisoning said: ...I wanna eat that pink

honestly same, it's sooo pleasing

on [rain] @hive-heart said: Everything alright, daily kirby guy?

not really but sitting by the window in the rain is a good thing lol thanks for asking <3

(also the person who tagged that same post myhouse.wad made me laugh)

on [photo] @ceylonsilvergirl [added] a picture of their cat and said: get adored idiot!! see the hate in her eyes? I’ll make her love me yet!!

me @ my partner's cat

@violet-dragongirl said: oh! I have been meaning to ask! Have you played Kirby and The Forgotten Lands? I assume you did but just wanted to say that I did about a week ago and I loved it and thought of your art! ^.^ And if you haven't, yes, Carby is super adorable and amazing :3

I have! I got it very shortly after it came out, I had a really good time with it. I've been slowly replaying it recently with my partner, they were kind of fond of kirby just by proxy but since we started playing they adore bandee now and say he never gets enough screen time XD I'm glad you also had fun!

on [mice] @ceylonsilvergirl said: girls like swarms of things, right?

idk bro my wife wasn't so big on it when I got a gig housing 30 mice, but maybe she's weird. I liked them. (sadly one of the best paying jobs I've ever had up until the owner lost it and abandoned them with me, yes I still took care of them for the rest of their little lives) (and yes I also got my wife's okay before I took them on in the first place)

on [covid] @mordantivore said: reading posts from when the era of covid safety was declared anathema and ended is haunting. we were so desperate to find ppl willing to help us stay alive. there are fewer of us now bc “allies” are worthless & more of us have died

yeah. fuck. I'm lucky that the people in closest proximity to me are at least moderately careful, but me and my wife and partner are usually the only ones wearing masks anywhere we go except sometimes the employees and I know they don't always wear them when they're out without me.

on [swim] @northeasternwind said: Jdjdjfkg imagining Kirby being way more bouyant than your average human so them gotta exhale REAL HARD or attach nega-floaties (sinkies?) like weights to dive

lol yeah they probably gotta try So Hard to actually get under the water. (I think diving weights/ballast is a thing that humans use too? I've never gone diving, having my face underwater stresses me out -n- )

on [float] @nickiemoot said: he has to go now. his planet needs him. *slide whistle*

I can only hear this as that one similar part from one of the asdfmovies, it delights me

@vampiricarus said: if you see this just know i love your art so much

aww thank you! <3

anonymous said: just wanted to say I love Kirby and I love your art! I’m always excited to see it on my dash. thank you for bringing a little joy to my life :) I need it once in a while like I’m sure a lot of others do too! Keep up the good work :))

thank you! drawing a little guy brings me a little joy too, I'm glad it can do the same for others <3

on [drain] @ceylonsilvergirl said: I’m sorry you’re having a rough time. Existing is hard work sometimes. A lot of the time

fuck dude it sure is <3 especially when my body keeps trying to shut down lol

on [mud] @why-are-all-the-fun-urls-taken said: Hey man are u doing ok

I am not, thanks for asking <3

on [tummyache] @hobgirl said: :o kirby the gorb why would you do that!!!!! why!!!!!

I didn't want it to go to waste!!! everyone is dumb sometimes!!!

on [wizard] @eau-the-agony said: not enough appreciation in the wizarding world for garlic salt spell. its all kung pow penis tgis and ketamine ape that. not enough of the small joys which carry us through the horrors like a dinky garbage raft

you are so right. the small joys are the most powerful of all.

on [wizard] @beepbeepdespair said: somehow didnt know garlic salt was a thing until this moment. now i really want some. i think i just found a kg of it online for 12 quid??

I am so pleased that you now have the knowledge of Garlic Salt Spell, I hope you got to try it out for yourself :D

on [zelda] @chaos-squared said: Good job!! I’ve had it for longer yet still haven’t completed it ;w;

nothing wrong with that! I only finished it as quickly and thoroughly as I did because I was basically bedridden for all of october, as long as you enjoy the time you do spend with a game it doesn't really matter how much time you spend or how far you get.

on [brave] @gudetamalover said: me tomorrow afternoon when I get all four wisdom teeth out

I'd already had several other oral surgeries on account of Weird Teeth before I got my wisdom teeth out but it still knocked me on my ass for a couple days, I hope your recovery went as smooth as possible! (altho that was also like. 15 years ago. and general anesthesia has gotten a lot better since then.)

on [shiny] @angst-and-fajitas said: Like to slap his bald head reblog to slap his bald head

bald! bald! bald! bald!

on [powerwash] @chronicdilf said: decemberb 16 im goign to walk across the damn stage get my damn diploma folder im going to go home and POWERWASHER SIMULATOR JUST LIKE KIRBY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yeah!!! you're gonna do it!!! you might be doing it right now even!!!

on [cooked] @hobgirl said: oh mood kirby..... struggling with the very last paper i need to write before i can graduate and its got me feeling this way fr

ough, I hope you made it through your paper! lots of people graduating tho that's so cool, congrats to both of you!

on [bears] @jupiterlandings said: I get so happy every time I see Cake and the name Cake being tagged :)

it's such a good name for a bear, I'm grateful you thought of it!! especially given the best I could do for the other one was "kirbear" lol

@violet-dragongirl said: omg seeing that Fav Grobs Post you recently put up makes me so happy! over a thousand (and then some!) GORBS?! :D I'm not only impressed but so proud ya made it this far and I'm so glad you got possibly more to go of Kirby!! :D!! Really great job 🥰🥰

thank you! I'm gonna hit 2000 days of drawing kirby tomorrow, that's so wild!

on [popular] @timeturner-jay said: Op your Kirby art brings so much utter joy you have no idea <3

yay I'm glad <3 I love to draw a little guy, it's good I'm not the only one having fun lol

I got a lot of "good blaze op" on the [macarena], and you're all correct, thank you for recognizing my great decision making B) (I'd been meaning to add the music and blaze it from basically the moment I drew it, I've just been really sick so it took a while.)

(also even if I don't always gather them in the roundup there are names I recognize showing up repeatedly in the tags, some of whom have been here for years, and I'm always glad to see you're still around!)