#i guess the ghost of my namesake is haunting me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jungle-angel · 2 years ago

Note

Please write Halloween/Fall Prompts “48. Haunted Mansion” with the squad x platonic fem reader

EEEEEEEEEEEKKK!!!!!! Babes, I'm screaming!!! I have the perfect idea for this!!! hee hee

New Orleans, Louisiana

Halloween Night, 2022

The giggles of a wispy little girl ghost filled the halls of the huge, spooky looking mansion, knocking on the doors and causing a commotion in the halls, waking almost all of the Dagger Squad from a late afternoon nap.

Bob startled awake at the noise, nearly knocking his glasses, his crystals and several small statues of his family deities off the little altar shelf next to his bunk bed. "God, why is it always this hour of the night when she's doing this?" he groaned sleepily.

"She's a ghost Bob," Phoenix mumbled, rubbing the grog out of her eyes. "And the worst part is, she's eternally five-years old."

A black cat screamed in the hallway before skittering into the room. Two more ghosts zoomed down the halls while Rooster stumbled his way in, still groggy from the nap and the cat curling about his ankles. "Should I threaten her with an exorcist now? Or wait until after the party?" he yawned.

"We'll see how she is later," Phoenix said, pulling her black hair into a ponytail. "I heard it's supposed to be a good one this year."

"Yeah you know how they are down here," Rooster said. "They go all out for Halloween."

A startled yell echoed down the hall from one of the bathrooms as Coyote ran out in nothing but a towel. "CLARY!!!!! You'd better knock next time or I'm calling an exorcist!!!!" Coyote bellowed.

"Guess I didn't need to threaten he this time," Rooster chuckled.

Bob shook his head as he climbed down from the bunk, reaching for his glasses that had been tucked away in the little niche along with everything else. He disappeared to the bathroom to go and get cleaned up while Phoenix lit a few sticks of incense and stuck them in the little holder, the image of her namesake emblazoned a bright gold on a piece of blood red silk amongst fiery elements and family deities that controlled fire.

(Y/n) stuck her head in a minute later once Rooster and Bob had disappeared. "Hey Nat?"

"What's up (y/n)? Glad to see you're finally awake."

"Yeah you can thank Clary for that one," you said with a roll of your eyes. "Do you mind helping me with the hair? It's gonna be a little tricky."

"Oh honey, hair and makeup are my expertise," Natasha chuckled. "C'mere and we'll do each other's."

You and Natasha gladly did each other's hair and makeup, carefully applying what needed to be applied before helping each other on with the masks that went over your eyes. God, you two were going to look gorgeous, and the guys? Everybody there would be head over heels for them.

"Oh my God, Nat you look like you're gotta set the whole place on fire!!" you said excitedly.

She looked amazing, all in red and gold, the shoulder pieces forming birdlike wings that went in a gentle gradient from smokey black to bright and burning shades of red, orange and yellow. You however were something to behold all on your own, your hair done up with a thin string of pearls laced into the braiding. All around your eyes were clear little dustings of silver glitter and your sheer, white dress showing just enough cleavage for the boys to look and keep guessing. Natasha practically gasped when she saw the thin little angel wings on your back, wondering if indeed you had flown to earth.

"Bestie!!!!!" she gasped, clamping her hands over her mouth. "(y/n) seriously, you look amazing!!!!"

"You like it?" you asked excitedly.

"I think she looks positively stunning," chortled a voice.

You both looked up to see Essie, one of the more wild and feral ghosts who spent her days flitting about the garden and making the Spanish mosses on the willows shudder with her breezy touch. Her transparent and wispy form stuck her head out from the ceiling, giggling like a smitten schoolgirl as she hung upside down. "You ladies are going to make the boys go crazy," she giggled.

"We'd better," Phoenix told her. "We put alot of work and effort into this."

"Oh darling, the hard work is only the half of it," Essie replied, dangling by her ankle from a ghostly rope, reminiscent of The Hanged Man. "Perhaps a little teasing here and there in the bedroom will rile them up a little."

"You think that will work?" you asked, knitting your eyebrows together.

"Well, your friends, Hangy and Roo-Roo seemed to think so," Essie cackled.

Yours and Natasha's jaws hung opened wide in shock. "YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!!!" you blurted out.

Essie cackled again and apparated quickly back into the ceiling before you had a chance to throw Natasha's hairbrush at her. "She's gonna get it one of these days," you hissed.

Natasha laughed and shook her head. Mickey stuck his head in soon after. "You ladies ready?" he asked.

"Hell yeah we are," you told him.

Mickey took both you and Natasha on each arm, all of you ready for one hell of a night, where the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead was to be lifted, all of you celebrating not death and darkness.....but life itself.....wonderful, beautiful, joyous life.

#top gun maverick #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia #jake hangman seresin #robert bob floyd #reuben payback fitch #bradley rooster bradshaw #javy coyote machado #pete maverick mitchell #dagger squad #dagger squad haunted mansion au #dagger squad halloween

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satanisnotapogostick · 3 years ago

Text

sam playlist liner notes

1. jesse got trapped in a coal mine – goodnight, texas

dean picking sam up from stanford in the pilot: jesse getting trapped in the coal mine

(he never DID marry his girl)

2. me and bobby mcgee – kris kristofferson

to me, me and bobby mcgee is about when sam runs away from dean and hangs out with meg before she outs herself as a demon

3. dorothy - mewithoutYou

“one turned into sr. Margaret, and I said "if you can change your shape that easily can you take the form of my dead father?”… then last night I was somewhere near virginia rebuking satan with ironic faithfulness. and satan turned to me: have you thought much about that cry?"

lucifer AND john themes???? yes.

4. life during wartime – talking heads

this song is sam adjusting to being a hunter and being at war, where he’ll stay for the rest of his life <3

5. this is how we do things in the country – slim cessna’s auto club

ok so this song is about sam killing madison. when you murder the girl you’re sweet on but it’s righteous and everyone thanks you for it. this is how it’s always been! this is how we do things in the country! (and also getting amy killed, a little bit, but that hasn’t happened yet. this is still early seasons)

6. clampdown – the clamp

“the voices in your head are calling. stop wasting your time, there's nothing coming, only a fool would think someone could save you… but you grow up and you calm down, and you're working for the clampdown.”

damn maybe we’re not the good guys. anyway!!

7. smith & jones forever – silver jews

smith & jones (salmondean) together!! forever!!

8. everything you did – steely dan

oh bro you slutted around with a demon and let satan out. what have you done

9. tortoises all the way down - mewithoutYou

“everybody knows, son. everybody knows what you've done!!”

just crazyass guilt song

10. up jumped the devil – nick cave

the tiger. he destroyed his cage. yes. YES. the tiger is out.

11. (ghost) riders in the sky – marty robbins

“then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride. tryin’ to catch the devil herd across these endless skies”

just s5 endless chase vibes

12. needle in the hay – elliott smith

demon blood detox time baby

13. emperor – mark lanegan

“why can’t I get right? all these demons to enslave me. who’s left to fight? oh, just the emperor.” the emperor being lucifer. obviously.

14. skating away (on the thin ice of a new day) – jethro tull

they have the horseman rings!! sam’s about to jump into the cage!! your world is about to end, but it’s okay!! you’ve done it!!

15. the passenger – iggy pop

and lol now he’s possessed by lucifer

16. the mercy seat – nick cave

okay now we’re at stull and he’s REALLY going to the gallows (jumping in)

17. when you die - MGMT

I imagine this song happening during the fall itself from stull into the cage. honestly this is a weaker entry but like. haha tfw you die

18. fifteen feet of pure white snow – nick cave

thee cage song.

“I waved to my neighbot, my neighbor waved to me. but my neighbor is my enemy. I kept waving my arms til I could not see, under fifteen feet of pure white snow. is anyone out there please? it’s too quiet in here and I’ve beginning to freeze. I’ve got icicles hanging from my knees, under fifteen feet of pure white snow”

you’ve even got icy temperature themes!

19. loverman – nick cave

yeah <3

“there’s a devil waiting outside your door (how much longer?) there’s a devil waiting outside your door and he’s bucking and braying and pawing at the floor and he’s howling with pain and crawling up the walls…. loverman!!! till the bitter end!!! while empires burn down forever and ever and ever and ever amen”

nick cave count: 4

20. satan it’s you – jett screams

@polishnatural recommendation. cellmates (and bunk buddies) with the devil in hell type vibes

21. relax, take it easy - mika

the war has already been won and nothing that happens in here has any effect on the real world. why not relax into the simplicity of it all!! (sometimes it’s just better when things are bad type vibes)

22. don’t lose your temper - xtc

we’re out of the cage! and starting strong with a mocking song bc he already lost his temper and grew mild and that’s why he’s too tired to fight. so this is the only hallucifer era song on the playlist

23. first wave intact – secret machines

war metaphors. extended wars. unwinnable wars.

“I wonder what you're waiting for. I wonder what you're working for. I wonder what you're living for. I wonder what you're dying for”

same king

24. mexican war streets - mewithoutYou

“but how long before our tails are caught by our "free" thought?” INDEED

“nature had another plan (& failed to run it by me!) nature had another plan, some other surrogate self to live in the sediment of so many somebody elses' innumerable lives and you were right: it's not a person who dies but worlds die inside us”

SO TRUE. we’re fully breaking into late seasons here

mwY count: 3

25. screen shot - swans

these are all sam’s meditation mantras. he’s offering a course: how to become okay with really horrible situations that you are also complicit in. “love! now! breathe! now! love! now! breathe! now!”

26. god’s away on business – tom waits

IT WASN’T GOD IN YOUR HEAD SAM

27. when the lights come on – they might be giants

when the lights come on (when lucifer brings you back to life)

28. light’s on

TWO songs about sam’s resurrection at lucifer’s hands??? yeah ;)

“the lights are on, you don’t know just who your friends are. the lights are on, and it’s light you’ll never know”

29. devil’s resting place – laura marling

I mean. yeah. his time in the cage with the devil coming back to haunt him

30. failure - swans

see my edit that I won’t link bc I can’t find. but anyway yeah. this guy fails a lot

31. last song about satan – slim cessna’s auto club

ding dong the devil is dead!!

32. president – max frost

@girlkingsam recommendation. late seasons sam vibes for sure. plus this song can be read as being about hell politics which is fun. I don’t give a damn who’s president (of hell)!

33. the road goes on forever – the highwayen

cycles of violence, etc. the road goes on forever, nothing ever (really) changes. (also yes sonny is dean and sherry is sam. I guess)

34. careers in combat – parquet courts

the namesake of my little fanfiction.

“there are no more summer lifeguard jobs, there are no more art museums to guard. the lab is out of white lab coats cause there are no more slides and microscopes. but there are still careers in combat my son!!!”

king of hell ending please please you’re nothing. anyway he’s been at war his whole life and war is his legacy. anyway.

#I promised didn't I #the things I do for sam supernatural

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shatterflowerdemon · 4 years ago

Text

I found

Words: 1,517

Reader & UT Sans & UT Paps & Error & Ink & Gaster

Notes:

This came to me as I was cleaning. Please note that I am not very familiar with Error and Ink. I just see pretty designs and write. I haven't abandoned my other reader inserts, but the big wheel in my brain has been landing on 'oneshot' for days. I also post on mobile so I can't chop this.

"Oh fuck. Am I dead? I knew I shouldn't have had that pasta!" Everything that surrounds you is white. "Holy shit? Did I make it to heaven? Unexpected."

"Ahem."

You scream and jerk, managing to scuttle back where you rest on the...floor? It's hard to tell in all this one shade of white. Then you look up. "Oh my fucking god, I am in heaven!" you yell before slapping yourself on the mouth. A skeleton that looks a lot like Ink- from that one AU on Tumblr- looks at you like you've grown a second head.

"Right, okay, back you go," he says, bringing his paintbrush down as if to strike you.

"What the fuck?" you roll out of the way. "Uh, watch where you point that thing!" He sighs and twirls it in this direction.

"Don't make this difficult."

You decide that you would prefer to, not liking the idea of the easy route. Hitting your elbow on the floor hurt. Isn't heaven supposed to be fun and painless? You can feel your heart thumping from adrenaline, too. Regardless of whether or not you're having a fever dream, you are very alive.

Ink attempts to slather or catch you in what looks like his namesake. You scramble and dodge, but the routine is tiring you out quickly. Then, right as you're cornered (in an invisible corner, of fucking course,) a hole opens.

"Dude, you left your- Uh." Error looks between you and Ink, clearly not understanding. "Scarf..."

Ink swings his paintbrush (Broom? Roomie? You forgot) down to rest at his side. "Oh, thanks! I didn't even notice. Just lay it somewhere. Gotta fix this first." You avoid another splatter, feeling like you're on the other end of mickey in that one Wii game with the paintbrush.

"Why's it so empty?" Error asks, glancing around.

"Just did a mass wipe. Decided a fresh canvas was in order."

"Oh. Okay."

You groan, dodging another splatter. "Why the fuck am I even in the doodle sphere?!"

Ink frowns. Error whistles, low and long. "Wow, you accidentally drug a creator here?"

"Shut up." Ink shoots again but misses widely.

Error snickers. "Let me handle this, squid." You watch his hands raise and remember what Error does for a living.

"Fuck no!" You scream, flailing and losing your balance. One minute, you're standing in a white room, and the next, you're nowhere.

It feels like you're falling for eternity. Darkness swims in your vision, making your brain try to fill in the gaps by tricking you with false images. If you scream, you sure can't hear it. Numbness creeps in.

A white oval emerges. Then it stays. Its not a false image? A form takes shape as if your eyes had to adjust. Half circle eyes, two cracks, and a thin smile. The body of spilled ink.

"Gaster." He makes a series of strange noises. Wingdings? "I'm sorry, I can't understand. I- I'm in the void, aren't I?" He nods, and two ghostly hands form before your very eyes. He holds them out to you. "Do you know the way out of here?" Another nod. You take his hands. His figure appears as if it's dissolving, then when you look down, you look the same, like a ghost. The hot iron of fear strikes you. "Wai-"

Your sound is cut out. Once again, for the umpteenth time today, your mind blanks out. An uncomfortable trend.

The first thing you register is cold. It's on your back, arms, head, everywhere. The next is something wet. You groan and shift. Why can't you be left to sleep in peace? WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE. You sit up quickly, disturbing the snow that had been blanketing you before. Something white and fluffy yelps. Your vision clears. Oh! It's a dog.

"Hey there, little guy. Thanks for the wake-up call." The dog barks cutely. You pet it, encouraged by the furious wagging of its tail.

A figure emerges in the distance, but it's hard to see through the snowfall. Whoever they are, they must be tall. Maybe someone on a rescue team? That'd explain the dog. You must have been drugged or passed out somewhere. It couldn't have been a long time since you're still alive in this weather. All your limbs have circulation, and you can't smell rotting flesh.

"DOG! UGH, I KNEW THE RED LEASH WAS SUPERIOR!" An odd sentence for someone on a rescue team, but you let it slide. Any help is better than no help. "OH. A HUMAN." Well, what else would you be? A bear?

"Hello? Do you know where this is? I think I hit my head or something." That would explain the hallucination.

"OH NO! A HURT HUMAN!"

It's like your heart stops and speeds up all at once. Papyrus is tall and a little foreboding at this angle. His scarf flaps in the wind that is currently picking up. He makes quick work of helping you up. The dog stays close by, tail wagging furiously.

"THIS IS NO SORT OF WEATHER FOR A HURT HUMAN! I'LL TAKE YOU HOME AND FEED YOU. MY SPAGHETTI IS WORLD-CLASS."

There's no other option than to agree. If this is a hallucination, you won't fight it. Maybe you're lucid dreaming? Intense focus does nothing to change your situation. Not a lucid dream, then. Papyrus carries you and the dog through the storm, who happily snuggles close to you. At least Papyrus blocks the wind blowing towards the two of you. He chatters the entire way to his house. Instead of the familiar house you were expecting, he brings you to a different one. It's a large log cabin with no porch. It looks like they bought more string lights.

"REST HERE, AND I'LL MAKE YOU SOME WARM FOOD." Papyrus sets you down on a kitchen chair, swiping a quilt and tossing it over you. The dog (presumably annoying dog) settles on your lap as if he owns it. You say nothing. Papyrus returns with a plate of steaming spaghetti and water. "I MUST APOLOGIZE. THE FOOD IS REHEATED SINCE I DIDN'T EXPECT YOU. PLEASE DO NOT MAKE IT A HABIT TO NAP IN SNOW POFFS." The spaghetti is great.

"Thank you, this is great. Uhm, weird question, but where are we?"

"MY HOUSE, OF COURSE!" he replies with a warm smile.

"I think they meant geographic location, paps."

And as if Tumblr hadn't already whooped your ass, here arrives Sans Undertale. Where's a dramatic cue of Megalovania à la trumpet when you need it? Honestly, the very last skeleton you wanted to see. It's like your Sans phase is coming to haunt you. Maybe today is just 'the attack of 2010's fandom.' The switch port could not have possibly done less to prepare you for this.

"Uhm, hi," you say. Sans plops himself down across from you at the kitchen table.

"hey. what's up?"

You make an awkward face. "I have no idea where I'm at or how I got here."

Sans takes it all in stride, pulling up your location on google maps and letting you take it all in. It's a country you've never heard of in your life. You rub your hands over your face and feel like crying. Papyrus, out of the goodness of his heart, offers you their couch for the night.

"hey, paps, why don't you get the human some bed stuff?"

"GASP. YOU'RE RIGHT, BROTHER." Aaaaand Papyrus is gone, taking the stairs two at a time.

"so, I couldn't help but notice you had a lot on your mind. penny for your thoughts?" He holds up said coinage, and it earns him a chuckle from you. Sans laughs himself and sets it on the coffee table.

"I promise I'm not insane, but I'm not from here, and I have no memory of this country. At all." Sans' expression betrays nothing. He closes an eye socket.

"eeh, figured that was the case." He sees your startled expression and shrugs. "I'm good at reading people. what do ya remember?" You close your eyes. The memories roll through, starting with a field of white.

"Black. A lot of it. Something...white?" You gasp, and the name flies between your lips before you can stop it. "Gaster."

Sans jerks, and your eyes fly open. He stares at you like he's seen a ghost. Sweat rolls down his skull. "how-" You can feel the frustration from your day boil over, forming tears that roll down your cheeks in thick globs. You sob into your hands, trying to hide it.

"there there," Sans says, patting you on the back. You finish crying quicker than you expected.

"Sorry. It's been a day." Sans nods and drops his hand. It lays limply at his side. "Guess I gotta fess up now. There's no easy way to say this, but I think you of anyone in this universe would understand." Sans watches with bated breath, apprehension bleeding through his sole eye light.

"I'm not from this universe."

"sheesh. and here I was thinking you were a mage or something. what a relief."

#my work #undertale #undertale fanfiction #fanfiction #self insert #gender neutral reader #sans #Papyrus #Ink sans #Error Sans

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your-anxious-nightmare · 6 years ago

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Song of the Savior

I had this idea, but I can’t write for shiz at the moment so have a bullet point fic that’ll make you cry. It gets better, I promise, only because I don’t wanna leave my babies in pain.

Virgil and Remy are married

Virgil is a singer, kinda famous but only in America. Remy is a Barista at a cat cafe run by his college friend.

They were best friends since middle school, and during their first year of college, Remy is diagnosed with cancer.

They both drop out a month later.

They got married at 22 (Remy) and 24 (Virgil) because Remy doesn’t want to spend his life without Virgil and he’s living what he has to the fullest

Virgil’s manager, Patton, is kind and doesn’t make him do anything without Remy coming along

He knows it’s tough for both boys and holds his own husband, Logan, just that little bit tighter every night.

They go bungy jumping and have s*x in a restaurant bathroom and eat caviar.

Remy gets worse, the treatment isn’t working.

Virgil refuses to let Remy say ‘when’, only ‘if’. Neither really wants to admit that it’ll happen.

Virgil writes him a song and performs it on a talk show, ending in tears and falling asleep in his lover's arms in the dressing room.

Patton announces Virgil’s hiatus when Remy is given four months.

They stay home most days, Remy’s too sick to go out much, and watch movies and eat popcorn.

It’s only a month later when his lungs decide they don't wanna work good no more.

They’re at the cafe, having lunch when it happens. Remy starts gasping for air and Virgil shouts for someone to call an ambulance as he holds his husband and tries to help, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Remy is admitted indefinitely and put on oxygen tubes. They speak funny and feel like he needs to sneeze but Virgil still thinks he’s cute.

A week later, Virgil’s singing to his husband when he holds up a hand.

“Virge...I want you...to promise me... something” He’s out of breath and tired but he manages okay.

“Anything, my love.”

“When I go...”

“Don’t-”

“When I go...You gotta keep...living, okay?... You gotta live...like it’s your last day...Don’t let the...darkness win okay?... You can’t...give up because...I’m gone... Live because I can’t.”

“I will Remy. I promise.”

“I love you... Always and Forever.”

“Always and Forever Remy.”

That night, they’re holding hands when Remy closes his eyes. Virgil feels his hand tighten before he goes, and the loud beep fills teh room.

Tears stream like there’s no tomorrow and Virgil sits there until the Nurses make him leave.

He locks himself in the spare room when he goes home, he can’t even look at teh bedroom he used to share.

Patton has to get Logan to break down the apartment door a week later because he hasn’t heard from the younger man and he’s terrified of what could’ve happened.

The find him curled up on teh floor outside his bedroom, tear stains on his cheeks and half a PB&J sandwich next to him

He hasn’t eaten much, the sandwich was probably the third thing in the whole week, and he couldn’t stomach much of it.

Patton covers him in a blanket and tidies up teh house as Logan makes some pasta.

Virgil wakes up to Patton smiling weakly and bursts into tears again.

His sobs still haunt Patton’s dreams.

With Logan and Patton’s help, Virgil gets back on his feet, and two months later he writes his first song in ten months.

Patton cries when he hears it, but they record it nonetheless and release it as a single. The cover is a picture of Remy, one where he’s sitting in the window, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee and head lazily rested against the glass.

No one knows who it’s about, Virgil wasn’t openly out about his relationship, they knew he was dating someone (all his songs had some mention of a man), but he never takes off his wedding ring any more.

Two years later, Virgil finally cleans his apartment. Remy’s things are packed away, he can’t bear to get rid of them so they’re in a storage locker nearby.

He keeps his husband’s leather jacket and all the picture of them on their wedding day. He wears the jacket every time he performs and the picture sits on his bedside table.

He may seem like he’s coping, but most nights he finds himself at the bar on the corner. His go-to drink is vodka (Remy's favourite) and stumbles home at ungodly hours to an empty house and an even emptier heart.

It’s mostly the same people there each night and they know not to bother him in teh corner.

One night, a newcomer arrives.

He sits at the bar and talks to the bartenders and makes himself at home

He comes around every few nights and dances and makes out with random drunk patrons

He’s with a really tall guy when he notices the sad man sat in the corner alone.

He asks around but get’s the same answer.

“Who’s the guy over there? Why’s he alone?”

“Just leave him be, he’s been through a lot.”

So he takes it upon himself to make him smile.

The first time he sits across the booth he gets a glare scarier than his Abuela’s and runs off not two seconds later.

The next day he buys the man a drink and sits across from him for ten minutes in silence before leaving.

This goes on for a few weeks.

The man will enter the bar, get a drink, talk to random folks, dance a little, buy two vodka whatevers and sit with teh sad man for ten minutes before he goes home again.

One day, the sad man looks up and utters a word as he goes to leave.

It’; his name

The man smiles and says his own, Roman (obvi, who else) before leaving

Vigil disappears for two weeks and ROman feels empty as he sees the vacant booth.

When he arrives again, he looks happier and already has a second drink in front of him and one across the table when Roman wanders over

They start talking and find out they both sing, Roman is actually a fan of some of Virgil’s songs

Virgil tells Patton and Logan about the man at the bar and they encourage him to ask him out.

He’s a little hesitant, feeling like he’s betraying Remy, but one night he has a dream where Remy tells him he wants him to be happy, so the next time he see’s Roman he asks him out.

Roman looks at the man’s hand and says he doesn't want to be a piece on the side, getting rather agitated and storming out

Virgil realises he still has his ring on and runs after him, catching him outside trying to hail a cab

He tries to explain but Roman won’t listen so he asks if he’s heard his song ‘Ghosted’

Roman shakes his head and asks why he’s asking

Virgil just hands him his phone and headphones, telling him just give him a chance and listen to it

Roman sighs but does as asked, crossing his arms angrily as the song starts

Half way through, tears start to fall and Roman gets super sad

When the song finishes, he hands back the phone, fingers trailing over the older man’s ring

“I know what that’s like, so I won’t say ‘I’m sorry’“

“Did you lose someone too?”

Roman reaches for the chain around his neck, a promise ring with an engraving of a bird hanging from it loosely

“My boyfriend, Emile. About five years ago, a drunk driver hit our car. We both survived, but he had a brain bleed that was too slow and small to pick up. He had a fit one day at home and passed away in the ambulance.”

“Guess we’re both broken.”

Roman asks if Virgil wants to stay at his place that night, neither wants to be alone

They become closer, and eventually, Virgil asks if he wants to be his boyfriend

He writes him a song and sings it too him on the roof of the apartment block one night

“I know I’m a mess, Remy was my everything. But I feel the same things I did for him when I look at you. I can’t be Emile, you can’t be Remy, but we can be the missing piece in each other’s hearts. Only if you’ll let me.”

“Of course.”

Patton helps Virgil announce he’s taken and his songs get less depressing again

He still wears his wedding ring and Roman still wears the promise ring

The fans question it but they just shrug it off

When Virgil proposes, he does it on stage in Paris, with the whole crowd holding up pink love heart cards.

They get married in Roman’s backyard, with Logan and Patton and a few close friends and family members

The night after their honeymoon, Virgil goes out and visits Remy’s grave (he’s done this on the anniversary of their marraige, both their birthdays and his death).

He thanks him for everything, and cries a little. He admits he still misses him, even though it’s now been eight years.

He say’s that he and Roman are going to adopt twin boys soon, when the paperwork is aproved, and they’re planning on naming them Remy and Emile.

Before he leaves, he takes off the old wedding band, he’d still worn it when he got married, wanting Remy there to see him happy

He presses a kiss to it before placing it in a ring box and burying it just beneath the dirt to the left of the headstone

Roman and Virgil get the boys and raise them well

Emile is a happy, bouncy boy and Remy is as sassy as his namesake

They’re happy together

The end.

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creative-horror-network · 5 years ago

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The Fog Report - Los Angeles Haunted Hayride 2019

Welcome back, intrepid listeners! The season is drawing to a close but that hasn’t deterred me from hitting a third haunted locale, although in this one the haze you’re walking through is less fog and more kicked-up dust. Probably has something to do with that weird-looking fairground tucked away in the trees there…

Started in 2009, the Los Angeles Haunted Hayride has taken up residence in Griffith Park, in and around the grounds of the Old LA Zoo. Already a fairly eerie place with its trails past abandoned enclosures and cages, the Hayride has consistently utilized the environment to create terrifying tableaus and vignettes, seen and experienced from a tractor-pulled trailer - something done for Halloween in many other parts of the country but a relative oddity in the big city. Though its themes have shifted and changed over the years, this year new owners Thirteenth Floor Entertainment have given the Hayride a unifying story and a setting from which to place their event: a cursed town called Midnight Falls.

Anyone who has read my last two articles about Dark Harbor and Knott’s Scary Farm (or who just knows me in general) should guess why this alone finally pulled me to the event. This was my first ever visit to the Haunted Hayride, so my expectations were not so effected by previous years; it’s all fresh eyes and raw opinion here.

The Event

Before I even get to the venue itself, can I just say how enjoyable just the walk there was? Unless you’re parked in one of the upper lots, you’ve got a little bit of a trek through a nighttime park ahead of you, and I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said this was “tucked away.” in the wilderness. The natural darkness and night noises certainly helped me get into the mood as I trudged up the path and saw the flickering orange glow in the distance.

Once you do get there, you find yourself in the town square of Midnight Falls in the midst of its 13th annual Halloween Festival, 1985. The Hayride itself, as well as three mazes, several concessions and a handful of slight-up charge escape rooms can all be accessed from here, but as a zone in itself the town square is well worth wandering around in. The roaming monsters - townsfolk who have been cursed but seem to be in good spirits - are more interactive and funny than outright scary, engaging visitors with humor and giving Midnight Falls the character of a cheesy 80s horror-comedy. Each character is an archetype of the era and each is a very distinct, from a jock werewolf to a hook-nosed Miss Midnight Falls to a snappy goblin server from the local diner (hi Reggie!), just to name a few of the myriad citizens.

This feels like a genuinely happy medium between the heavy thematic elements of Knott’s and the party atmosphere of Dark Harbor. You’re at an in-universe fair, and they play that up without it detracting from the scarier elements. It certainly evokes the spirit of a local Halloween: I spent a good chunk of my teenage years in the small mountain town of Idyllwild, and they also have (had?) a Halloween carnival, so I can say big props for reminding me of that feeling. Couple that with the amount of atmosphere and the commitment of the actors in their improv with guests and each other, and you have a nicely immersive, if tongue-in-cheek, experience.

It’s also good to know that the event is small, considering what it actually offers. The night I visited I managed to get there right around opening and was able to get through most everything in two hours. That doesn’t mean its not worth visiting, but don’t expect a marathon session like a theme park haunt.

The Hayride

As stated before, the hayride is the namesake and main draw of the event, a chance for Angelenos to board a hay wagon (and sit in real honest-to-goodness hay) and take a ride through the Old Zoo, now the outskirts and foothills of Midnight Falls. This attraction is presented as a sort of weird origin-story, demonstrating how the land fell under the Halloween hex and riders in the midst of it happening.

This is a wholly different kind of trip than one would make on foot through a maze, and is a proper ride in every sense, with each scene being staged in such a way that it only transpires as the hayride passes. The main ingredient is the live actors lurking in the dark that rush at the trailer and menace the riders, usually after a theatrical beat in a scene plays out, I’d never done anything like this before and it was honestly impressive, each scene having its fair share of startling surprises: highlights for me were a ghostly girl leaping from a cliff (possibly reenacting a suicide), a werewolf gang unleashed from some of the old animal cages, a amorous couple in a convertible being mauled by a Sasquatch, a close encounter with a ghost train, and a giant spider emerging from a stone structure.

I wasn’t able to take any picture while on the hayride, mainly out of respect for not ruining the moment and trying to present for it. Trust me when I say that even if the scenes seem a little cheesy, the fact that they’re part of this spooky hayride experience makes it fun. I actually feel like this is a decent entry point for people leery about going to a haunt, as it struck me as being less intense than being in the midst of a maze. Pro tip for first-timers: sit in the middle. The folks on the left and right get all the attention, so the heat’s off if you stick to the center.

The Mazes

As an added bonus, Midnight Falls has three mazes as part of its spooky neighborhood. Each is fairly short but exceptionally well put together for something built in the middle of Griffith Park, and I walked away from each fairly impressed.

The first maze I visited, Midnight Mortuary, takes you through the town’s funeral home, its backyard, morgue and chapel. The monsters here are a mix of the ghoulish staff and some goat-masked figures in white robes; perhaps a cult of some kind? More Victorian Gothic than grisly and gory, creative use of space and good set design are strong in this maze, and the startling finale helps put the random goat-people’s presence into perspective.

My favorite maze was definitely Trick or Treat, simulating a trip through a Midnight Falls neighborhood where every house has a resident surprise. This outdoor maze is unique because anyone visiting can actually ring the doorbells of the houses to see what wacky scare emerges. Since almost all the scares are guest-driven, the reward for courage comes when most of the monsters give you real candy! It’s a cute detail, and it really plays on the horror-camp and the tropes of Halloween: my favorite bit is the Devil-themed “home haunt” at the end that looks like some earnest kid built a strobe-light maze through their yard and garage. Big props for creativity.

Rounding out the three is Roadkill Ranch, ensuring no meat goes to waste in Midnight Falls… because if it’s good enough for your tires, it’s good enough for their fryers. While the effort was there, I’m personally very tired of the bloody Hellbilly theme for mazes as a whole, so this one did not really impress me. It did have some choice scare moments and a good strawbale layout in the back of it, making you weave through while masked ranchers hid in the dark, but I just think the trope has been done to death.

Final Thoughts

Though small in stature, the LA Haunted Hayride is big on personality and dark charm, offering a main attraction that isn’t offered anywhere nearby and a collection of scary sides to go along with it. The overarching setting of Midnight Falls is a huge boon to the event, and I hope it sticks around for the foreseeable future, along with its cast of characters. I’d love to see what they can add to it if it continues to expand.

What gives this an edge for me and makes it stick out, even from its larger competitors, is the festive quality of the Hayride. Halloween is not just the backdrop of the season here for spooky stuff, it’s positively dripping with Halloween flavor. Not many haunts actually make the holiday their front-and-center, and I’m super grateful that this does. It’s hard not to feel spirit (pun intended) of All Hallows Eve here, and I didn’t realize how much I missed that kind of vibe until I was there.

If you’re local and you can make it, the LA Haunted Hayride is worth a visit. Come kill a couple hours here and feel a bit of that Halloween magic, both terror and humor - trick and treats, if you’ll pardon the expression. And hey, if you’re not anywhere near LA, go see if anyone near you is doing a haunted hayride. It might help kindle that jack-o’-lantern flame in your soul too.

Anyway, I’ve got a lot of Midnight Falls dust to brush off my clothes. Until next time, I’ll see you in the fog.

The Los Angeles Haunted Hayride runs most nights in October and every night during the last week until November 2nd, from 7 to 10:30 or 11pm depending on the night. More details and tickets can be found here.

#LA Haunted Hayride

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crowkingwrites · 6 years ago

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Vicious (Ch.2)

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: The story of Lyanna Baratheon, the trueborn daughter of Robert and Cersei, and the Bolton Bastard and what happens when they decide to take the Iron Throne for themselves.

Words: 2400

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948298/chapters/35159126

When Lyanna was smaller, Cersei remembered holding her hand wherever they went in the Red Keep. Lyanna’s dark hair bounced behind her and she led Cersei to wherever she pleased. On this particular day, it was Lyanna’s own bedroom. It was much too large for a child her size, but she was a Princess, not just any high lady. Her bed was neatly made for her and piled with pillows and soft items like a doll that Stannis, her uncle, gifted to her.

Lyanna had her own tea table where Cersei would teach her basic etiquette. The wooden table had matching chairs appropriate for a growing princess. Tywin had gifted Lyanna the tea set on her second name day, hoping he would attend tea with her once she grew old enough. The septa could have easily taken over and teach her these lessons, but Cersei wanted to keep Lyanna to herself. She was a selfish woman, and Lyanna belonged to her no one else.

“And what do you say?” Cersei smiled down at Lyanna. Lyanna sat straight up and smiled.

“Thank you,” Lyanna said politely, trying to impress her mother. Cersei smiled, but touched Lyanna’s hand.

“Thank you, my lady,” Cersei corrected. “Always remember your titles. You are a princess. You need to know everyone and everything.” Her fingers brushed Lyanna’s soft skin. Cersei looked into her green eyes. She may have Robert’s hair and smile, but those eyes were hers. They were windows to her small soul. Cersei didn’t know what to expect from her first child. She was only happy she existed.

A small knock came to the door. A bit annoyed by the disturbance, Cersei stood up with a frown on her face.

“Enter,” she simply said. The door creaked open to reveal an old maester. His chains clinked as he tilted his head inside Lyanna’s bedroom. Cersei watched him exhale before he spoke. As if he was mentally preparing himself to be in the presence with a lioness. Cersei smiled. This was exactly the kind of power she liked the most. Not a single word was uttered, yet fear drove his actions.

“My Queen, I have some happy news to share,” he started, clearing his throat. “After our morning’s visit, I have come to a conclusion. I’m happy to share that you are pregnant again.” The maester smiled at Cersei, beaming in this good news.

Cersei nodded and with a slight smile she spoke a quick ‘thank you’ before turning back to her first child. Lyanna sipped at the war raspberry tea. It was still too tart for the young one, so she squinted her eyes and closed her mouth tightly.

Cersei offered her hand to her which Lyanna took immediately. This time, Cersei led them both to her bed. Cersei placed Lyanna on her lap and played with her hair.

“You’re going to be a big sister,” she spoke softly. “Are you excited?”

“Will he be nice?” Lyanna asked.

“He? How do you know it’s a boy?” Cersei laughed at Lyanna’s prediction. Lyanna’s small hands touched her mother’s belly. A quiet came over both of them. Cersei watched her small fingers feel the fabric and maybe something else underneath. Something that couldn’t be touched by hands.

“I know,” Lyanna said.

Lyanna stood tall and held her mother’s hand. Both wore nothing but black. Lyanna was right. When Joffery came into the world, he was a boy. Neither Cersei nor Lyanna could have guessed what he would become after that. Lyanna didn’t think she would be looking at her younger brother’s crypt so soon. Part of it felt like relief. The pain and suffering he inflicted on others was now no more. He couldn’t break Cersei’s heart anymore.

The other part felt like a growing anger. Not like a flower in a garden where things grew over time. This grew like a rumor or a lie told among the common folk. It spread faster than one could control and it grew into branches where one could not reach. It felt impossible and unexplained. Lyanna knew one thing: Sansa Stark and her uncle, Tyrion were to blame. It was too obvious.

Both needed to die.

Lyanna squeezed her mother’s hand once more before letting go. Her angry thoughts took her away from reality. She stepped one foot away from the crypt.

“Stay here a while longer,” Cersei said aloud. Lyanna stepped back into her same spot.

“I don’t know how you can stand here and do nothing,” Lyanna commented.

“I am doing something. I am always doing something,” Cersei grabbed her daughter’s arm. Both looked over the crypt. Too new to have a statue put in place, but the soil was already settled into the ground.

“Do you mean your eyes are doing something?” Lyanna asked, noting a single soldier who had kept his distance from them.

“Yes, my eyes are always watching, but for now Tyrion rots in a cell. His mind is constantly thinking of ways to get out when I have already killed him in my own mind.”

Lyanna knew her mother was more devastated, angrier, and more vengeful than anyone. Her mother’s anger carried like a heavy weight across the floor. Cersei held tight to Lyanna as they exited the crypt. Their black dresses swayed and brushed the ground beneath their feet. They walked in time and quickly. Neither of them liked to be in the presence of the common folk.

“You leave tomorrow, correct?” Cersei asked. It was an odd subject. Lyanna was the one to tell her mother herself of the arranged marriage. Cersei was angered, just as much as she was angered by Myrcella’s departure. After an hour with Tywin, Cersei left in defeat, cursing under her breath.

Another daughter sold like a common whore.

Tywin was right. As much as Cersei hated it, her father presented a good point. After Joffery’s death, they were losing the battle. They need allies. Lyanna was at her prime. Now is the time.

“I do,” Lyanna answered. “Do you think the North would welcome me?”

“With open arms and hearts,” Cersei spat. “Your namesake comes from the North.” Lyanna stopped in her tracks and faced her mother. Her eyes blinked and her lips parted.

“You’ve never told me that.”

Cersei’s eyes turned cold. Her eyes looked over her eldest’s dark hair and imagined a crown of blue roses atop her head. The, Cersei saw Lyanna’s eyes. The same green eyes she had. The same that greeted her when she opened them for the first time.

“Perhaps, it’s time you know about Lyanna,” Cersei led her daughter towards her own private chambers. The windows were open and let the sun shine into her room. It made her room warmer than most, but Cersei enjoyed the heat. It often agreed with her.

“The Starks ruled the North as you know,” Cersei started. “There was a young lady by the name of Lyanna Stark. She was Lord Eddard’s older sister. And she was set to marry your father, Robert.”

Lyanna sat in her mother’s favorite chair. It smelled of the ashes from her fire. A look of confusion swept across her face. The slow realization set in.

“She died.”

Cersei nodded. “She did. I don’t know how. Lord Eddard didn’t speak of his sister after he discovered her dead. At first, it haunted me. What true terrors did he witness for him to never speak of his dearest sister again? But then it angered me.”

“Angered you?”

“Your father was a dream to marry. I felt so happy until later that night. Drunk, disappointing, and awful, he climbed on top of me and only said her name. Your father never loved me. His heart belonged to a ghost.”

“So why do I bare her name? She’s not a Lannister or a Baratheon. She’s a Stark.”

“Robert pleaded with me for days. He said he wanted to pass on her memory. When I presented you to him, the first act he wanted was to place a crown of blue roses on your head. He loved you more than he had ever loved anyone else. At the time, I wanted to make him happy. So, Lyanna it was.”

Lyanna remembered her father. He held her hand and placed her on his lap during the cold nights. He would carry her out onto the balcony to wave to the common folk. She also remembered the first time she smelled too much ale from her father’s mouth and how sometimes he would go to bed with multiple women—none were ever her own mother.

“I am named after the woman my father loved.” The words were colder than Lyanna was comfortable with. She often tried to believe that her mother and father loved each other. She wanted to say that the love between her mother and father died, but now she can’t even claim there was ever a love to begin with.

“Do not doubt my love for you,” Cersei’s hand smoothed out hairs on top of her head. “I used to hate her. The woman he would call out in bed. The woman he yearned for. She is ashes. So is your father. You are flesh and blood. You are here. You are neither of them, and you are mine.”

“Even when I am to be a Northman’s wife?” Lyanna let a smirk go on her lips.

“Until the day I am ashes,” Cersei smirked back. “You are my child.”

A silence fell between both of them. The wind blew into Cersei’s chambers. It moved small leaves across the floor. Hair blew in front of Lyanna’s face. Cersei pushed it away and tucked it behind her ear. Cersei’s sad smile was almost seen by no one but her own children. She swallowed.

“I will miss you,” Cersei finally said. “Just as I miss Myrcella.” Lyanna’s bottom lip trembled. She stood up and wrapped her arms around her mother. Cersei’s arms held Lyanna together.

“I will miss you too,” Lyanna said in between heavy sobs. “What if I hate there?”

“You won’t.”

“What if you’re wrong and I do hate it there?” Lyanna asked. Cersei held onto her tighter.

“Then I will bring you back here. No matter the cost to me.”

Dawn was a beautiful time of day in King’s Landing. The sun’s rays touched the faces of the early risers: the bakers, the knights, and the mothers. It touched Lyanna’s face and gently warmed her cheek. She watched others pack her things into a carriage that held food, water, and ale.

The large horses exhaled. Lyanna could see the air expel from their nose. This particular morning was colder than usual. Cersei’s hand slid across her daughter’s shoulder blades. “I’ve brought you something,” she said to her quietly. “A wedding gift of sorts.”

“Mother, you’ve already presented me with numerous gifts.” Lyanna turned to see Cersei holding a red and gold dagger. The sheath was dominantly red, but the tips were gold. The blade was sharp and new.

“I never had anyone warn me. My mother died when I was young. Still, no one told me,” Cersei quietly explained. “The day he tries to harm you, use this. And use it with no remorse.” Lyanna took the dagger slowly and hid it among her red skirts.

“Who exactly am I marrying?” Lyann asked earnestly. Cersei swallowed and squeezed her daughter’s hand.

“Your sister was lucky. Trystane is a gentleman,” her eyes could not meet Lyanna’s.

“What does that mean?” Lyanna asked. She felt her heart drop. Cersei eyed someone approaching them. Lyanna turned to see a man dressed in red and gold like most of the Lannister vassals. His beard was salt and pepper, but it constantly smelled of cinnamon. He stood before the two women and waited for some response.

“Good morning, Aeron Payne,” Cersei spat. “What do you want?”

“Your daughter,” he smiled. “It is time to depart, my lady.” Lyanna shot a look back to her mother. Cersei squeezed her hand once more. Her mouth right next to her ear.

“Look at your husband’s sigil. Then you will know. You will understand what kind of man he is.” Cersei kissed the top of her daughter’s head and left with guards. Lyanna was left in a whirlwind. What kind of man was she to marry? What was his sigil? And why for fuck’s sake could she not remember who ruled the North?

It bothered her like bumps in the road. Every time she would feel a bump, the carriage would shift or bounce. The carriage shifted once more, and Lyanna’s side veered right. King’s Landing had shifty roads, but once the caravan was on the king’s road, everything should be fine. At least, that’s what Lyanna told herself.

From the carriage window, she watched Ser Aeron Payne ride his horse. Her mother never respected him, so neither did she. That was one of many things that passed down from Cersei to Lyanna. They disliked the same people. Ser Illyn Payne had been a pain in her ass, and so was his brother, Aeron.

Tywin appointed him to escort her to Winterfell anyways. He had been a knight for years, but his brother, the former King’s justice, always outshined him. Lyanna rolled her eyes and thought nothing else of the try-hard brother.

On the other side of the carriage rode Markus Lannister. One of many cousins in King’s Landing. His blonde curls and blue eyes usually gave it away. If it wasn’t for his physical looks, it was his attitude. Lyanna always told her ladies-in-waiting that the Lannister knights and squires were arrogant, but that Markus was the worst of them all. He always did his job well. Markus become Lyanna’s personal guard when she was only ten, and Cersei deemed it okay for her to roam around as she pleased, as long as her older cousin was there beside her.

Then a saying started to float around the castle.

‘Wherever the doe goes, so does the lion.’

Markus was more than a personal guard and a cousin. When times of trouble or confusion came, Markus often guided her. Much like how Ser Gregor guided and reassured Cersei. His presence always helped.

Lyanna sat back in the carriage seat and relaxed. The North was a long way from home. This was going to be a long ride.

Taglist: @angelicshinigami @sugarwastaken @carilov09@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @i-theredqueen @sleepylunarwolf@trashpandabarnes @loki-0fasgard @boltonblade @sophiaescape

#ramsay bolton #ramsay snow #ramsay imagine #ramsay x reader #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton x oc #vicious #game of thrones #got #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones imagine

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key-to-levis-heart · 7 years ago

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Of Witchcraft and Psychedelia, part 1

Eren's crazy old hippie neighbor asks him to watch her cat for the weekend.

Only her cat isn't actually a cat.

(read on ao3)

October 18, 1967

There was an odd energy in the air that night; a tense vibrating through the rustling leaves under the full moon. Softly, the breeze whispered with the voices of restless spirits, and werewolves howled through the fog.

A perfect night for spellcasting.

October 18, 2017

“Oh thank you so much for taking Levi for the weekend!” Hanji shouts as she flitters around her apartment, unaware of her volume. Eren watches her as she hums along to the vinyl playing aloud, noisily searching through cabinets in her effort to pack for her trip.

She’s an odd old woman, though Eren is quite used to it by now, having been her neighbor for a few years. Excitedly, she pilfers through her messy living room on frail legs, her wild gray hair falling out of its lazy bun. Her vibrant tie-dyed skirt and blouse billow around her, showing off the faded tattoos painting her arms and neck. She looks like a goddamn hippie stereotype; if they were in the suburbs he figures she’d probably be growing weed in a backyard garden.

Or maybe she cooks up LSD in her study. He wouldn’t put it past her.

“I’m meeting up with Erwin!” she exclaims for the third time this afternoon, trying to shove large jars with mystery contents into a duffel bag. Eren has no idea who Erwin is, but he smiles anyways.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that,” he says gently, absently stroking Levi’s fur where the black cat is curled in his lap. The couch beneath him is old and sagging, and he worries that the cushions might eat him.

“Me and Erwin practiced magic together!” she continues, as if she didn’t hear Eren. She’s mentioned this quite often as well, and he takes it as a sign that her mind is dwindling; obviously all those drugs she did back in the day were not good for her in the long run.

Levi blinks lazily as he watches Hanji, tail flicking back and forth in displeasure at all the noise. Meanwhile Eren mainly ignores her, observing the photographs on the coffee table beside him. They show her and her friend, also named Levi (whom Eren presumes is the cat’s namesake), she once explained.

“Oh I’m going to miss you, my little munchkin,” she coos, coming over and picking Levi up, kissing his head while Levi squirms in her arms, eyes wide and panicked and making screeched meows until she puts him down. Eren swears he must be imagining the glare Levi gives him for laughing.

Hanji cackles like a madwoman as she finally bids them goodbye for the weekend.

An odd old woman, indeed.

The bright, sunny day soon turns into a bleak and rainy night, simultaneously ominous and soothing as the rain pelts down rhythmically on the windowpanes.

Eren sighs contentedly, leaning against his kitchen counter with his eyes closed, enjoying the sound of rain. He has a gut feeling that something is off, but pushes that thought aside while he waits for the water to boil for tea.

Once his tea is made he gingerly carries it back to the living room, ready to quietly enjoy watching Jeopardy with Levi in his lap, but he stops abruptly in the doorway, the glass shattering against the wood floor.

The following moments he experiences in slow motion, his brain struggling to comprehend the sight before him; he can feel the hot tea tickling his bare feet as he watches the very naked man on his couch slowly blink his eyes open. The man tilts his head, looking confused, before glancing down at himself and promptly screaming.

Eren watches as the stranger frantically looks himself over, chanting swears as he tumbles off the couch, and Eren can do nothing but remain frozen in shock.

“Holy shit!” Eren shouts when he gains back mobility, and suddenly the man takes notice of him again. He flees to the front door and fumbles for his baseball bat and he can hear the man try to get up and fall in trying to pursue him.

“Eren wait!” he hears in a rough voice, and he freezes. “Please don’t call the police.”

Cautiously, Eren pads back into the living room with the bat in hand, seeing the man pitifully trying to stand and flopping back onto the floor with a curse.

Suddenly something clicks as he watches the man struggle.

He’s seen this man before.

With an audible gasp he tightens his grip on the baseball bat. The friend in the photograph, he realizes. The undercut, all the tattoos; this is Levi. For a moment he considers there could just be an uncanny resemblance, an odd coincidence, but that Jimi Hendrix tattoo is unmistakable. He looks exactly the same, same age and everything.

“What the hell is going on?” Eren demands, stepping closer and raising his bat, ready to strike if he doesn’t get answers. “Who are you and why do you look like Hanji’s dead friend?!” His eyes scan the room and he panics when he realizes he has no idea where the cat went.

The man looks up at him warily, sprawled pathetically on the floor. “Can you please call Hanji?”

Eren narrows his eyes, keeping the bat steady. “You-you’re the stranger that broke into my house naked, you can’t make demands!”

He takes a deep breath, lowering the bat and trying to calm his racing heart. “Are you his ghost?” he asks weakly, gently prodding the man’s arm with his foot. Feels pretty damn solid. “The friend in all the photographs, Levi...have you come back to haunt this building?”

“Do I look like a damn ghost?!” not-Levi snaps at him from where he lay gracelessly on the floor. “Just get out your fucking phone and call Hanji for me!” Sitting up with a sigh he gently asks, “please? I’ll explain everything.”

Eren stares at him blankly, limply holding the bat at his side. As the panic fades it hits him just how odd this situation is; Hanji’s fucking hot dead friend from the sixties is completely naked on the floor, and looking very much alive, which by all means should be absolutely impossible. And even if Hanji is really a witch like she’s been saying all this time, then how was she able to bring him back when she’s not even here?

Oh fuck, he thinks, what if Hanji’s really a witch and she’s not totally crazy?

Lost in his thoughts he doesn’t hear Not-Levi mutter a few words in a foreign tongue, and suddenly everything goes black.

Blinking his eyes open from sleep, Eren finds himself laying haphazardly on his couch with a splitting headache. He must have passed out, he realizes, and hit his head really fucking hard because he’s still seeing delusions of the strange man pacing around his living room, in all his nude glory.

“Hanji, you stupid bitch!” the man shouts into Eren’s cell phone, and faintly he can hear Hanji’s shrill voice coming through the receiver. “Yes, I do mean that! You’re a stupid, fucking idiot bitch!...Yeah, of course I’m pissed, I’ve got a right to be!...I don’t care if it happened in 1967, I was stuck living as your damn housecat for fifty years. Fifty fucking years, Hanji! Spellcasting while doing acid was your fucking idea you moron!”

Eren sits up carefully, watching the man continue to irritatedly pace the living room, not noticing that Eren is awake. His steps are careful and deliberate, as if unused to walking.

“Yeah, okay, so maybe being a cat wasn’t all that bad I guess. But you sold my vinyls! How could you?! It was my stuff, you had no right to get rid of it, those were important to me!...No, you have garbage taste you heathen, the ones you kept are garbage, so yes, this is a priority of mine. And don’t even get me started on my Stratocaster, you know that guitar was my baby!”

Erem can’t make out Hanji’s response, but the man groans dramatically. “No, don’t change the subject, I’ve got fifty years of complaining to make up for. Leave Eren out of th-”

The man suddenly cuts himself off as he glances Eren’s way and finds him awake. “I’ll talk to you when you get back,” he says into Eren’s phone, before hanging up abruptly.

He tosses Eren’s phone back to him as he sits beside him on the couch, a little too close for comfort. A tense and uncomfortable minute passes in silence as he leans into Eren’s personal space, letting their knees brush while he stares intensely.

Eren shifts in discomfort, avoiding eye contact. “I’m dreaming,” he blurts out, mainly to convince himself. “This is all a wild, crazy dream, because there’s no way you can be here.”

“And yet here I am anyways,” is the drawled response he receives, and Eren wishes he would just pass out again. “You have questions.”

Eren nods weakly.

It’s going to be a long night.

#key speaks #key's fic #ereri #riren

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gingervsblondie · 5 years ago

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Blondie Has Servant Trouble (1940)

11:51 PM, Saturday, 19 October 2019

What a title, eh? The biggest first world problem of the 20th century. Needless to say, there are bigger problems in the world in 1940 than Blondie’s servant trouble, but here we are. I’m not in the best mood so why not take it out on this totally well-meaning but inconsequential piece of light entertainment from 80 years ago?

11:55

Hey so: the mailman Dagwood runs into in the intro isn’t the mailman he runs into in the movies proper. I don’t know if it ever was. Maybe in the first movie, I honestly don’t remember, but I don’t know who that guy in the intro is. He’s not the mailman I know and love from these great great flicks.

11:58

Hey, noir detective newspaper guy is back! I guess whatever drama I decided was going on behind the scenes last time is resolved now.

We may never know how much blood he has on his hands, how far he went, interrogating petty criminals in alleys, following the trail that ended at the dog-catchers, God rest their souls.

12:01 AM

So… I think a lot of what I’ve seen so far is stock footage, which isn’t something they’ve done to any noticeable degree in the previous movies. Maybe it isn’t though? I don’t know! I don’t trust myself. Maybe these movies are just so repetitive that I can’t believe that they filmed this stuff a second time anymore.

(Future Euan note: I’m pretty sure it wasn’t stock footage.)

12:03

So far, this entry seems to be about superstitions. You know, black cats, walking under ladders.

I’m kinda checked out. Which I can only apologize for. If you’re reading this I want to give you my all, but I mean YOU KNOW WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN. YOU’VE SEEN OLD CARTOONS. Man I miss Dagwood and Blondie just chilling on the train.

12:07

Blondie: “Poor Daisy. Maybe she’s tired of doing the same thing over and over. I know I am.”

Holy shit, the movie heard me. I’m scared now. I’m feeling very vulnerable and I’m not ready for Blondie Has Servant Trouble to Sonic.exe me.

12:09

Dagwood just electrocuted himself atop a ladder at the top of a flight of stairs, which he then fell down. And all I can think is “man I wish Dagwood could die.”

12:15

Alexander Hamilton Bumstead has a kite.

Kinda like how Charlie Brown flies a kite.

...

You know, What Have We Learned, Charlie Brown has a really interesting sequence of World War II footage that’s hand-tinted in bright stylized colours. I could be watching that right now.

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3x6rhf