#i tried to be as accurate to the ghosts' book descriptions as i could while balancing it with these fellers and i think it looks alright

[buttercup-barf]

Twinsomnia as the Christmas ghosts

Kid ghost of Christmas past

Girl ghost of Christmas present

Boy ghost of Christmas yet to come

I need to get some scatter brushes on my puter... I can't even do all my snowy sparkly nonsense that I love so much! Nevertheless, here they are.

[crescentblossom66]

Bond of the Beasts Chapter 13

“Snatcher, are you awake?” Hattie slowly entered the attic in the early evening. As per the usual, the place was dusty and nearly pitch black, the tiny window in the room that had the shutters nearly closed completely was the only thing that gave off any light. She nearly tripped over a stack of books that was on the ground, the picture on it showed a black and white photo of a vampire, due to the darkness, Hattie was unable to read the title of the book, the strange calligraphy that it had didn't help that issue at all either.

The vampire gave an annoyed growl as he pulled the blanket off himself and glared at the young sorceress that held a book in her hand, he could already tell where this was going. The kid might be more than a little annoying, but he had to admit that she was tenacious and studious. “I am now. Let me guess, you need my help because you're stuck again?”

Hattie faltered a bit under the strict look that Snatcher was giving her, but was determined to get to the bottom of that too briefly and not conclusively described shield spell. “It's not a complicated word this time, I have trouble finding out what exactly I'm supposed to do. I thought about trying my hand at something a bit more advanced and I think that the shield spell in this book would be very useful.-” She opened the book on the page that the perplexing spell was on and more or less shoved it into his face. “It says here 'Think of something protective', that's rather vague.” The opened page showed the words that Hattie had accurately reproduced and an illustration of a young wizard thinking of a metal shield. In the dim lighting, Snatcher had some trouble seeing the the page at first, he rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of it before he looked again. His rather annoyed frown turned into a wide smirk.

The purple-haired man rose an eyebrow at the oddly misleading description. “They really dropped the ball on the illustration for this spell, kiddo, I can understand why you're confused.”

“I was thinking of a huge and super sturdy shield, but that did nothing. I was trying to think of a heavy suit of armor after that, but I got no results, nothing appeared.” Hat Kid looked a bit dejected and looked away in shame while crossing her arms, almost pouting a bit.

The vampire let out a, to her, condescending sounding laughter. “Oh no, kid, you're supposed to think of something that YOU find comfort in something that protects you mentally not physically if that makes sense.” He shook his head at the book again. “This young wizard disturbs me, there's nothing protective about envisioning a dumb shield. You'd think he'd think of a toy, or maybe his parents.”

“So...I'm supposed to think of something that gives me comfort and then I'm supposed to try and make that feeling manifest?” She tilted her head at him as if that sounded way too simple to work.

“Yep. If that's all you want to bother me with today, could you scram? I got things to do. Adult things like work and stuff.”

Hattie nodded. “Thanks for the help, Snatcher.” The vampire waved her off dismissively and Hattie went back down to practice in the front yard again. Cookie had forbidden her to practice in the house due to her breaking several fragile vases, cups and plates while she tried to get a better grasp on her float spell that she thought she had mastered, but the results confirmed the opposite. Thinking that using the last bit of daylight to practice might at least get her closer to achieving her goal of being able to get a grasp on that shield spell, she headed outside and was nearly shoved right back inside by Muriel as she shoved past her. “Hey! Be more careful, I almost fell.” Hattie's complaint fell on deaf ears as the werewolf headed straight to the living room.

The young sorceress only shook her head and watched Bow enter. “Woah, what happened to you? You look like you've seen a ghost, Bow.” The changeling only nodded, the potion was beginning to wear off, so her skin had changed color to a deep purple.

“We got chased by a...a boar. It was super scary.” Bow was shivering head to toe, Mu on the other hand appeared to somehow not be fazed at all. When Hattie tried to console her by hugging her, Bow sighed. “It's okay, I'll just need to calmed down again.” Bow appeared a bit sad again, a trend that had persisted the past few days and worried Hattie a lot at this point. She had brushed it off as Bow just being a bit anxious at first, but the problem seemed to be rooted deeper.

“You know that you can talk to me, right? I just want to help, Bow.” Once again, Bow forced a smile and Hattie sighed in defeat. In all honesty, she had no idea how to cheer Bow up at right now. She had to really think of something. The blue-eyed girl watched her sister walk down the hallway to the living room where Mu was watching TV already. From the sounds of it, it sounded like the two were watching a shonen anime. Hattie knew what bothered Bow, however, she had no idea how to make it better, if she were to try to help Bow with her homework or at school, her sister would only feel belittled and it might make her feel even more inferior. With a sigh she turned to the front door again and almost got pushed back in a second time she intended to go outside, this time the offender was the Conductor. Unlike Mu, he stopped for a moment to apologize for nearly slamming the door into her face which she appreciated.

The wereowl returned the muttered 'Hello' that Hattie breathed out as she moved past him into the front yard. He could have sworn that the girl looked a bit troubled, right now though, he really didn't feel like addressing the issue. He felt tired and exhausted, more so than usual, as he had to start even earlier today and his shift ended an hour later as well. Bow flinched when she saw him enter the living room and avoided looking at him as he motioned for Mu, who had sprawled out in the armchair, to move to a different spot. “Nope, I got here first, sit on the couch.” Bow, who was on the couch, jolted noticeably, not wanting the angry blonde man to sit near her. He was scary, the way his face contorted into a scowl and the manner in which his eyes narrowed and pierced right through whomever he looked at, made her skin crawl and gave her chills. Some of those frightening displays of anger were on his face when Bow looked at the interaction between the two werebeasts.

“I ain't in the mood ta argue, lassie, move over.” The moment Mu shook her head again, showing her defiance, the man simply picked her up by her shirt and dumped her onto the couch unceremoniously.

Obviously, the young werewolf protested. “Hey, you can't just pick me up and dump me on the couch like a piece of furniture!” She crossed her arms.

The Conductor sat down with a grunt followed by a deep breath as his muscles finally had a chance to relax. “I just showed ye that I can, didn't I?”

Mu growled. “Stupid jerk. I deserved that seat after I got rid of that boar today.” The wereowl gave a rather pointed glare at the light insult which at first didn't seem to have an effect, but Mu's ears started to flatten and were soon tightly pressed down on her head after realizing that she may have went to far. “...sorry.” She whispered in a remorse tone that was a lot meeker than her rather loud and boisterous voice.

“A boar, eh? How'd ye encounter one o' these in the first place? They're easy to avoid thanks ta their stench and ye should smell them ten times better, lassie.” After saying his piece, the short man reached into his suit pocket to grab a lighter and a partly smoked cigar.

“Well, Bow and I were collecting mushrooms in the woods because I was bored and needed to get out and breathe some fresh air. I did smell that boar, you know, but it kept getting closer until it saw us. When we tried to make an exit, Bow tripped and it charged at us.-” Her confidence seemed to be back as she started to smile and reenact the fight she had with that boar dramatically. She jumped up from the couch and punched and kicked the air. “-So there I was staring down that wild beast as it charged at us, ready to hurt Bow. I growled and howled to get it to back off, but the boar continued its rampage, so I bravely jumped to the side to get its attention.-” Mu jumped to the side to show off her dodge. Bow had trouble smiling, even if she found Mu's silly antics amusing. The fact remained that it was her fault that the boar attacked in the first place. The dramatic retelling at least seemed to cheer the other person that was in the room with them up, the Conductor's menacing scowl had turned into the subtlest hint of a smile.

“.I used my supreme, ultra dodging skills to jump out of the way just in time to avoid the deadly tusks, I could feel the wind brush past me as the violent beast slammed into the tree behind me.-” Mu pretended to run against the wall and fall down to the ground, twitching her arms and legs, playing out the boar's disorientation. This time even Bow had to smile a little, the silly actions wiping away her sorrow temporarily.

“-After that, I gave that evil boar a fierce bite to the neck and it turned tail and ran off, like a scared chicken and I emerged victorious!” Mu rose both her arms up high in the air like a boxer who'd won a long and fierce fight and was celebrating after knocking out their opponent.

The Conductor chuckled a little. “That's quite the tale, lassie. Ye really showed that walkin' piece o' meat who's boss, eh? Good job.” Mu beamed at the praise while Bow showed a look of pure confusion at the shift in attitude that the man she had thought to be mean and angry displayed. She had expected him to laugh, not to compliment Mu. The question that he asked next really took her off guard and put her perception of the old wereowl into question even more. “Muriel here wasn't spoutin' nonsense, was she, Bow lassie?” Bow briefly looked up at the blonde man he was taking a drag of his cigar while she focused on him, he wasn't scowling and didn't look angry. It wasn't his question that made her rethink her opinion of the man, it was the look of worry in his eyes as his gaze fell on her. He seemed to try to hide it, but she could see it clearly.

Bow fidgeted a little, but gave a response. “She was telling the truth.”

“See, gramps, I wasn't lying, I AM that awesome!” Mu proclaimed, proudly as she marched back to the seat on the couch. The blonde man only chuckled and shook his head, finding her actions endearing, his mind briefly wandered to a thought that he shoved away as quickly as it came; Would his grandkids have acted the same? “Uhh...didn't Cookie tell you not to smoke inside the house?” He was almost thankful for the question of the energetic golden-eyed girl, it stopped his thoughts from going places that he didn't want them to go to.

“Aye, she did, but she isnae here, is she?” Mu just shrugged while Bow didn't want to say anything about it in fear of making the old man angry. The three watched TV more or less in silence for a while. Hattie returned back inside after it turned to dark out to see, she looked tired, but had a small smile on her face.

Bow was the only one who seemed to take note of that though. Muriel had fallen asleep the fight from earlier had made her more tired when she would have admitted, so all it took was the white noise from the TV to lull her to sleep. The Conductor seemed almost equally as tired, his purple eyes were starting to close as he tried to follow the news report that was currently on the channel. The clock that the news program had at the bottom of the screen showed 21:32, 09:32pm. Bow decided to turn in for the night, her mattress was still in Hattie's room, however, the actual owner of the room was already asleep much to Bow's relief, she really wasn't in the mood to talk to her sister.

The following hours, the changeling was being kept awake by her own thoughts, and strange anxiety that she had normally only felt when she feared that the scientists would run a test on her again. The tired girl was well aware that right now she was safe, the looming danger of being discovered aside, but she could sense that the other residents of the house also struggled with that general fear. She didn't feel unwelcome either, no one had been bad to her. She really liked Cookie and the DJ, both were super nice to her and Hattie.

She jolted slightly after she heard the door next to their room open rather forcefully, a barely audible “What a troublemaker this lassie, makin' me carry her to bed.” It made Bow smile slightly. She really must have misunderstood the grumpy old man. Maybe she could try to talk to him next time when he wasn't in a sour mood. The clock in the kitchen showed 3am as the young changeling silently went down the creaky staircase. Nobody seemed to be awake, all the lights were off, all she could hear were normal house noises. She opened the fridge, staring at its contents for a brief moment, blinded by the light after walking through the dark and slightly creepy hallway, something about the fact that the hallway upstairs only had a tiny window near the stairs and nowhere else made walking down it really unnerving. She always had the feeling that something could sneak up on her and drag her into the darkness, or maybe that she'd hear a disembodied voice call her name in a quiet and eerie whisper, it gave her the chills.

She realized that her skin had turned purple again, even her small horns and tail had popped back up. Bow took a few deep breaths to regain her composure after freaking herself out. Bow got herself a bottle of juice and took a seat in the kitchen. Bow wondered where all that anxiety was coming from, it somehow got worse every day. It wasn't the fear of pain or potential death this time, of that she was certain, but what was it then?

A clicking and small creaking just out in the hallway brought Bow Kid right back out of pensive behavior, she got startled so bad that she gasped and immediately brought her hands in front of her mouth to stifle the noise. Was it a burglar? Did someone break their door? She started to shiver and her heart skipped a beat as soon as a shadow went toward the kitchen. Her fear was soon replaced by relief upon realizing who it was, a low pitched humming gave the intruder away.

DJ Grooves entered the house earlier than usual due to him dealing with paper work instead of interacting with the patrons this night. Seeing a person in the kitchen out of his peripheral nearly gave him a heart attack. When he turned his head to see who it was, he was surprised to see that it was Bow. “Bowie, what are you doing there, darling? You should be sleeping.” His tone was soft and didn't sound as if he was scolding her for being awake. Upon getting closer, the basilisk realized that the young girl seemed a little down. He noticed that Bow Kid was rather shy in the little time he managed to interact with the kids, but she had been fairly open to him. “Is something bothering you?” Bow flinched ever so slightly and shook her head.

“No, I just couldn't sleep and my throat felt dry, so I went to get a something to drink.” She forced a smile like she had done many times before, but just like Hattie, he saw right through it.

“I can see that you're worried about something, darling, I can see it.” It was written on her face plain as day. Her shoulders were slouched and she was trying to smile to trick him into believing that everything was okay. “Maybe I can help you, Bowie, that dour appearance doesn't suit a young girl like you.” He gave her smile and sat close to her, hoping that the young girl would open up and not reject his attempt to help her.

At first it looked like the changeling didn't want to speak up, and the two sat in a rather uncomfortable silence until Bow took a deep breath. “Am I...a burden?” Bow's defeated tone and lowered head nearly broke the heart of the DJ, he nearly recoiled at the horrible inquiry.

“Of course not, Bowie, how did you come to that conclusion?-” His tone got a bit sharper and anger snuck into his voice. “-Did the Conductor tell you that?!”

He calmed down slightly when Bow shook her head and answered him. “No, I...I just feel like I'm not contributing much.-” She turned to face him, her eyes glistened with tears, “-Hattie has her magic and is training hard to get better at it, and Mu is very strong...I can't do nothing helpful.”

The basilisk couldn't help but carefully and gently pull Bow Kid into a hug. “Oh Bowie...you're part of this family, Bow, this isn't about being useful, we won't abandon you just because you can't help us against the hunters. It's not your job or Hattie's or Muriel's to fight them anyway.” Bow started to cry softly, and he tried to soothe her by stroking over her curly hair.

“But...but I can't do anything right! I'm a danger by not being able to control my color shifting and my horns and tail poke out too!-” She was starting to nearly hyperventilate. “I can't even read right! I'm useless!” Her small body was starting to tremble, her tears dripping onto his red jacket.

It was painful to see this poor girl so wrecked by an inferiority complex. After everything she had gone through already, after everything bad people had put her through, she now was tormented by her own mind. DJ Grooves could feel his own tears fall, due to being a basilisk, they fell as tiny pebbles. “Please...please don't say that ever again, darling,” He put a hand under her chin and pushed it up so that she'd look at him. “Listen closely, Bowie. You're far from useless. You may not notice it, but you're incredibly strong, you've been tormented by evil abominations your whole life up until now, yet you escaped, and more importantly, you haven't lost your kindness. You kept on caring about your sister, tried to defend her from us to protect her when we first met you, and now you're even trying to help us. You don't have to try so hard to be useful. Just do your best and we'll be proud of you, I know I already am.” He gave a bright and cheerful smile and was happy when Bow gave a small hint of a smile back.

Her voice was still shaking and she was sobbing, “Really? You are?” He nodded and pulled her a bit closer.

“Of course I meant it, darling. I'll try to help you if you need help in school, I did promise Cookie that I'd help after all.”

Bow suppressed a sob. “Thank you, Grooves.”

[koqabear]

hit me with your killshot, baby (C.YJ)

Summary:

It was a small, quiet town you had decided to move into. One that you could help with any healing or magical needs. What you didn’t expect, however, was to face a demon too powerful for your own good. The worst part? Seems like he’s gotten attached.

Yeonjun x reader/ demon!yeonjun x witch!reader

Genre: fantasy, enemies to ?? thriller(?), angst if you squint me thinks

Word count: 3.0K

Warnings: general physical fighting/violence, mentions of scars, burns, bones breaking, knives, blood, fire, descriptions of pain (let me know if I should add anything!)

a/n: This might get another part if it gets a good response <3 Writing fantasy is rlly fun for me as well, I’m so glad that this is the story that got me out of my writers block lmao

comments and reblogs are always welcome and much appreciated, hope you guys enjoy! <3

Disclaimer!! Absolutely nothing about this story is accurate or real, anything and everything that mc the witch does is made up!

It was about three in the morning when you got the call.

“Hello?” You said, eyes squinted as you had just been woken up from your sleep. The line remained silent for a moment, leaving you to wonder if this was a scam caller. You spoke again, only to hear hasty footsteps becoming louder, presumably running towards the phone.

“Hello?!” The voice called out, the loud exclamation causing you to jolt awake. “Oh my god, oh my god!” Their exasperated voice rang through your line, and you stood to get properly dressed, already anticipating their request.

“Where do you live?” You asked sharply, grabbing the keys to your car and waiting for their answer. They stuttered out their address, the sounds of the rain coming into your ear. They were now outside.

“Please come quick, this spirit has been bothering me for weeks now, I could have sworn they were harmless-“ they cried into the phone, only to get cut off by your stern command.

“Leave your home. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

They agreed, their voice quiet and shaky, and you hung up, beginning to drive to your new task.

It was no secret your town had a problem with the supernatural. That was the whole reason you lived here.

‘The town witch’ was what they called you. You remember moving to this small town the moment you turned eighteen, the rumors of the paranormal town beckoning you to help. With potions and incantations by your side, you were the best damn thing this place had ever gotten. But that was six years ago, and you were young and naive. The scars and burns that riddled your body only served to prove your progress, marking your place in this town permanently.

You sighed, your grip on your steering wheel weak. You were, after all, the only help these people had. Late night calls like this were beginning to become much too common recently, leading you to wonder if something, or someone, new was beginning to pester this poor town.

You arrived at the house, the thunderstorm only helping to provide a stereotypical atmosphere for you to work in. You got out your car, pulling your coat tightly against your body, the wind around you strong enough to hinder your footsteps.

The two story home before you rattled in protest, the front door swinging open the moment you got close enough. You felt your heart begin to race, beginning to question if this was truly worth it. It seems that whatever had been pestering the homeowner was no small ghost. Walking inside, you were met with the dark and empty home, the hardwood floor beneath you creaking in protest as you carefully walked around, the house seemingly calming the moment you entered.

You breathed in slowly, attempting to steady your mind as you surveyed the house, recalling what the homeowner told you before hanging up. This had been going on for a while, but it seems that it only recently became too much for them. Whatever was in this home really liked the attention.

Before you were able to take another step forward, you were thrown off your feet, slamming into the wall to your left, the many picture frames and decorations falling before you with a loud crash. The door slammed shut, and you covered your head, bracing yourself as you felt the glass shards begin to be directed towards you.

It’s here, and it’s angry.

Just as the chaos around you finally dulled down, you were met with the sight of the trophy shelf in front of you beginning to shake, your eyes widening as you began to run. You muttered a quick incantation to help shield you, the dull sounds of impact that began to pound against your shield only serving to make you run faster.

The hallway in front of you suddenly seemed never-ending, it’s violet wallpaper becoming harder to see the more you ran. Was the house layout always like this? The hallway suddenly ended, leading you to an open room, quickly recognizing it as the living room. The lights suddenly flickered on, disturbing your concentration as you noticed a shadow walk past one of the doorways.

Seemingly knowing you perfectly, the spirit took this small wavering to throw a book in your direction, narrowly missing your face as you ducked to the side, only to get knocked to your knees as you felt a kick to your back, your disturbed concentration causing your spell to be broken.

You turned around in a haste, summoning your shield once more as you unsheathed the knife you had in your coat pockets.

“Show yourself!” You barked out, standing up as you surveyed the room. “I know you’re here.”

Silence.

The howling wind outside stopped, the flickering lights suddenly still at the sound of your voice. You gripped the handle of the knife harder, trying to not let the exhaustion seep into you. The lights began to slowly dim, a lit ember flickering in front of you, only to be followed by many more, swirling into a raging fire directly in front of you. You jumped back at the heat, the familiar sight making you frown in anticipation.

“You look tired,” the voice said, as smooth and elegant as you first remembered it, “Maybe I could fix that.”

Standing in front of you was no other than Yeonjun. Clad in black, his dark eyes stared into yours as he towered over you, his platform boots shining underneath the dull lights, his hair slicked back and pushed away from his face save for a few strands that hung to frame his face.

“Yeonjun.” You said, a feeling of anger stirring inside you the longer you stared at him

“It’s so nice to hear my name come from you again,” he sighed, taking a step toward you, only for you to step back in retaliation.

Yeonjun was none other than the first demon you tried to expel when you first came here. You had fought with every single potion and spell you spent years perfecting, only to leave hospitalized and unsure that he would return. However, as the years passed and no sign of him appeared, you had assumed that you had succeeded in your battle against him, any signs of hauntings or poltergeists disappearing after that day.

“You,” you snapped, everything finally piecing everything together. “You’re behind everything that’s been happening recently, aren’t you?” You took another step back as he began to laugh, throwing his head back as if you had just told him the funniest thing in the world. Slowly, he calmed himself down, his eyes playful as he took his sweet time responding to you.

“Maybe, why?” He said, beginning to walk towards you slowly. You held your ground, concentrating on keeping your shield steady, they grip on your knife tightening. He stopped centimeters away from it, the aura of the shield humming as his clothes grazed the perimeter, shocks emitting on impact.

“I missed you, you know,” He muttered, head leaning towards you teasingly as he stood just far enough to not be blasted away from your shield. “It wasn’t fun hopping from town to town, trying to mess with other witches that resided there. They were just too…”

“Weak.”

You were barely given a moment before the sight of Yeonjun’s bright eyes filled your vision, the feeling of a scorching heat overtaking your senses.

Yeonjun had trapped you in a ring of fire.

A pretty small one, too.

Slightly panicked, you looked around for any place you could escape, the memories of the last time you got so close to Yeonjun warning you to get as far from him as you could, only to find that it was just you and him, trapped in a space that wouldn’t even allow you to shift backwards.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice taunting as he waited for your next move, “Claustrophobic?”

The weapon in your hand began to heat up, your mind working its hardest to form a plan that would work and let you come out alive. You already knew what this fire around you would do; It wasn’t a simple flame, and the scar on your chest that throbbed painfully in this demonic presence was enough proof of that.

The moment you had healed from your first encounter with Yeonjun, you had put all of the knowledge you had acquired from experience and older, more experienced witches into putting a weapon that would help you with violent demonic problems like him. It had taken you weeks of pure isolation and meditation to engrave the correct energy into the weapon, afraid to make any mistake that could lead to something drastic. By the time you were finished putting the last few touches on the weapon, (a protective incation; the words engraving themselves in fine print letter by letter as you poured the last of your energy into it,) you could barely stand, landing yourself at the house of a medic that specialized with witches.

“You’re lucky that you managed to come out of this with just drained energy,” He had told you one day, standing next to your cot and handing you a homemade medicine; its taste was horrendous, but it did the job.

“I’ve dealt with witches, succeeding or not, that had come out in a much worse condition. You’re very powerful, that much I can tell.” He confessed, his face sobering as he remembered why it was that you were there, “Whatever it is that you’re dealing with, I wish you luck.”

And now here you stand, the results of all your hard work and patience vibrating the more you concentrate on defeating the demon in front of you.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and hurt me with that,” Yeonjun laughed, watching the way your grip tightened the moment he landed his eyes on it, your knuckles turning white with the force, “You know your little knife can’t hurt me, right?”

While it was true that regular knives were nothing more but toys to him, you knew that what you were holding was not a regular knife.

But he didn’t.

You remained silent as you stared at him, quirking a brow to silently challenge him. He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your demeanor.

“Giving me the silent treatment now?” He said, pausing for a moment before looking back at you, “Fine. You think you can hurt me with that little kitchen knife?” With a single movement of his hands, the fire dwindled, going down until it was no more,

“Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”

You suppressed a smile.

Yeonjun was a lot of things. Strong, powerful, smart, hell, he was a bit attractive too.

But above all, he was cocky.

Slowly, and as subtly as you could, you adjusted your stance, your eyes never leaving his, ready to let your shield down to attack him.

“No games?”

His lips quirked up, his hands coming up to his sides to show you his full vulnerability.

“Fair and square. Here, I’ll even let you make the first move.” His pitch black eyes twinkled with his signature playfulness, his thoughts displaying to you loud and clear;

I thought you were smarter than this.

You fought the urge to scoff, and instead surveyed him for a moment, stepping back to give yourself a bit more room. He watched intently, his body language open and relaxed, clearly not threatened by you.

You lunged forward.

Before Yeonjun could move away, you swung your knife towards him, your stomach sinking as you missed your target, his neck, and sliced at his face instead. His head turned to the side, a hiss emitting from him as he turned back to you, the slash on his cheek burning into his skin, going deeper into his face as he began to bleed.

Except that wasn’t blood that came out of his face.

A thin liquid, pure black and mixed with the poison of your blade, trickled down his face. Slowly, he brought up a hand to his cheek, touching tentatively at his wound, observing the black substance that poured out of him, before turning back to you.

“Come on, you little vixen,” he groaned, the nickname that he called you from your first meeting rolling off his tongue smoothly, “Not the face!”

Cocky bastard.

But now that your first move was over, Yeonjun took a minute to crack his neck, the black liquid trailing down to his neck as he slowly rolled his head back, pausing for a second before straightening up, smiling at you sweetly.

“My turn.”

Right as you were going to activate your shield once more, Yeonjun ran to you, landing a solid punch to your stomach, sending you flying to the wall behind you, the wind being knocked out of you on impact as you crumbled to the floor. Looking up, you saw him lunge at you once more, mumbling your incantation for your shield, successfully knocking him back at the last second. Tumbling backward, Yeonjun layed on the floor as you slowly got back up, using the wall behind you as support, the wild and unhinged sound of Yeonjun’s laugh echoing off the walls.

“Oh, my little vixen,” he began, sitting up as he watched you regain your composure. “I missed this. I must admit, you have gotten stronger.” Standing back up slowly, you felt the room slowly heat up. You shifted, knowing what it was that he was about to do next.

“It’s exciting.”

Running towards him, you did your best to avoid the trail of fire that was now after you, ready to swing your knife at him as you got closer. Just as you were close enough to him, you swung towards his neck once more, the predictable movement allowing Yeonjun to step aside, only to get a kick to his chest, successfully knocking him down and allowing you to dive down, the fire that was about to pierce the center of your back flying instead to the wall in front of you, the loud boom barely covering Yeonjun’s scream as you dug your knife into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

You towered over him, straddling his waist and putting as much weight as you could to keep him down. His hands immediately reached up to clasp over yours, attempting to pull the weapon out, only to have you retaliate by digging it into his skin more, his cursing filling up your ears as he struggled against you.

Your jaw clenched and you felt yourself begin to sweat, the same ring of fire from before beginning to enclose around you slowly with no signs of stopping. Your hands began to burn underneath Yeonjun’s touch, obviously his doing as he seemed to concentrate on attempting to scare you off with the same fire that landed you on the brink of death from your first encounter.

But you refused.

You refused to allow the demon to live any longer, to continue to terrorize innocent and defenseless people in your town, or in this world at all. And now that you had him under your grip, your hands struggling to successfully behead him, you weren’t going to let a little bit of pain scare you away.

Your hands began to numb under the heat of his skin, popping noises emitting from under his iron grip. He was attempting to break your hands, to render them useless, but with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pushed on, biting back your own groans of pain and trying to concentrate on your current task, and nothing else.

“Come on my vixen, give it up,” he said, his voice laced with pain and false confidence that he attempted to use in order to make you believe that he remained unaffected. But as your knife inched towards his neck, piercing through his skin and emitting a loud sizzling sound, you knew that it was all a bluff by the way he winced, a low grunt of pain escaping him.

“I really don’t want to hurt you, you know,” he confessed, the ring of fire snapping angrily at your legs, the heat making you want to faint from overexertion. But you continued to push on, much to Yeonjun’s annoyance. “Fine, you asked for it.”

He screwed his eyes shut, the ring of fire slightly calming down, along with his iron grip on your hands. Just as you were about to take this chance and behead him, you felt something coming.

You turned around.

A ball of pitch black fire, resembling a pure void, flew towards you.

It all happened so fast. Throwing you off of him, Yeonjun staggered away from you, watching silently as the void of black washed over you, your screams of agony causing him to look away, the slightest bit of pity washing over him.

This was it, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t move as this void of fire washed over you, a feeling as though every bone in your body was being broken and you were being turned inside out coarsed through your system, your screams ripping through your throat, the wish for death appearing in your heart.

But right as you felt as though you were going to black out, it stopped.

And Yeonjun stood over you.

He watched as you lay there, completely paralyzed with pain. It took a bit before you began to breathe again, your chest barely rising, the air flowing into you causing you pain. Slowly, you opened your eyes, Yeonjun’s face inches from yours, the dark liquid from his wounds dripping onto you.

“I almost feel sorry,” he whispered, his lips grazing yours. You tried to hold on, to finish your job, but the very effort of having to breathe exhausted you beyond belief. Slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss more of a half hearted apology as he lingered there for a second, his lips still against yours. His mind reeled at the feeling, and he pulled away, a soft smile on his face as he slowly brought his hand down, hesitating before caressing your exhausted face slowly, spreading his own blood on your face.

He grinned.

“I look forward to our next battle.”

And he was gone.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you collapsed.

[tobealostwanderer]

The Sun of the North - Chapter One

Oberyn Martell x OFC (x Ellaria Sand)

Warnings: 18+, descriptions of blood and gore, descriptions of death, eventual romance, eventual smut, eventual polyamory, I know barerly anything about GoT deserves it's own warning, Oberyn being OOC, story diverts from the show and book.

Timeline: This is set just after the death of Elia Martell. So Doran and Oberyn should be around 31 and 21 I think? I tried to make the ages make sense to but it is a bit confusing at times so I am keeping them at those ages. Amore is 19 years old when she travels to Sunspear, and Mara is 11.

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones nor Of Ice And Fire. The rights belong to HBO and George R.R. Martin. I only own my characters, Amore Snow and Mara Snow.

I have just seen 3 seasons of GoT when I was like 16 so I can't remember a lot from it. I do try to be as accurate as possible by using Wikis and other fanfiction but please bear with me if I mess up events.

Masterlist

Taglist

Wordcount: 1492

Westeros was a peculiar place. From the cold, icy planes of the North to the sweltering heat of the South. Danger lurked everywhere and it was easy to be used as a pawn in the Game of Life. The game that had claimed a lot of people in wars and negligence of Lords.

My parents had been claimed a long time ago. The war had reached our little village and anyone not willing to send out their sons were found guilty of conspiracy against the Lord of the land. And thus my parents had been killed because they only had borne daughters. My eldest sister died along them as she tried to protect us from the vile men. I was only eight years of age when I was given the care of my younger sister, just a babe, and told to run away with our trusty horse, Steps.

And now? We have learned to live on the streets. Going from town to town, begging for food. Mara helped, being so young and innocent she reeled in a lot of coin in our earlier days which helped me buy her warm clothes and milk, and me some broth.

And so we had wandered Westeros for years and years, never being able to be settle down but always longing for home. That is when I met them, on my one and sixth year of age. The Starks were kind people and cared for us like we were their own. I would never be able repay Rickard and Lyarra Stark for what they have done for me or Mara but they always told me not to worry.

And thus we grew up with Brandon, Eddard, Lyanna and Benjen. Brandon was the eldest, then me, Eddard, Lyanna, Benjen and Mara. We were happy even though I saw the worry lines on Rickard’s face grow every day as the Mad King reigned. But he found joy in all of us. He taught me how to fight a few moons after my one and fifth birthday and soon Eddard and Brandon helped me as well. I turned out to be a great fight with daggers, swift but deadly, and enjoyed pinning down the taller and stronger guys as much as I enjoyed a good honey nut treat.

But this happiness didn’t last for years. And soon the upcoming war would take my father and brother. And me? Well..

I was standing on the deck of the tiny ship. My skirts and hair flowed behind me as the harsh wind whipped around me. The Shivering Seas did well to it’s name. It was cold, but it was always cold in the North.

I was on my way to Dorne. To pay respects to the Martells. The news of the death of Elia and her children had reached us and I had begged Lyanna, my adoptive mother, to let me go to Dorne on behalf of the Starks. She argued that it wasn’t a good idea, that the people of Dorne and the Martells were hurting and visiting would be unwise after such a brutal end to their lives. I understood. After everything, she was hurting so much, she couldn’t bear to lose another child. I went anyway, in the dark of the night, on my own. I had left a letter for Mother, Benjen and Mara to read and disembarked on my way to Sunspear.

I had met Elia Martell a few times. She was a kind soul and the brutal death of her and her children had shocked me. The letter in which her death was announced described the horrid scene in which people found her. Little Aegon was most likely flung against the wall, his little head bashed against the stones and he likely died of impact. Rhaenys was stabbed many times, almost unrecognisable on the cold stone flooring. Elia was brutally raped many times, having been covered and smudged into her own children’s blood before her head was crushed, making her almost unrecognisable as well.

Nowhere in the letter it spoke of whoever could’ve done this abhorrent thing so as the news spread through Winterfell, whispers were heard of who it could be. I had my own ideas. It couldn’t be a normal soldier, they wouldn’t be able to crush someone’s skull like that. And with the Lannisters sieging the Keep, my guesses went out to the Mountain, Tyrel Lannister’s Right Hand.

A sigh left me as I mulled over the contents of that letter. I don’t know what I would’ve done if Mara was brutally murdered like that. And after Lyanna’s disappearance and death, and Father and Brandon being held hostage and being killed afterwards, I don’t think that my heart could survive anymore heartbreak. I rather be killed a thousand times in the most horrible ways then go through the heartbreak of losing someone close to me again.

And still I went to Dorne. I needed to find a bit of closure after everything that happened. I needed something else after being cooped up in Winterfell for so long. Living in fear there, it almost made me forget all the good memories I held there. I couldn’t walk through the halls where Lyanna’s, Rickard’s and Brandon’s ghosts walked. I couldn’t go there without Eddard, who was still in King’s Landing. I couldn’t face Mara and Benjen, who were still so young and happy. I couldn’t be in the same room as Mother, who was still mourning everything, trying to hold it together for the sake of the land.

The days on the sea seemed to flow together like the waves we moved on. It was all so blended together. Every night I sat with the Captain over maps as he explained where we were, how far away we were of Winterfell and Sunspear. It would take a while, but the men working the ship were good company and polite enough to me. Even though I was used to disgusting language and glances, they were kind enough to me nonetheless.

It took a week and a half. The weather went from icy cold to smothering hot and the dresses I had brought along were suffocating and I went about my day in just my chemise, linen skirt and a thin overdress. It was modest enough but kept me cooler than the woollen dresses in my trunk.

As Sunspear came in view, I grew nervous. I had send my personal raven to Prince Doran to alert of my arrival and had received a positive answer back but even so, this is the first time since Mara and I have been taken in by the Starks that I have travelled. And the first time ever that I travelled alone. And I wished that my stay would be welcome and without burden.

We docked and I smiled at the crew and thanked the Captain as I set my feet on solid land. I was a little unstable but managed to keep my composure as the welcoming party approached. Two bannermen with the banners of House Martell, a handful of guards and at front the second Prince of Dorne, Oberyn.

He looked tired and a bit stern. His lips pulled down in a frown, unlike the smiles he constantly wore the day I met him. I curtsied when he stopped in front of me, a soft “Prince Oberyn” left my lips as I met his eyes again, coming out of the curtsy.

“Milady Amore, welcome to Sunspear.” A guard said. I inclined my head to the guard in acknowledgement and met Oberyn’s eyes again. “My family sends it’s condolences to you and your brother, Prince Doran, after the passing of your sister and her children, Prince Oberyn. We are saddened by the news and House Stark wishes to be of help during this harsh time.” It didn’t seem like my forced words were of any comfort to the Prince. He looked even angrier with every word spoken. I hoped that my eyes could send him my true message. “I am sorry that I am the only one of my family willing to come and I hope my presence isn’t another slap in the face. I want to help..”

“Thank you for your words, Lady Amore.” Prince Oberyn said. His voice was low and grave. He mentioned me to walk with him so I slipped my arm in his open one and we made our way through Sunspear to the Old Palace.

The walk was quiet apart from the bustling and talking of people in the city as we made our way through. Oberyn was obviously hurting and it made me curse my words with every step I took. I squeezed his arm briefly to comfort him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him glance at me but I ignored it, just focusing on getting to the Palace.

Oh I hope that this was a good idea…

Chapter Two

Taglist: @pedropastelpascal,

[burning-clutch]

Headstrong With Headstones

cross posted on a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30588233

-.-.-.-.-.-

Ghosts are always around to ruin Danny’s day. Nothing new there, but what came of it when the Red huntress tackled him and sent them both through the ghost catcher? Well, this was new...

Warnings: descriptions of death-like trama, injuries 

Prompt by: EchoGhost

Valerie, as the Red Huntress, is chasing Phantom and they end up both accidentally flying through the Fenton Ghost Catcher together. This causes Danny to end up with the hunter suit and Valerie to end up with ghost powers. (Optional: When Val goes ghost she still looks exactly like Phantom.)

Whoo boy, this one was a ride! Fun to write though but boy! Did it get away from me! it’s a long one! Anyway, enjoy! Unbetaed.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I am really hating these things!” Phantom called out as he flew about the area blasting another giant ant looking. 

He had no idea where these things came from or why but suddenly Amity was overrun with ant and bug ghosts that were just… everywhere. They were large, as far as bugs go, that is, ranging from the size of a house cat to a large dog, and each seemed to be either possessing citizens or stealing food to bring back for their queen. 

Why they needed physical food, Danny wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t about to let them stick around to let them accomplish their goal to find out. He looked over his shoulder as Sam and Tucker wrestled with a thirty something woman who was howling in rage tied up in a Fenton fishing line before they tossed her through the Ghost Catcher to separate out the ghost bug from the woman. 

That done they blasted the ant ghost causing it to explode. “At least these things aren’t hard to destroy,” Tucker said, a disgusted look on his face. At least they had managed to get the catcher down here to the epicentre of the ant outbreak. Ant-break? Eh…. 

ng ghost. The ectoplasmic drone exploded into goo making Danny wince. “Ugh nasty... “ The halfa complained “At least we’re finally getting through them... “ Sam sighed in agreement. Though she would rather they catch the ghosts overblowing them up into goo she couldn’t deny the effectiveness. It was faster and more efficient to do rather than catch them in the thermoses and given they were only ecto constructs she couldn’t feel too bad about the whole thing. They just really needed to find the queen ant ghost sooner rather than later given that these things would never stop coming otherwise. 

“Come on Tuck there's more down here! I just saw, like, eight go down the alley,” Sam said to her current partner in ghost busting. Tucker groaned but readied his lipstick blaster nonetheless and followed closely behind the dark haired girl. 

Phantom watched them go before turning his attention back to the task at hand shooting through a random old man to pull out a ghost and explode that removed one as well as a larger one sneaking up on him all with the same large ecto blast. 

A call of triumph was soon changed into a call of pain as Phantom was suddenly shot in the back. "I don't know how you're involved in this but I know you are, ghost!" Came an all too familiar and rather unwelcome voice from behind the halfa. 

"Can we not right now Red?" Phantom complained. That shot between his shoulder blades had hurt! And he had really hoped that one of the ant ghosts had just been stronger than the others. Wishful thinking…

"Don't wanna hear your 'hero' spiel, ghost! Once I take care of you these bugs will be gone!" The Red Huntress spat back angrily. 

"Me being here, and those bugs are not connected!" Phantom called back in exasperation just barely dodging a blast from the hunter. 

"Stay still and let me end you ghost!"

"Tempting offer but, no. Gonna have to pass on that." Phantom called, aiming a shot and knocking the gun from Red's hands before trying to flee from her all the while still trying to round up the ghost bugs he came across. 

It didn't exactly bode well with Valerie. The huntress dove after her gun, catching it before it smashed to the ground below, and tearing after the monochromatic ghost. “Get back here you ectoplasmic skum!” She yowled punching the gas so to speak, as she tried to gain headway against Phantom’s much more agile form.

“Oh! Good one! Haven’t heard that one every day of my afterlife! You need new insults!” He taunted blasting an ant ghost before slipping underground hoping to shake the huntress. 

Red growled and brought up the information she’d need to track the menace in her visor eager to try and pinpoint where that jerk would be coming out. Thankfully her instruments didn’t fail her and she was able to see where he was, and got into position to head him off at the pass. 

When Phantom did reemerge he did so invisibly not that it made a difference to the hunter, her visor showing where he was rather accurately. She fired, landing the hit on Phantom forcing him to drop his invisibility and jump back into the normal visible spectrum. 

The ghost blinked at her stupidly a moment before asking, “New upgrades?” 

“Yes, All the better to take revenge on you!” 

“You’re still on about that?! You know I’m the ghost in this relationship, right? I’m supposed to be the one with the obsession?” He called only to let out a yelp and dodge down out of the way of the incoming missiles barely a second later. 

“The only relationship we have is hunter and prey!” Red called out in rage making Phantom grimace. 

The ghost turned to shoot any of the tracking missiles that were still coming at him before telling the girl, “You know you sound like Skulker right?! Like ew!” 

“Shut up! You have no idea what this is like!” 

“I was alive once ya know” Phantom argued back dodging another volley of shots and ducking down weaving under a billboard. “If anything you’re the one who doesn’t understand! Not to mention the anger issues!” 

“I’ll show you anger issues!” Red quipped back yelping as her gun was shot out of her hand and exploded into bits from a follow up shot from Phantom.  She was nearly out of ammo for that one anyway… 

Still, she gave pursuit, even if she was ill prepared, given how fast she booked it out and after that stupid spectre when he appeared on her radar she was a little light, not that it mattered. Still, she hated to admit but she was well aware that if these bug things were Phantom’s he wouldn’t just be destroying them… it didn’t fit his MO.

Then again this was a ghost they were looking at as if they had any rational thought or feelings whatsoever! She could almost laugh at the thought. A ghost with actual feelings. HA! No matter though this time, this time she’d have him… he was weak after fighting all those other ghosts after all those minor literal bugs that needed to be squashed. She would take care of Phantom first then finish the mess he undoubtedly created. 

Red let out a growl of frustration as her shots went wide, her anger causing her to miss, she knew it was that but she found herself seeing, well, red. She yelped at the burn her hand and arm sustained as Phantom blasted at her gun again, sort of missing his target and causing the weapon to explode in her hand. Of course, that only served to make her madder. 

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. 

While Phantom was gloating about his shot or some other such thing, no that sorry was sarcastic! How could it be anything else from a ghost?! She shot forward at top speed, the motor in her board whirring and whining in dismay as she punished it for all it had, slamming into Phantom and more or less tackling him with her board. 

He yelped in surprise and she activated the stinger prod on the end of the board giving the stupid ghost a good amount of electricity. 

Phantom screeched something fierce, a horrid sound that she had never heard before and his eyes widened in fear.  GOOD! He finally knew to fear her! She shocked him again still moving forward to keep him on the end of her board.

In her delirium of finally getting something in on that stupid ghost she wasn’t exactly looking where she was steering, and well, to say she was shocked when she had passed through the Ghost catcher would be an understatement. 

Pain, that’s all her mind knew, and that’s all Phantom’s knew as well as the ghostly energies and anti-energies hit the semi permeable film of the catcher. Valerie screeched, her own pitch seeming to match Phantom’s as they passed through. 

She hears herself grunt, but it didn’t come from her own throat. 

She felt herself groaning, but it sounded much too deep… 

"What?" She heard her voice ask. "I- o-oh wait… Valerie!?"

The Huntress in question opened her eyes and blinked a few times staring at her own visor, and it took her a few seconds to realize what exactly she was looking at. Frantically she stands up or at least tries to, given she floated upwards towards the sky. Her robotic suit is now replaced with a black and white skin tight suit. 

Phantom on the other hand had instantly felt heavy and hot. But when he saw a semi red tinted version of his own glowing green eyes staring back at him, the sparking ghost catcher in the background…

Well, his first thought was he separated from himself... but he still felt like himself and thought as he normally would… but then... hearing Valerie's voice come out of his own throat?

"Well shit" Danny managed to say smartly

Valerie screamed realizing she was looking at herself, her body, still in her Huntress suit. She waved her arms as she yelled obscenities, joining in Phantom’s own frantic flailing as the ghost boy tried to calm her down.

" Phantom what did you do? How dare you take over my body! Why am I stuck in your gross floaty one?!” The huntress turned ghost screeched. 

“You think I planned this? I don’t wanna be a girl! This is your fault you’re the one who threw us through the catcher! You should know by now that m- The Fenton’s inventions do some whack stuff!” Danny argued hauling himself up to his feet properly and flailing his arms in circles to keep balance. He was both not used to being (fully) human as well as having a different centre of gravity, not to mention the suit covering his new form. 

This wasn’t like possession at all. With that, it was like wearing a tight suit. It wasn’t too terrible overall but at the same time you instinctively knew how to move within one, this was a whole new experience, like being given stilts and set onto a tightrope and told to cross the canyon, all with an additional fifty pounds strapped to you.

“I can’t even begin to tell you how mad I am at this!”  Valerie said as she grabbed onto a crack in the concrete to keep herself from floating away before face planting into the gravel and grunting. Phantom couldn’t help but smirk behind the visor despite himself. “Are you? Because the way I see it you’re the ghost, your anger isn’t real, your feelings are just remnants of what you remember anger to be.” He shot her condescending look that was hidden behind the helmet, but oh! It felt good to throw that back at her.

“What!? No! That is not how this works, ghost!” Valerie screeched out, reaching a rather impressive octave with his vocal cords. 

“Actually it completely is. I’m not possessing you, otherwise, my “body”-” He held up his fingers to do the air quotes here “-wouldn’t still be here, and it definitely wouldn’t do this when I overshadow someone.” 

“Why you!”

“Hey chill all we gotta do is go back through the-” Danny’s voice dropped off into silence as he stared up at the ghost catcher with a deepening frown. The center where the ethereal ‘thread’ of the catcher was had broken leaving a fancy looking bubble ring at best and a really bad eye of Sauron at worst. 

“Okay, New plan we get that fixed and then we can get this whole thing straightened around,'' Phantom said with a firm nod to himself after flailing his hands back and forth to himself and… himself… oh his head was going to hurt. 

Valerie yelped as her feet started to sink through the concrete, causing Phantom to snort. “Not so easy is it?” He retorted smugly doing his best impression of a bitchy prep, now that he had the vocal cords for it. Though when he realized that the slow descent into the concrete wasn’t stopping making the asphalt look more like quicksand than anything, Danny rushed forward to grab the ghostly upper arm.

He was glad for once that this suit had anti phase capabilities. Valerie on the other hand had a gambit of emotions cross her face. Confusion and fear were being the most prominent as well as anger. 

And how could she not! That ghost had her body, and while he had made the mention of her emotions not being ‘real’ she knew that it was because her brain and whatever her consciousness was made up of was over here in Phantom. He was still the same evil conniving ghost as always and she wasn’t sure how he had planned this, but she just knew that this was a plot of some kind to make her life even more of a hell for her. 

Still, phasing through things she could do without. “You have to focus on staying solid as your body, er my body I guess, will naturally want to turn intangible. The same thing with flight, you have to will yourself to stay on the ground, your default is to float so if you want to stay in one spot you have to will yourself there…. It- It’s like have you ever had a lucid dream?” 

Valerie blinked at the ghost, her? … at the words before they actually registered. Why would he bother trying to help her? Wouldn't it be easier to have her crippled under a new body and new powers and all the confusion that surrounds it? 

“What?” She said after a moment of thought. He had to be tricking her somehow with this right? There’s no way… “As if I’d trust anything you have to say.” 

“What?! Don’t be stupid that is my body! I spent long enough accidentally phasing through stuff that I learned how to will myself to work!” Phantom argued indignantly. 

"Fine" she snapped out, relenting slightly, but only just. She figured that if, and that's an IF the size of a planet… if he really didn't somehow plan this She supposed it wouldn't hurt to try what he was saying. After all, if she didn't play nice, why knows what crimes he'll commit while inhabiting her body.

Valerie shuddered as a good number of thoughts entered her head about what Phantom could potentially do with her body. Make her look like a fool, ruin her reputation! … What could she do in Phantoms? How was this real? How did that… whatever of the Fentons make this happen? Thinking about this too much would undoubtedly make her head hurt. 

Right focus, keep yourself solid. “It’s harder than it looks, you know. Like I said when I had that whole thing with Cujo I couldn’t control myself entirely and controlling him too, well….” Phantom piped up earning a glare from the huntress. 

“Shut up!” Valerie roared earning a blast of sound from her jaws as she had the bar start of a ghostly wail.

Phantom squawked and covered his ears, thankful the helmet was still on given it blocked out a good amount of the sound. “Easy your emotions make you- my powers go haywire!” 

“Valerie’s eyes widened as she stared at the small trail of destruction she had caused. It… it was that easy to flip over three cars and punch a hole in a building?! And phantom… Phantom held this kind of raw power? Well, now she did... This pure, unrestrained power that was so hard to control and if she focused she could feel it just below the surface in her chest, running outward and under her skin like an electric current, writhing through her veins like caterpillars. 

She was disgusted by it… she was thrilled by it… she was genuinely afraid of it…

“Y-You can just…” She trailed off. She didn’t want to say what she had done, what she had just seen, or acknowledge what she was still seeing… that trail of rubble there, she didn’t want to talk about it… as about it, but she had to… and yet, she didn’t want it to be made real by her accepting it...

“Like I said it takes a while to learn control.” Phantom offered simply. 

“Stay right where you are spook!” Jack Fenton’s voice was suddenly echoing down the street causing Danny to instinctively throw up his hands before giving an “Oh wait.” and looking to Val with a mix of emotions on his face. 

“He’s talking to you” Phantom taunted knowingly. At least Jack was a bit of a ways off, though closing in fast… They had at least a minute for him to get into firing range.

“What no! You’re the ghost!” 

“Not from where I’m standing.” Phantom shot back hotly, and he was right… technically… And Valerie really hated that he was right! “We gotta get you, me, US We gotta get outta here!” Phantom stammered out, grabbing the ghost’s arm before bolting down the nearest alleyway. Danny shoved Valerie in his body back deeper into the dark of the alley wincing as he realized she may need to transform. Then again… “How do I use your board?” Phantom half asked half yelled out  at the huntress, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look into her own panicked eyes. 

“Why should I tell you?!” She spat back indignantly. Thankfully, or rather unluckily depending on how you look at it, an ectoblast shot their way clipping an overhead fire escape and pinging off the metal. Phantom simply threw his arm up towards the scorch mark with a huff of his own. “You wanna feel what those are like?” He says eyes narrowing the visors glow seemed to enhance the effect. 

“Ugh fine,” Though it was meant to sound like reluctant compliance, the hitch in the tone gave her worry away. “Just jump into the air and call it up like mentally.” 

He huffed and jumped up, only to land back down a second later with a frown. Again he tried going higher in his jump and clicking his heels together, this time it spawned the board but he simply hovered there on it. “And to fly?” Phantom asked ducking out of pure instinct as another ecto shot flew their way.

“Like surfing, or skateboarding Lean the way you want to go, put the pressure on your front foot for up and back for down.” Came the semi-rushed answer. Phantom nodded, grabbed Valerie and shot up like a rocket. The ghost let out a yelp and ended up overcompensating, sending them into a barrel roll as they climbed up into the clouds. By the time he managed to regain control he felt like he was going to barf, but Valerie only looked mildly annoyed. “Electromagnetic boots?” He asked wobbling a bit as he tried to haul his counterpart onto the board. 

“Yep,” Came the answer as Valerie settled on the edge of the board with a defeated sigh. 

“Just so you know I’m still blaming you for this. The only reason I’m playing nice with you right now is because I know if I don’t you’ll mess up something in my body or my suit.” Valerie hissed after a moment’s silence. 

“Right ‘cuz I was totally the one who tackled us through that catcher.” Came the bitter retort. “I wish just once you would listen to me! Those ants are not my fault!” 

“Then why bother trying to do anything about it?! Ghosts only want to manipulate people and I know if you’re not responsible for this mess then you’re making hay in the sunshine and taking advantage so that you can force people to view you as a hero,” She spat out making a scrunched face that very much did not belong on Phantom’s features. 

“What? No! If I could do that don’t you think I would have?” 

“Maybe you’re just not strong enough yet, need more believers or something.” 

“You saw what ‘power’ I actually have Valerie, hell you used some of it! And by accident!” 

“Well,” She sputtered shifting uncomfortably unable to deny what she had seen, done… what she could still sort of make out from here.

“And what was with the electricity earlier? That is beyond cruel you know! Keeping that up as long as you did!” Phantom raged the cybernetics seeming to respond in kind, a small laser popping out of his shoulder which the former halfa growled at and physically pushed back down to get it to go away.

“You’re a ghost! You don’t feel pain in the same way humans do.” Valery shot back reciting the rote excuse he had heard far too often. 

Phantom saw red, and not just because of the visor he was currently forced to wear. So he did the only thing that his brain could think of. He slapped himself in the face. “OW! What the hell Phant-?!”

“Oh shut up! The pain’s all in your head! It’s not real! You’re just imagining it! You’re simply an imprint of who you once were, you’re not a person anymore, and feelings aren’t real because you're not human!” Phantom ranted and raved. When he was done he found himself panting heavily the excursion much more mental but ANCIENTS did it feel good to finally do that and scream and not take out a city block. 

“Do you remember your time as Valerie Grey?” he asked after a few moments of getting his breathing in check.

“W-What? Are you stupid of course I do!” Valerie responded instantly, creeped out that the ghost knew her full name and identity but given the display of raw anger she had just witnessed she smartly decided to not bother to hedge that issue just yet.  “We only just had this mess happen…” She offered up not fully sure what more to say. 

“So you can say you died at that moment, well congrats, you’re no longer the person you once were, you’re not Valerie any longer, you are an imprint of what that person was and your memories of being human mean nothing.” Phantom hissed out lowly. This time he wasn’t shouting, but his tone was the purest sour thing she had ever heard come out of any single person.

“Well, I’m you.” She stated dumbly. Even though she was looking at herself and it was sort of an uncanny valley sort of thing to be looking at she still saw Phantom, raw feral and angry… The fact that she was technically the more powerful of them right now didn’t even register. 

“That doesn’t matter, you’re not me you’re a ghost. It doesn’t matter who you were before you’re a ghost now and that’s all they’ll ever see.”  He was shaking in barely constrained anger now. Valerie at least had the wherewithal to know that if positions were reversed and she was feeling the fury that the other was putting out, she would have come at the subject of her ire guns blazing...

Valerie opened her mouth and closed it a few times realizing something. She could literally feel the rage and sadness flowing out of the ghost controlling her body. She wanted to believe it was simply that the ghost was in HER body that the emotions were prevalent, but they were far too strong to be imitations…

 She knew why she could feel, could taste, the emotions coming out of the other, and how it seemed to give a small boost of energy. It was sort of like eating something really sugary, the small jolt she got with it wouldn’t last long and she knew it instinctively, but the fact it gave a boost at all… Ghosts couldn’t feed on other ghost’s emotions… it’s one of the reasons they attacked humans after all…

She wanted to retort to the spectre snap at him like she always would but she couldn’t find it in herself… she simply felt… deflated... And it wasn’t just because her arm had all but disappeared into a wisp of smoke either…

She swallowed thickly letting the stupid ghost arm do whatever it wanted (why did she have to control these body parts) and took in a deep sigh. “You said the shock was cruel… Why?” She wondered after a moment. 

Phantom had somehow managed to figure out how to open and disappear the helmet while Valerie was staring down at her, his, gloved hands, so it was a shock to see the whirlwind of storm clouds behind her own eyes. Phantom was always expressive, but it seemed to hit her harder seeing it on her own face… it looked far too real, too convincing in her own dark eyes.

“Take off the glove, the right one.” He says simply, almost too softly for her to hear.

It confused her, she hadn’t thought a ghost’s clothing could be removed… but, she did. There was little she would have thought to have seen under the glove but this? This wasn’t anything she was prepared for.

The fingers on the hand were deathly pale, but with a green underlay that was especially noticeable in the fingernails. Not a surprise really there… but just before the third knuckles the back of the hand started to deepen looking almost like something you’d find on an eighty year old, or a bit of dried wood one would toss in a fire, before fading back out and becoming the tanned green colour at the wrist that Phantom sported on his face. 

Litchendburg scars were obvious and prevalent along the back of the hand, worsening into an almost perfect circle on his palm, about the size of a quarter and indented just a little bit. Now that she was looking at it, it was like his hand was burned clean through on the palm…. And those lightning bolt shaped scars, well, she knew what that meant. 

“Death marks,” Phantom says simply almost reading her mind as she stared at the palm. “It’s exactly what you think it was and the scars snake around my arm all the way to my chest…. Kinda figure the whole thing exploded my heart and that’s what actually killed me...”

 “And… You remember it?” Valerie asked, eyes widening in realization. Somehow talking to the ghost boy like this with his words coming out of her mouth… it seemed to make this all the more validating to her like she was finally hearing him for the first time… She probably was, now that she’d thought about it…

“Yeah, I remember a lot of my life… not everything mind you but it’s like remembering a dream you had the morning after…” Phantom says softly. That much was true, despite his halfa status, everything from before he became a half ghost was kind of hazy at best and shrouded in a dream like fog at worst. There were some memories he had that if he didn’t see photo evidence for it, he would have chalked it up to a kind of lucid dream…

“Oh,” Valerie said. What could she say to that? “And the ghost powers..? They weren’t innate and instinctual like the Fenton’s say were they?” 

“No, it has been a trial by fire since the first day I died…” Phantom responded solemnly 

She felt like dirt, and she glared at her whispering body before scrunching up her face and willing herself solid. She couldn’t control what her body was doing, she had no idea how to work any of… this! How many times had Phantom told her it was an accident and she refused to believe him?!

It was only now was she seeing the ghost she had been actively and relentlessly hunting as simply a teen who got thrown in too deep too fast over his head and was trying to make the most of it. Though there was one thing she didn’t quite understand, and she had wondered about it since she had first laid eyes on the odd monochromatic ghost.

“Why do you attack other ghosts at all?” She asked simply giving into her wondering. 

“Because I wanna protect the people I left behind…” He answered earnestly

Valerie thought about that, he had said it before sure, but somehow it felt different this time he’d said it. Maybe she was overthinking it now? Or this was the first time she had given it any thought at all? 

She stared down at her, at  Phantom’s ungloved hand with a frown. Maybe he wanted to protect people to save people because no one came to save him? Almost sounded like too noble a thought to be wasted on some dumb ghost…

She shook her head wanting to end that train and derail it before it even left the station. She knew damn well it was her own anger and brashness that got her into this whole freaky Friday thing, but she would never admit to it aloud...

“How do we fix this?” She asked after a few more beats of listening to the soft whirring of the hoverboard beneath her. 

“The Fenton Catcher got us into this, the Fenton Catcher can get us out,” Danny said simply. “IT’s like I was saying earlier. The electricity you were hitting me with overloaded the catcher and made it go haywire but luckily there is a reverse side to the thing, we just gotta hope the Fentons either fix the one that got fried or we hope they have a spare.” Phantom replied candidly. With a hum, the ghost boy tapped a finger on his, her lip. 

The action was so normal yet so bewildering to her as she watched herself perform it. It was clearly something unconscious he did, given the thousand yard stare he had going on there… Phantom makes her go crosseyed and she couldn’t help but snort. 

Danny knew full well there was a duplicate, well, sort of, of The Catcher in the lab, but the problem was he didn’t know where exactly it was. Secondly, he needed to be sure if it was worth the risk to try and use the catcher 1.0 when it was the updated version that they had been messed up by... The one they also destroyed. 

Well… today seemed to be a sharing and show and tell kind of day so, “Valerie, there's an inside pocket on that suit, the zipper is under the collar since you probably can’t phase through yourself with any sort of control… Um, in that pocket there's a cell phone. Can you grab it and hand it to me?” 

“You have a cell phone?” She asked her, his, nose crinkling up giving a look that clearly thought he was a stalker or something. 

“Yes, a friend got it for me…. And before you say anything... Yes, I have friends, NO they are not evil… mostly, and the cellphone is paid for by them.” Phantom preemptively rattled off holding out his hand expectantly. 

Valerie grunted in acknowledgement before fumbling about under the collar of the suit and finding the zipper. “What kind of ghost needs a zipper?” 

“Don’t judge, I didn’t get to choose what I died in, you know.” Phantom huffed out impatiently. 

Valerie blinked and grimaced, sort of feeling bad about the complaint now, though it was instantly rectified by Phantom’s next comment. “Hey lighten up, just gotta laugh at my grave sense of humour.” 

“I will smack you… ugh, I can’t believe I’m undressing a ghost… Here’s your damn phone.” Valerie grumbled pointedly averting her eyes away from the ghost’s bare chest, acting as though she didn’t want to see anything she shouldn’t, in reality, she just didn’t want to see any more scarring and see it as though they were on her body. As it was she’ll be surprised enough if she doesn’t have nightmares.

She was already imagining herself being in Phantom’s spot, burning as you’re being electrocuted. Feeling your heart sputter and stop before being reborn as a ghost confused and lost still remembering everything and knowing you’ve died? She shuddered, and could only hope she would never become a ghost. Having that loom over you every time you saw your reflection didn’t sound like fun at all...

Phantom takes his phone, a flip phone that thankfully, was only ever used for his Phantom needs, and only contained three contacts, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker. Sam paid the bill for him and was a good fail safe if his parents ever punished his human half by taking away his electronics or if he ever had to leave in a hurry he had a secured line that shouldn’t be tied to him really in any way. 

And right now it would work to make sure Valerie doesn’t see a phone was the same as Fenton’s. He flipped open the device, the clamshell was indestructible (mostly) and cheap! By Sam’s standards anyhow, fifty bucks may be nothing to her on her allowance but Danny would have to save up a month to get there. HE shook his head from his musings to focus on the task at hand, sending out a message to the group text asking his friends to either convince his parents to fix the ghost catcher or to retrieve the 1.0 version and set it up somewhere for him to try and fix a problem. He left it vague, apart from telling them he wasn’t exactly himself at the moment, which prompted an instant slew of worried texts from the three people in the chat chain but, well, he could deal with that later, he wrangled the ’ghostkateers’ back in and set them on their way. He just had to hope that he could get through this with his alternative identity intact. 

“What was all that about?” Valerie asked suspiciously. 

Ah, there it was… “I have contact with the Fenton kids… They help me get some of their parents stuff when I need it…. Didn’t you wonder why that Fenton Ghost Catcher was even in the middle of town in the first place?”  Phantom said with a raised brow.

Valerie blinked in thought. She honestly hadn’t put that much thought into it. The Fenton adults had said that Phantom stole their stuff all the time and she’d simply left it at that. Why would she have wasted brain power on it? Though the more she thought about it the more she frowned. 

Phantom was a ghost so just how had he been stealing things from the ghost hunters when they clearly had made and marketed things that stop and keep out ghosts? Phantom needed someone who could actually grab the stuff he needed, to get through the shields… someone(s) who were on the inside, and given how Danny would sometimes meekly defend Phantom, or how Jazz would sometimes ‘trip up’ her parents when they were going after Phantom, well…

Yeah, she really was blinded by her own rage and prejudices… Star was right on that, she supposed… too pinpointed on the small things that were pissing her off the most to focus on the bigger picture going on around her…

She shook her head before burying it in her hands. Ugh, stupid ghost making her question herself.

Phantom sighed and handed the phone back to her instructing her to tuck it away again. Curious she flipped it open and stared at the passcode ask that popped up. She didn’t even think flip phones had passcodes but whatever. She tried to make it look like she was playing with the phone flipping it and closing it, rather than actually trying to snoop… though the scoff from Phantom told her the ruse was pointless. She sighed and put the phone back where she found it. 

Phantom had started grumbling about something under his breath earning a look of confusion from Valerie, though it didn’t take long for her to see what it was he was upset about, as he was trying to get the board to go. Valerie knew she should probably help him but at the same time, she was all too content to simply sit here and sulk.

It was a scream from somewhere below that snapped her from her spiralling thoughts of self depreciation. She instantly noticed two things; firstly how low her glow had become around her arms when she found a particular interest in the stitching in the gloves Phantom wore… and secondly, the scream was almost like a beacon to her, calling her out of her thoughts and making her want to go. 

She felt anxious and antsy all of a sudden like she had to go somewhere, but couldn't. Like when one has to pee really bad but it's during a test, that split if need to go need to stay...she didn't know how to get Phantom's flight to work for her, but she wanted to figure out what the screaming was about… 

Her legs jostle and bounce as she tries to quell the nervous energy she feels building. Why was she suddenly feeling this way? She steals a glance at Phantom, snorting when she sees him trying to unstick himself from the board but another scream for help pulls her attention back to the ground below. 

She could taste the frustration from Phantom and given his growls towards the board he was standing on it was obvious where that was from, but it sort of irked her that he had no urgency about him. Couldn't he hear the screams why weren't they helping!? She had to help! She knew she could so she should! She HAD to even if she didn't know how to help she HAD to… she was compelled to.

"What are you doing? There are people who need help!" She spat feeling her agitation and anxiety rise. Phantom looked to her dumbly before looking down to the ground and noticing the chaos. “Huh…” He said simply eyes lazily roaming the crowd. 

“What do you mean ‘huh?’ This is serious!” Valerie didn’t know why but she felt so much like a caged cat right now wanting to get at some prey that was just beyond her reach. She was almost positive that if she could she would be pacing back and forth on that board.

Phantom watched her twitching, her glow brightening and dimming and her anxiousness that made her look like she was getting ready to jump off this board, damned be the consequences, and he slowly felt a smirk form on his face much to the agitation of the huntress currently in his body. “It’s interesting, I mean… I’m watching this and well, I’m doing what you’re doing… it’s almost a relief” He chuckled dryly. “Jeez, guess I’m really not as much of a hero as I thought I was…” He says almost sadly before running a hand through his, her, hair. 

“Phantom now is not the time to be cryptic! There are people down there who need …. Help…” Her anger suddenly ebbed away as she realized just what Phantom was getting at. How many times had the ghost told her that he just wanted to help? He always had a desperate insanity to his voice when he was tied down by her or some other ghost and he frantically would do anything he could to get out there to HELP.  

“That’s your obsession, isn’t it... “ She clutched at Phantom’s jumpsuit over the ache in her chest where she could feel the ghostly core vibrating violently demanding retribution. It physically hurt, made her want to throw up and she knew the only thing to stop that feeling was to help. 

Perhaps that’s why he was always involved, it was exactly the reason he said it was... He literally had no choice but to help when he saw something he could do… Was that why he was often seen helping out with inane tasks? Carrying things for people rescuing people… hell even rescuing a balloon from a tree for a little kid… He was literally trapped in an endless cycle.

Perhaps her earlier ideas of Phantom wanting to help because he didn’t get help when he needed it most wasn’t so far off. But feeling this now, in his body… it was awful to think that if she had gotten herself killed while chasing Phantom or some other ghost, she would be trapped in a similar cycle, but be even less noble… not to say Phantom was noble but that her ‘quest’ was rather unnoble. 

“Yeah…  guess it is…” Phantom answered sourly as he stared down at the chaos. He wanted to be a hero, he thought he was, he was helping people, saving people, after all right? Though thinking about this revelation…? It seemed to sour the point of him being a hero. If he wasn’t making the choice to help and to save people but being forced to do it… Was he really a hero?

His shoulders slumped as he watched the ghosts attack below. Even still now, he could make the choice right? He may not have his usual repertoire of powers he was used to but Red still had her suit, the suit he was currently occupying.

And looking to the huntress in his body he couldn't help but smirk. At least she would finally be more focused on saving people than shooting him. "Like a skateboard ya said right?" He asked, suddenly earning a bewildered look from the huntress. 

She caught on quickly though, the small smirk appeared on her lips though it looked more conniving on Danny's face. "Yeah, and you think about the guns you want to will them out of the cybernetics." She added.

"For Ectoblasts, do you feel that cold spot in your chest, my chest?" At her nod, he continues. "Force that out and down your arm, gather it in your palm and let it go." He explained eyes narrowing.

Valerie caught on and nodded. "I'll take the left side you take right?" She asked eagerly, wanting to help the people below, not caring that she would be working with Phantom to get it done.

He was making a choice this time. Even if it wasn't him who would be hailed as the hero, given his current attire and whatnot but he wasn't being forced to make this decision. That had to count for something right? 

He grunted as he fumbled around his head trying to put the helmet back up over his head. It takes him a few moments but he was able to get it eventually. He gives a nod and after a few experimental wiggles, he manages to get the hoverboard to sputter forward. He manages to move a little smoother by the time he gets closer to the ground willing out a blaster, he was hoping for something with a little more oomph but well, a wrist blaster worked too he supposed. He sees an ant ghost and fires, following up with more and more taking care of all in his sightlines. He gives a small "sorry!" As he almost knocks someone over but otherwise he seemed to be getting somewhere. 

Valerie on the other hand had stood up into a sort of half crouch and was frantically waving her arm around trying to build the power in her blast hoping she could manage at least one shot. With a growl, she manages to get her hand to glow a bit green, which was progress, but not enough to create an effective attack. She shook her hand again, smacking her wrist a bit as though it were a buggy flashlight, before she was able to send out something a little more decent.

“Heh got ya!” She called out grinning at her mitt of ectoplasm, She may have only burned a hole through a street sign but hey, she got a hit on something so she was still going to count it as a win. “Over here!” Danny perked up hearing Jazz call pointing to the ghost catcher 1.0. Suppose it was better than nothing. He hoped it would do to only have themselves go through the catcher again and not have to recreate the whole process because, ow. The ghost turned huntress pitched a bit sharply earning a growling reprimand from Valerie, though it was quickly rectified by him blasting an ant ghost that was getting ready to jump at them. 

It let out a horrid caterwauling noise, something that made their ears ring from the sound, “Ugh that’s worse than your screaming.” Phantom commented wincing a bit behind the visor, sighing in relief when the noise went silent.

“Ugh, really?” Valerie shot back though she could just make out the playful smirk that was showing on his face. Valerie opened her mouth to retort only to yelp as they pitched a hard right turn and went skyward. She didn’t need to ask why as the large queen ant ghost emerged from the ground. 

The thing was as tall as a small building and as long as a transport truck. And the thing let out a wail that sounded like a mix of a lion and a hog squealing. “Well… That’s bigger than I thought it would be... “ Phantom said with a frown. “I don’t know if I can beat this thing in your body… We gotta get to that catcher!” He called.

The ant queen let out another roar and sent a bit of... Acidic goo... Vomit... stuff towards them. Valerie didn’t want to think too hard on it. Honestly, it looked like ecto snot but came out of what she hoped was the and queens mouth… “Ugh nasty.” She complained watching as the wad of snot sailed over them and into a building, melting it a bit. 

“Yeah, let’s not get hit by that…” Phantom agreed, watching the brick melt away. “I need shields and you need to get your guns back.” He said scanning the ground around the queen to search for where the Catcher had landed. 

“There!” Valerie seemed to catch on to what he was looking for and pointed it out spotting it first. At least they were in agreement on the fact they needed to swap back sooner rather than later.

Phantom leaned forward urging the board on towards the catcher hoping they would manage it in one swoop. Alas, it was not to be as the queen jumped into the air up at them, let out a roar before massive wings sprouted from her back smacking Danny and Valerie off the board, the electromagnetic functions in the huntresses suit doing nothing against the force of that hit. 

They plummet downwards and Phantom tries to call out to the board but it doesn’t come for him. “Valerie fly!” He tries desperately, staring down to the fastly approaching ground. “Will yourself to fly!” 

Valerie gasped out herself grunting as Danny flailed her body about before managing to cling to her. “I’m trying!” She shoots back angrily. She lets out a whine and closes her eyes in concentration before the glow around the ghostly body flares and they level out and tip upwards, earning a whoop of delight from Phantom. 

“Head for the Catcher!” Phantom tells her.

“Again I’m trying you ectoplasmic pice of-”

Whatever she was going to say was cut off as they, by some miracle, had managed to head straight through the catcher. The pairs’ screams mix together and they end up on a heap on the other side with Jazz blinking down at them. “Did it work?” The ginger teen asked.

“Ow... Jazz?” Danny grumbled out. He raised a hand to his head to rub at his forehead and gave a pained whooped when he was able to see the glowing glove at the end of his limb. He offers a half hearted smile up to his sister before glaring at the queen who was being distracted by Sam and Tucker from wherever they had found cover in the nearby broken buildings.  

“I got better at aiming I guess?” Jazz offered to give a hand to help up her half ghost brother. “I moved the Catcher to um, Catch you. I’m glad you didn’t smash into the metal siding, that would have hurt…” 

“Thanks, Jazz I owe ya one,” Phantom says with a nod. “Get anyone who’s not protected out of here!” And with that Phantom flew off to attack the Queen ant.

Valerie was quick to pick herself back up and tar off after Phantom. “This is a temporary truce I hope you know!” She calls as she catches her board and flies off after the ghost, though even as she said it lacked her usual vitreal. 

Thankfully once they were back in their own skin they made short work of the queen ant ghost, and even managed to not cause too much more property damage. 

As Danny caps the thermos, he side eyes the Red huntress next to him in the air and offers the teen a hesitant hand. “I’m not gonna ask you to forgive me again but… maybe hesitant colleagues?”

Red eyed the ghost before her, his hesitant but hopeful smile that didn’t quite hide the worry and fear behind his eyes struck her more than anything. She used to think he was simply good at mimicking emotions but now… having felt them being him, herself? Well… she supposed the saying is true that you really can’t understand someone until you walk a mile in their shoes. His emotions felt real, on both sides she could taste the ones he was putting through her body, She felt pain when she was slapped by him… And she was finally able to see him as just another teen that was in over his head…. Dog ruining her life or not, though looking back on it now she had to admit it was something she was thankful for in a way.

She would see Paulina and her A list brainless wonders and know she used to be one of them. Caring too much about the wrong things and ruled by money in a way… Now? She knew she had to work to get anywhere, people liked her for her, not just her status and well… She had a purpose she could be proud of now.

“Yeah, Colleagues sounds like a good start… But step even a toe outta line and I will smear your ectoplasmic innards all over town.” Valerie threatened though she was teasing Phantom still grimaced as she grasped his hand. “Eh, I think I’ll take that…” he replied somewhat nervously.

“Good. Also… Maybe since you have one, I should give you my cell number… Case you ever need more than just some inventions as a backup.” 

Phantom visibly brightened at that his glow got brighter and he grinned. “Yeah, that’d be perfect actually! Maybe we can trade off patrol routes and stuff too? Give each other a night off once in a while? I know you work so… ya know…?” 

Valerie snorted but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She looks around before pulling a random piece of paper from off of the ground and using some piece of charcoal from who knows what that exploded she managed to scribble down her number. 

Phantom bit his tongue as he almost told her he had her number already, or that if he needed it he could easily get it with Tucker’s help but that wouldn’t do him any good now. He made it this far without blowing his secret, he wasn’t about to blow it on something stupid like this! 

Though it did make him wonder why Valerie hadn’t changed back to Fanton at all accidentally. He sure as hell did constantly when he first started out, it was a nightmare and resulted in far more detentions than he would have liked… Well, maybe she just didn’t think it was a possibility? He didn’t want to think too hard on that right now honestly, it brought with it too many questions. 

He took the paper from the huntress when she offered it and nodded to her in thanks. “See ya around ghost brat.” She said, almost endearingly before speeding off, no doubt to sleep. 

Phantom watches her go a moment before heading off on his own way back towards where his friends were waiting for him. Oh they had angry looks didn’t they, fun… 

He had a hell of an experience to tell, and some things he wanted to get advice on… he hated being the embodiment of an existential crisis all the time, but hey, at least it was interesting right? 

He just hoped Val keeps her new attitude. He’d rather work with her than have to dodge her blasts all the time after all…. And a few nights off here and there sounded wonderful.

Only time will tell, he supposed. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.- Complete

Total word count: 8875

[superman86to99]

Adventures of Superman #506 (November 1993)

Superman vs. Superboy! I mean, vs. Superman, since the Kid still insists that Superboy is definitely NOT his name and never will be. The two Supermen meet while the younger, radder one is dealing with some sort of deformed flying babies that are trying to kill him, which is the sort of thing that happens to you when you wear an “S” emblem on your chest.

These turn out to be deformed flying babies THAT EXPLODE, but the Kid is able to push them away with his (very non-Superman-esque) telekinesis powers. He then deduces that these things must have come out of Project Cadmus, the top secret genetic experimentation facility that created him, and brushes off the elder Superman to get back at those geeks by doing what he does best: being a brat on live TV.

So I guess the “top secret” part of Cadmus’ description is no longer accurate, thanks to the Kid. On the other hand, I kinda feel like the people of Metropolis deserved to know that there's a nearby government facility churning out genetic atrocities into their sewers.

The Cadmus gang sends Guardian to bring their wayward creation home so they can talk to him. Obviously the Kid isn't very interested, and for a while it looks like we might get the fight scene teased in the cover, but then Superman the First convinces Superman the Second that he should at least hear them out. And, while at it, ask Cadmus to tell him exactly what the hell he is. If he’s Superman’s clone, why does he have those weird TK powers? The Kid agrees, but... he doesn't like the answers he gets.

The Kid finds out that he's NOT a clone of Superman since, as established a while back, Kryptonians are damn hard to clone. So, since Cadmus was determined to create a new Superman after the original appeared to be dead, they instead took a clone of a regular, non-super man and genetically modified it to approximate Superman's powers (for instance, translating Superman’s “aura” into a telekinetic field). But who was that human DNA donor? Surely it was someone good and cool!

Just after the Kid wonders that, the quite evil and deeply uncool Director Westfield bursts into the lab and demands that this "super-punk" be taken into custody, probably so they can flush him down the toilet like Cadmus' other failed experiments. Superman makes Westfield see that making Cadmus' whistleblower disappear wouldn't look very good right now, but they can't just let him run around unsupervised. So, at Guardian's recommendation, the esteemed telepath Dubbilex is assigned to follow the Kid wherever he goes. I smell a sitcom! (Or a spin-off comic.)

As a last order of business, the Kid decides to give Superman his trademark to the Superman name, which his manager Rex Leech doesn't take too well. So what are they gonna call this teenage “S” emblem-wearing hero now? Superman has an interesting suggestion: SUPERBOY. Our young friend still isn't a fan.

But after storming out and thinking about it for a couple of pages (and trying out the name on some guys robbing a jewelry shop), the Kid realizes he's "earned" the title of Superboy and accepts it. Character development! And just in time for his solo series. ("That Non-Superman Clone Who Also Calls Himself Superman" wouldn't look good on a cover.)

Plotline-Watch:

The final page shows a shadowy figure shaped like the recently introduced Bloodthirst outfitting someone with a weapon-teleporting gizmo, then calling him "Bloodsport"... except that this dude is quite paler than the Bloodsport we met way back in Superman #4 (in an issue inked by current writer Karl Kesel, so you'd think he'd remember the character). This looks nothing like Idris Elba! What gives?!

Superboy is still bummed out because his friend Tana Moon left Metropolis without telling him where she was going, which is now known as "ghosting". In the end, Rex talks about sending Superboy on a promotional tour to establish his new brand, and the first destination of that tour will be... exactly where Tana went to hide from Superboy. This is now known as "time to get a restraining order."

Clark Kent is slowly morphing into a hipster the longer he rooms with Jimmy Olsen. For a long time I assumed all the bands listed in the panel below were made up, but turns out the only non-existing ones are “James Rock” and "Axel Rose". Luckily, Superboy was happy to give Clark's old apartment back to him (apparently only Pulitzer-winning journalists can afford it), so Jimmy won't hipsterize him for much longer.

Westfield gladly assigns Dubbilex to Superboy because it means there won't be a telepath at Cadmus to read his thoughts and find out about his evil plans (like sending the ugly flying babies after Superboy). Very clever, Westfield! Except for the fact that he thought that right in front of Dubbilex, who clearly "heard" the whole thing.

Incidentally, there's an apparent error in this issue when Superboy thinks "They won't take me without a fight!" and Guardian shows up and says "That's too bad, son. Because I don't want to fight you." How did Guardian know what Superboy was thinking? Obviously, Dubbilex patched Guardian through to Superboy's mind to assist in finding him. Now where's my damn Baldy Award?!

Is it me or is this page reminiscent of the cover to Superboy Prime's first appearance during Crisis on Infinite Earths?

Patreon-Watch:

Special thanks to your Patreon pals Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, and Samuel Doran, and welcome aboard to Bheki Latha (our first $6.50 patron ever!), Mark Syp, and Ryan Bush! You are all excellent. This month they got to read a long-ass post entitled 45 Things I Learned by Reading the “Death of Superman” Novel (Part 1), in which I talked about the stuff Roger Stern added to the canon in the first part of the Death and Life of Superman book. This includes Superman’s private thoughts on the JLI (and Guy Gardner in particular), what Lex Jr. calls Supergirl in bed, and Professor Hamilton getting romantic. Find out more at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99

But now: the Don Sparrow show! Take it away, Don.

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow​):

The end of an era, at least temporarily, as Tom Grummett draws his last Adventures of Superman issue, moving onto Superboy (and I think still doing Robin at this time?) with Karl Kesel.  He’ll return for the quarterly Superman: Man of Tomorrow and other things, but it’s a long gap until he does.

A pretty good cover, with Superman and Superboy about to tussle.   Though it can be seen as cheaping out on the backgrounds, I always love radial rays as an effect.  

Inside the issue, we have a great splash page of Superboy getting attacked by botched clones, and I love the gesture here—having his head snapping away from the camera adds to the motion and action.  Great stuff. 

Though he won’t be drawing her again for a while, Grummett excels at the new, shorter-haired Lois in these pages.  Superman soaring to the skies is a great panel as well, and I especially like the way his cape and fist slightly break the panel barrier, giving it a sense of motion, again.

The sequence of Guardian acrobatically flipping from one ledge to another is very well drawn.  Ditto the splash on page 13, where Superboy loses his temper.  The body language in this whole sequence tells the story very well, as Superman is calm and patient, confident in his ability not only to reach Superboy with his words, but also withstand him physically.  

The way Superboy snaps the carpet, but controls it mentally with his Tactile Telekinesis is a great example of his unique powers in use.  It reminds me of a technique they tried on the CW Supergirl show (but almost immediately abandoned) where they made like the Kryptonian fabric of their capes was like “smart fabric” and could be used as a weapon.  

Lastly, the dreamy, child-like expression on Superboy’s face during the Peter Pan exchange is wonderful, and a fitting end for Tom’s run on the book. [Max: You mean the William Shatner exchange, Don.]

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

I almost never like it when they reference pop culture stuff in Superman comics, particularly music.  Karl Kesel isn’t the worst offender in that department (that would be JM DeMatties a few years down the line, who had Clark Kent bizarrely asserting he loved the Beastie Boys) but Clark’s discussion with Jimmy about an apparently fictional musician working with a rolodex of early nineties names makes me cringe (as does trying to imagine how awful a “Hip Hop Lyle Lovett” or “Grunge Frank Sinatra” would sound).

The car poster on the wall of Jimmy’s bachelor pad looks for all the world like Robin’s Redbird, also a Tom Grummett creation.  (Fun fact:  Tom once told me he still gets {very small} royalty cheques from the Batman & Robin movie, because Robin’s motorcycle was called the Redbird, though that might no longer be true with Paul Levitz no longer in charge of such matters.)

Superboy (in no less than his third time calling those pink creatures “spuds”) references John Candy and Joe Flaherty’s “Farm Film Celebrity Blow Up” where the guests would frequently “blow up real good” and it does my SCTV loving Canadian heart good.  

It’s interesting (and a little sad) that they again note that Superboy knows things (pop culture, etc) without ever having experienced it.  I feel like there’s a lot they could do with this concept.

This issue reads very much like the end of the Superboy “Reign” issues, as Superman is more of a secondary character to the kid.  All of it begs the question of why Superman, or Guardian put up with Cadmus.  Superman has said in previous issues that he has moral problems with how Cadmus treats life with their cloning experiments, and they’ve attacked him in the past (and also stole his corpse!) so other than the fact that it’s a launchpad for Superboy’s series, there’s really no reason any of these heroes should associate with Cadmus.  Especially Guardian, who comes off as little more than an errand boy here.  He wants to bring Superboy in, but won’t promise Superboy won’t be harmed or imprisoned?  

Nice to see Superboy return to his “Slammin’” catch phrase!

An interesting bit of foreshadowing when Superboy asks Big Words whose clone he is, and who immediately enters but Westfield. [Max: That’s right, Westfield! Not Luthor! Sorry, sorry.]

[huihuiheart]

Goretober D6: Cursed -Treasure Hunter! Felix

Warnings: Tombs, curses, booby traps, skeletons, mentions of blood.

Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count:1,545 

With the reputation he’d build for himself Felix had been fought after to search for nearly every kind of treasure people could imagine possible. What he was being asked to do by you though was a first. You needed him to find a whole city just to get what you were looking for, that is....if it was even there anymore.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to take you to the city of Moria? The very same Moria that has been lost for the past 600 years?” Felix inquires raising a brow in disbelief.

“Yep, that’s the one! I tracked an ancestor all the way back to a merchant who favored Moria for trade. I’ve checked for his items in any other cities and routes he may have been in. So my deal is you take me there and back and you can have anything else you find in Moria, all I want is his stuff. That’s it.” You explain yet again, not that you can really blame Felix. There was a reason you’d come to the best treasure hunter there was, finding the city of Moria was by no means an easy task. 

“And what exactly was it that belonged to him?” Felix asks another thing, only now he’s moving to stand and head towards the wall of books filled with maps and information.

“Mostly journals of his travels and other such papers. A few pieces of jewelry that are family heirlooms, but nothing substantial in that regard. I’m more looking for personal reasons and for the sake of research. I’ll pay very little mind to the treasure.” You assure him watching as he pulls a few books from the shelves.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that from an archaeologist.” Felix mumbles not fully convinced, only you laugh a little.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m only an archaeology student then, hm?” You playfully counter and for the first time you actually see Felix smile.

“I guess so. At least you’re a smart enough student to know I’m the best at this.” Felix glances up from the books to smirk smugly at you.

“Only a fool would think otherwise.” You stroke his ego while placing some things before him, the clues you’d collected on how to find Moria.

“And what exactly is all of this?”  Felix questions looking at you unimpressed.

“Information I’ve gathered about the location. Some of it is from asking around. Most of it is from stuff salvaged from where my ancestor had been in the past. We found a few journal pages from before he disappeared. Including one saying how many days it would be until he arrived at Moria if he left the city of Cin and headed Northeast.” You inform him turning to that page and at least for the moment impressing Felix a bit.

“You really did your research hm?” Felix hums in acknowledgment that you did actually have some useful information to offer.

“I tried, I didn’t want to come entirely empty handed after all.” You agree and Felix nods collecting the stuff.

“We should go, if we hurry we might be able to catch a flight to that general area now. We can look over everything on the flight and when we find a spot to set up base.” Felix leaves no room for discussion as he grabs his gear and research material and rushes out to head towards the  airport. Chasing after you try to keep up, journeying to the nearest modern city to where Cin had been located to follow in the footsteps of your ancestor. Felix paying little mind to you as he focuses on what information he can gather on the flight, letting you trail on the way to a spot where he knew you both could settle in for the night. 

“So tomorrow we’ll head to where the remains of Cin are, look for more clues there before heading on our way. We’ll head Northeast from there, I’ve narrowed it down to having to be in this radius already, but hopefully Cin will show us what we need to narrow that down. At most I’m hoping it’ll only take a week to find Moria’s location. So long as this radius is accurate.” Felix shares his findings pointing out the red circle he’s drawn over the map.

“Excellent, if it helps I can read some ancient Esian. Not to say I could perfectly interpret any clues we find on our way, but it’s better than nothing.” You offer and Felix simply nods.

“Get some rest, we have a long week ahead.” 

____

Felix certainly knew what he was talking about, but it all seemed with it when you finally laid eyes on the ruins. You fatigue lifting as you practically floated into the vine covered ghost town. Finding a sign engraved near the entrance of the city.

“This is it Felix! This is Moria! I’m going to search for where my ancestor would have been, feel free to search for whatever treasure you want.” You break off from his side to bound off in search of the journals you wanted. Felix locked in on something else. The towering central building of the city, whether it was a palace or a temple he wasn’t yet sure, but he was almost certain that would be the majority of any ancient treasure would be stored. Glancing in the direction you bounded off, he noticed you fixed intently on reading ancient texts and exploring to examine the ancient civilization in an entirely different light than he did. 

Climbing up to the top he examined the area, pulling out the basic Esian dictionary you’d put together for him to try and read what was written on the wall. Telling of traps stored below to prevent all from entering, yet Felix found no description of what it held, at least not that he understood. Only of the impending doom that would befall all who entered. Noticing you below he called down.

“Y/N! Can you come help me translate this text?” Felix words beckoned you up to join him. Silently following the text along the walls to get an idea of what it was talking about.

“Well? What is it?” Felix expectantly asks when you don’t open your mouth.

“I’m not entirely sure. I can tell you what I can read though.” You nod, finger showing a path along the words as you read, “ ‘To whomever shall come across this place, the tower of all great kings, be warned. This place shall only be opened with the blood of our past king when he has been called to join the gods above. Any who enter without this offering and approval from the gods themselves shall certainly be sacrificed this day.’ ...then it goes into some description that I can’t quite understand. Something about the procedure for the priests I think, how they should appease the gods if someone does break in. I can’t be sure though.” Your brows are furrowed as you try to decipher the next text.

“Anything on how to safely enter? Or am I winging it?” Felix questions already pulling rope from his pack.

“No, I don’t think that anyone really did that.” You chuckle a little watching him tie the rope around his waist and then a nearby pillar.

“Well I’ll hope it’s a pit like most and not a collapsing area then. You should probably head down and a safe distance away just in case though.” Felix suggests kneeling to examine the patterns on the floor. Giving you time to safely return to your exploring down below before messing with anything. Pulling some water from his pack he pours it to fill the little moat in the floor instead of blood to see if it reveals anything. Watching how it seeped below and showed the spot he could wedge something other to lift the round stone leaving to below. Flashing his flashlight below what he found wasn’t entirely what he was looking for. What he assumed were the bones of their past kings adorned with gold, more gold and jeweled items buried down there with them. Scaling down into it he examined everything before moving to bring up one of the skeleton's adorned the best along with any other valuable items he could hold on that trip. So focused on the items when he reaches the top that he doesn’t notice the curse taking effect at first. Not until he looks to see what the king was wearing once again only to find the skeleton standing before him, more climbing from the pit that he realizes what is happening. Scampering back, he’s quick to until his waist and grab his pack, shoving the crown and necklaces in his hand into the pack, before bolting before more than one skeleton can be in pursuit of him.

“Y/N! WE HAVE TO GO NOW! THE CURSE!” Felix screams by now at least five skeletons following him down, a few bearing elaborate swords. 

Your eyes widen as you turn to meet the sight before you shoving your ancestors items into your bag, so go, “ FELIX HURRY!” 

You two rushed off, hoping that they wouldn’t follow you too far out of the ruins.

[hystericalrogertaylor]

A Royal Mess

Pairing: Prince!Ben Hardy X Princess!Reader

Word Count: 2519

Prompt: “I can’t walk away from something that wasn’t supposed to end!”

Warnings: Angst? That should be it

A/N: Heyyyy! This is for @bensroger ’s writing challenge! And we’re going to pretend it’s completely historically accurate! I tried to make the location of reader’s kingdom as obscure as possible so anyone can read it. Enjoy!

My master list is in my profile description!

(I’d add a “read more” line, but I’m publishing this on my phone. Sorry! Also, I apologize if the spacing looks a little funny.)

~~~

You met Ben at the 1889 World’s Fair in Paris, France. Many monarchs had come from all over the world, and you, the princess and heir to the throne in your country, were chosen to represent your small nation. Your father had decided it wasn’t his cup of tea since the event in New York wasn’t as exciting as he would have liked, but he wanted someone there to represent him. And that was you, his only child.

Ben was there because his parents, the king and queen of a different small nation, had dragged him along. He found these things unspeakably boring; he enjoyed bossing people around and hanging out with his rich friends, who were the children of his father’s friends. These fairly fancy events were not his scene.

You met when he, quite literally, ran into you. He was clowning around with another prince who was forced to come, throwing a ball back and forth in a desperate attempt to relieve boredom. The other prince, his name was Rami, accidentally threw the ball over Ben’s head. Ben turned around to run after it, not noticing you standing a few feet behind him. He slammed into you, and the ball went bouncing down the aisle, never to be seen again.

“Sorry!” Ben almost had to shout over the volume in the room. “Sorry, I didn’t mean--” He stopped mid-sentence, finally able to look his victim in the face. She was gorgeous. For the first time in his life, Prince Benjamin had no idea what to say.

You brushed off your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. It was a floor-length, draped dress made of soft, baby blue fabric. You were royalty, but you didn’t want to attract attention. “It’s quite all right,” you said. “No harm done.”

Ben was blushing, he was so embarrassed. He knew he should’ve been watching where he was going, but instead he had to smash right into the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

You blinked. “Are you all right? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ben shook his head violently. “Yes! I-I’m great! Just, uh, enjoying my time in Germany!”

Rami appeared over his shoulder. “We’re not in Germany,” he whispered.

“France!” Ben corrected himself loudly. “France. We’re not in Germany, I knew that.”

You giggled. “And where might you be from?”

Ben stuttered again, trying to form coherent words. “Um, j-just a little nation, you’ve probably never heard of it. A-And you?”

“Similar circumstances.” You turned to the machine next to you, gazing at it. “Isn’t it fascinating?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, it looks really...neat.” He shifted uncomfortably. “That’s why I’m here, to look at interesting machines.”

“You told me--” Ben slapped a hand over Rami’s mouth, shooting a death glare his way. Rami backed up, disappearing behind some large machine.

Ben gave you a cheesy smile, recovering a little bit of his confidence. “So, how about we find something to eat? Just the two of us?”

You returned his smile. “I’d love that.”

---

The two of you were able to find a cute little cafe away from the exhibits of the World’s Fair. You were able to sit outside, eating little sandwiches and chatting. You were an expert in body language, and from watching Ben, you were able to tell he fancied you. What you were unintentionally neglecting was you own body, showing the same signs he was. You found Ben quite attractive, but your logical side was trying to ignore those feelings. Your emotional side really, really wanted to kiss him.

“I’m heir to the throne, but I don’t think I’m mature enough for the crown,” Ben admitted. “I’ve been trained all my life for the day I’ll finally be king, but it seems like a dream, not something I’ll actually have to deal with someday.”

“I as well.” You took a sip of the tea you had. “Queen is a hefty title, and I’m not sure I can live up to all my father’s done.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful ruler.” Ben smiled at you, his eyes showing a kindness you’d never known from anyone else.

You smiled down at your plate of half-eaten sandwiches. “I’m sure you’ll be an even more magnificent king.”

“Thank you.” Ben took a sip of his tea, a large smile plastered across his face. You were easier to talk to than any of the people back in his kingdom.

You set down your teacup, standing up and smoothing out your dress again. “Well, it’s getting dark. We could either go look at more exhibits, which I could tell you hated, or we could go look at the Eiffel Tower at night. Up close.”

Ben gulped. “Yeah, that sounds great.” He didn’t want to let on how much he hated that damn eye sore. His opinions ran along with those of the native French, while yours seemed to align with those of most of the other visitors.

You stood up, beckoning him in the direction of the tower. “Let’s go then, before it gets crowded.”

He rose from his chair, pushed it in, and followed you. He could see said tower in the distance, and it was only half lit. He felt bad for the poor saps who had to light each of the gas lamps.

It took the two of you long enough to walk to the Eiffel Tower that all the lamps were lit once you reached it. The tower glowed, almost sparkling in the dark of the evening. Ben was actually awe-struck; he couldn’t think anything could be done to the wrought-iron structure to make it actually viewable. Several other attendees of the World’s Fair were milling around, looking up at the tower, some even kissing. Ben thought it strange that some people would be willing to kiss in public like that. Oh well, he thought. This is a different country, after all.

You slowly meandered until you stood directly under the tower. You both craned your necks to look upward. It was a different kind of stunning from this angle.

“An architectural wonder,” you whispered, completely in awe. Ben looked over at you, impressed by the superior intellect you’d shown throughout the day. He could safely say that he’d never met someone like you, and it was amazing.

You looked at him, stepping closer. “What are you thinking about?” you asked quietly.

Ben hesitated. “I don’t know, I would just really like to kiss you.”

You cocked your head. “And what’s stopping you?”

“We’re in public…” Ben said slowly. “It would be awkward.”

You pressed your body against his, grabbing the collar of his crisp dress shirt. “Well, I think I’d rather like to kiss you, Benjamin.” You ran a finger lightly across his jaw. You lowered your voice even more. “And I don’t give two damns who’s watching.”

Ben’s hands grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer as he slammed his lips into yours. You angled your head, kissing him passionately. Neither of you had ever kissed someone before, and doing so in public, without any promise of courtship or marriage, was extremely scandalous. You could hear the gasps of a few people walking by, watching two members of different royal families locking lips under the Eiffel Tower. It was a sight to behold, but you two only cared about each other.

You both pulled apart what felt like hours later. Ben’s lips were swollen, and you could feel that yours were too as you smirked in satisfaction. Ben, frankly, looked shocked. He’d just kissed a girl? In public? On the day he’d met her?

“Why did we do that?” he asked.

You shrugged. “On ne vit qu’une fois.”

Ben’s fingers lightly touched your face. “Can we do that again?” he whispered.

“I don’t see why not.” You tilted your head back up into his.

---

You and Ben spent as much time together as you could. You tried not to kiss again, but it was difficult when there was blatant physical chemistry. You loved Ben’s cocky yet kind attitude, and he loved how confident you were in your own skin. And, somewhere along the line, you had both attached onto false hope that maybe this could all work out. Two heirs to two separate thrones could court and marry each other. The only two who didn’t see the logic were you and Ben.

On the final day of the World’s Fair, you parted ways. Ben kissed the back of your hand, and you boarded your respective ships. You stood on the deck of the ship, head in your hands, watching Ben’s ship disappear until you could see it no longer.

As soon as you arrived back in your country, you sat down in your chamber and wrote Ben a letter. Despite being many miles apart, you were still interested in keeping in touch with him. Once you’d stuffed the finished letter in an envelope and sealed it, you handed it to your maid, who knew what to do with it. You lay down in your bed with a book, trying to ignore your loneliness.

Ben had done the same thing. He’d written you a quick, sweet letter, and had sent it on its way. He sat out in the palace garden, tapping his foot and staring at some flowers that reminded him of you. Your time together had been short, but he was enamored by you. He was determined to meet you again and see what grew from the little soil that was there.

---

“You what?” you exclaimed, staring at your father, the king, in disbelief.

“Darling, he’s perfect for you. You can rule as queen, he’ll be your prince consort, and it will bring the two kingdoms together for better trade and economics.” He had just told you about a prince from a different kingdom who you were to be married to. You had met him when you were a child, and you two had completely despised each other.

“No!” you shouted. “I won’t do it!”

You father rose from the chair he was in. He stood at least a foot and a half over you, which he’d never used to intimidate you until now. “Young lady, this is not a matter you have a say in. You couldn’t possibly know all of what is necessary to rule a country. No one marries for love, they marry for bloodlines and money.”

You sputtered; everything you thought you’d known about your parents crumbled in that very moment. “But...you love my mother, don’t you?”

“Only because I’ve been forced to spend every day of the past twenty five years with her.” He sighed as he noticed some tears fall down your face. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. But this is what’s going to be best for the country that you’ll eventually have to rule.”

“You’re mad.” You slowly backed up towards the door. “This whole system is mad.”

“Your emotions will get in the way of you being a good queen!” your father exclaimed. “You cannot rule with your heart!”

You slammed the door, dashing down the hall to God knows where.

---

You wrote a letter to Ben, explaining the situation. Through these letters, over the course of several months, you and Ben had fallen in love, though you were unable to communicate in person. You knew you’d have to try to forget about him, but you didn’t want to desert him without any explanation.

Ben read your most recent letter, a smile plastered across his face. Your writings were one of the very few things he looked forward to. However, the smile quickly fell when he realized what you were talking about. An arranged marriage. To someone that wasn’t him.

He knew he didn’t want to lose you, not in this way. He immediately hopped on a ship, despite his parents’ attempts to stop him, and sailed to your nation. His ship got into one of your harbors, and there was visible confusion; no one was expecting him. He ran down the ramp, heading straight for the castle. He was as tired as he’d ever been, due to the lack of sleep on the ship, but he tried to ignore it. He needed to talk to you.

He reached the gates, grabbing onto the bars and searching the courtyard. The only people milling around there were gardeners. “Hello!” he shouted. “I need to speak to Princess (Y/n)!”

One older gardener looked up, cocking an eyebrow. “Young man,” he began, “you can’t just run up here and expect for us to let you in so you can speak to our heir. Go home.”

“I’m Prince Benjamin!” Ben exclaimed. “She knows me! You can ask her!”

A different gardener eyed him suspiciously before heading into the castle. He returned a few minutes later, sending a thumbs up to Ben. The prince sighed, letting one of his hands fall from the bars of the gate.

A while later, he saw you sprinting towards him from the castle. Your dress dragged in the grass, no doubt leaving stains. But you couldn’t care less. Ben was here, and you couldn’t have been more happy and sad at the same time.

You flung open the gate, falling directly into his arms. Both of you were sweaty, neither of you looked very royal, but both of you only wanted to pay attention to the person in front of you.

“Why are you here?” you mumbled into his chest.

“I read your letter.” He held you tighter. “I didn’t want to believe it was true. I hoped I could come here and stop it.”

You suddenly remembered your resolve. You pushed him away, wiping a tear away. “Ben, we can’t. There’s no way to stop it. We can’t--”

“I can talk to your father!” Ben seemed very passionate about keeping you, and it was breaking your heart. “I can convince him that we’d be better together!”

“Ben, no.”

“Why not?” He was almost shouting in desperation. “Please! Just let me try!”

You sniffled. “Ben, you have to leave me.”

“I can’t walk away from something that wasn’t supposed to end!” He fell down to his knees, clasping his hands in a begging fashion. “It can work, just please let me talk to your father.”

You shook your head. “I can’t. As much as I’d love to marry you, we can’t. It’s not realistic.”

“Nothing about us is realistic.” He stood back up, holding your hands in his. “We met in Paris, kissed after just meeting, and were then violently pulled apart. We can survive.”

You wrenched away from him, turning your back. You went back through the gate, closing it on him. “Goodbye, Benjamin.” You turned, ignoring his voice as you went back to your castle to continue planning for you wedding.

Ben stumbled back to his ship, completely in a trance. The only woman who he’d ever loved was being ripped away from him, forever this time. He boarded his ship, it left the harbor, and it never went back to Ben’s home kingdom. Nul ne sait ce qui lui est arrivé.

[femchef]

Suffer Bitch Ficlist

What This List Is: A collection of fics that I’ve read that absolutely fuck me up emotionally, and that I appreciated/loved/needed/have impacted me enough that I’ve saved them for re-reading. If these were paperbacks, the pages would have started falling out long before now.

That said, everything on this list has an emotional resolution (even the few incomplete ones I’ve chosen to include). Nothing on this list is the kind of emotional devastation that leaves the reader feeling empty and used* because honestly I need resolution, and I hate the type of #realism that makes me go “Well what was the fucking point, then”. This list is not comprehensive; if you’re in these fandoms, you’ve likely brushed up against them before. The majority of these authors are well-known, and some of these fics have been around longer than I’d like to be reminded. 

So - what qualifies a fic for this list, anyway? 

Tears and snotty sobbing. Everything on this list has made me cry and also given me emotional chills to some degree in order to make the cut.**

Before You Read: Take any warnings I list below seriously. If it’s something that will fuck you up in a bad way, then don’t read it. Don’t open the link. We all have things that are no-go’s. Full disclosure? I can’t read anything with graphic depictions of sexual assault, though mentions, allusions to, or mild/non-graphic depictions (ex. fade to black scenarios, fuzzy memory recall, etc.) don’t bother me. I take those tags and author’s notes seriously when I’m choosing what to read. Similarly, I’m pretty blasé about a lot of gore or body horror - except, specifically, when someone is rolling around in a pit of used needles (thanks for that, Saw movies). Guess what I avoid reading? In short: be a responsible reader. Don’t be self-destructive and proceed with however much caution you require.

*a life of smoke and silvered glass is an outlier and should not be counted.

**As a baseline, please keep in mind that the first time I read JRRT’s The Two Towers, I threw my book across the room when I got to the end. Also, the scene in Whale Rider where Paikea is on stage is the one time I started gross-sobbing in a movie theatre. Make of that what you will.

On to the list!

Suffer Bitch Ficlist:

(Presented to you in order of least impactful to most)

Invitation/Complication

It’s Green

Skin Deep

a life of smoke and silvered glass

Practicing Liars

Family Night

A Wicked Game

A Piercing Comfort

Loud and Clear

Humans and Ghosts

Digging for the Bones

Chivalry 

In Care Of

A Year Like None Other

Stay

Under Wing

Distorting Equivalency 

I’m Not Broken (I Can’t Be)

[The following are in no particular order because I couldn’t decide]

19. Sacrifices Arc

20. Phantom of Truth/Shadow of a Doubt

21. Like One Sundered Star

1. Invitation/Complication Series [Homestuck]

By saffronHeliotrope

You don’t need reminding that everyone is pairing off while you have village-bicycled your way through this group of morons as if you’d never run out of time.

It occurs to you that maybe you need new friends.

Word Count: 8,033

Status: Complete

This series contains two works, one taking place immediately after the other. Have fun angsting with Dave because he can’t seem to wrap his mind around this whole ot3 thing with John and Rose (on their wedding night, ofc). Consenting (if slightly dumb) adults and polyamory all around. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/132165

2. It’s Green [Harry Potter]

By Doodled93

Harry grows up working on his Aunt’s Garden and develops a love for it, meeting Samuel and eventually Max, who gives him a Mark of his own. This Mark is changing him, making him more different than he already was, and he loves it. 

Word Count: 88,549

Status: WiP

This is marvelous kidfic - lots of good fluff. Except. You know - that one OC death that was so heart wrenching that you start bawling. The concept of magical tattoos in this fic is really nice, and Max - a prickly, rough and gruff tattoo artist is the best kind of unintentional parental mentor. The author hasn’t updated in some time, but they’ve also made a note that they’ll come back eventually when they’re ready to update to completion. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411709/chapters/683216

3. Skin Deep [Fullmetal Alchemist]

By Batsutousai 

Trisha and Van’s first child, Edith, was born a beautiful, healthy girl. The only problem? Ed knew he was a boy.

Word Count: 17,083

Status: Complete 

As you may have guessed from the description, this is a mostly canon AU featuring a trans Edward Elric. I love it, I appreciate how it was written, especially that it’s not a romantic plot - and not only was I crying after the first read, but rereads still give me the sniffles.

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8197400/chapters/18779738

4. a life of smoke and silvered glass [Harry Potter]

By dirgewithoutmusic

Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet, smiling at them in that way of his, like he knew something you didn’t and he was proud of you for it. “Friends,” he began. 

The door thudded open and the Marauders burst in, late and pink-cheeked with cold. The headmaster smiled at them, too, and Sirius gave a cheery little salute back.

Severus sunk lower in his chair, staring witheringly over his butterbeer. “You told Potter about it, too?” 

“He might as well put all that energy to good use,” said Lily. “And to be accurate, I told Remus.” 

“But Potter, really?” said Severus.

“He and Black cooked up a jinx that gives you a boil every time you say a slur to a Muggleborn,” said Lily. “It was either invite them to Alice’s war club or bake them cookies, and I know where my skills lie.” 

Severus sniffed. “Don’t come crying to me if he tugs your pigtails.” 

“Come crying to me if he pulls yours, and I’ll deck him.” said Lily.

(Slight AU in which Severus apologizes, tries harder, and stays friends with Lily.)

Word Count: 22,794

Status: Complete

This is the Severus Snape that canon wanted. The greatest tragedy that never has to explicitly be spelled out (and the reason this fic is so heartbreaking and infuriating) is that the end results are the same.

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457669

5. Practicing Liars [Harry Potter]

By Lomonaaeren

AU of HBP. Harry found out that he was Snape’s son two years ago, and he’s carefully concealed it. But now Snape is his Defense teacher, and Draco Malfoy is up to something, and Dumbledore is dying, and the final battle is coming up, and everything is getting very, very complicated. 

Word Count: 206,306

Status: Complete

Oh boy, bring on the angst. A Severitus fic with a lot of bitter, petty feelings. Half Blood Prince is such a popular point in HP canon to veer off into AU territory (for good reason), and just - the timing, the missed opportunities, the growth. Lots of feelings. Also drarry. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990947/chapters/1955931

6. Family Night [Harry Potter]

By Celebony

As Hogwarts starts a quarterly Family Night, Harry is determined to take part. Facing the heartache of looking in all the wrong places, he’ll have to discover the true meaning of family, and that sometimes it comes from where you least expect it. 

Word Count: 33,000

Status: Complete

Eventual Severitus fic. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional abuse, anxiety, self-destructive behavior, angst, grief, and (eventually) healing and recovery - this fic has it all. To me, I think this is the author’s best work, but obviously I have a preference. Fans of Remus tread carefully, this story may not be for you. 

Read here: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/2682144/1/Family-Night

7. A Wicked Game Series [Fullmetal Alchemist]

By Tierfal

Roy has lucked into the all-expenses-paid vacation of his dreams - all he has to do is convince a bunch of happy couples that he’s head-over-heels in love with Ed Elric. What could possibly go wrong? 

[Modern!AU].

Word Count: 64,884

Status: Story is Complete, but Series is still open for possible future oneshots/additions 

Currently three completed works in the series. Roy and Ed as struggling grad students who share lab space stuck in a cabin full of obnoxious couples. This story resonates so well for me, because it was the first time I read something where a character actively struggles with depression where I really felt like someone GOT IT. So, be warned - suicide mentions, depression, angst, and a lot of puns. Safe Roy/Ed, though if that’s not your jam, better take a miss. 

 Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/372113

8. A Piercing Comfort [Harry Potter]

By talithan

When Harry Potter hits the lowest point of his life so far, it is not his friends who keep him honest. With Draco Malfoy’s patience and guidance, Harry learns to stand on his own. The thing is, after the fact - he’s no longer sure he wants to. 

Word Count: 44,566

Status: Complete

This fic has art by onthecount! It’s lovely. Anyway - Oh my god. When I talk about things resonating on some, soul-deep level. The way depression, and trauma, and PTSD is handled is... Well. I don’t go back to this often, but it’s because (for me) reading this fic is cleansing. Draco and Luna as therapists running a burgeoning wizarding practice is pretty great. If you couldn’t guess by reading the summary, this is an eventual drarry fic - and I’ll be upfront, if the idea of dating your former therapists squicks you out, don’t read. I like how it’s written out, it doesn’t feel inappropriate, or like any sort of power imbalance to me, but I can see where that wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea either. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857495

9. Loud and Clear Series [Fullmetal Alchemist]

By Tierfal

The thing with Roy is founded on coffee snobbery and stupid text messages and seriously awesome makeout sessions in the car. Oh, and the love of a lifetime, or whatever.

Word Count: 280,924

Status: WiP

Currently there are six completed works, and one in-progress (with at least one more slated by the author). Also known as ‘The modern!AU Roy/Ed fluffball fic (of doom)’, there is emotional baggage/angst throughout that hints at darker things but nothing too dreadful until the fourth entry in the series, “Another One of Those Heartbreak Songs”. Anxiety, depression, war crimes, rape and consent (and, fyi, one of the best descriptions of what exactly enthusiastic consent IS, is in the current entry of the series, “The Boiling Point”) are all being dealt and felt in this story. Safe Roy/Ed fic that starts with a coffeehouse!AU style meetcute and follows the deepening relationship between Roy (established lawyer who works with veterans) and Ed (making the transition from struggling grad student to frazzled professor), and has a delightful dose of Al/Win tossed in. One of the most relatable things about this series is how all the terrible things about your worst relationships don’t really hit you until you’re smack in the middle of the best relationship you’ve ever had, and it’s ROUGH. Consider this your explicit warning: if mentions of rape/sexual abuse, or abusive ex’s set you off, don’t read.

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/167693

10. Humans and Ghosts [Danny Phantom]

By RedHeadsRock1010

If there was one thing Danny Fenton perfected since receiving his powers, it was how to pretend. 

Word Count: 26,751

Status: Complete

ANGST. Angst and neglectful parents. Angst and neglectful parents and two siblings doing the best they can. Jazz is a real MVP in this story. Also blood and gore. And torture. Oh my god. Still makes me cry. Consider this your explicit warning: if mentions of torture, or neglectful/abusive parenting set you off, don’t read. While it’s not a religious fic, the impact of the parenting codes like some of the horror stories you might have heard about being in the closet and growing up with religious parents. You have been warned. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12315771/chapters/27999459

11. Digging for the Bones [Harry Potter]

By Paganaidd

Rather than allowing Harry to stay at Diagon Alley after he blew up Aunt Marge, the ministry sends Harry back to the Dursley’s. Harry returns to school after a terrible summer, to find that he’s not the only one with this kind of secret. A student has been killed by his family. New screening measures are put into place by the Ministry: Every student must be given a medical exam and interview to look for child abuse. With Dumbledore facing an inquiry, Snape is entrusted with the task of making sure EVERYONE receives one. 

Word Count: 203,178

Status: Complete 

As the author warns before the fic, there is a character death in the first chapter. The story is an AU of Prisoner of Azkaban. Suicide, attempted suicide, and suicidal ideation are a big part of the story. Child abuse, death by child abuse (and the aftermath), ptsd, and the appalling effects of dementors on a castle full of kids are pretty central to the plot. Eventual Severitus. Also accidental necromancy. This is a monumental hurt/comfort fic and there are a LOT of feelings. And angst. Consider this your warning: if explicit attempted suicide, or suicidal thoughts set you off, don’t read. If mentions of physical abuse/child abuse set you off, don’t read.

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598019/chapters/1078847

12. Chivalry Series [Harry Potter]

When Harry appears at the Welcoming Feast wearing a glamor only Snape notices. Snape decides to find out what the glamor is hiding. 

You, the guiltless, will pay for your father’s sins,

Roman, until you repair the decaying 

Temples and shrines of the gods, and their

Images, filthy with blackening smoke.

When you act as servant of the gods, you rule:

From them all beginning, leave them the ending. 

Horace, Odes III-6

Word Count: 123,467

Status: Series is marked as Ongoing, though individual stories are Complete

Welp. Angst, some explicit child abuse (specifically physically violent Vernon Dursley), grief and mourning, ptsd, accidental potions class disasters that lead to more angst, sickfic, hurt/comfort, blood, gore and violence, child neglect, and eventual found-family by way of Severitus and a developing sibling relationship between Harry and Luna. There is a lot to unpack here. The interactions between Harry, Luna and Severus are especially endearing and heartbreaking. This is your explicit warning: if explicit child abuse /physical abuse set you off, or if accidentally forced (yes, I know how that sounds) flashbacks set you off, don’t read. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/12306

13. In Care Of

By Fangs_Fawn

During the summer before sixth year, Harry finds an injured bat in the garden and decides to try to heal it... and an unwilling Snape learns just what kind of a person Harry Potter really is. 

Word Count: 45,319

Status: Complete 

I’m gonna be upfront with you. Vernon and Dudley Dursley are very sadistic in this story. Tread with caution. That said, along with the angst this is a very solid hurt/comfort fic that is also a reciprocal hurt/comfort fic (in that, first Snape is helped, and then Harry). It’s a nice emotional exchange. Violence - explicit child abuse and torture, grief, and a very petulant animagus. This is your explicit warning: if physical torture/violence sets you off, don’t read.

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023625/chapters/2036909

14. Like None Other Series [Harry Potter]

By aspeninthesunlight

A letter from home? A letter from family? Well, Harry Potter knows he has neither, but all the same, it starts with a letter from Surrey. Whatever the Dursley’s have to say, it can’t be anything good; so Harry’s determined to ignore it. But then, his evil schoolmate rival spots the letter and his slimy excuse for a teacher intercepts it and forces him to read it. And that sends Harry down a path he’d never have walked on his own.

It will be a year of big changes, a year of great pain, and a year of confronting worst fears. It will be a year of surprising discoveries, of finding true strength, of finding out that first impressions of a person’s true colors do not always ring true. It will be a year of paradigm shifts. 

And from the most unexpected sources, Harry will have a chance to have that which he has never known: a home... and a family.

A sixth year fic, this story follows Order of the Phoenix and disregards any canon events that occur after book 5. 

Word Count: 1,465,418

Status: WiP

Currently there are two completed works in this series, and one ongoing. This is a ROLLERCOASTER, omg. Terminal illness, child abuse, explicit, agonizing torture, grief and mourning, bad coping mechanisms, self-harm, self-destructive behavior - hurt/comfort out the wazoo. Eventual Severitus, this is a good, substantial found-family fic with a developing sibling relationship between Harry and Draco. I really appreciate that Severus, Harry and Draco continue to step on each other’s toes as the story moves along. They get as much wrong as they get right, and the familial development is natural. Harry does struggle a bit with the newer experience of a paternal Severus weighted by the previous years of his antagonism and petty behavior. Severus struggles with balance, Draco struggles with extremes - behavior, feelings, intrusive thoughts - it’s a very well-rounded story. This is your explicit warning: The torture is incredibly graphic, and there are needles involved. If that sets you off, don’t read. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/41198

15. Stay [Danny Phantom]

By jaeger_soul

Dash Baxter is finally a senior and this year isn’t supposed to be hard. With nothing waiting on him after graduation, he might as well sleep through his classes. He’s already got a job after high school’s over, what’s the point of reaching for anything more? He’s fine with what he has. But when ‘more’ comes in the form of a black-haired boy with similar problems to his own, can Dash really not try for it?

Word Count: 817,287

Status: WiP

This is technically a series, since the author has written one companion piece from another character’s perspective for chapter 27 of the story. Oh my god. Dash is a sweet, sweet cinnamon roll who’s just trying to muddle his way through, and terrible things happen to him. This is not Dash the bully from the canon series. The endgame ship is Dash/Danny, and it is very slow-burn. Lots of hurt/comfort in this fic, and the author’s OC’s are incredibly fleshed out and wonderfully developed. Anxiety and panic attacks are pretty heavy in this story. Small town-typical homophobic slurs, make an appearance. Teenagers having sex with other teenagers is a thing. Mentions of abortion and teen pregnancy and unwanted pregnancy all happen later on. Mentions of suicidal thoughts and attempted suicide are plot points. Abusive and abused ex partners. Child abuse - emotional, mental and physical - is the heavy hitter in this story. It is explicit and painful and heartbreaking. Consider this your warning. ABUSE. Explicit, agonizing depictions of trauma, and being used as a bargaining chip between two different but equally terrible parents - if any of that sets you off, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. 

Read here:https://archiveofourown.org/series/646532

16. Under Wing [Harry Potter/Katekyou Hitman Reborn Crossover]

By Reighost

Prophesies were tricky things and lies are even trickier. Sirius’s death becomes a catalyst and Dumbledore’s lies crumple like a house of cards. Harry is left with a burning question... Who is he really? Crossover with Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

Word Count: 145,771

Status: WiP

This story goes hard on the angst right out of the gate. And I do mean hard. Oh my god. A literal mindfuck that will leave you gasping. Psychological manipulation and torture, mind rape, body horror, and non-sexual indecent treatment of a corpse to start with. However, there is a lot of good content in this hurt/comfort fic. The author has not only brought HP and KHR together but has blended elements and characters from Spirited Away, Cardcaptor Sakura and xxxHolic together in such a way that despite all the horror, there’s actually a lot of redeeming charm. You will never find a better interpretation of the Hibari family than the Hibari’s that Reighost writes about in her universes, and this story contains a flashback to the Hibari parents meetcute and it is adorable and hilarious. While this is a wip, it’s at a very good stopping point that’s more or less the end of a story arc - so don’t let the thoughts of a slow wip put you off. This is your warning: Mind-control and mind-control recovery, and gore, all quite explicit. If that sets you off, DO NOT READ. There’s a reason this story is so far down the list. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123387/chapters/2264363

17. Distorting Equivalency [Fullmetal Alchemist]

By Ranowa Hikura

All Ed knows is that he’s been kidnapped by a madman. 

Word Count: 173,000

Status: Complete

Go hard or go home. This is 27 chapters of kidnapping, explicit torture, and unethical alchemical experimentation with chimeras. All those feelings you have about Nina? Dial it up to eleven (to point out, Tucker and Nina are not featured characters in this story - unfortunately that disaster has already happened). A hurt/comfort fic with a very good resolution. Also becomes eventual Paternal!Roy and Ed. This is your warning: If explicit, repeated torture and body horror set you off, AVOID THIS FIC. 

Read here: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12116762/1/Distorting-Equivalency#end

18. I’m Not Broken (I Can’t Be) [Homestuck]

By [orphan_account]

Guys don’t get raped. 

Okay, so maybe they do, sometimes. But that’s only when they’re ganged up in an alley way and shoved against a wall and get some other guy’s dick in their ass without permission. It’s forceful and bloody and masculine. At least, that’s how the media sells it.

But this isn’t rape.

When a girl buys you drinks and takes you home and crawls on top of you - well, that’s every guy’s wet dream. 

When she’s grinding down onto you and her hands are holding yours to her breasts and she’s whispering filthy, filthy things into your ear, that’s not rape.

That’s not rape no matter how many times you say no.

Word Count: 33,386

Status: Complete

This is your explicit warning: Rape. The scene is non-graphic (lead-up with fade-to-black scenario) and takes place in the first chapter. Trauma, self-harm, suicidal ideation, destructive behavior, mentions of homophobia. If the summary of this story isn’t enough of a warning, then here you go. DO NOT READ if this is what sets you off. Hurt/comfort and ANGSTANGSTANGST aside, the aspect that I appreciate most about this story is how it deals with trying to come to terms with a trauma you don’t know how to articulate (to yourself or others). I don’t generally do stories that rely on miscommunication, but in this case, it makes sense: it’s less about miscommunication for the sake of plot, and more the lack of ability to articulate effectively, which. Yeah. Dark, angsty hurt/comfort that eventually ends on a positive, hopeful note. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777171/chapters/1462358?view_adult=true

DUN DUN DUN - THE BIG THREE 

Let’s call it a three-way tie, because there is SO MUCH PAIN in each of these stories, honestly I really can’t pick an order for them.

19. Sacrifices Arc [Harry Potter]

By Lightning on the Wave

Harry’s twin Connor is the Boy Who Lived, and Harry is devoted to protecting him by making himself look ordinary. But certain people won’t let Harry stay in the shadows...

Word Count: 3,081,000

Status: Complete

Wrong Boy Who Lived. Severitus, Slytherin!Harry. Drarry. If those are on your radar, this may be the story for you. Just beware literally everything else. Torture, mind-control and manipulation, child abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, mental abuse, neglect, rape, cannibalism (is it cannibalism when it’s a werewolf eating a human child), trauma, destructive behavior, violent loss of limb, blood, gore, viscera, necromancy - these are just some of the explicit things that take place in the series. There are eight works in the Sacrifices Arc, and they mirror the canon Harry Potter series in that they start at mild and slightly odd and become darker and more horrifying. This is a very, very long series, and it hits a lot of milestones within the HP fandom. There are lovely moments of tenderness, the OC’s are magnificent and well-developed, and while heavy-handed from time to time, the author explores notions of morality and spends a lot of time on magical theory and world-building. If you haven’t read Sacrifices Arc and want more information, google it’s tvtropes page. I would recommend doing so just to determine whether or not the story is safe for you to read if you’re concerned about it, because there is a LOT going on. Otherwise, start with the first story in the series (“Saving Connor”) and proceed with caution. You will absolutely be wrung out before you finish.

Read here: https://m.fanfiction.net/u/895946/

20. Phantom of Truth/Shadow of a Doubt [Danny Phantom]

By HaiJu

Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her subject, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth... except, perhaps, herself.

Word Count: 366,000

Status: Complete

Do you want to get fucking wrecked? Because this series will do it. Holy shit. I still can’t believe I got through it. This is so well-written and so. Fucking. Painful. The first entry in the series, Phantom of Truth, absolutely GOES THERE. The second entry is... everything that comes after. I don’t feel like it spoils anything to tell you that Maddie is not the person who captures Danny Phantom, or that she does not know he’s her son. Make of that what you will. Also, the first story does have a good resolution and does not end on a cliffhanger, so if you need to take a break after, you should. Bonding happens, and I wouldn’t call it Stockholm Syndrome, since it’s between Maddie and Danny, but I also wouldn’t say it doesn’t overlap. This story is absolute fucking angst. Shadow of a Doubt explores not only the traumatic repercussions on Maddie and Danny and their relationship, but on their friends, family, acquaintances and even enemies. There are some very good OC’s that come into play later on. You know, between all the angst and pain. Tread carefully: If you think you’ll be set off by torture and abuse, DO NOT READ THIS FIC. I cannot stress that enough. 

Read here: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/7476808/1/Phantom-of-Truth

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/9683169/1/Shadow-of-a-Doubt

[It’s worth mentioning that HaiJu has an ao3, but they haven’t finished crossposting Shadow of a Doubt to their account]

21. Like One Sundered Star Series [Homestuck]

By oriflamme

Who are these shining like one sundered star? 

[Like kindled lights in untempestuous heaven,

Fair flower-like stars or the iron foam of fight.]

———

Teenage superheroes deal with hormones, mental illness, and extremely secretive guardians in a world of Horrorterrors, giant mutant lucii, mob violence, nightmares of a past life, warring anti-heroes, and asshole carapacians. Sburb AU divergence from Real Men Wear Tights. 

Word Count: 1,712,155

Status: Complete

Welcome to the AU of an AU that did a double reach-around back into canon and became a reincarnation AU. It’s fucking excellent and also fucking traumatic. Body horror, blood and gore and viscera, torture, emotional manipulation, mind control, child abuse, emotional abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, attempted suicide/suicidal ideation, codependency, alcohol abuse, just to name a significant few. This is a huge pale-tango clusterfuck and it’s glorious. The world-building is insane. Richly developed OC’s, good use of languages, images that a slowly incorporated into a story of increasing breadth and complexity - and a fucking bombshell that will hit you really, really hard about midway through the story. So much pain. Again, this is another series with a tvtropes page that you should visit if you have any concerns before reading, because there is just that much going on. There are three works in this series, two are companions to the main body of work. Proceed with caution, because this will squeeze the life out of you. 

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/56682

Welp.

[dcusrclicta]

Character Bios

Parenthesis means they have a Harry Potter AU verse 

Name: Severus Tobias Snape Year: Cute. House: Slytherin Blood Status: Befouler Antichrist Eye colour: Cobalt nowadays Age: Old enough to say no. Birthdate: 1/9 Height: 6′7 Patronus: Horned Viper Description: I still hate my job. I still hate people. I’m just immortal now. Please leave my office & don’t touch anything on your way out.

Name: Brittnay Matthews Year: College Junior (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 21 Birthdate:  6/15 Height: 5′5 (Patronus: Pitbull) Description: Cross me & I’ll hurt you. Otherwise I’m Brittnay Matthews you’re new best friend. People think I’m arrogant but in reality they’re angry I’m better than them. I used to go to Overland Park high school. I’m glad I don’t anymore.

Name: Rhaegar Daeron Targaryen (Year: Graduated/Verse Dependant) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: ??? Eye colour: Violet Age: 34 Nameday: All I remember was being born in the high summer Height: 7’1 (Patronus: Hungarian Horntail) Description: I’m believed to be dead. Walking about when one is believed to be dead is actually quite boring no matter how much it may benefit the Realm. I do admit I made. Many mistakes however in my defence not all prophecies are interpreted in a straight forward manner. I did better than any of you would have in the situation so save your criticism for until you watch a man identical to you get his chest caved in by a war hammer.

Name: Lilith “Lily” Sophie Evans Year: Graduated/Verse Dependant House: Slytherin Blood Status: Demon/Witch Eye colour: Green/Blue/ Sometimes they go crimson. Age: Doesn’t matter. I won’t die. Birthdate: 1/30 Height: 5’3 Patronus: Bold of you to assume I have one  Description: My sister was right. I’m a freak. Even my parents saw something... Wrong in me when I was younger. They tried to pretend I was fine. ”Just a few odd occurrences here & there.” Until an older boy who couldn’t keep his hands to himself suddenly found that a hand could very easily be turned inside out. In the long run it was a good result. They found quite a bit of child pornography in his little hovel of a bedroom. My parents knew I did it but couldn’t quite figure out how until the Hogwarts letter came. They were both horrified & relieved. But to make a long story short. Once I met Severus Snape & we put our interest in the Dark Arts together... I got WORSE. & it felt good. I became addicted to the draw of dark magic, occult magic in particular & now Tom Riddle wants me to tell him what I said to Lucifer to get this new body. I might tell him if he begs in the right tone.

Name: Brahms Hillshire Blood Status: Half-demon Eye colour: Green Age: 16 Birthdate: Don’t care Height: 5′11 Description: I’m a child serial killer. I want to play around in your innards. & blood. I want to play around in your blood too.

Name: “Andrew” Antisepticeye McLoughlin Blood Status: Computer Virus Entity/Demon Eye colour: Lime Green Age: 29 (Existing for 3) Birthdate: 10/10 Height: N/A Description: It’s better if ya dun run. It’ll just drag et out. Plus sometimes ya lot chip my knife on one of yer stupid bones. & I dun really li’e runnin much ta be honest.

Name: Chase Brody Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Blue Age: 29 Birthdate: 4/11 Height: 5′10 Description: Hey bros! I’m Chase! Uh, some of ya already know tha! Anti brought me here! He said it’d be fun an’ I trus’ ‘im! I swear ‘e’s actually always been kinda nice ta me! Besides the ‘ole threatenin’ the kids thin’ but we’re frien’s now! He says he’ll teach me how ta shoot a real gun someday!

Name: Brian Griffin Blood Status: Dog(?) Eye colour: Green Age: ??? Birthdate: ??? Height: 6′4 Description: I used to be an alcoholic dog. Now I’m an alcoholic. Not much to say after something like that happens. I’m really confused to be frank. Maybe now I can actually get someone to take me seriously & publish my book.

Name: Carlos De Vil (Year: Sixth) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Half-demon/ Sorcerer Eye colour: Blue Age: 16 Birthdate: 3/20 Height: 5′7 (Patronus: Red Fox) Description: Hi, I’m Carlos & life is pain, only valid things in this world are only science & Evie Grimhilde, bye. Gemini De Vil is my midget brother who I love. Devil De Vil is my crazy ass dad. My mom is dead, thanks for asking.

Name: Danny Flint Blood Status: Shade Eye colour: Grey Age: Old Nameday: ? Height: 5′4 Description: Being dead was less droll.  

Name: Eileen Tabitha Prince Snape Year: Graduated House: Slytherin Blood Status: Pureblood Poltergeist Eye colour: Black Age: Well. I died at 35 so let’s go with that Birthdate: 12/18 Height: 6’11  (Used to be 6'6 but I had this weird growth spurt two days before I died.) Patronus: Didn’t have one apparently

Description: … I really don’t have anything to say to you. I died, I decided I wanted to come back. Er. Awkwardly enough the old castle I was haunting is now inhabited by my son and his family. They’re all really bloody loud. No wonder the rest of the ghosts make so much noise back. And no. I have not introduced myself to any of them. I mean. Sometimes I talk to ‘em but I’ve never gotten an answer. Plus unlike most of the floating assholes here I’d much rather keep to myself, thank you.

Name: Griffin “Finn” Merterns Blood Status: Human(?) Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 Birthdate: 3/14 Height: 6′3 Description: Hey bros! I’m Finn, a radical kid that makes it his business to help people out and kickin’ monster tail! Mostly when I’m not doin’ that I’m chillin’ it up with my bro Jake in the tree house so as long as you’re not some wacko monster that wants to eat up my face you can swing by and we can fire up BMO or something.

Name: Henry Harry Jameson Hook (Year: Slytherin) (House: Seventh) Blood Status: Half-demon/Sorcerer Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 Birthdate: 10/23 Height: 6′2 (Patronus: Savannah cat) Description: All it takes is one wrong look & I’ll EVISCERATE ya... Taken by Uma daughter of Ursula. Ya want me? Ya have ta ask her permission & pray she likes ya & is in a SHARIN’ mood. Jamie Hook is me mum an’ she taugh’ me all I know about bein’ scary. Me da??? He’s a dumbass.

Name: Karl Vreski (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 (Typically) Birthdate: 10/25 Height: 6′1 (Patronus: Jackal)

Description: I’m Karl. Lacrosse. Tacos. Boxing. American football. Whatever activity that involves either Hans Gruber or hitting something? I like it. Tony’s alright. Good brother at least. Not at all annoying like the normal younger sibling M.O. Far nicer than me. I’ll likely end up being a lawyer same as my father. Boring but Hans and I are already working at the damn firm so it’s an easy job. I’m sure Hans’ll come up with a more fun idea. He always does.

Name: Tony Vreski (House: Hufflepuff) (Year: Seventh) Blood Status: Poltergeist (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 (Typically) Birthdate: 9/3 Height: 5′10 (Patronus: Rooster)

Description: I’m Tony… I uh. I play some football. Real football not American. I’m Karl’s younger brother and… To be honest Hans scares me a little bit even if we’re all like brothers… Uh more often than not I just go along with their crazy plans because. Well because my brother says it’ll be fun. And. It usually is. Even if some of it’s a little illegal.

Name: Loki Friggason (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: God of Mischief & Chaos Eye colour: Green Age: Don’t be rude. Birthdate: Mind your business Height: 6′0 (Patronus: Corn snake) Description: I am Loki of Asgard. & I’m so fucking tired of all the gards.

Name: Beverly Marsh Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Green Age: 14 Birthdate: 8/26 Height: 5′3

Description: I’m Bev. Looked into that stupid clown’s deadlights & lived. I’ll be a loser to the end & I’m honestly real proud of that. Losers have no where to go but up, after all.

Name: Marceline Abadeer Blood Status: Vampire Demon Eye colour: Green Age: 1003, Approximately Birthdate: Unknown Height: 5′9 (Various) Description: Marceline the Vampire Queen, dude. Sure you’ve heard of me before so I wouldn’t be surprised to see you shaking in your boots right about now. Been traveling and terrorising the Land of Ooo for a while now though it’s nothing too irreversible. Mostly I’m just a radical dame that likes to play games as a very special someone once said about me.

Name: Nathan Clarke (Year: I died in seventh) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: (Verse dependent) Poltergeist (Half-blood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 Birthdate: 8/13 Height: 6′2 (Patronus: Some squiggly thing I dunno) Description: Hi I’m Nathan & I wanna die... Haha gottem!

Name: Richmond Richie Wentworth Tozier Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Caribbean Green Age: 14 Birthdate: 8/10 Height: 5′10  Description: I’m only afraid of werewolves & girls with eyes that are hard to not get lost in.

Name: Robyn Black Robin Blood Status: Poltergeist Eye colour: Hazel Age: Hm Nameday: Some far off winter Height: 6′5 Description:  “The Gods above all knew his crimes The lord read off his lists The Gods above all knew his crimes The men's hands balled to fists His legs they kicked, they jerked, then slowed The crowd not once did cheer His legs they slowed, then finally stopped The crowd not once did jeer”

Name: Sadie O’Connell Blood Status: ??? Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 Birthdate: I don’t remember Height: 5′6 Description: I tried to kill myself over a boy who didn’t love me back. Someone brought me back & now here I am, I guess.

Name: Scorpio Felix Sepelio Tobias Exodus Snape Blood Status: Vampire Eye colour: One is jade one is cobalt and they swap sides frequently Age: 91 Died at 36 and it’s been a while. You do the math, mate. Birthdate: 11/10 Height: 5’3

Description: Surprise bitches. I bet you all thought I was dead…In a matter of speaking that’s still accurate. The greasy little snot did indeed best me when I was human. I respect that victory &even though I miss them.. My children don’t need me. I wasn’t good to them when they did. I doubt they’re aware I came back and I’ll keep it that way for all our sakes. There’s no point in asking me how exactly I returned to life. I don’t know and I don’t particularly care. Maybe Hell just can’t handle me yet.

Name: Thomas Marvolo Riddle Year: Graduated House: Slytherin Blood Status: Demon Fledging Eye colour: Blue Age: Rude. Birthdate: 12/31 Height: 6′4 Patronus: Hmmm, my little secret. Description: Join my cult. Satanism is actually very beneficial if you’re respectful. No. You don’t have to slit your wrist to join... Please. Stop slitting your wrists to join.

Name: King Aerys Targaryen Second of His Name King of the Andals & the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms & Protector of the Realm (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human Mine is the blood of Old Valyria (Pureblood) Eye colour: Violet Age: Hm. Nameday: High summer.  Height: 6′8 (Patronus: Gila Monster) Description: Burn them all.

Name: Ser Jaime Lannister (Year: Graduated) (House: Hufflepuff) Blood Status: Shade (Pureblood) Eye colour: Green Age: I’m dead. Sorry. Nameday: Does it matter? Height: 5′6 (Patronus: Munchkin Cat) Description: I stayed loyal to the Targaryens & they won. But I died when Robert Baratheon caved in Rhaegar’s chest... At least I got to watch him die for it.

Name: Daenerys Visenya Targaryen (Year: Fifth) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: ??? (Pureblood) Eye colour: Violet Age: 15 Nameday: During a violent storm Height: 4′9 (Patronus: Blue-tongued Skink) Description: My family’s way is fire & blood... But my heart sings a softer song... & I don’t know which way is right.

[kittyinhighheels]

so- whats the deal with that 13 reasons why thing anyway ? isnt it like... just an entertainement thing like the others, that ppl can pick to watch or not just like the others, exept that it says "so uh theres real dark graphic stuff in there so know what youre getting into" ? like i genuinely dont get how hating it is different from any other anti rethoric, esp since... literally all medias exept fanmade/free stuff are about making cash ?

Feel honored ´cause I only got on my laptop so I could properly answer you.

My issue with the netflix show 13 Reasons Why

So for anyone who doesn´t know yet, 13 Reasons Why is the netflix adaption of the same-titled book by Jay Asher from 2007.The plot of the book revolves around 16-year-old Hannah Baker, who committed suicide by overdose a while ago. Her classmate, Clay Jensen one day receives a package with seven cassettes, each side numbered from 1 to 13. Clay goes on a nightly trip through the town while Hannah´s voice on the cassettes tells him why she killed herself - and what role he played in it.

In the book, Hannah was more shy and kind of introverted. She was new in town and her only “friend” had just moved away. Then she fell for a guy and put his trust in him, so far as to give him her first kiss. Her trust is crushed when the same guy spreads around the rumor that he was allowed to touch her breasts and make out with her and since we all know, High School is hell and now everyone thinks the new girl is a slut. She becomes an outcast.A little bit of hope blossoms when she becomes friends with two other new students and regularly goes to a café with them to talk about their problems. After a while, their friendship breaks and not only that, but these two friends actually drag her into their own fight and use her to provoke each other. One of them even pushes her status as a slut just to provoke the other. Her trust has now been broken yet again and she´s alone. Again.Her only safe space now is at home. There she can be herself and no one will bully her for something that was only a lie. But one day, she hears a noise outside of her window and gets scared. To prove if her fear is justified, she asks a seemingly nice girl to help her. They find out that one of their classmates followed Hannah home and took pictures of her in her room when she undressed, when she was just sitting there. And even worse, they caught him masturbating under her window. Her only safe space left has now been taking from her.As if that wouldn´t already be horrible, said “nice girl” now also spreads rumors that Hannah is a slut and it starts to affect her in every way. Guys who show interest in dating her only want her sexually and when she goes to a shop, she´s being sexually harassed. She gets more and more depressed and her parents are gone most times so she doesn´t really have anyone who she can talk to. She loses trust in anyone. Clay tries to be nice to her but she´s so far “gone”, she´s so desperate and lonely that she´s scared of trusting him or of him helping her. She has to listen to her old friend being raped as she hides in a closet out of fear. She has to live with the fact that she couldn´t help her and that a car accident she was involved in caused the death of one of her classmates. She can´t take it anymore, so she changes and hopes someone notices. She wants to reach out, so in a class she anonymously asks the teacher if they could talk about suicide, to see if someone - anyone - would catch on that it´s about her and maybe try and help her because she´s too scared to say it herself. But no one does and even if, she´d never know because one of her classmates, the guy she rejected after he hit on her, took away the notes she had in the little bag every one in her class had to give each other compliments and support. Even the poetry she shares with someone she thinks could be a friend, the poetry that shows her vulnerable side, is published by said friend. So even that little support she could have had was taken from her because the dude was butthurt. She has a mental breakdown in the hallway.Hannah starts to think about suicide and she gets so bad that she doesn´t scream for help when she is raped, she just silently cries. Her last hope is supposed to be her counselor but he pretty much victim blames her and tells her to get over it.So she is alone, depressed and has no safe places anymore. Every little attempt at getting help, at reaching out, has brought her ridicule and rejection. Side B of tape 7 is her last word “Thank you” before she dies after she swallowed pills.Clay, shocked about what he heard, sees another girl at school, an old classmate of his, and recognizes all the changes in her Hannah had just talked about on the tapes and decides to run after her to maybe prevent another suicide from happening.

The message of the book was over all that what you do and what you say to someone can affect someone in a lot of ways and at worst, can even cause a snowball effect. Justin´s rumor about Hannah being a slut was the snowball that caused pretty much everything that happened to her afterwards. The sexual harassment, the voyeurism, Alex involving her in his fight with Jessica. Maybe the only things you can´t blame it for was the car accident everything that was with Bryce. But if that one thing hadn´t happened, Hannah might have been fine. Everything after that took a bit of Hannah´s safety, of her happiness and trust. So she killed herself. 

I got the book when I was eleven. Bad idea because I had my ´till then worst depressive episode and the book didn´t really help with it. But I loved it, so I read it at least once a year. When I got on tumblr, it saddened me that the fanbase for it seemed so small because the book touched me. I could probably still recite the last verse of “Soul Alone”. Now imagine how happy I was when I heard that a book that influenced a major part of my youth would be made into a netflix show and produced by one of my favorite celebrities. They even talked to psychologists and mental health professionals to make it as good and appropriate as possible because they wanted to spread awareness about the danger of suicide and bullying! They wanted to make a show not only about mentally ill teenagers but also for mentally ill teenagers.

When I watched it, the first thing that confused me was the order of the people on the list and that Clay listened to the tapes over a few weeks. The order of the people had a good reason since she talked about it in the order of when it happened. Clay listened to them in one sitting while walking through the town and being confronted with people and settings that affected Hannah. So I wasn´t really happy about the way they went with that.

The second thing that confused - or more, annoyed - me were the characters. Hannah was rude and way more extroverted. I can´t say how many times I rolled my eyes when she “trapped” Justin in that bus and pretty much played with him. Also her entire suicide was played as a revenge act, since you never saw any of her attempts at really reaching out and you never really saw her getting worse. It glorified suicide as an “in your face!” thing for people who hurt you and made her appearance as a ghost in season two seem like suicide was anything but a long-term, definite solution to a short-term problem.Jenny, the blonde girl who caused the accident and I think was even the one encouraging Hannah to go on a date with Zach, was suddenly black and was called Sheri. Tyler was suddenly a victim when he was actually a voyeurist. Zach was a heartthrob when he harassed Hannah and took away her only real support at school because he was butthurt.

But one of the worst character offenses in my opinion was Courtney. Courtney was the girl Hannah asked for help to catch Tyler taking pictures of her at home. Courtney massaged her and later on told everyone Hannah had a bunch of sex toys and used her for her own popularity. She was the last real straw before Hannah got really bad. She had no real description other than “manipulative attention whore who uses people to gain popularity”. What did they make her? An Asian lesbian. They chose to make the worst and most manipulative girl in this entire story a mix of two minorities. Because that´s definitely the kind of representation you´d want as an Asian lesbian in the USA.

Now to the things that really bothered me about the show itself. As a reminder, everyone involved in the show told the media that their goal was to raise awareness about the consequences of bullying and suicide and that they had talked with professionals to make the show as appropriate and accurate as possible. A show for mentally ill teenagers, not only about them.Every psychologist and professional for mental illness will tell you that showing suicide and rape graphically can be extremely triggering for mentally ill people. Especially graphic suicides only invite copy cats. It´s dangerous and harmful to show it this way and everyone with an ounce of experience in psychology will tell you that.

I read the book prior to the release of the show on netflix. I prepared myself for the rape scenes, I prepared myself for Hannah´s mental breakdown, I prepared myself for Hannah swallowing the pills and dying.

What did I get?

Clay showing Skye´s self harm scars

And Hannah graphically slitting her wrists

I spent the rest of the night rocking myself back and forth scratching my arms because my mind only circled around this scene.

None of these scenes were in the book. Both of these were needlessly added to create shock value and drama. Changing Hannah´s suicide from a drug overdose to her slitting her wrists in a bath tub and bleeding out did not serve any purpose. It was unnecessary and only triggered those who didn´t know it would happen.

“But it has an age rating!”

It´s a show about High School students, specifically mentally ill ones. You really think teenagers won´t watch something about them?

“But it has trigger warnings!”

A usual trigger warning can be for anything from drug abuse to sexual harassment to death. They are so unspecific that the sheer image of Hannah grabbing a bottle of pills and the mention of her suicide could have warranted a trigger warning. It didn´t prepare you for anything. And again, for the book readers it was just a slap in the face because none of us were prepared for this bullshit.

This show doesn´t care about its viewers or about the things they go through. Otherwise they wouldn´t have done this in season one and especially not this “sympathy for the school shooter” bullshit they apparently pull in season two, in a country that on the day the season was released had a school shooting. All they care about is the money. 

Also, if you want a taste of its fanbase:

[kittenfemme27]

The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires

I don’t know about you, reader, but it’s been actual years since I was able to properly sit down and finish a book. My last one was Lovecraft Country in 2018, and many, many years before that. Reading used to be a big passion of mine, I loved to get lost in the worlds. I loved the movie that played out in my head as I read, as if it was projecting itself into my mind more-so than i was actually reading the words themselves. For a kid who didn’t always grow up with the internet or video games available, Books from my local library were a great escape.

So, having found myself getting more and more into horror around 2019 in all forms of media I consumed, I was more than happy to bookmark a tweet from a horror artist I follow on Twitter who had a list of all the horror books he’d read that year. This would be my chance to get back into reading, finally!

Cue.. 2 years later, and I’ve finally started on that list. The top of that list, “The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires“, was something I found immediately intriguing from the title and cover alone. I’m now regretting that decision so much that I’m not sure I’ll bother with the rest of the list.

(CW: R*pe, Gore, Racism)

“The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires” is an awful book. The only compliment I feel I could accurately give it is that it’s not written incompetently enough, from a purely technical standpoint, as to be unreadable.

The story stars Patricia Campbell, a housewife in the 1980′s-1990′s that is more apology than character, and her rag-tag group of similarly middle-aged, middle-income southern white wine sipping housewives who do, and I cannot stress this enough, almost nothing but test each other’s and the readers patience for nigh on 310 out of 357 pages. They bicker, they fight, they treat Patricia as crazy when she repeatedly shows them evidence that children around them are dying, and most of all they refuse to do absolutely anything, leaning more into pure disbelief until the problem has literally violated one of them. The book club women don’t lead interesting lives, either. They’ve got husbands who are not in love with them, children who hate them, and friendships with each other that can be broken by what feels tantamount to bringing the wrong wine to a meeting. Throughout the story, Patricia is accosted by the resident Vampire-like creature, more akin to a human mosquito than any sort of real “Vampire”, that moves in after his aunt dies. A man named James Harris. He smoothly worms his way into everyone’s lives in the charismatic way a vampire does and convinces everyone that Patricia is more or less insane for ever suspecting him of being a vampire after she watches him feed on a child. This leads to her attempting suicide after being pushed into a corner by her doctor husband who seems to have been ripped straight from the 1950′s and thinks women should be Seen and not Heard. She gives up and more or less goes comatose as a character for roughly 3 years until finally she snaps to her senses after seeing a ghost of her dead mother in law who knew the Vampire when she was a small child, who leads her to one of the bodies he’s got stored in his attic, and convinces everyone else in her book club, who has routine abandoned her at this point, to help her kill James. They do, chopping his body to bits while it taunts them and then throwing the bits into a fire. Patricia divorces her husband at the end and somehow that makes her children lover her, happy-ever-after ending.

That’s the rough synopsis, but it doesn’t really do the grossness of this book any justice. That first child James kills, is a black 9 year old named Destiny who later kills herself as it’s revealed that the Vampire-like creature’s bites feel so good and so sexually pleasurable, that if you are deprived of them after becoming addicted you’re likely to just commit suicide. This is AFTER she’s taken away from her mother by child services because they assume the bite marks are syringe injection marks and that her mother must be a druggie. She’s not the first black child to die this way either. In-fact, by the time Patricia becomes wise to James’ ways, she’s the third. They’re all from a poor black neighborhood that is literally described as shady, dangerous, and being full of “Super Predators” called Six-Mile, which is the de-facto feeding ground of the Vampire for a good 75% of the book, as well as the home of the literally only surviving named black character, Ursula Greene, who herself is nothing more than a “wise old negro” trope along with being a maid to these rich white people who think of her as trash. This is probably the biggest overarching problem in the book. It tries, in the authors words, to explore the relationships between the white, rich women who brag about how their cul-de-sac is so safe and pure that nobody even locks their door, and the poor black characters from Six-Mile. The book thinks its clever, because Mrs. Green constantly points out that the white characters let the black children die callously so that their white children would live, to which they can only reply about how guilty that makes them feel and how they’re sorry. I’m not sure what the author hoped to accomplish by pointing out the institutional racism of the 90′s, but whatever he hoped to accomplish, it fail flat on its face in the most racist way it could.

I wish that was where gross things ended for this book, but its not. At one point, the Vampire-like creature rapes one of the book club members and she is more or less outright stated to be pregnant with a monster from that rape and it is also revealed that the rape gave her an “Auto-Immune Disease” that the characters husband immediately likens to AIDS and that is very quickly killing her. This information causes her to choose to have her body cremated so nothing can spring forth from her corpse when she dies. The implications this has are frankly appalling. The books decision on whether or not a woman who gets pregnant from rape is worthy of life is to resolutely and proudly say no and treat that as if its a feminist answer. That if you’re raped, it’s akin to something like AIDS and life simply isn’t worth living. it’s one of the grossest things I’ve read in a long time.

It’s not even the only shock value the book uses to make it’s events feel real and scary, others include Patricia’s son “Blue” being obsessed with Nazi’s, for genuinely seemingly no reason. He just brings them up to make you, and everyone in the story, uncomfortable. There are constant overwrought descriptions of gore or simply gross scenarios, such as an indepth description of Patricia’s ear-lobe being ripped off, or rats gnawing the flesh off on a old woman, or a cockroach crawling inside someones ear. There is also the repeated child murder or child suicide, which doesn’t really serve a purpose other than to shock the middle-aged mothers this book was meant for, with multiple sentences in which Patricia thinks about how much it would hurt if that were her children, inviting the reader to do the same with their own.

And we couldn’t forget that this book is just unrepentant in its horniness. It’s outright stated that being fed on is the most sexually pleasurable thing one can feel, which makes it all the more awkward when you consider that the Vampire’s first set of victims are children, later Patricia’s teenage daughter who she walks in on in the middle of being fed and who she has to stop from literally masturbating in that moment while attempting to punch the Vampire off of that same teenage daughter. But, of course, it doesn’t end there. It’s a book about almost entirely women written by a Cis Male Author, which means there are constant depiction of female bodies in the nude or in violence. It’s no “She boobed boobily”, thankfully, but it’s not much better than that. Describing pubic hair, breast shape, and even making it so that the Vampire-like creature drinks from a penis-esque proboscis that extends from it’s throat and right into the upper thigh of it’s victim, which is mentioned twice to be right next to the vagina. It even goes so far as to try and sexualize its own rape, aswell as having Patricia tell the rape victim how good it feels with this section between the two. Something I’m including here in its entirety because no amount of words I can write describes how gross this passage is, in context.

   “Grace already... told me,” Slick said, opening her eyes, pulling her mask away from her face to speak. “I made her... give me all the details.”

   “Me too,” Patricia said. “I was out from what he did to me.”

   “How did... it feel?” Slick asked.

   Patricia would never have said this to anyone but Slick. She leaned forward.

   “It felt so good,” she breathed, the immediately remembered what he’d done to Slick and felt selfish and insensitive.

   “Most sin does,” Slick said.

I think the thing that angers me the most about this book is that it’s tricked a lot of people who read it into thinking its a fun, feminist read. All of the main characters are overworked mothers who struggle with being that overworked, and then come out on top anyway because of their motherly intuition and love for their kids. It’s the kind of book that a single struggling mother would read and think “Yeah, I’d do that, that’d be me! I’d save the day!” and it makes them feel good about themselves, and about being a mother, and about how hard it is to make the kids lunches and clean the husbands dirty underwear and make sure the house is clean and dinner is on the table by 6 PM all while looking hashtag fabulous and like a girlboss. A quick trawl through any review site will show roughly the exact type of single mothers this book is written for giving it 5 stars and calling it hilarious and empowering. And y’know, I don’t have a problem inherently with prose written for that demographic. But this book gets away with a ton of racism, sexism, and outright disgusting content by hiding itself under that veneer and I think that’s just awful. It should be held to scrutiny for what it is, for how bad it is, and it clearly never was.

Don’t read this book. It sucks. It sucks so fucking much. I want my night I spent reading it back.

[mayordamien]

Title: Fallen Angel

Chapter 4: Unexpected Puzzle Pieces

Fandom: Markiplier (Who Killed Markiplier)

Pairing: Damien x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2,598

Tagging: @markired (if you’re still interested in it), @miss-meg1710

The woman that had entered the house was indeed the woman that had been in the photo with Mark. She had black short hair in a pixie cut, and wore a dark black veil with a long black dress—it looked like she was in mourning. The Colonel seemed to perk up when he saw her, while Damien bristled noticeably. You found yourself grimacing; how did Damien know her?

“What are you doing?!” she demanded, almost immediately commanding the attention of everyone in the room. She carried herself with confidence, and it showed in everything that she did from the moment she had entered.

Much like you, the detective was—thankfully—suspicious of the woman. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, but the Colonel still looked relieved, and everyone’s eyes turned to look at him when he spoke up.

“Celine? What are you doing here?” he asked, still holding his gun up at the detective. Damien, however, was tense, his hand clenched tightly around his cane. He was holding onto it so tightly that the veins in his hand were popping out, and you found yourself placing a hand on his forearm to try and comfort him somehow, but it was as if the gesture went completely unnoticed.

The detective, however, had not received the answers he wanted, and continued yelling in the hopes that the Colonel would give him the reply he desired. “’Celine?’ How the hell do you know her?” he growled. The butler interrupted, however, and the detective rolled his eyes in frustration, exhaling tersely.

“Madame, I'm afraid you've come at a very inopportune time. Something dreadful has happened here,” the butler tried to say, clearly hoping to address the issue sensitively. 

You found your mind racing, jumping to conclusions of how exactly this woman—Celine—was involved with Mark, let alone how she was involved in the whole situation. Judging by what you had seen in the pictures in Mark’s room, it was very likely she had been involved with Mark romantically, possibly even married.

Celine crossed her arms and looked around at everyone. “I can see that, and I'm glad I got here before it got any worse,” she said, and you found yourself resisting the urge to snort. If Celine truly cared about what had happened, wouldn’t she have been more involved? Been here from the start? Anything similar?

The chef piped up again, an expression of defeat on his face, and he held up his index finger. “This is only the tip of the iceberg! And it's a big iceberg. How can I put this delicately? Mark’s fucking dead!”

Celine gasped and put a hand to her chest in surprise. “What?”

“Dead, like my hopes and dreams,” the chef murmured, shoulders sinking before he shouted, “And he's a flesh-eating zombie.”

Still keeping her hand on her chest, Celine responded in a concerned tone, “Homo necrosis…” The Colonel looked elated as he held up his gun again, this time aiming it away from Abe, shouting, “Exactly, hence the guns.”

The detective looked absolutely finished with everything, and rolled his eyes before yelling at the Colonel, “That is not ‘hence the guns!’”  Your eyes shot up to view Damien’s profile as you tried to gauge just what was going through his mind. Unlike normally, his expression was unreadable, and you found yourself almost frightened. Damien tended to be an open book in regard to almost everything, but to now have him closed off was disconcerting.

The butler was clearly fed up with people yelling and aiming weapons at each other inside the house, and stepped in between the detective and the Colonel, holding his hands up as if that small gesture would force them to cease. “Stop waving those bloody guns around!” As he said this, the Colonel waved his gun in the butler’s face, and the chef joined in, waving his ladle.

Celine, clearly annoyed, held up her hand in response, her fine eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “Hol-hold on! Tell me what happened! How did Mark...die?” Clearly unaware of whatever quirks the house possessed, she used the word ‘die’ instead of murder—though as she would soon find out, it was almost as if the house had some sort of sentience to it. Damien finally found his voice and spoke up next, surprising everyone in the room, but especially you.

“It was murder. And worse yet... The body is missing.” His voice was careful, restrained. It was very unlike him and was still chilling to you, but the difference in his tone from normal seemed to baffle everyone else in the room as well. And as always, as if on cue, the lightning went off when the word ‘murder’ was uttered. Celine noticed this and her gaze darkened.

“What? Show me. And don't say that word,” she ordered. It would be rather difficult for anyone to show her the body, however, you thought. They had all been searching for it when they had downtime, but nobody had found it yet and it still remained as unsolved as ever.

The chef, however, seemed to be taking great joy from annoying Celine, and replied, “What word? Murder?” Once again, the lightning flashed and the thunder roared.

Celine threw up her hands in the air out of sheer frustration. “Yes! That word!” but the butler piped up, “Well, I mean murder is a rather accurate description of what occur—“ but he was cut off by Celine, whose eyes were trained on Damien and you.

“Do you not see the lightning?” she snarled at the butler, getting right up in his face. He balked, and backed up, most definitely appearing to not want to deal with the fiery temper of this woman.

The detective spoke up for the first time in a while, commenting, “You sayin' it was lightning that murdered Mark?” It was more a sarcastic reply than anything else, as he had been the last one to inspect the body before it had vanished, but Celine didn’t reply, and the Colonel appeared to have taken it literally.

The Colonel shrugged offhandedly, still holding his gun. “Well, Mother Nature doesn't exactly strike me as having murderous intent. ...Unless you count that time I was sucked into the board game: Jumanji and I wa—!” He was cut off by Celine, and looked almost offended, like a puppy that had been kicked out into the rain.

Damien was as quiet as ever, and you squeezed his hand reassuringly, but he was far too tense to reciprocate. “Damien,” you whispered quietly so only he could hear, “who exactly is Celine?” You were waiting for his response, and when he didn’t reply, you crossed your arms. “Damien, tell me.”

Damien exhaled and looked back at you, turning around. “Celine was Mark’s wife, and she’s my younger sister,” he whispered simply.

You looked at Damien with an expression of shock. “She’s your sister?” you hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” Damien looked at you apologetically and sighed.

“We never really got along, and when I turned eighteen we cut ties after I left home and started going to university,” he explained. He said nothing more, leaving you confused, and he looked as though he wasn’t about to answer any more of your questions.

Celine interrupted the hushed conversation between you two, as well as stopping the Colonel from continuing his rant about Jumanji. “Stop, stop! Look, whatever's happening here is tapping into forces far beyond our control.” Damien raised an incredulous eyebrow, but remained silent.

You couldn’t stop yourself from whispering to him once again. “What on earth does she mean? Is she involved with some sort of ghost shit?” The only answer you received was a small nod of Damien’s head.

“Yes, it’s likely,” he murmured.

Once again, as if trying to test the waters of Celine’s patience, the chef mumbled “Murder!” and the lightning flashed. Deciding to join in, the Colonel slowly drawled, “Mur...doch?”

Nothing.

Even the detective joined in, confidently stating “Malarkey,” and as if playing a game of Marco Polo in the pool, the butler shouted, “Marco!” After these shenanigans continued, the lightning went off after the word ‘murder’ was uttered, and Celine had eventually taken them to sit at a round table in one of the different rooms.

Celine folded her hands and placed them on the table, her gaze piercing into everyone there. “Enough! Look. Mark's death is a terrible thing indeed. But I fear that there are forces much darker than anything we've seen here today. I'm well versed in the arcane arts, but if you, untrained and uninitiated, can summon lightning with a mere word, we're all in far graver danger than anything we could ever hope to face alone. We're gonna have to work together if we're gonna survive this,” she declared. You personally wasn’t a believer in anything supernatural, and the idea that there could be something more sinister possessing the house was farfetched—were you the only one who wasn’t trusting Celine?

Damien looked at her incredulously, one hand gripping the table firmly, his other hand resting on your thigh as a form of comfort, though his grip on your thigh was a little tight as well, and his cane lay across his lap. You put your hand on top of his and squeezed it underneath the table, and he questioned, “Celine, what are you proposing?”

Celine was very firm in her declaration, and tipped her chin up, indicating she wasn’t about to argue about this. “We need to speak with Mark.”

You didn’t believe in supernatural things but even the idea of messing around with something of the occult just sounded like a bad idea. The chef interrupted, and you glanced at Celine to see her rolling her eyes, and then glanced at Damien, who seemed to be resisting the urge to bang his head on the table. “I knew it! He's a flesh-eating zombie!” the chef declared.

Celine’s voice was coated with annoyance. “No—“

A moment after, the Colonel interrupted, “Well, maybe one of those smart zombies: homeo sapio zombifus.” Celine shook her head and huffed in frustration. “No, no. I need to commune with the dead.”

The detective seemed to agree with you, and murmured, “That… doesn’t sound like a good idea,” but Celine glared at him and tipped her chin up again. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t need your permission. But you--!” You glanced at Celine to see her pointing at you, and you put a hand on your chest, pointing at yourself with a confused expression. “You've been awfully quiet through this whole thing.”

Damien glared at his sister, and moved his hand from your thigh to rest around your waist.

The chef and others joined in, and the chef grumbled, “With those beady little eyes.”

“And wearing those rags, pff,” the butler said mockingly.

The detective gestured at you, one eyebrow raised. “Maybe I shouldn't have trusted someone so goddamn gorgeous,” he mumbled, and you could feel Damien bristle jealously.

You glanced at the Colonel but he waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I'll pass.”

Celine, however, changed direction with what she said next, placing her hand back on the table. “But I feel like I can trust you. I sense that you have a far greater part to play in all of this. Will you help me find an answer?”

You glanced at Damien, but he was watching Celine with a completely neutral expression—you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. You nodded, and a smile made its way onto Celine’s face, one that was a little chilling. “Perfect. Come with me.” You stood up, and you started to follow, reluctantly withdrawing yourself from Damien’s touch.

The detective’s eyebrows narrowed, and he barked, “Alright, that's enough. I'm not gonna just sit around and let you drag my partner off to her very likely death. I won't stand for it!” With that, he stood up and slammed his hands on the table, glaring at Celine.

The Colonel seemed to disagree with this notion, and shot a glare at the detective. “Well, I trust Celine with all my heart! I see no reason why an-any-any one should doubt her!” he stuttered. Damien seemed to be biting his tongue, keeping his opinion silent.

The butler piped up, holding up an index finger in protest. “Well, I have to agree with our intrepid detective here. It just doesn't seem natural…” he murmured.

The chef gestured offhandedly to the detective. “I never liked this uptight asshole. He walks around with a stick up his ass. But I think he's right, something's weird.”

Celine rolled her eyes, but stood up fully from the chair, pushing it back in to the table, and you followed suit, doing the same. “If it makes you feel any better, you guys can stand watch outside the door, but my work cannot be interrupted,” she said firmly.

Abe’s stone-hard stare met Celine’s. “Oh, believe you me. I'll be keeping a close eye on every single one of you. Even myself. Especially myself.”

Celine’s brown eyed gaze met yours as she looked away from the detective, and she gestured for you to follow her before walking out of the room, and you did as you were instructed. Finally drawn out of his thoughts, Damien pushed the chair he had been sitting in back, and dashed after you and Celine, blocking the way up the stairs with his arm. “Wh—Celine? Celine, wait. Wait!”

Celine’s tone was terse, and you stood behind her, watching Damien with a sad expression. He looked torn apart—it obviously bothered him being the only one who seemed to care about what had been happening. “Yes, Damien?” she asked, pursing her lips.

He hesitated, but spoke up anyway, “I… are you alright?”

Celine sighed, saying nothing, still glaring at him. At that moment, you could definitely see the familial resemblance in how they carried themselves, in their firm stares, and in their determination to get what they wanted. “I know this news can't be settling well with you,” Damien said, and you remembered that Mark and Celine had been married, but if something struck you as odd, it was the fact that Celine didn’t even seem to care that Mark was dead. All she seemed to care about was exploring the possible darkness in the house.

“I'm fine for now,” she said simply, and pushed past Damien’s arm, heading to the upstairs. Damien followed her, and you tagged along behind, not sure what to say.

“I... er... But all this talk of the occult! And—and Mark is dead, wait! Wait. I just didn't think you were the type to become mixed up with all this,” he said once they reached the top of the stairs, and you could hear the pain in his voice as it broke.

Celine pointed at him threateningly, her voice breaching no contradiction. What she said was an order. “There is more to this world than you could ever hope to imagine. I just had my eyes open to a small portion of it.” With that she took off down the hall, not waiting to hear what Damien had to say. You moved past Damien slowly, and he spoke down the hall to Celine. “I…Just be careful,” he sighed, and when you stepped up next to him, he looked at you thoughtfully. “You too.”

Saying nothing, you embraced him, and he placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before you withdrew, heading down the hall after Celine.

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Bran Stark Week: Day 4: Family

The Stark children have some interesting and different dynamics between them. Not all of them share an equally close relationship. Some share a sibling rivalry, some share a close bond while others have a more distant relationship. When it comes to Bran, he might be the only one who shares a loving bond with of his siblings and can understand each of them.

Being born a son of House Stark, Bran naturally spend a lot of time with his male siblings (Robb and Jon, because Rickon was still too young) whether that was while they were practicing or when Ned taught them about ruling or doing some other activity. Bran enjoyed their company and he seemed to value their opinion.  According to his older brother Jon, Bran was a stubborn and curious child who always wanted to join in whatever his older brothers did. This seem to me exactly what a younger child who loves and admires his big brothers would do.

Bran clearly looks up to Robb which makes sense especially considering their place within the family. Robb is the first true born son of the family and he was the heir to Winterfell while Bran is the second true born son and the current heir. In his weakest moments, Bran draws strength from the memory of his brother.

[...]I'm a prince of the north, a Stark of Winterfell, almost a man grown, I have to be as brave as Robb.

Robb was always protective of Bran, and he became even more after the latter’s fall. An episode which highlights Robb protectiveness and worry for his younger brother is when some  Wildings tried to take Bran as a hostage. He was filled with fury towards them but once they threatened to take Bran’s life if he didn’t co operated with their wishes, he just backed down. Bran himself knows that he can be safe when Robb is with him and even says so after Winterfell is burnt down:

[...]Then it wouldn't matter who knew I was alive. Robb wouldn't let anyone hurt us

Bran is also close to his other older brother Jon and he never thinks less of him because he’s a bastard. In fact, when he was acting as the ruler in Winterfell and he was introduced to the Hornwood accession matter he suggested that Lord Hornwood’s bastard son should inherit the title and the castle because he was thinking of his own bastard brother:

"Then let Lord Hornwood’s bastard be the heir,“ Bran said, thinking of his half brother Jon.

The most powerful scene between these two brothers is when Bran wargs into Summer and saves Jon from an attack of the Wildings. Jon mistakes the wolf which saved him first for Ghost and later for Grey Wind but the reader knows that it was Bran inside Summer who did the rescue.

Of course Bran isn’t only close to his older brothers. In one of his chapters, Jon recalls that Bran was playmates with Arya, something that Bran also confirms when he sees a vision of Benjen and Lyanna Stark practicing together and mistakes them for himself and his sister. It’s easy to see why Bran and Arya would get along well. Not only they are close to age but also both are social and friendly with everyone (even with people below their status). Furthermore both love climbing and wandering around.

Bran and Arya not only share some interests but also they go on parallel journeys. Both of them are forced to live outside of the safety of a castle when tragedies strike their family. Both have to deal with hunger and cold on their journeys and both are currently under the tutorship of a mysterious and magical being. Those two are the ones who are more in touch with their wolfness and also the ones who are the most skilled skinchangers among their siblings.

Bran keeps seeing Arya in any other girl he meets  (Meera Reed and Leaf) or sees in a vision (Lyanna Stark). It’s very interesting that he compares Meera to  Arya, because Bran is starting to develop feelings for a girl who acts similar to his older sister (I believe that Arya has influenced Bran’s taste in girls).

Jojen was so solemn that Old Nan called him "little grandfather," but Meera reminded Bran of his sister Arya. She wasn't scared to get dirty, and she could run and fight and throw as good as a boy. 

 Among all the Stark siblings, Bran is the one who understands his sister, Sansa, the most. When Robb complained that Sansa’s letter didn’t make much sense Bran was quick to defend her and offered explanation about his sister’s action:

Bran felt all cold inside. "She lost her wolf," he said, weakly, remembering the day when four of his father's guardsmen had returned from the south with Lady's bones.

Sansa herself understands Bran, too. She knows her brother’s interests and what kind of stories he likes and she actually gives us one of the most accurate descriptions of Bran:

Bran was a sweet boy. Everyone loved him.

These two siblngs also share some parallels. When they were still on Winterfell both of them were idealists who loved stories and dreamed of the South (Bran wanting to become a knight and Sansa the queen). After harsh reality crashed down their dreams both were linked to bird imagery.

Bran can only act as an older brother to Rickon, because he’s the only Stark child who is younger than him. Most information we have about Rickon come from Bran’s chapters and since those two are the only ones who remain at Winterfell even a book after the rest of the family has departed, Bran is Rickon’s closest family member.

 After even Robb leaves them, Bran acts as an adult towards Rickon, always trying to make him behave well and calm him down when he acts out of line. Rickon is missing his siblings and even more his parents  and that have left a hole in him that Bran can’t fill, no matter how hard he tries. Still, thanks to Bran, Rickon is able to experience an unconditional, familial love.

Rickon began to cry. His arrowheads fell from his hand one by one and clattered on the floor. Bran pulled him close and hugged him.

[sonofhistory]

Can you do a book review/description of America's First Daughter? I'm trying to decide between that or another book.

I should probably review this book while the text is still fresh in my mind. I could not pull myself away from this book, I read the whole 600 page book in less than twelve hours. 

America’s First Daughter was one of the best journeys I have ever undergone while reading a book. It was incredible, it completely transforms you. The writing was exceedingly talented and I appreciate in words I cannot express how much they kept to historical accuracy and narrative. It was so accurate, the only accuracy I can count was the fact that they said Thomas Jefferson had blue eyes even though his eyes didn’t go blue until later in life; and that he still had ginger hair until his death even though by then his hair had turned sandy. 

The book handles topics of sexism, abuse, racism and slavery very well. I must remind you: the book is narrated by Martha Jefferson Randolph meaning everything comes from the author’s interpretation of her thoughts and emotions. Sally Hemings makes an amazing appearance and the book is incredible. It is now in my top five favorite books. 

Please, I have never read a book that has affected him in such a way, I beg you with all my heart to read this extraordinary and beautiful novel. 

If you do not know what America’s First Daughter is about, here is a very long and detailed summary *SPOILERS BENEATH THE CUT* (but is is kind of just history… so):

The novel is narrated by Martha Jefferson Randolph and begins with her in her father’s bedroom after his death. Martha begins shifting through papers her father left for her while explaining her life long experience living under the roof of a man who wasn’t simply the author of the Declaration of Independence. While in his room, Sally Hemings comes in and sets the stage for what shall be their entire relationship throughout the book; Sally gives her a key to Jefferson’s room and she speaks of how she was Jefferson’s mistriss in public life and Sally could never be how she is. It is not smug, it is genuine. They pass no words before Martha flashes back to her childhood and begins and tell her life with him.

We get pulled back into 1781 to the night Jack Jouett stormed to Monticello in the middle of the night to tell the Jefferson family that the British were coming to capture Thomas Jefferson. “Papa” send Patsy, Polly and her mother off on a carriage where they reside the night. Another person he will become a large figure in the life of Patsy is William Short who accompanies them in their flight from Monticello. At this time, Patsy is about eight years old and her mother, Martha Jefferson, is still weak from the birth and loss of her recent child Lucy Elizabeth. 

After weeks of switching from home to home, while capturing the pure intimacy and devotion of Thomas and Martha Jefferson. Papa (Thomas Jefferson) takes Patsy out for a horse ride and views their plantation workers, stopping one slave from being whipped because he does not want to frighten her. While on their horse, Thomas decides to impress his wife and in doing so, Patsy slips off of the horse, she nearly falls but her father catches her at the cost of his own and he falls to the ground, breaking his right wrist. Patsy remembers this moment for the rest of her life and remembers the times when he doesn’t save her. 

They are able to return to Monticello and Martha gives birth to another child, Lucy Elizabeth again. However, the child ransacked her body of all strength and she soon begins to die. On her death bed, Martha makes her child promise that she’ll protect her father because he is going to need her. During her mother’s death she does not cry, puts on a brave face and accepts what she has put upon her. All the intimacy occurs and Martha soon dies in her husband’s arms after giving a silver servant bell to Sally Hemings. 

Following her death, Monticello becomes just a ghost of what it had once been and Patsy reassures her crying sister Polly in words that told her that father is going through more than they can possibly imagine and they need to be there for him. In the middle of the night, Patsy is awaken by the lack of life in her home and creeps to her father room after hours earlier hearing the sound of glass shattering, screaming, books being thrown to the floor shelves falling over. She gets to get father’s room only to find him disheveled and only a shell of who he once was. She inches closer and finds a pistol sitting on the table beside him, she keeps calling his name but he does not reply and stares off, before he can reply she grabs the pistol into her hands and sits there holding it so her father cannot get to it. 

Jefferson doesn’t eat or sleep, refuses to hold Lucy Elizabeth or look at Polly because they are both memories of her and clings to Patsy but never looks or says anything. He begins to take horseback rides a few weeks later with Patsy in front of him and every time they reach the wedding home he shared with Martha he begins to sob violently. Patsy believes her father is getting better, how ever, one day while out on a ride, Jefferson speeds the horse into a gallop and sends her ducking for cover from the branching slapping at her face. She looks up at the wrong time and finds herself concussed, with cuts, bruises and lying on the forest floor. There, William Short finds her, gets snappy at Jefferson before bringing her home while explaining that she was going through grief too and Jefferson was not the only one torn apart by her death. 

Jefferson has his children inoculated for small pox and Patsy remembers that it was her father who stayed by her side throughout the whole thing, tending to her with care. Soon after, Jefferson reveals that he is taking a position as Envoy to France and leaves Polly and Lucy-Elizabeth with their aunt while taking Patsy with him. While traveling from Monticello to Philadelphia, they stay in the home of Colonel Randolph who is Jefferson’s brother-in-law. Colonel Randolph was a cruel, abusive man and especially unkind to his eldest son: Thomas Mann Randolph. Colonel Randolph tries to get Jefferson to marry again and he remembers the death bed promise to his wife saying that he would not marry and leaves the room. 

Patsy becomes acquainted with two of her cousins, the Randolph sisters, Judy and Nancy. While there, she has her first conversation with Thomas Mann Randolph who taunts her with rather sexist statements which she fumes at but does not respond. They leave soon after, arriving in Philadelphia only to find that their passage is not to be and Jefferson leaves Patsy in the city by herself in the care of a rather religious woman who gets her tutors. Patsy writes her father letters but she stops and only replies when he writes back. She begins to grow angry at her father for abandoning her with his woman and is overjoyed but still distressed when he comes to collect her. They go to Virginia an give a brief call to Lucy Elizabeth and Polly before embarking on their journey to Paris at the tail-end of 1783. 

They arrive in Paris with James “Jimmy” Hemings in tow and take lodgings in the city. There, they are acquainted with John and Abigail Adams and though Abigail is a little off putting to Patsy she makes her feel welcome and at home by taking her shopping and helping her pick out dresses. She takes a liking to Abigail but begins to miss her sisters. While in Paris, she catches wind that William Short is coming on a ship to be Jefferson’s secretary and he arrives soon after. Patsy is sent to school at a convent that she begged not to be send to where she is teased by the other girls for her hair color and bony elbows, most of the teasing comes from a girl names Kitty Church who she begins to somewhat despise. 

Short begins to call upon her at the convent where she is gathering her education. A man beings lodging with them but she does not enjoy him and rummages throughout his belongings, finding out that he was a British spy housing with them and sending his bills to her father tab. One day, Patsy is called from the convent to spend some time with her father only to find that her father’s attention is not completely molded upon her. Maria Cosway is a woman that Patsy also begins to despise and she is polite but shows disdain towards the woman. At a dinner, Patsy realizes she not only has feelings for William Short but is in love with him. She doesn’t allow these emotions to control as she knows “Mr. Short” has other women flocking around the handsome young bachelor. 

Patsy and her father receive words that Lucy Elizabeth died in Virginia and she immediately wants her father to bring Polly to Paris with them. The difference between Polly and her older sister is that Polly has independence and rather a kind of nature that promotes going against the rules and shows restraint to unfair treatment. At the convent, Patsy begins to become friends with a girl named Marie who will become a close, close friend. Jefferson’s affair with Maria Cosway finishes and Patsy is angry that she hurt him. Polly arrives in France with Sally Hemings and she is angry her father did not go to her himself but sent for another man to collect her. Patsy knows that Sally is her mother’s sister and begins to get a good relationship with her. She shares an intimate scene with William Short on a winter day with Polly but is heart fallen when she comes upon a scene of her father and Sally Hemings–together. She confides in William Short who knows about what has been going on and Patsy soon feels she is being betrayed by everyone around her even though Short is an abolitionist. In this she grows a protective nature over Sally. 

William Short and Patsy grow closer and he asks her father about if they could in the future possibly marry and her father declines this offer sending him on a hiatus around Europe. William, as he told her to call him, never sends a single letter and her sisters and herself grow sick with typhus, so sick her father feared they would never recover from this mortal blow. Polly does not grow better and becomes deaf. At her bedside, Patsy promises to god she’ll become a nun if Polly will survive and Polly wakes up. She confronts her father about taking her vows but her father breaks down in front of her saying her cannot loose her too and he would rather shovel dirt over her grave then have her locked up for the rest of her life. Patsy cries with her father and he pulls both of his daughters out of the school. In result, knowing she is at courting age, Jefferson allows her out into society by herself. 

She begins to have many suitors with her friends as well and one day, William Short arrives at the ballroom and apologizes to her for not writing. Patsy acts polite but begins to shut him out until he confesses his love for her and she does too. They share their first kiss while she is being escorted home. Jefferson does not want her to marry him but accepts that they can get married in the future. Jefferson begins planning his trip back to Virginia and William and her father prey on her mind; she can go to Virginia with her father and risk him never allowing her to come back to marry William or she could abandon living with her father and marry William, traveling around Europe on diplomatic excursions as his wife. She choses to be with her father but begs William to wait for her–he doesn’t. 

They arrive back in Virginia and her father shows an interest with pairing her with Colonel Randolph’s son who is now all grown up but Patsy only remembers him as the fourteen year old boy who teased her as a child. She still has extreme feeling for William Short but dismisses them. Thomas Mann Randolph is taller than her husband and exceedingly handsome. Sally Hemings gives birth to her son right as “Tom” who is in love with Patsy asks her to marry him after only a month of knowing one another. She consents and they marry. Their first child is a daughter named Ann who Tom absolutely adores. Soon after a son is born, named Thomas Jefferson Randolph. She gives birth to another daughter named Ellen but she dies soon after and she gives birth to another daughter whom she names Ellen. 

Tom has a terrible relationship with his abusive father who tormented him as a child and regularly beat him as is implied within the text. While on a visit to Colonel Randolph’s house, Sally Hemings’s son dies and they bury him on the plantation where they couple believes they are going to later reside in. Colonel Randolph marries a new woman only a year after Tom’s mother died. At first, Patsy’s marriage to Tom is relatively happy although it takes a while for her to fall in love with him. Tom’s sisters escape their abusive new step mother and begin to live with Patsy when she moves from her plantation Varina (which he hates) to Monticello to watch over the estate in her father’s absences. After Colonel Randolph’s death, Tom rides there only to find that he had died and hours earlier moved the owner to his estate to his new child also named Thomas Mann Randolph. Tom grows a little angry and while Patsy is attempting to give suggestions, Tom slaps her for the first time sending Sally up at the noise to inspect what had happened. 

Tom is exceedingly guilty for what had occurred. The man her sister Judy married, Richard, also was having a relationship with Judy’s sister Nancy before all of his occurred and a rumor was created saying Nancy and Richard had a child but Richard killed it and chopped it to piece with an axe. Patsy does not believe the charge and gets called up for the trial to testify in defense of Nancy even though she grows convinced that Nancy did do something to provoke an abortion in her. 

More children arrive and Tom begins to grow a little more violent, especially with her eldest son, Thomas Jefferson Randolph. For the littlest mistakes, Tom would threaten to beat Thomas into submission but Patsy always comes to his defense. Her daughters never received a beating from their father, but Thomas always got the fist. Meanwhile, Patsy, who now goes by Martha after he marriage, knows her father his completely oblivious to what is going on around him. Polly marries a cousin, Jack Eppes and Martha realizes while there is nothing harmless about the man, his libido will end up being that kills Polly, who now goes by Maria. Maria gives birth to a child in an exceedingly difficult pregnancy and the child dies soon afterwards. Martha is struggling to keep her household in order while also tending to her husband and children. Tom stands for election and looses which sends him down a worse spiral which is only uplifted when he is elected governor of the state. 

Thomas Jefferson is elected president of the United States and Sally has several children with him. Sally recognizes that that all of her children are slaves to their master and she speaks to Martha about her deal with Jefferson which stated that her children would go free at the age of twenty-one. Maria gives birth to another child, grows weaker and then gives birth a final child even after Martha begs her Jack Eppes to stay off of her because she is delicate and the next child is going to kill her. Maria knows she is dying, and turns to Martha saying the exact words she heard her say to her to reassure her after their mother died and their father was rampant with grief. Maria soon dies and Martha doesn’t cry at her grave. She remains stoic until she gets to her home before she cries as she has never cried in her entire life. Jack Eppes takes a slave into concubine, begins flirting with women and never allows his son to see his grandfather, aunt or family. 

They receive a visit from William Short and they become fast friends just how they used to be. After a while, Tom’s drunken habits seem to be getting worse and their children begin to marry. They eldest daughter, Ann, marries a man named Charles Bankhead but he turns out to be rather abusive and takes out his anger on his wife and children, severely beating them. One night, the butler, Burwell will not give the keys to the liquor cabinet to Bankhead and when Martha attempts to stop the argument, Bankhead strangles her nearly causing her to black out before her husband walks in, grabs a fire poker and smashes Bankhead over the head with it nearly causing him to die. After this event, Bankhead packs up his family and flees. 

One day while Martha and Ann are together, Bankhead begins to hit his causing in the ribs causing her to bleed and Martha quickly grabs the horse whip before slashing Bankhead across the cheek. A few weeks later, following an altercation between Bankhead and Thomas Jefferson Randolph (Martha’s eldest son) they fight before Thomas is stabbed in the arm and in the stomach and nearly dies. Thomas Jefferson (Martha’s father) grabs his horse Eagle before speeding off to his grandson where he cries at his side. Before Martha can help her daughter, Bankhead again grabs grabs Ann and her children before running off and not returning for several years. 

In the meantime, Martha learns of the extreme debt her father is in, and begins to see the debt Tom’s father brought upon them as well as their eldest son, Thomas’s debuts he received from his father-in-law. Martha informs her father that they may be forced to sell the Monticello and this completely disheartens them all. Sally’s children begin to hit the age of freedom and she worries about them being off in the world by themselves but Martha reassures her saying this is what she would want if she had children herself. Tom begins to grow more violent and during a visit from William Short, Tom attempts to rape her in her bedroom but she hits him the crotch before running into the hallway calling for all of her children to gather around her. Tom sees this scene of Martha surrounded by a protective ring of all her children and leaves, she is grateful William never saw this. one day, Martha and William both confess their love but Martha begs him with all her life never to come back unless he to risk getting hurt and William doesn’t want to leave her in such a state but she begs and he leaves Monticello. Before he leaves, she breaks down, sobbing for her mother, for her child, for her sister and for how she’d been so deceived by her husband. 

A few months later in 1826, Ann shows up with her children and Monticello badly beaten, bruised, cut from Bankhead and pregnant. She gives birth to a child before dying a short while after due to her injuries. Martha doesn’t want her grandchildren to be with that man and is forced to act courteous to him in order to manipulate him and coax him into giving her the children. She recalls that she never regrets this even in the slightest. After a while, she knows all of her daughters are going to become spinsters but eventually her daughter Ginny marries the man she’s loves–something her mother said she never had the courage to do. Ellen doesn’t want to leave her mother but she marries a man she loves and moves to Boston. 

A few months later, Martha’s father, Thomas Jefferson dies and she does not cry at his grave. Her drunk husband who had been gone appears and taunts her as he did when she was a child about how she has no heart and is heartless. Martha begins to break into pieces and after a while forces herself to reconcile with her husband, calling all her children together as he dies. Shortly after her father’s death, William Short arrives at Monticello and they re-unite, spending the rest of their lives together. She goes to dinner at the presidential mansion while Andrew Jackson is president and he calls her “America’s First Daughter”. 

The book closes with her about to ride a train for the first time to visit her daughter Ellen, with her is William Short. 

[nightterrorsblog]

My Spectral Roommate

I knew the house was haunted when I moved in. My childhood best friend had lived next door, and we had frequently talked about how she hated having to dress up and join her parents in greeting new neighbors with a dish of freshly baked cookies.

“I wouldn’t mind it so much,” she would reason, “if I didn’t have to go over there every 6 months and bite my tongue about how I knew they wouldn’t live there very long.”

The house was beautiful. Deep red-brown bricks surrounded 3 bedrooms, 1.5 baths, a large and gorgeous kitchen, and a finished basement, among other things. The building’s charm was what kept buyers coming, and the unexplained activity was when kept chasing them away.

But I wasn’t scared by the stories of disembodied footsteps and door slamming on their own. I had had my fair share of paranormal experiences, and had reached the point where it really didn’t bother me anymore. I always loved that house, and it was smack dab in the middle of a neighborhood where I had created so many wonderful memories as a kid. It helped that there was a long, not-so-great reputation about the abode that had driven the price tag down significantly.

So I moved in, sure that I would be able to outlast any previous tenants. I think she took this as a challenge.

The first incident happened quickly. It was the day I moved in, in fact. One of my buddies who was helping me move dropped a box full of books on his foot, and I noticed that the yelp that came out of his mouth was more one of surprise than pain. As the rest of us rushed over to his aid, he told us that there was a woman in the upstairs window, staring down at him with a furious expression on her face.

Those are my words, of course. His were “HOLY SHIT! THERE’S SOME CHICK UP THERE STARIN’ AT ME! SHE LOOKS PISSED!”

No one else had seen the woman in the window, but he was so freaked out that we decided it was a good time to head down to a local pizza shop for lunch. The rest of the move was uneventful, though my friends were pretty obviously on edge. I tried to keep the tone light, but I don’t think it helped.

“So you’re a lady ghost, huh? I hope you don’t mind that I leave the toilet seat up,” I joked as we dropped some boxes into the room the woman had been spotted. The friend who had seen her stood just outside the doorway and let out a forced chuckle, while the other two just shook their heads and left the room as quickly as possible.

For the next week or so, when I wasn’t at work, I was unpacking and organizing. I kept finding things in spots I definitely hadn’t left them. I’m still not sure if she was threatening me or making decoration suggestions when she shoved 4 steak knives and my meat thermometer into my now-deflated football and left them on the dining room table. Maybe she was insulting my cooking, who knows.

Aside from the occasional ear-splitting shriek at 3am, coming home to every light and appliance turned on and every closed door open a few times, and several incidents where an item would suddenly fly across the room, the first two months in my new home were a breeze. The afore-mentioned incidents really only bothered me because they were inconveniencing. The whispers and knocking on the walls were easy to ignore. As I said before, I was used to paranormal activity. It didn’t bother me in the least. I think this is why she upped her game.

It might sound cliché, but things got way worse on Halloween. I had volunteered with the neighborhood watch to walk up and down the street during trick-or-treating to keep an eye on the kids. No one wanted to go anywhere near the town’s notoriously haunted house, so I figured I’d celebrate my favorite holiday by donning an orange vest and carrying a flashlight up and down the block instead of handing out candy. At least I still got to admire the awesome costumes.

It was about 7 o’clock when two teenage girls, one dressed as an angel and the other dressed as a witch, approached me. The angel’s eyeliner was running down her glitter-covered face and the witch’s eyes were so wide that I wondered if she had a headache.

“Oh my God, you have to help us! Katie knocked on the door as a joke. It was just a joke, I swear! She was supposed to knock and run and she… she just froze and then the door opened and she walked in like… like I don’t know a zombie or something! We called her cell phone and she didn’t answer and now all the lights in the house are off and the door’s locked and we don’t know what to do! We don’t even know the guy that lives there but apparently he’s a creep or-“

I put my hand up and interrupted the rambling witch. I didn’t even have to ask which house she was talking about. “I’m the creep that lives there. No one’s home. She’s probably just fucking with you. Let’s go.”

We walked to my house like a weirdo parade: myself in front, the witch close behind me, and the sobbing angel in the rear blubbering about not wanting to go anywhere near “that hell hole”. Sure enough, the downstairs lights I had left on when I left were now turned off. The only sign of life in the house was the light in the upstairs bathroom, which I knew had been off when I departed.

I unlocked the door and entered my domicile, confident that I was going to find this Katie girl when she jumped out of some corner in an attempt to scare her friends. The wooden stairs creaked loud enough to hear over the angel’s scared sniffles as we made our way upstairs. We reached the bathroom, and I knocked lightly on the door before announcing myself.

“Katie, this is John. You’re in my house right now. I’m not mad, but your friends are really worried. We’re coming in. Don’t jump out at us or anything. The joke’s over.” No response.

I opened the door slowly, expecting this girl to be an asshole and try to scare us anyway. I was braced for something silly to happen, not for what we found.

There was my spectral roommate, standing in front of the tub. She looked to be in her late 40’s; still beautiful and youthful but with wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes. Her wavy long brown hair was slightly unkempt, like she had just gotten out of bed but hadn’t been there long enough to get full-blown bed-head. I figure she was roused from bed right before she died, because the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes made her look like she hadn’t slept in a week, and she was wearing a loose-fitting floral dress that I later realized was probably a nightgown.

These observations were analyzed after the encounter, because at the time all I could think was “ohshitohshitohshit”. I can promise that my descriptions are accurate, though. You just don’t forget a sight like that, especially after what happened next.

The woman slowly stretched her chapped lips into an open-mouthed smile, revealing broken and bloodied teeth. She laughed. It was a child-like giggle at first, increasing in volume until it was a booming guffaw. Just as I was wondering what the joke was, she vanished, revealing Katie lying unconscious in the bathtub.

She was dressed as a Britney Spears-like school girl. Her right arm was draped over the side of the tub, blood dripping from her fingertips onto the tile below.

The angel and witch behind me screamed and ran as I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and called 911. Katie was unresponsive, with deep bleeding gashes all over her body, but she was alive. I was taken to the police station and questioned thoroughly until the witch and angel were brought in by their parents. They told the cops their side of the story, which matched up with mine, and I was let go with instructions not to return to the crime scene until they contacted me.

The crime scene… because they didn’t believe the distraught man and teenagers that a ghost had damn-near killed Katie. I had to stay at my parents’ house for two weeks before the police figured out that they weren’t going to find evidence of the woman who had “broken into” my house and assaulted the girl. They recommended that I install a security system to prevent further incidents. Hah.

In my time away, I had done some research on ghosts. See, I’m a stubborn man, and I wasn’t about to just give up and put the house back on the market. I had made an investment, and I wasn’t going to throw it away. Also, I kinda doubted that anyone would buy it from me after word spread that a homicidal maniac haunted the premises, and word was spreading fast.

I had the house blessed (she threw a decorative shot glass at the preacher and gave him a nice cut above his eye) and walked around with burning sage, spreading the smelly smoke in every nook and cranny with hope that it would at least chill the bitch out long enough for my real mission: to find out what was keeping her there.

Some of the research I had done simply said that the ghost would haunt wherever they were killed, some said that they would only do so if they had died with unfinished business. These were options that I pushed to the back of my mind, because they meant that there was nothing I could do to get rid of my guest. If she was attached to the house itself, the only thing I could do was tear it down, rebuild, and pray that that was enough to shoo her away. Finishing her business was out of the question because no one knew who she may have been. There were no records I could find of someone dying in the house, and the previous owners before the revolving door of tenants started were all men who were unreachable either because they were dead or unlisted.

So I was left with the last possibility that my research provided: there was an object of hers that was still in the house that she was tied to, and I needed to find it and destroy it.

There was some old furniture and beat-up boxes in the basement that had been left behind by previous tenants. Yes, I checked, and there was nothing interesting among it. I called up a buddy of mine who has a lot of land behind his house, and we loaded it all up and had a nice bonfire. I was as hopeful as I was hungover when I returned home the next day. She must have expected that, though, because I returned home to a foul stench, three dead rats hung from the ceiling fan in the living room, and every faucet in the house running.

I called my bonfire buddy, who I had filled in on the whole thing while we sat by the fire, and told him I was fucked. It hadn’t worked. I was going to have to move.

“You said last night that that was everything from the basement… what about the attic?” he asked.

“I don’t have an- shit! The attic! I completely forgot about that!” Yeah, I’m an idiot.

There is an attic in the house. The realtor had shown me the door that leads to it when she showed me the house, sort of hidden in the ceiling of one of the bedroom closets. She warned me that the wood-flooring that was up there was old and possibly not stable, so I never bothered to enter it. The rest of the house had plenty of storage space, anyway.

I hung up with my friend and went into what I had set up as a guest room (like anyone was willing to sleep there but me, hah). I opened the closet, set up my small ladder, and pushed on the door in the ceiling.

It was heavy as hell and the hinges creaked loudly in protest, but I managed to push the thing all the way open and climb through. I knelt on the floor next to the door and pulled the flashlight out of my pocket, holding my breath as I turned it on.

Through the dust and cobwebs, I saw cardboard boxes all over the place. The attic was barely tall enough for me to stand in, so I had to walk hunched over a bit so the top of my head didn’t touch the ceiling. I took my steps slowly and carefully, remembering the realtor’s warning about weak flooring. I opened the boxes one-by-one, looking through them for anything that may have had some sentimental value to my ghastly roommate. I was open to the idea of another bonfire, but I preferred to just get this shit over with in my own back yard if I could.

As I was rooting through the possible belongings of my tormenter, I could hear her making a ruckus downstairs. She was going back and forth between screaming and cackling while she stomped around and pounded on walls. I figured this must have been a sign that I was getting close, so I kept going, despite the fact that my heart was beating so hard that I was getting a bit dizzy.

I pushed aside a box that I had just finished digging through, and a strong gust of wind came from nowhere and knocked me on my back. I coughed a few times, picked up the flashlight that I dropped, and pointed it toward where I had just been standing.

There she was, in all her glory, standing in front of an old-looking trunk. She was in a defensive-like position, hunched over a bit with her knees bent and her legs spread. Her elbows were out so her arms bent and she held her hands near her stomach, her fingers curled like claws. The look on her face… she looked so angry that I wouldn’t have been surprised if she roared at me. But she didn’t. She just stood there and seethed, breathing heavily through those broken teeth.

“Go. Away.” She said it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her.

“I just want to help-“

“GO. AWAY.” Her voice boomed this time, and another gust of wind slid me back several feet.

I scrambled backward, rolled over to my stomach and dog-walked quickly to the opening in the floor as boxes full of things I had rummaged through earlier hit my sides hard enough to leave bruises that I would discover later. I climbed down the ladder as fast as I could, missed the last step, and fell on my ass once again just as the door to the attic slammed shut. With as much speed as I could manage, I dodged books flying off shelves, furniture being tossed, and knick-knacks soaring toward my head as I ran out of the house. The front door slammed behind me with such force that the window set into the wood cracked. Once I got to my car, I glanced at the house while I fumbled with my keys. I could see the place being ransacked by invisible hands. I could hear the crashes as she threw everything and anything against walls and onto floors. As I opened the car door, she let out a shriek so loud that the windows of the house shattered and I swear the ground shook beneath my feet. I left and never looked back.

I’m a 36 year old man who currently lives with his parents. My mom believes in all sorts of supernatural stuff, so she understands. My skeptical dad occasionally bitches about me staying here while I save up money for a new place and furniture instead of just selling the house, but he also refuses to go there to see the chaos for himself.

I think I’ll make sure my next house is ghost-free before I move in.