#int: marley

[waveofstars]

@wlwhq | liked for a starter!

She was late again. Some nights, it was intentional. She’d never fully admit that to anyone, not even herself, but there were nights where she found a reason to linger in her office and work. Between her research and teaching, her schedule was tight and hardly gave her any free time. With what little free time she did have, she often spent it at her aunt’s bookshop where she lent a much needed hand. Lately, more than ever, it felt like she was looking for reasons to not go home.

Stepping inside their home, she shrugged her scarf off around her neck and hung it up with her jacket. The house was quiet but was filled with a wonderful aroma. Her nose followed her to the dining room where she saw an untouched glass of wine, candles that were burning down to the wick, and an empty plate. It hit her like a ton of bricks - they were supposed to have a nice dinner together that evening. Marley promised she’d make the time. She mumbled a curse or two under her breath and pinched the bridge of her nose as guilt ate her up. She poked her head into the kitchen just in time to see her girlfriend putting away the food. “Smells delicious,” she greeted, unsure how to approach the situation. Her arms crossed over her chest and she exhaled. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am… I completely lost track of time…” 

[xalivogel]

okay but what flavor are we talking? original? that's boring. i can fuck with the honey nut or apple cinnamon though. depends what else is in the cabinets and if my mom actually went grocery shopping recently.

yearbook might actually be a good idea - i have an old camera of my dads i've been trying to use more, and learn how to do like, Real Photography instead of social media stuff. lemme know when the next meeting is, or whatever - i'd love to tag along.

okay, so the only cheerios I ever engage with are in my cereal bowl and I definitely also spill 'em in my bed. I'm hopeless at the whole sports thing so power to you for escaping sue. do you wanna try out yearbook? we have lots of snacks and good vibes and we only meet every other week for a couple hours. low stakes and super flexible around glee.

[twistedthings]

𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔: m/f/anyone 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙:  your muse gets in a lot of fights or has a dangerous job where they get injured frequently & they’ve been coming to the clinic that Marley works at, discreetly & after hours & she takes care of them. They kind of have a slightly flirty thing going but it’s mostly to keep Marley off your muses’ case about how often they’re coming in injured, she thinks something is going on & is suspicious but she’s no snitch. hmu if you’d like to plot! 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: an assassin or hitman, boxer/fighter, someone scrappy/fighty, a criminal or mafia member, old fling or classmate from high school, idk whatever works~

“If you keep showing up here like that I’m gonna start to think you’re just getting hurt to see me,” Marley said as she entered the small room where the other waited, tucking her phone into the pocket of the pink pair of scrubs she wore. A small smile tugged at her lips before she tucked her long hair behind both ears and glanced down at the chart in her right hand, eyebrow arching before she snapped a look up at the other. Plopping herself down on the rolling stool the nurse scooted closer to where the other sat, she shook the chart in her hand before placing it on her lap and letting her green hues move over the other in an inspecting manner. “– what was it this time? Did you fall off the ladder cleaning your gutters?” She asked as she rolled back to put the chart on the counter and stand to pull on a pair of gloves, glancing back at the other once more before she turned to face them.

[npuckhq]

📲 ( puck & marley. )

puck: hey puck: didn’t really see you at the dance. did you go? @marlcyhq

[twistedthings]

@caeruleums liked THIS for a small spooky thing x

"I don't... I don't know how we got here, maybe I... maybe I fell asleep at the wheel, I don't know!" Despite her best efforts Marley was confused and didn't like that she couldn't remember what had happened in the last few hours. Last thing she could recall was driving through the wooded roads of West Virginia and the next she woke up against the steering wheel as if she'd been in a deep, deep sleep. "Look, if we follow the road I'm sure it'll end up somewhere." Not that she wanted to walk however many miles to the next town but the car wouldn't start thanks to a dead battery.

[giselle-archive]

Same, girl. But the way I see it, as long as you have enough bikinis, maybe a dress or two, maybe some shorts and crop tops, you should be okay. But the book part I can't help with. Maybe take two or three, but you can't read the entire week. That'd be a waste of a trip.

I always forget how much I hate packing until I have to actually pack. Like, how many pairs of pants is too many? What if I get there and I hate single outfit that I've planned? And what if I can't fit in all of the books I want to take with me? It's possible I may be overthinking this...

[almondamaretto]

sunday

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: a rainy sunday afternoon is perfect for two things: getting high, and making out with hot people.

warnings: weed, kissing

a/n: i lowk hate this but idc!

not proof read.

✄┈┈┈┈

she stirred as the familiar vibration of a phone call interrupted her deep slumber, slinging her arm around in search of the agitating device. without lifting her head, her fingertips fell upon the cool, glossy screen of her phone. 

she opened her eyes just to squint them closed at the bright phone screen, the caller id reading off "matty b." 

pressing the bright green button, she pulled the phone up to her ear and slung her arm over her eyes, blocking any light from seeping in. 

"hey matt." she answered in a groggy voice that nearly resembled that of a whine. he always loved the way she sounded in the morning. or all the time really. 

she could hear the distant sounds of wheels driving on wet pavement and cars passing. that along with the poor bluetooth connection through is car told her he was driving. 

"hey doll, i'm on my way to your house right now, that ok? nick and chris are being annoying." 

slightly more awake now, she could hear the sleepiness in his voice, as if he too had just woken up. she pulled the phone from her ear to check the time. 12:32pm 

"say, it’s a bit early for you, isn't it?" she asked in a teasing manner, suppressing a yawn. she could now hear the faint sound of rain against her window. 

matt snorted in amusement, "yeah, the two idiots woke me up screaming at each other." 

"that's alright, I'll go unlock my door. see ya soon?" 

"i'm 5 minutes away." 

"be safe, bye matt." 

"bye, doll." 

doll. 

matt had used the nickname throughout their entire relationship. 

still, it never failed to bring heat to her face, her neck--all over. 

she remained in bed for a few moments, letting herself fully wake up before tossing her heavy comforter off. 

she shivered at the chilly air suddenly caressing her exposed skin, standing up and stretching her arms high into the air, inhaling deeply. 

she slipped a pair of socks on as a barrier between her feet and the cold floor, slipping out of her cozy room into the main section of her apartment. 

the cool, metallic texture of her lock was a stark contrast to her warm hands as she turned it, peeking out from behind her curtain to see what was happening outside. 

she waltzed over to her turntable, flicking it on and letting the record already on the platter play.  

as she walked over to her kitchen, the familiar crackling sounded throughout the apartment, followed by the reggae notes of bob marley's "three little birds." 

the sound of lucky charms cereal clinking against a ceramic bowl masked the noise of her door opening and shutting. so, when a slightly damp matt saw her swaying slightly to the music, he couldn't help himself. 

he snuck up behind her, wrapped his hands around her front, just under her loose baby tee, and lifted her up. "boo!" 

she yelled out in fear, until she recognized the voice of the man he startled her. "matthew!" she scolded in an angry tone. 

matt sat her back down gently, and dropped his head in fake guilt, failing to mask his sly smirk. "sorry, i couldn't pass up an opportunity like that." 

"first of all, fuck you. second of all, 'boo' is crazy." she responded through her laugh and turned to finish her much-needed bowl of sugary cereal. 

matt reached up beside her for a bowl--one from a different set--as a way to ask her for cereal. she filled both up with cereal and milk without a word. 

"i'm too cold for this shit." she mumbled under her breath and padded back into her welcoming bedroom. 

the sky outside was dark, so she turned on her array of string lights and lit a cinnamon scented candle, joining matt who had already climbed into her warm, plush bed. 

"i fucking love this bed." matt groaned out int pleasure, sprawling his limbs out as much as he could without risking spilling milk. 

she took a spoonful of cereal into her mouth and grabbed her tv remote, powering it on. "what do you wanna watch?" 

"gravity falls." he spoke from behind a mouth full of food. 

then, the two just sat in comfortable silence. bob marley playing lowly in the background, the television turned up just loud enough to hear it, wrapped in the comfort of her sheets. 

cereal bowls placed on her nightstand with care, the two cuddled into each other, legs tangled as she hugged his torso, head laying on his chest. 

they both recognized the palpable tension that followed them everywhere. they both knew there was something there. something unspoken. 

but that it what it remained--unspoken. neither took any action, too afraid of the outcome. 

matt glanced down at her, watching her eyelashes bat as she blinked, focused intently on the screen. however, as if she could tell, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. 

panicking, he looked back at the tv screen, urging himself to breathe normally. 

she stood up, a faint smirk painted on her beautiful face. "i have a great idea!" she said proudly, spinning to unlock one of her many windows to open it slightly. 

matt watched her intently as she bent over to look in the drawers of her nightstand, pulling out the essentials for a joint. "there's a reason we get along so well." he responded happily. 

she took mock offense. "what, its not my winning personality?"

"i guess that too."

"i'm gonna go flip the record, will you please roll it?" she asked with big pleading eyes, grinning widely when he nodded his head. 

upon her return, she saw him focused intently on creating the perfectly rolled joint. chewing on her lower lip, she watched as he rolled it tightly between his fingers, stinging his tongue out of his mouth to seal it shut. 

once finished, he held up the small object with a proud smile on his face. she giddily climbed back into the bed, placing the filter end between her lips, and lighting the end. 

she inhaled deeply, ignoring the burning in her throat, and passed it over to matt. 

exhaling, she once again snuggled into his side, craving his warmth. 

they passed the drug back and forth, enjoying the intoxicating feeling swarming their brains. her eyes had dropped down and turned red, and her need to be close to matt grew even stronger. 

at this point she had tuned gravity falls out, instead taking interest in the way the smoke lifted and swirled throughout her room, taking on the color of the few and far between sun rays that filtered through the rainclouds.

the sound of the rain falling against her balcony outside was comforting, nearly as much as matt pressed up against her, his heart beating steadily against her head.

passing it back once more to matt, she looked deeply into his eyes, refusing to look away, other than a quick few glances at his pink lips. she took her own in between her teeth. 

matt took a large hit, thankful for the drug's confidence boost, and brought his free hand up to her face. 

warily, he inched closer to her, pulling her closer with his hand. 

their lips were inches apart when he used his thumb to part them gently, tilting his head and blowing the vapor into her willing lungs. 

her hand snaked up to the back of his neck where she gripped the short hairs, and she exhaled the smoke. 

they paused for a moment, and in a quick decision she grabbed the thoroughly smoked roach, turned to snuff it out in her bedside ash tray, and turned back around to smash her lips against matt's. 

she was filled with the warmth she so desperately craved and needed. she straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, shuttering as he traced up and down her sides and back with his. 

the music playing from the other room was forgotten about along with the cartoon show on the tv. all of their thoughts were consumed by each other. 

slipping his tongue into her mouth, he tilted his head and brought a slender hand up to push her even closer to him, if it was possible. 

they fought over dominance of the kiss, exploring each other's mouths with need, short, breathless whines falling from their throats. 

without hesitation, matt flipped them over completely, so he was laying his weight on top of her.  

Small hands caressed his face and gently tugged on his hair, wet noises making both faces heat up in embarrassment. 

finally, they pulled away to catch their breath, chests heaving and pressing against one another with each intake of breath. both were left speechless, gazing into each other's eyes with starstruck looks of awe and affection. 

it wasn't long before matt leaned back in, this time acting with double the desire, twice the passion as before. 

they made out for what seemed like hours--it probably was--rolling around in her warm bed, impossibly tangling themselves in her cream-colored bedsheets. 

the only breaks they took were to breathe and for short, affectionate conversations which always led back to them shoving their tongues down each other's throats. 

they pulled apart again, still breathing heavily. 

"matt, y'know... i've-i've never liked someone the way i like you.” 

he smiled against her lips, placing a few more longing kisses on them. 

tucking hair behind her ear and holding both sides of her face, he stared intensely into her eyes. 

“i am in love with you, doll.” he confessed truthfully. 

she beamed with joy, her sheepish reaction telling him she felt exactly the same way. 

“even when you have really messy hair and a little bit of dribble on your chin.” he teased and wiped her pointy chin with his slender thumb.

she rolled her droopy eyes and shook her head, her giddy smile never leaving her red, swollen lips “just shut up and kiss me, idiot.” 

[sephirthoughts]

The Ghost of Shinra Manor

Chapter 4 of this

summary: It's been two years-ish since the events of Dirge of Cerberus. Cloud visits his hometown, and investigates a rumor of a ghost, haunting Shinra Manor. If you're surprised by who it turns out to be, you are beyond my power to save, comrade.

tags: g-g-g-ghosts!!! sefikura, sephiroth x cloud, sane!sephiroth (sort of), post advent children, post dirge of cerberus, canon timeline, delusions, intermitten amnesia, low drama, enemies to…whatever the hell they have going on

warnings: references to death, PTSD, child abuse, etc. all of hojo's greatest hits, canon-typical violence

rating: teen and up [BE ADVISED: THIS RATING WILL CHANGE]

Part 4: Resolve

Cloud didn’t check his phone till they were back at the cabin, by which time he’d accumulated a number of alerts.

MISSED CALLS(4): Tifa

MISSED CALL: Barrett

New Messages(5)

He decided to deal with them in order of priority, and opened the messages app first.

Strife: hey what do you know about ghosts

Chadley: Hello, Cloud. It’s good to hear from you. Ghosts aren’t really my area of expertise, unless you’re referring to occurrences of unusual fauna, which are often erroneously reported as ghost sightings. May I ask what this is in regard to?

Strife: like how to identify one and how to get rid of it

Chadley: Hm. There are a number of so-called spirit mediums and exorcists, who claim to be able to detect and communicate with spirits, but since there isn’t an established scientific discipline, I’m afraid the field is fraught with charlatans.

Strife: so there’s no one who knows anything?

Chadley: Don’t lose hope, my friend. It just so happens that an acquaintance of mine is what I would call the world’s foremost lay-expert in spectral phenomena. If there’s anyone who could answer whatever questions you have, it would be him.

Strife: lay-expert?

Chadley: That means he’s highly knowledgeable, but it isn’t his day job.  

Strife: what’s his actual job

Chadley: He works as the concierge for the Haunted Hotel, at the Gold Saucer.

Strife: tell me you’re not talking about that upside-down lunatic bellhop

Chadley: Oh, are you acquainted?

Strife: forget it. i meant someone sane

Chadley: Don’t let his sense of whimsy deter you. That’s his professional persona. He’s actually a very astute and level-headed person. I assure you, there’s no one more knowledgeable in the field.

Strife: really?

Chadley: Indeed. Shall I put you in touch?

Strife: yeah ok

Chadley: Excellent. I’ll give him your contact information. Good luck!

Strife: thanks

Tifa: hey you, just checking in to see how you’re doing. how’s the job going?

Tifa: btw denzy managed to fix that old bike they found. he even rode it around today

Tifa: marley took these pics of him aren’t they cute? .img .img .img

Tifa: good news! i just got off the phone with barrett and he’s going to be in town friday. we’re thinking of having a big bbq dinner for everyone at the bar. you’ll be back by then right?

Strife: won’t be back by friday. something came up i have to deal with

Several minutes passed.

Tifa: i guess there’s nothing you can do when a rush job comes up. when do you think you’ll be back?

Strife: can’t say. could be a while

Tifa: oh i see

Tifa: ok well try not to stay gone too long ok? the kids miss you

Cloud was attempting to formulate a human-sounding reply, when his phone lit up with a new notification.

UNKNOWN: greetings cloud! my name is benjamin hopkins. my friend chadley said you’d like my help with some ghost related information. feel free to give me a call any time, and I’d be happy to assist you however I can.

He stared at his phone screen. A bellhop. Named Benjamin Hopkins. What the fuck ever. Of course that weirdo in the mummy bandages would have a weirdo name.

Sephiroth’s high-school AU version was still wearing the Gold Saucer t-shirt, with the addition of a pair of Cloud’s black jeans, which fit him far too well for Cloud’s liking. At the moment, he was sitting at the camp table, staring into space, because Cloud didn’t have any chores for him to do except wash dishes, and he’d done that already.

“Sephiroth,” Cloud said, giving him a start.

Big, blue-green eyes looked up at him, full of hope and trust. “Yes, sir?”

“If you want something to do, why don’t you go out and chop some firewood, before we’re ass-deep in snow. From the look of things, we’re gonna need it.”

Sephiroth jumped up eagerly. “Yes, sir. How much should I get?”

“Just whatever you can cut while I’m on the phone,” Cloud said carelessly. “The axe is hanging up over there. Shed is behind the cabin. I’ll come check on you, when I’m done with my call.”

“Yes, sir. You can count on me.”

“Sephiroth.”

“Mn?”

“Jacket.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And knock off that sir shit. Call me Cloud.”

“Yes, s—Cloud.”

With a sheepish grin, the boy pulled on the old down jacket Cloud had given him, grabbed the axe, and strode out into the snow, full of determination. Cloud stared at the closed door for a full thirty seconds, after he’d gone, and had to physically shake himself out of the reverie.

Seeing Sephiroth this way was wreaking havoc on his emotional state. The child version had been easy. Similar but unfamiliar. Cloud was able to dissociate him from the mental index he had for Sephiroth, and just see a little boy. The adult version was even easier. He was fully familiar and fit neatly into Cloud’s ‘mortal enemy, hated with the fire of a thousand suns’ index.

The teenaged version was more complicated. This was the Sephiroth who had been his idol and hero, when he was the bullied and ostracized poor kid in this tiny shit town. His reason for never giving up, when things seemed hopeless.

This was the Sephiroth he’d fallen in love with, in the innocent and wholehearted sincerity of childhood. The Sephiroth that a part of him, no matter how forcefully denied and deeply buried, still loved.

He clenched his teeth and swallowed the ache in his throat. If some fragment of himself was still idiotic and delusional enough to harbor anything approaching love for Sephiroth, that was just one more reason to quickly figure out how to end him, once and for all. The sooner the man was gone for good, the better. With fresh resolve, he pulled out his phone and dialed the bellhop’s number.

“Benjamin Hopkins, how can I help you?” said the man’s (not quite as deranged as Cloud remembered) voice.

Cloud sighed audibly. “Is that your real fucking name?”

“No, it’s not,” he retorted. “If you must know, my real name is Subject N-2, and thanks for bringing up that very painful memory. Would you like to talk about ghosts, now?”

“Uh. Sorry,” Cloud muttered. “Is this a good time?”

“Good as any. I’m at work, but it’s a pretty slow day, to tell you the truth, so I’m just hanging around.”

Cloud stifled another sigh. “Did you say that because you’re literally hanging upside-down right now?”

“Eh? Have we met before?”

“Couple years ago. My friends and I were looking for rooms at the hotel. One of them may have been a bit…aggressive.”

“Oh…oh! Are you the little blonde who came in with the giant, the vampire, the cowboy aviator, and a robot cat?”

“I’m impressed you remember us.”

“Ah, ha ha. Mr. Strife, how many times do you think I’ve had an arm-mounted minigun shoved in my face, at my place of employment? Just, ballpark estimate.”

Cloud swallowed. “Is it…one time?”

“Ding ding ding! Correct! Just the one time. So yes, I remember you. A man doesn’t tend to forget that kind of character-defining life and death experience.”

“Sorry about that guy. He has anger issues and trust issues and impulse control issues, and also he’s scared of spooky stuff, so he was acting tough to hide it,” Cloud explained, blithely throwing Barrett under the bus. “But, now that I think of it, I remember you seeming pretty chill about the gun. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Ok, you got me,” the bellhop tittered. “I was exaggerating about the character-defining life and death experience stuff. I’ve been through way worse than that.”

“You have?”

“Yes, yes, it’s all part of my tragic backstory. However! It was highly inappropriate of your friend to threaten a member of the hotel staff with a firearm. Imagine if a normal employee had been the one at the counter, instead. They’d have trauma! I’m sorry to be strict, but for the safety and mental health of the staff and guests, I’m afraid Mr. Barrett Wallace is not welcome on Haunted Hotel premises, until further notice. I hope he takes the opportunity to reflect carefully on his actions.”

“Fair enough. I doubt he’d go back there if you dragged him, anyway.”

“Good. Now that’s settled, let’s talk about your ghost problem. What seems to be the trouble?”

“That’s part of the problem,” Cloud said, feeling a little stupid saying any of this out loud. “I’m not even sure it’s a ghost.”

“Ah, say no more. I happen to have my ‘Got Ghosts?’ checklist handy. Why don’t we go through that, first. More often than not, the phenomena people misidentify as evidence of hauntings are perfectly mundane, explainable things.”

“Um. Ok.”

“Do you have any of the following: shadows or other unexplained movement in your peripheral vision?”

“No.”

“Sensation of falling, while seated or lying down?”

“No.”

“Cold spots in the house?”

“This is Nibelheim. The whole house is a cold spot.”

“I’ll go ahead and check no for that one. Voices laughing, or speaking in whispers/low tones?”

“No.”

“Thinking you hear someone call your name, when alone in the house or with others who deny having done so?”

“No.”

“Scratching or tapping on walls or under floors?”

“No.”

“Sound of footsteps, from empty rooms?”

“No.”

“Lights flickering, or inexplicably being turned off?”

“No.”

“Waking up to the certainty that there is a terrifying presence in the room with you, but unable to move or call for help?”

“No.”

“Pets behaving strangely, and/or interacting with something that is not there?”

“No pets.”

“Objects moved to strange locations, cabinets found open, doors opening or shutting on their own, et cetera?”

“Nope.”

There was a pause. “I’m a little confused, Mr. Strife. If none of these things are occurring, what leads you to believe you might have a ghost?”

“I found a dead person—”

“You found a body??”

“No. Let me finish my sentence, will you? I found a person who I know to be dead, except he’s not acting dead, and he was hanging around in an abandoned basement, naked and crying.”

“He was…that’s uh…wow. A lot to unpack. You’re sure he wasn’t just abducted, and presumed dead? Because, to be honest, that’s kind of what it sounds like.”

“I’m sure. I killed him, myself.”

The bellhop choked audibly. “I—I see. And, uh…the person you found in this basement, who resembles the person you killed—”

“Not resembles. It is him. He answers to his name and knew where he was. But he doesn’t remember me. He seems to be having some kind of weird amnesia, where he’s only getting parts of his memory back.”

“And, um. Not to belabor a point,” the bellhop said gingerly, “but, what makes you think he’s a ghost? I mean, apart from the fact that you claim to have killed him and are definitely one-hundred percent certain that he did actually die.”

“He’s pale. Like, corpse pale. His body is ice-cold. All of it gets kind of transparent, sometimes, but mostly his hands and feet. He has trouble touching things, without his fingers going right through them. And sometimes, when he talks, he fades in and out, like a radio.”

The sound of a pencil scratching, from the other end of the line said enough, so Cloud continued.

“Normal lighting hurts his eyes, so I have to use a gas lantern or just the fireplace. He doesn’t seem to see very well, or maybe he’s just seeing things that aren’t real. Less than two hours ago, I watched him walk straight through a solid wall of stone that he insisted wasn’t there. Also, when I found him yesterday, he was an adult. When I woke up this morning, he was a little kid. Now he’s a teenager.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Mr. Strife—”

“Cloud.”

“Cloud. If you would go this far, just to play some kind of mean-spirited prank—”

“Do I seem like the type of person who plays pranks, Benjamin?”

“Not really,” he conceded. “If anything, you seem to be the 'broody edgelord who takes himself way too seriously' type.”

“That’s not…inaccurate. So, can you help me, or not?”

Benjamin let out a long breath. “Hoo, boy. Let me be honest with you, I thought I was prepared, but none of my usual checklists cover anything like this. That said, your guy actually sounds a lot like a ghost. There are inconsistencies, but if what you’re telling me is the truth, I can’t think of any other explanation. Um. Let me look something up, real quick.”

“Sure, take your time.”

There was another lengthy pause in which Benjamin muttered to himself and Cloud heard pages turning.

“Alright, found it. So, the Cetra believed that the spirits of human beings could be temporarily unable to enter the lifestream, for a number of different reasons. A spirit can’t inhabit its dead body, though, so they show up as disembodied entities, mostly resembling intangible wisps of light. These are what people would commonly call ghosts.”

“But mine’s not an intangible wisp, or whatever,” Cloud pointed out. “He’s actually pretty solid. I even carried him a few times.”

“Right. Hence the inconsistency. The only stories of ghosts being able to take physical bodies and walk around interacting with living people, are from ancient oral traditions, and those were supposedly the spirits of demigods.”

“Ok, back up. Forget about the body thing, for now. What are the reasons someone could be unable to enter the lifestream?”

“Strong resentment, unfinished business, promises to keep—any kind of attachment so strong that it keeps them hanging on, past their time.”

“So, if it was that, what would we do about it?”

“Supposedly, the attachment has to be resolved, then the spirit can be freed and enter the lifestream. For humans. For the demigods…that’s a different story. They were considered to be corrupt beings, so they were rejected permanently. Pretty sad, if you ask me.”

“Corrupt how?”

“Well, demigods are the offspring of humans and gods, which is a big ontological no-no. Gods can’t die, and can’t enter the lifestream, but that’s a whole other thing. The children of an eternal god and a mortal human, therefore, are stuck between worlds. Their bodies can die, but their spirits can’t ascend to godhood, and they can’t join the lifestream either, so they just linger. Some of them go mad and turn into malicious entities, that spread plague and disaster and war, and some just gradually lose themselves, fading but never disappearing. Like Zeno’s paradox, but with existence, instead of infinitely shrinking distances.”

“Shit. That is pretty sad.”

“Yeah, man. Have you studied any mythology? Like, ninety percent of it is a huge bummer.”

“There’s another thing. I attacked him with a sword, when I first saw him. He wasn’t hurt at all, but the attacks backlashed on me, really badly. I’m still recovering from the internal injuries. What could cause that?”

“Huh,” Benjamin said thoughtfully. “A sword attack certainly shouldn’t be able to harm a ghost, but how does it backlash?”

“It wasn’t the blade I hit him with. It was a directed energy spell, using the blade as a catalyst.”

“You used a mana-based attack on the alleged ghost, and it backlashed on you? Holy shit.”

“What?”

“Well, in my experience—I mean, my experience researching ghost-related phenomena, obviously—untethered human souls are extremely fragile. An energy spell should have scattered it, if not destroyed it completely. I’ve never heard of one defending itself, let alone being able to harm a living person.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. So, to be on the safe side, maybe don’t do that anymore. In the meantime, are there any other extremely significant details that you haven’t bothered to bring up, yet? Because, I’d really like to just hear it all at once, if that’s ok.”

“Just a few things. He has these memory flashbacks, he gets caught in. He can bring me into them, but he doesn’t know how. It’s happened a few times. Also, when we were sleeping, last night, I dreamed a bunch of random pieces of his memories.”

“You believe he’s a ghost, and you went to sleep, in the same room with him?”

“I just said sleeping. Why do you assume we were in the same room?”

“Were you?”

“Yes. What does it matter?”

“I’m impressed, is all. You’re a different breed than most huma—ahem—most people, aren’t you.”

“He was a lot scarier alive. That’s why I want to figure out how to kill him permanently, as soon as possible.”

“Without killing yourself along with him, you mean.”

“Sure.”

“O…kay. Anything else you haven’t mentioned?”

Cloud opened his mouth to tell Benjamin about the pain in his chest, that had been growing since he approached Nibelheim, and how it had gotten unbearable when Sephiroth started to fade, earlier, but for some reason, he became extremely reluctant to talk about it. “Uh. No, that’s all.”

“Alrighty,” Benjamin said cheerfully. “I’m gonna have to do a little research and get back to you, because, um. Ha ha. I’ve never heard of anything like this situation, in my life.”

“Right. Well, thanks for doing this. I appreciate it.”

“Anything for a friend of Chadley. Hey, just out of curiosity, where’s your ghost, now? You didn’t talk about all of this in front of him, right?”

“No, I sent him out to chop firewood, so we could talk.”

“You sent him to chop firewood. And he just…obeyed you?”

“Yeah. He’s been cooperative, the whole time.”

“Wow. Are you sure you don’t want to keep him? Joking, joking. Oop, got some customers. It was nice talking to you! Bye!”

“See ya,” Cloud replied, but the man had already hung up.

What a strange person. Which, upon mature consideration, was rather unsurprising, for an upside-down bellhop at the Haunted Hotel, who dressed like a mummy for work, and studied ghosts in his free time. Despite all that, Cloud felt inclined to trust him. There was something familiar and reliable, in his aura. Like they’d already known each other.

Cloud’s hyper-tuned hearing didn’t detect any chopping, outside the cabin, so he went out to see how Sephiroth was faring. Fat snowflakes were falling heavily, and the world was still and silent, the way it only gets, when everything is muffled under several inches of snow.

Sephiroth was nowhere in sight, so Cloud went around to the back and stopped short. The woodshed door was wide open, and what appeared to be smoke was billowing out into the cold air.

“Fuck—Sephiroth!” he exclaimed, dashing for the shed.

The boy popped his head out. “Cloud? What’s wrong?”

“What’s going on?” Cloud asked, confused. “What is all this…steam?”

“I filled the shed all the way up, and now I’m using a desiccation spell, to dry the wood out, so it’ll burn better and it won’t rot,” Sephiroth explained brightly.

Cloud peered into the shed, and saw the neatly and tightly stacked wood, already split and free of twigs and foliage. Sure enough, there was a thin layer of yellowish light on all of it, and it was cheerfully releasing steam, like a huge stack of fresh baked buns.

“What about the wood that was already in here?”

“I moved it all to the woodpile, at the front of the cabin.” Misunderstanding Cloud’s expression, Sephiroth’s face fell, “I—I’m sorry, I know you didn’t tell me to do that, but I thought—”

“No, it’s ok,” Cloud interrupted. “I was just surprised that you worked so fast. You did everything right. Good job.”

The beautiful boy lit up like a firework, at that little bit of praise, nearly annihilating Cloud on the spot.

His cheeks and nose were touched with pink, from all the exercise in the cold, which only made him look even sweeter and more innocent, as he beamed up at him. If only he could’ve stayed this way. If only he hadn’t been tortured and horribly abused, until he became the very monster he’d always feared he was.

The moment his heart began to soften, a surge of black bitterness rose up in Cloud’s throat to choke him. How could Sephiroth ever have been like this? He was always beautiful, but he couldn’t have been innocent and sweet, even at this age. He was already a cold-blooded killer, after all. It must be a deception, to manipulate him.

“You look sad,” Sephiroth said. “Is everything alright?”

“You’re turning pink.”

“Am I?” Sephiroth reached up to touch his cheeks, self-consciously.

“Yeah. But why?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re dead,” Cloud said flatly. “You don’t have blood. So how would your cheeks flush from being cold?”

The boy’s eyes suddenly went hazy and unfocused. “I’m…I’m dead.”

Sure enough, the flush of color drained from his face, leaving his skin waxen white; so translucent, that his veins were visible in his cheeks, as faint, bluish lines. His whole person seemed to wither, and become greyer and duller.

Cloud immediately regretted listening to that bitter part of himself, and lashing out at the boy. Whatever evil Sephiroth had done, this child hadn’t done it, yet.

“Seph…I’m sorry,” he said, gingerly patting the boy’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have talked to you that way.”

Sephiroth’s skin instantly began to brighten, again, and that dead, grey cast fell away. But now his eyes were dewy and pink-rimmed. “Wh—why did you call me that?”

“What?”

“You called me Seph.”

“Isn’t that how people usually shorten your name?”

“I don’t know.” Two big, round tears rolled down his rosy cheeks. “No one ever has.”

Cloud was utterly at a loss, so he just patted the boy’s shoulder again. “Come on, don’t cry. Let’s go inside. You’re covered in snow.”

They hung up their coats on the hooks by the door, and kicked the snow off their boots, which they set by the fire, to dry. While Sephiroth put more wood on, Cloud was assessing the food supply, in case this storm lasted a while. He wasn’t too worried, though. He’d stocked up well on canned and dry goods, had plenty of fish in the freezer, and could always hunt.

It was no problem for him to traverse the route into town in extreme weather, but that wouldn’t do a lot of good if the town was too snowed in to function. If worse came to worst, he’d go over and clear the main roads. That was work that would be long and arduous for an entire crew of regular people, but with his strength and fire spells, wasn’t even difficult. He’d done it before.

While Sephiroth was bathing, Cloud toasted up some simple, grilled cheese sandwiches, on the skillet, which he cut into triangles. Then he got out a saucepan and began to heat up some milk.

The heavy snow put him in mind of winters with his mother, in their little house, and the rare luxury that was hot cocoa. He didn’t have peppermint sticks or marshmallows, so he sprinkled a little cinnamon on top.

He was just pouring it into the mugs, when Sephiroth came out, in those old sweatpants and another of Cloud’s t-shirts. He’d pulled his damp, chin-length hair back into a mini-ponytail at the base of his skull, which looked ridiculously cute.

“Dinner,” Cloud said.

Sephiroth sat dutifully at the camp table. “What’s this brown stuff?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at the mug Cloud set in front of him.

“Cinnamon.”

“And we drink it?”

“If you want. You don’t have to.”

Sephiroth reached for the mug, which his solid-looking fingers picked up with no trouble. Putting it to his lips, he took a cautious little sip. He froze for a beat. Then his eyes went round and starry and he sucked down every last drop of the warm, creamy cocoa, smacking his lips and ‘mm-ing’ delightedly between slurps.

Cloud nearly spit his own cocoa out, laughing, at the tragic face he made, when he realized his mug was empty. “You like it, huh?”

Sephiroth nodded vigorously. “Mn! I love it! I want to drink cinnamon all the time!”

“It’s called hot cocoa,” Cloud corrected. “Cinnamon is just the stuff sprinkled on top.”

“Hot cocoa,” Sephiroth repeated. “What is it made of?”

“My mom made it with chopped up chocolate and sugar, but I just use the tinned mix. There’s more in the saucepan, if you want.”

Sephiroth’s expression became grave. “Your mother taught you to make this?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re sharing it with me?”

“Looks that way.”

“Thank you,” Sephiroth said, dipping his head, as Cloud poured more cocoa into his mug. “I feel very honored.”

“It’s just hot cocoa. I’m sure everyone’s moms made it for them.”

“My mother…would have made this for me?”

“Probably.”

Sephiroth fell silent, looking reverent and reflective, as he slowly sipped the cocoa, this time, carefully savoring every mouthful, seemingly lost in his own little world. He didn’t touch the grilled cheese, but Cloud hadn’t expected him to. He was surprised enough that the boy was able to drink the cocoa. He ate both grilled cheese sandwiches, himself, without remarking on it, then went to take his shower.

When he came out again, Sephiroth had washed the dishes and tidied up the kitchen. Cloud had never thought of Sephiroth as someone who would be able or willing to undertake such mundane tasks. He’d only seen the lofty and beautiful hero, standing at the vanguard, sword in hand, sweeping away enemies like chaff on the wind.

This ghost, however, was turning out to be quite the cheerful little domestic helper, willing to do whatever task was at hand, and very good at everything he put is hand to. He’d even piled more wood onto the fire, swept the floor, and tied up the garbage in a neat little bundle, by the door, to be carried away.

Cloud lay down in his bed, but seeing the teenaged boy curled up on the rug, by the fire, wrapped in his one blanket, was too much for his conscience.

“Seph,” he said. “It’s too cold to sleep on the floor. We can share the bed.”

The boy looked up timidly. “Are…are you sure?”

“Yeah, come on. If you get sick, it’ll just be more trouble for me.”

Thus reassured, Sephiroth hurried over in his blanket and threw it over the top of the others, then shimmied in under the covers.

“Oh,” he breathed. “Your bed is so soft!”

Cloud squinted. “Is it?”

“It’s the softest bed I’ve ever been in! It’s amazing!”

“It’s just a futon on a wood frame.”

“What’s a futon?”

“It’s um…a Wutaian mattress.”

For what seemed like a very long time, Cloud lay stiffly on his back, staring up at firelight dancing on the ceiling, and carefully avoiding touching the boy, who was writhing and wriggling about, like he had fleas. At long last, he seemed to get comfortable and settle down. But just as Cloud was closing his eyes to drift off—

“Cloud?”

“Hm.”

“Why does your hair stick up like that, but mine hangs down?”

“Dunno. This is just the way it is.”

“Can I…can I touch it?”

Cloud eyed him dubiously. “Can you touch it? I mean…I don’t know why you want to, but I guess so.”

Sephiroth reached out and delicately prodded the blonde spikes. “It feels just like my hair. I thought it would be more like goat hair.”

“What? Why goat hair?” Cloud scowled.

Sephiroth grinned and kept petting his head, absently scooting closer, till their knees touched.

Cloud’s stomach fluttered nervously, in spite of himself. Yes, he was an adult now, but this was his first love, after all. In his mind, he was suddenly eleven years old again, gazing at a Shinra recruitment poster he’d kept secreted away in his bedroom, daydreaming about what it would feel like to kiss those perfect lips.

“Ok, time to sleep,” he said abruptly, turning onto his side, with his back to Sephiroth.

“Goodnight, Cloud,” Sephiroth whispered, after a few minutes had passed.

“Goodnight, Seph. Now, no more talking.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY credit to @soundcrusher for the bellhop's name and backstory, which they let me borrow for this fic 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

ao3

[yetisidelblog]

@upontheshelfreviews

@greenwingspino

@one-time-i-dreamt

@tenaflyviper

@akron-squirrel

@ifihadaworldofmyown

@justice-for-jacob-marley

@voicetalentbrendan

@thebigdeepcheatsy

@what-is-my-aesthetic

@ravenlynclemens

@writerofweird

@bogleech

[waveofstars]

Marley had met authors in the past whether through her profession or setting up book signings at her aunt’s bookshop. Still, the excitement hit her once he confirmed her suspicions. She recalled seeing a few of his books proudly on display at the bookshop and she had even read one or two. It wasn’t often to be sitting in the presence of someone she quietly admired. “No kidding,” her Scottish accent came out thick at her sudden burst of realization. “I’m familiar with your work. You’re very talented.” She sat up and faced him more, her whole attention solely focused on him now. 

What were the odds she was using this time to delve into writing just to discover she was next door to a writer? She felt as if she had been plopped right into the plot of some romance movie that her late aunt would’ve obsessed over. Marley liked to think that woman had her hand involved in this little act of fate. By all means, Marley had every intention to keep things strictly professional… but the sound of wine and spending time together had her heart fluttering like it was something else entirely. “I’ll never say no to wine.” Or tea for that matter, but something about wine with Simon felt right. She smiled. “Thank you. I would really enjoy picking your brain. And hey, if you ever write a book that deals with astronomy or astrophysics… I’m your gal.” She laughed at the thought, because more than likely her services wouldn’t be needed by him, but a woman could dream.

"Really? It's a beautiful place." Simon admired the part of the house that was visible, he had noticed the front on his arrival and had wished that house was available for renting instead of the one he had. It had character, like it had been lived on and enjoyed; his was quite pristine, obviously had a make over to make it look modern and minimalist. Very clinical, sterilized and little inspiring. No history out or inside. While he was not fan of beaches, Simon thought he'd keep an eye open for the house next door to possibly buy it, if not for living in there, to have it available in case he needed or rent it for some profit. "I'm sure people might jump at the opportunity."

When Marley mention she wrote his curiosity perked even more, an academic trying to get back to creative writing... she'd be quickly going after his heart if Simon was looking out for that. He was about to offer rhishelp even if he had his own schedule and struggles to write but he wasn't able to not offer help if he had the knowledge to share, his time teaching in college and all his published essays would mean nothing if he didn't at least offer a hand. It'd be up to Marley to accept it or not. However, before he could utter a word, the redhead asked about his profession and Simon chuckled bashfully. "Ah, yes, I am." His thrillers were always on  to-be-read lists, which made him proud, his essays on literature were less purchased but his articles on politics and society were also out there. "Im staying for some time so if you need help with creative writing I wouldn't mind getting together and talk about it over some tea. Or wine." He smiled.

[tw0ism]

SAN FRANCISCO, DOUBLE DUTCH DISCO, TECH

TV HOTTIE, DO IT FOR SCOTTY! /lyr

misha , marley , or jules ... they it!

fre/eng ... 3teen ✦ audhd + depression + bpd :: artist + editor

hyperfixation ... moomins

dni , links , & other stuff under the cut!

⛱️ dni if ... ⛱️

pro/com/darkshipper,

basic criteria

rarepair/crackship hater

anti-neopronoun

anti-selfship/anti-oc x canon

yandev supporter

c0untryhumans fan

discourse blog

nsfw/kink/fetish blog

israel/russia supporter or are anti-ukraine/anti-palestine

🏝️ PLEASE int if ... 🏝️

total drama fan

moomin fan

PAHKITEW ISLAND ENJOYERS please........... /nf

rarepair/crackship shippers

selfshipper/fictionkins/oc x canon people idk ur all so cool!!

people who just arent dicks idk?

other nd people :)

people who like sharks or just marine biology in general

also just an extra thing i think is kinda important uh YES i am a minor but i dont mind if people 18+ interact with/follow me just dont be weird okay 👍 were all friends here at the end of the day

LINKS ...! 01 02 03 04

[deafmangoes]

Courtesy of myself and my wife, for your consideration:

Scrooge, But Instead Of Greed It's About Having The Biggest Tits.

~~~

[INT: Scrooge's home, Marley, with Big Naturals, has breastfed boobily through the locked door.]

Marley: "Yours were as heavy as mine seven Christmases ago, and you have laboured on them since! They are ponderous breasts, Ebenezer!"

~~~

[EXT: A churchyard, Scrooge stands before the Ghost of Christmas Present, who open his robe to reveal a large set of knockers.]

Scrooge: "Are they yours, Spirit?"

Ghost: "They are mankind's!" (Gripping each in turn:) "This is Ignorance, and this is Want!"

~~~

[EXT: The street outside Scrooge's home. The bells are ringing out for Christmas day. A small child passes under the window.]

Scrooge: "You there, boy, do you know the plastic surgeon's in the next street but one?"

Boy: "I should hope so!"

Scrooge: "Have they sold the XXXL silicones that were hanging in the window?"

Boy: "What, the ones as big as me?"

Scrooge: "Go and buy them!" (Aside:) "I'll send them to Bob Cratchit! They're twice the size of Tiny Tim!"

~~~

Is this anything

[americana-sims]

When I learn how to use Andrew's Poseplayer its OVER for you bitches‼️

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

INT. MARLEY'S STUDIO - NIGHT

Dylan barges into Marley's studio, finding them in a messy state surrounded by empty bottles, drugs, and art supplies.

DYLAN: Marley, what the hell is going on?

Marley looks up, startled by Dylan's sudden appearance. They quickly try to gather their things, attempting to hide the drugs and bottles behind the canvases.

MARLEY: What are you doing here, Dylan? I'm working.

DYLAN: Working? You call this working? You're high, Marley. You promised me you wouldn't do this again.

MARLEY: I can't help it, Dylan. You don't understand what it's like in my head. The drugs are the only way I can... look, just fucking forget it, okay?

DYLAN: You can what? Marley, what are you talking about?

MARLEY: The voices in my head, Dylan. They won't stop. They keep telling me that I'm not good enough, that my art is crap, that no one loves me. I can't take it anymore.

Marley tries desperately not to cry, dropping into a squat on the floor and hiding his face in his hands. Dylan is taken aback by Marley's confession. He realizes that Marley is struggling with much more than just drug addiction.

DYLAN: Marley, why didn't you tell me about this? I'm your best friend. I'm here for you.

MARLEY: I was scared, Dylan. Scared that you would judge me, or worse, leave me. I didn't want you to see me like this.

DYLAN: Marley, I could never leave you. You're my best friend, my family. I love you.

Marley breaks down, tears streaming down their face.

MARLEY: I love you too, Dylan. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Dylan holds Marley as they cry, both of them realizing that they need each other now more than ever.

[giselle-archive]

I love that idea, Marls. It would be a great benefit to those in need, or who can't afford much. Hopefully Ms. Sylvester sees the good this could do and is okay with it.

You know what? We should totally do it! Community service meets fashion. I bet we could recruit others to help. Even though I’m super nervous about talking to her, I’ll work up something to send to Ms. Sylvester.

[waveofstars]

@mournfulminds​ liked for a holiday starter !!

Her classes had come to an end for the year, though usually that did not mean the woman took a break. She often worked on her research and stayed in contact with scientists across the globe. For the first time in a long time, she truly took the time off for the hell of it. Except, it wasn’t just the hell of it. Marley was determined to give Seobin a magical weekend. She had promised her that night under the stars that she’d plan a night for her just like the woman had done for herself. A night turned into a weekend, and suddenly her plans were grand and a little much. Marley didn’t mind it, though. It was exactly what she wanted. 

The holidays could often be a stressful time for some, but Marley wanted to soak in some beauty in the winter with Seobin - even just for a weekend. She rented a cabin in the woods for the two of them, and perhaps if it was any other time of year it might’ve been unsettling to be out there in the woods. The snow blanketed the area and brought a beauty and stillness to it all. It looked magical and inviting. Marley pulled up to it after a long drive and smiled happily at the sight of it. She was already imagining sitting by the fire with her and watching the snowfall from the windows. “Surprise,” she told her. No matter how much Seobin wanted to know the details, Marley hadn’t shared anything other than pack a bag of warm clothes. “That’s home for the weekend. I thought we deserved a little holiday getaway… Am I crazy or is it a good idea?”

[deesmu]

“Noo, dude!” Avery all but whines, her shoulders slacking forward as she hangs her head. “Marley, do not make this a thing. It’s not a thing it’s... like glorified karaoke.” She sighs, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Don’t come. Please?”

@leighmu