#will happen eventually trust me

[royalarchivist]

Pac: I can't keep doing this, I can't do this– [Laughs] I can't do this anymore— What is this, man?!

If you didn't see Pac suffering in Sims earlier today, here's a (translated & subtitled) compilation of some silly Sims Hideduo moments that made poor Pac look like he was questioning all his life choices.

[emptymilk-bottle]

oh anya we’re really in it now…

[youngpettyqueen]

I know the decision to have Julian's parents have him augmented was made on the fly but imo its pretty obvious from early on that Julian has Family Issues because he avoids talking about his family like the plague and I think they should've incorporated this into the Julian and Sisko dynamic right from early on because I think it would've made for some really compelling stories and moments and could've set up a REALLY interesting Julian and Jake dynamic which they kinda started to do but never fully went for

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 1

There is a universe, somehow, where everything aligned just perfectly and left four desperate children on Silco's doorstep. A universe where Piltover is just a bit more ruthless: where Vander's connections aren't trustworthy and where his foolish sentimentality wins.

Vander's arrested, in Vi's place. He's so proud of her for trying to do the right thing - but he'll not make a sacrifice out of Felicia's daughter. The violence in the streets has to stop and Piltover won't stop until it has someone to blame for the theft. So the Hound becomes a sacrificial lamb.

But remember, his agreements are flimsier, and the trust between enforcer and undercity is as thin as the razor blade Mylo keeps in his pocket. The gold-trimmed enforcers aren't happy with a Hound dressed in wool - they want the girl. The one Jayce identified. Some pink-haired snot-nosed filthy brat. The thief. The terrorist.

They labeled her a terrorist: Vi. For a near-harmless explosion in a district she would've been beaten in, just for the grime in her hair.

And the Hound won't have that.

For the second time in his life, Vander's knuckles are stained with enforcer blood and the undercity begins to burn. Vi's next to him, eager to fight, but scared. She's just a kid after all. Always eager. Always scared.

Claggor, Mylo, and Powder come running as they limp back to the Last Drop. Powder's too busy crying into Vi's shirt to pay much attention to the screams outside. Reinforcements are just a few minutes away. The rats of the undercity retreat to spare themselves from the brutality beneath an enforcer's heel and the streets grow quieter and quieter. They all know how to slip away when the time demands it, but this is more than sneaking through the sewers and waiting for the storm to pass.

The enforcers, the council, Piltover: they'll keep coming. The blood on Vander and Vi's hands ensures that much. And they don't want him -

He looks to where Vi is hugging Powder back, a: "Sorry Powpow," being breathed. "Didn't mean to scare you -"

He can't let that happen. He can make himself the bigger problem - the biggest threat and that will buy the kids time and give those rich bastards a victory.

But then... it'll just be them.

Claggor's strong, Mylo's sly, Powder's clever, and Vi is brave. They're all tough as nails and they'll make it. At least until this underbelly starts ripping itself around. Vander's a smart man who knows what will happen in his absence, the cannibalistic tendencies of desperate people who need scapegoats.

And Vi's already willing to play the martyr. She proved that much. No, if he leaves he needs to leave them with something. Anything. Something that's as willing to fight for their future as...

That's when he gets the terrible idea. Right around the same time he hears the tell-tale racket of enforcers running down cobblestone. He grabs a bar napkin, and Claggor bars the door. He fumbles messily around for a piece of graphite or a damned pen.

Vi pushes Powder behind her and grabs a half-empty bottle from a table. There's a shatter as she arms herself with razor glass. These kids are well versed at making weapons, they have to be.

They'll only get better at it if he finishes this note. He's signing their lives away to a different demon. There's no guarantee they'll live long enough to give him the note. It's a terrible idea -

"I'll never betray Zaun's children"

Powder's climbing behind the bar with him, clinging to his leg. Mylo climbs over the other side, fiddling with a collection of rusty steak knives. Claggor's grabbed a chair and broke it, two wooden beams in either hand.

Suffocating in the streets is better than dying on a bridge.

"Take this," he gives it to Vi before slipping on his knuckles. "Find Silco. Ask around, and he'll find you."

"What?" it's a challenge from her. She's ready to fight to keep what she has.

She doesn't realize that every fight comes with a loss. And eventually, it's going to take everything from her. Once you bloody those knuckles you never stop - not really.

But not today. Today it'll only take him, and hopefully, she'll remember what they talked about. She'll remember that despite this shitshow - he's proud of her for finding a peaceful solution. He's proud of her for putting down those fists.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let her go.

"Take care of each other," he orders slipping on his other gauntlet. Mylo and Powder stare at him with wide eyes. Claggor's lip is trembling.

"Remember. Remember, to look out for each other!" he orders.

"No!" Powder seems to understand now as Vander pulls the bracings away from the door. She scrambles over the bar with a muffled wail. Mylo stops her right as Vander throws the door open.

"Vander!" Vi screams, but the hound is loose.

He's in the streets and he's set about making these fools remember why they follow the light. Why they fear the undercity so badly they chase its children to sate their fury. Dark things live in the undercity. Zaun's children are raised in air so heavy it turns their lungs to iron. Her streets sharpen their teeth and build calluses over their knuckles until the only thing they feel is the warm crimson in their wake.

Vander had hoped he'd never do this - be this. But jaws shatter under his fist faster than glasses fill with his whiskey. He's good at this. Always has been. The kids slip away - he knows that much.

Everything else is a bit of a blur. He glimpses Ekko, once, on the rooftops. The boy heads after the other four and Vander is thankful for that. Benzo didn't survive the first wave... he doesn't have much chance to reflect on that because there's another enforcer in his grip and a new scream in the air.

He buys the kids plenty of time. Too much time.

Enough time for all of Zaun to hear the news: the Hound's fighting back! Five enforcers are dead! Six! Ten! Enough time for Vi and Mylo to find their informants.

Silco isn't exactly a subtle name. He's well hidden, that's true, but a familiar blond limped his way over to one of the abandoned warehouses after Vi kicked the shit out of him. Word on the street is that he's in with someone named Silco. Doesn't mean much to the informant or to Vi.

It's enough. They slip into one of Zaun's many industrial districts just as Vander finally falls.

Piltover's attack dogs got him - they would eventually, he knew that much. A wild hound is fierce but numbers always win. Part of him's happy to die on familiar cobblestones. Better than the cool stone of prison - better than anything Piltover had in mind for him. This way, the kids would know what happened to him. They wouldn't do anything stupid.

Well... they'd probably still do some stupid things. He coughed out a laugh, blood hacking out of his lungs as it all began to fade. Good. They deserved to be a bit stupid. They were kids...

Just kids.

Hopefully, Silco remembers that...

Silco? Oh, Silco remembers. He'd been making a plan revolving around that. Kids are foolish. Kids are loyal. Children are painfully easy to manipulate and kill. Children are easy to make disappear.

Killing Vander and his children was quite literally on his upcoming schedule. It was going to be a glorious sort of revenge, making Vander watch it happen - helpless to stop it as he drowned in his own pacifism. It was going to be inhumane. The final nail in Silco's old coffin.

So pardon him for taking a moment to stare at the victims delivered to his doorstep. Half of him wants to laugh. The other half feels like he's been shoved back into that damn river.

The children only stare back, wide-eyed and curious. Scared too... haunted in some wonderfully poetic way.

"Can I help you?" Silco demands cooly after his disbelief has been satiated.

The pink one steps forward, naturally. She's Vander's little favorite, his poster child: basically a replica. Taking charge is probably laced in her veins.

She hands him a napkin.

"He told us to come here," she breathes, and it almost sounds like a prayer.

Silco cannot focus on anything but the napkin.

"Well... not here," the wily boy in the back disagrees slowly as he gives a scathing glance to a dead mouse in the corner. "He told us to find you."

Silco watches them carefully and then unfolds the napkin. If this is a trap it's ridiculous and definitely not Vander's idea. Perhaps these children are simply suicidal - or stupid.

He reads it.

Pauses. Reads it again.

He glances to that pink one again: Violet. Felicia's daughter. The other one is to her right, clinging to the elder's bruised knuckles. Powder... right?

Mylo. And Claggor.

Vander's children.

Vander's children!

He reads it one more time.

"It is kind of messy," Claggor's sheepish tone contradicts his appearance sharply. "He was in a rush -"

"I can read it," Silco snarls. He whirls around and plunges further into the bowels of the warehouse.

The children follow, blindly. Because they were told to. They follow the devil into his den because Vander told them to.

Why Silco let them, he'll never be able to explain. Never. Why he didn't finish was Vander started: destroy all remnants of their old life, including those damned children - he'll never say.

He can't. Because Vander sent him his children and a note. It changes nothing.

Except it changes everything.

[superbat-lmao]

When Damian first joins the family, he is unaware of the bargain.

All parties must be in agreement to expand the list of members, and at first, Jason and Tim were concerned about whether Damian was trustworthy. Dick thought it would be a good show of trust, but had been outvoted.

When Damian found out about it, the circumstances were dire. On of the goons had a heart condition, and even non-lethal force had been enough. In the report, he had died of complications and pre existing conditions. Damian had no way of knowing that, but Bruce would not see it that way.

It was Dick who approached him.

“Trust me. It’ll be okay. It’s just a conversation, you’ll see.”

He’d taken them both to a cafe in Metropolis.

“Clark owes me a few favors. Keeping Batman from listening, and not listening himself, are relatively easy ways to fulfill them.”

Jason and Tim were waiting for them. Damian bristled, not expecting the two of them and their attempts at civil appearances.

“What is this?”

Jason and Tim didn’t look amused and waited for them to sit down. Dick sighed, realizing they would be no help.

“First off. This is a neutral space. No information from this conversation will be shared to any party not immediately present, used as a means of threatening another party present, or discussed in locations that are susceptible to the information being discovered by another party. Damian, before we continue, you must agree to those rules. Jason, Tim and myself have abided by them for several years. There are more stringent rules around the information we will discuss, but this general basis must be agreed to before we continue. You may opt out if you wish and we can head back to the manor.”

Damian wrestled with his decision but little of it showed on his face aside from his usual scowl.

On the one hand, information was being kept from him that he could find useful. One the other hand, he would have to enter into an agreement with three dangerous individuals that would know if he went back on his word with any of the information. If Batman was not already privy to this information, there is a reason he does not know it. Damian would be unable to determine how to share the information without knowing how it’s protected.

“… Fine.”

“I need more than that, Damian.”

“I agree to your terms. The information will not be discussed, shared, discoverable, or used as a threat.”

A look passed between the three older vigilantes before Dick blinked and nodded.

“The three of us have a shared agreement regarding information that gets shared with Bruce. Things that would get us in trouble if he found out. There are a couple of rules and stipulations about the types of information, but basically, it boils down the a mutual non-aggression pact.”

Tim cut in quickly.

“In the course of our night jobs, you will make mistakes. Things you couldn’t possible have known about. And rather than allowing Bruce to fixate on things that aren’t preventable and out of our control, we regulate what he knows of those situations.”

Jason sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“When we fuck up and don’t want to get bitched out, we keep secrets from the old man. Early in knowing boy blunder here, we didn’t trust each other. To avoid involving B, we agreed not to rat on each other.”

Damian paused, considering.

“Then you all know what happened to one of the men from patrol a few weeks ago.” There wasn’t a question in Damian’s words, but Dick nodded anyways.

“Yeah, we know about his complications. That’s why we wanted to talk to you. We’ve been debating letting you into the pact since you came to live with B, but we weren’t sure how you’d take it.”

Damian tsk’d.

“You did not believe me trustworthy of such information.”

Tim tilted his head at him and said, “No, we didn’t.”

Damian nodded and thought about his options. If they were to be trusted, presumably they would keep information from Father. However, he would also become complicit in keeping information from Father, information he would not know the nature of until he agreed.

“What is the benefit of such an agreement?”

Jason chuckled and Dick started talking over him.

“We have all agreed to keep this information from Bruce. Meaning, if it looks like he’s getting too close to anything, we step in and help each other prevent that. It also means if we have a situation that arises and we need B to be kept out of it, we contact each other and it’s dealt with in real time.”

Tim nodded, adding “When I was going over files and alerts related to the case from last week I saw the coroner’s report of your guy. I could have altered the records right then and covered up the trail from the beginning. We have our own protocols for dealing with B and shared resources.”

“What is it that prevents this information from being shared?”

“Mutually assured destruction,” Jason said coolly.

“What Jason means,” Dick interjected, glaring, “is that the severity of the information is enough. As much as Tim or Jason doesn’t want B to know something, neither do I. If all of us work together, we’re good enough to keep it from him. The threat of any of us failing is enough of a deterrent because it would mean our own secrets coming to light. All information shared is of equal severity.”

Damian blinked, momentarily stunned.

“There is no punishment to ensure compliance?”

“Nothing aside from whatever B’s reaction to the information will be. And perhaps his reaction to finding out we kept it from him, if he figures that part out.”

All things considered, it was a fair deal. Not as secure as Damian would like, but better than nothing.

“I will require time to think about this proposal. But my original agreement stands. Will this be enough to ensure that the coroner’s report will remain in its current form or must I provide additional proof?”

“No, that’s alright. We’ll meet back up two weeks from now, we’ll need your answer by then.”

[coldflash-corner]

Speaking of Barry being able to read Leonard Snart scarily well, imagine that Barry notices how Snart reacts to people Barry knows, and files that away in his opinions of that person

Barry is in the cortex with someone he finds kind of annoying but harmless, Snart walks in for Definitely-Not-Flirting-While-Doing-Business Reasons, and starts lowkey acting like this guy is an Immediate Threat that he's trying to act cool around to not set him off. And Barry immediately knocks like 5 points off of the "how much do i trust this guy" ranking. Subtly starts telling him less things, looks into what he's doing on the downlow, treats him as potentially suspicious And turns out... The guy does have bad intentions

Leonard comes in and meets some of Barry's new friends/coworkers, and clearly seems to mark one of them as more trustworthy/less of a threat than everyone else. And when Barry needs help or someone to confide in, he goes to that person over everyone else

Barry comes in to Saints and Sinners and sees a regular he's run into before, but hasn't seen interact with Snart. He thought the guy might be pretty cool. But today he walks into them talking, and Immediately sees that Snart is closed off, jumpy, does NOT like that guy in his space. And Barry immediately takes cues off of that, turns the guy down when he later asks to have drinks together next time Barry drops by Saints

If Snart seems unnerved by someone Barry knows, Barry trusts his instincts. Even if Leonard never says anything to Barry out loud, he still takes note of that. If Snart likes someone, or just thinks they're reliable, Barry will trust that instinct.

Even if Snart doesn't say his feelings out loud, Barry trusts him so innately that he will listen to Snart's instincts when it's clear he's feeling a type of way

[felicitykings]

DARK (2017-2020)

[samanthamulder]

THE X-FILES (1993-2018)

SEASON EIGHT — I will go on record to say this: that I have seen things that I cannot explain. I have observed phenomena that I cannot deny. And that as a scientist and a serious person it is a badge of honor not to dismiss these things because someone thinks they're BS.

[the-witch-in-the-elder-tree]

About Agathario: I think a lot of their problems are caused by the fact that they do not fully understand each other's perspectives or refuse to understand. Agatha doesn't want to accept that Nick was doomed to die and Rio doesn't understand that she put Agatha through hell by giving her a little time instead of ripping the bandaid off. I mean, she isn't human, so can you really blame her for not understanding the human relationship with Death?

What I'm trying to say is, they have growth to do apart, but I fully see Agatha embracing Death some day (after helping Billy and making up for some things) and them repairing their relationship.

[patolemus]

This is just a little something I thought of for my Catholic guilt au (let’s call it revelations) that I had to get out of my head.

————————————

Rin is a monster.

The monastery is on fire, falling to pieces in front of his eyes, Shiro is dead, and Rin is a monster.

Shiro is dead. And Rin has fangs, long ears and a tail. He has a demon sword on his hands. He has the cursed blue flames from Hell that killed his father.

He looks around him at the crumbling monastery. Miasma clings to the broken walls and the splintered wood of the floor, dark and pungent and it makes Rin’s skin crawl. The floor looks rotten where the Gate of Gehenna was minutes before. Rin senses the residual power even now that it’s gone. He senses that same power within him, thrumming just beneath his skin, itching to be let out again. The Koma sword lays abandoned next to him where he dropped it after closing the gate, forgotten in the aftermath of what will forever be the worst night of Rin’s life.

Rin hears voices like he’s underwater, distant and muted and barely understandable. Part of him realizes they’re talking to him, asking him what happened and if he’s okay, but Rin doesn’t hear them. Not really.

He’s on his knees next to the altar, Shiro’s mangled body oozing blood even now that he’s dead next to him. Rin looks up at the cross on the wall, somehow still standing after all the destruction Satan and his demons left behind. It feels condemning. He looks away.

Rin’s hands shake as he gathers his father’s body in his arms and tugs it close. It’s still warm, and perhaps Rin could have deceived himself into thinking he’s still alive if it weren’t for the lack of a heartbeat. His new ears hear much of everything around him, and much of nothing inside his dad.

Shiro is dead. And Rin is a monster.

He wails.

[sickfreaksirkay]

hey. hey. it's 1am I have just finished reading and you have got to read this. insane.

the end had me sitting there going motherFUCKER which is the highest praise I can give

"imagine camelot but in gotham" is crazy i will be checking this out asap!!! thanks so much for the rec <333

[bpdbanner]

can all the captain underpants fans come and moot me pls and ty i need friends in this fandom asap!!

[lolhex12]

we don't talk enough abt akutagawa's cough / lung disease (chronic&terminal) yet it has so much angst potential?? anywayy

after the current arc, atsushi knows akutagawa is actively dying and he's the only one who does bc akutagawa didn't tell anyone else abt it. (altho, in all honesty, the amount this man coughs should at least hint at it. i'm honestly amazed not more ppl in the story are concerned abt it)

so, the next mission they have together, akutagawa coughs and atsushi is now aware what it really means, so he wonders out loud with nonchalance masking his concern: "hey, so like, do you think yosano's ability would help with your cough and all? would it go away then?"

akutagawa, wiping his mouth, slightly annoyed: "how would i now? i'm not well-acquainted with your coworkers, weretiger, therefore it's none of my concern. and even then, i wouldn't trust any ada members with my issues, nor my life."

atsushi finds his words a bit sus bc 'u do trust me tho', but doesn't say it out loud and they leave it at that.

somehow, it becomes a regular thing. every time they have a mission together and atsushi hears his partner cough, he presents more ideas of how they could cure a terminal lung disease, and they vary in absurdity as he runs out of inspiration.

his ideas range from mere "have you tried going to a doctor?" (<- at which akutagawa stares in disbelief: "you either think i'm an idiot, or you are the idiot. which one is it?" and atsushi pouts bc 'ok yeah, fair... but also, rude') to insanities like "maybe witchcraft would help! i could look up witches in the area and see if black magic or something has any luck." (<- at which akutagawa is so done he doesn't even entertain the idea and just keeps walking)

they never follow through with any idea tho, bc akutagawa stubbornly refuses to waste time on trying to find a cure when his time on earth already is very limited.

it should also be noted that each time the cough gets worse; louder, rougher, more persistent and even bloody, which only makes atsushi more and more worried.

so one time, akutagawa's particularly annoyed by atsushi's insane and stupid ideas. he turns to him and point-blank asks: "why do even care so much whether i succumb to my illness or not? surely, my death should only leave you overjoyed to see the world be rid of one more evil."

that makes atsushi think bc 'why? why does he care whether akutagawa lives or dies? he's right, a bad person like a mafioso dying should be a good thing.'

after lengthy contemplation he comes to the conclusion that he simply cannot have his sworn enemy/rival/partner die from something as pathetic as a disease. someone as strong as akutagawa has to die in a more memorable way - not alone, in a bed, coughing, with nothing more to be remembered by. if anything he'd have to die fighting atsushi or something. yeah that's it. that's why. (<- it's not, but they're not quite there yet)

so atsushi tells him as much. akutagawa accepts it bc 'yeah, makes sense. what else could the reason be?'

the whole routine of coughing and brainstorming a solution in vain continues as the ideas get even more insane, the cough even worse and atsushi more concerned than ever.

the next time akutagawa is annoyed enough to pose the question again, atsushi is close to tears from anxiety as he holds up akutagawa who collapsed and can't seem to subdue his cough properly.

atsushi struggles to get out the water bottle and cough drops he'd started carrying around on their missions together. he's so scared bc he's never seen akutagawa look so sick and frail before (but not weak. never weak. akutagawa could never be weak in atsushi's eyes. it's impossible, bc akutagawa being strong is a simple, unchangeable fact, constant in any possible universe).

what would he do if akutagawa actually died there? in his arms? on a mission? which would probably get cancelled. would the pm think atsushi killed him? does he bring back the body or just bury it somewhere? pretend he got killed on the mission and not by his own body that had turned on him years ago and was in reality a long time coming? he couldn't even bear to think abt it.

"why tf do u care so much??" akutagawa yells with a scratchy voice before his cough continue despite his best efforts to stop.

atsushi can barely breathe anymore. "because i don't want you to die, you idiot! we're a team! you're my partner. who will i be left with if you go?" tears stream down his face, mainly from how overwhelming his anxiety feels. or maybe bc he really doesn't want his partner to die? nah, it's the anxiety. definitely the anxiety. (<- #denial)

akutagawa, at first embarrassed how his collapse derailed their mission bc goddammit he's supposed to be a professional and not let his issues interfere with his job, pauses when he sees atsushi crying... for him? because of him? ???

he's very confused bc he's pretty sure his rival/enemy/partner should not be so concerned abt his health and impending death, but something abt atsushi's expression and that whole situation makes him rethink his outlook on life.

that's when akutagawa starts taking his health more seriously and actively looks for possible, feasible ways to cure his disease, even if there's only a small chance it'll actually work. bc seeing atsushi like that made him realize there are a handful of people who care abt him and would mourn him if he died; more than just his sister and higuchi.

it made him realize his life had a bigger impact on others than he'd previously thought, not all of it bad.

[an--artistic--autistic]

so as it turns out, most of the symptoms I've been having, especially during the past few back-to-back flare ups since October, are not actually fibromyalgia symptoms and i will be asking my doctor for a referral to a neurologist to do ms testing, since there is a family history of it and it fits very similar to my symptoms

[spiderwebd]

I'm so powerless right now but once I figure out how to draw anthropomorphic turtles youre all gonna be so screwed

[random-chaos-and-stuff]

Silly Game Time: Have you ever seen or heard a ghost (or what some might've considered to be a ghost)? If so, when and where?

Ohohohohohohoh I’ve been looking for an excuse to share some of this shit.

Short answer, yes, a while ago, twice at my house, and once on an island.

long answer is under the cut because I’ve been looking for an excuse to ramble about this stuff and it got a bit out of hand, aka horrifically long. So just be warned I guess.

So for context my mom’s side of the family has a history of some mildly supernatural stuff happening, and being able to sense stuff and all that jazz. Not in like the Hollywood type of way, just occasional feelings of a presence, or seeing something weird out of the corner of their eye, or encountering something strange for a bit, stuff like that. Overall pretty mild. And lucky me, I got it too. Maybe not ghosts or demons in the traditional sense most of the time, but definitely something else on occasion. Most of them are harmless, or just curious, but some are more malicious and all of that stuff. You can usually tell the difference based off vibes. Now here’s the thing, if you can more easily sense them, they can more easily sense you, and tend to get curious and interact a bit more because of it. I’ve encountered a couple of weird situations, none of which I can logically explain away easily (maybe the last one was my brain playing tricks on me, but considering it was on an island where a murder occurred on the next island over and was known to have many ghosts on it and literal graves I don’t think so), and I’ll share the ones I can think of right now here.

So this first one I don’t actually remember, because I was a newborn at the time. But my mom has told me about it a bunch. She said that when I was a baby and had just been brought home, I’d sometimes start randomly crying in my room. Now all kids do this, but she said I sounded almost scared. I’d always stop a while later, and when they checked on me I was fine. But she said that she felt a weird presence in my room sometimes. Now one time my mom apparently was putting me down for a nap, and I was all fine and dandy, the room all warm, and I went to sleep, and she left. A minute later I started crying really badly, so she rushed in, and apparently caught a flicker of someone looking at me by my crib, and the room was no joke several degrees colder, like actually cold in there. She immediately grabbed me and left the room, before telling whatever it was to leave, because it was scaring me. Sure enough, after that it left, and didn’t come back. It had just been curious.

The next thing I remember encountering was when I was like 10 or 11, it’s hard to remember, and wasn’t really a ghost I don’t think, but it was definitely something else, and it was definitely not nice. It possessed a stuffed monkey toy, one that came with a car in the trunk for some reason, with that cartoony smile and black eyes. It was cute for a while, until one day, it just. Wasn’t. Its face didn’t change, but somehow it felt more malicious, and like there was something behind it that meant us harm. It was in my younger brother’s and I’s room (we shared the room at the time), and there were several occasions when it moved on its own. Every single night it moved a little closer to my brother’s bed, inching across the room every time, though neither of us had touched it out of fear. Finally one day it got too close, and I was scared enough to go throw it out in the kitchen trash (downstairs, and across the hall/house from the at the time family room, which is important later), thinking that it would be gone in the morning. But instead, that morning we found it on the desk in the family room, laying across one of his other toys, as if nothing had happened. (I later asked both my parents and neither one had removed or touched it.) So my brother and I were scared, and I went and put it laying down in the kitchen on the stove, which was completely empty by the way, and went to talk with my brother. When I went back in, it was sitting straight up, propped up against the cookbook on the stove, just… staring. That freaked me out really bad, so I did the only thing my kid brain could think of (based off the limited media I had consumed at that age and what I had) and did an exorcism of sorts. I figured that crosses repelled demons or whatever, right? So I grabbed some lavender cough rub (which ended up working really well), drew a cross on it, and pinned it in a bike helmet so it couldn’t move and hung it in the breezeway. Repeated the cross thing a few more times, until it no longer felt actively malicious, and threw that thing away. It never returned.

Another one was a more complicated one, but I remember it really well. I think it was when I was 12 or 13, again, hard to remember. It was on an island, which was known for among other things, apparently having MANY ghosts, for many reasons. But I was playing a game of manhunt (basically a game of hide and seek mixed with tag for those who don’t know) at night on the island with some other kids in the group I was in, and it was all dark. I had started to feel a bit nervous and also didn’t know how long the game would last, so I started heading back to the hotel area/lawn area with lights and people, the main meeting place where everyone generally is, and people went after getting caught or opting out of the game. I began walking down this path, and kept seeing little blobs of shadow moving out of the corner of my eye, so I kept going to get back to the hotel area, not running or trying to catch their attention (seriously if you don’t need to draw supernatural attention then you probably shouldn’t, it rarely ends well), until I stopped for a moment because I saw a HUGE blob of shadow leap over the path, behind a fence into a garden or something, and disappear. I began walking to a more defined path after that, and soon began walking along the gravel path. After maybe a minute or less of walking, I heard footsteps behind me on the gravel path (a very distinct sound) and soon picked them out from my own. After a minute I stopped and turned around to see who it was, but nobody was there. But I still heard the footsteps on the path, getting closer. That’s when I bolted and absolutely LEGGED it back to the lawn area, to the nearest largish group of people with lights, and sticking with them for a while, until some of my friends showed up, having been caught, and we sat on the hotel area steps for a while under the lights.

So yeah, I definitely have. That’s not all of them, but they are the most memorable ones