#i blame Egon

[starlight-flower]

This is about to become just a full on Ghostbusters blog I swear-

That's all I post now hhh

Obligatory Egon picture btw-

[sxilor-1010]

So uh... about that Lovecore Egon post I made three hours ago-

Original screencap below the cut!

[n1ghteeea]

Me when I meet my boy pals after 6 years of no-contact and physically cannot tear myself away from them 💪

[wingdingsandbrokenstrings]

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/amp/rcna176791

reminder that being against ai also means being against character.ai and not using character.ai and not interacting with character.ai

i've never talked to chatgpt i've never talked to character.ai i have no interest in talking to a chatbot even if it's fun or based on my comfort character. if we want companies to stop using ai we need to tell them we aren't going to interact with it - so don't.

don't talk to robots. full stop.

[hippiegoth97]

Random Egon Spengler Thought #3

A/N: The votes are in, and I've continued on with the story I've created! Officially part three, and what I hope to be the final one. I've still got my massive Egon x OC wip to work on, as fun as these little tangents are to write and share with you all. Anyway, enjoy! (For those who want to catch up, here's Part 1 and Part 2!)

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, swearing, no use of y/n, established relationship, fem!reader, unprotected sex, fluff, use of pet names, body worship, mentions of stress/hazardous work environments, groping, heavy kissing, dirty (filthy) talk

Tags: @ghostsfungitwinkies @taire-the-disaster-gay @gr00vyashley @hoodiewearingsimp @sunnyday-realestate-agent @haroldramistwinkie @verypsbfan019 (if this isn't your thing, feel free to ignore, or ask me to remove the tag💜)

"Sorry I'm late, we received a couple of extra calls tonight," Egon says as he walks through the door to your apartment with the key you'd given him. He was supposed to show up hours ago, you'd prepared dinner and everything. His favorite, a beef stir-fry which rivals that of his favorite Chinese take-out place that closed down a couple of years ago.

"It's fine," you reply from the couch, having changed into your pajamas when it became clear he was going to be late. Dinner sits in Tupperware in the fridge, though it doesn't reheat the best. You can't say you aren't a little annoyed that yet another planned date night in has been derailed, but you can hardly blame Egon for that. His job is important, and you knew what you were getting into when you started seeing him.

"No, it isn't," Egon tells the truth for you. It tears him up inside that tonight's plans were ruined, as they have been the last twelve times. He barely gets to see you lately, always at work either catching ghosts or analyzing new slime samples. It may be good for business, but it's not fair to you, or your relationship.

It hasn't been feeling very good for him, either. He doesn't get nearly enough rest anymore, forced to sleep at the firehouse with the guys practically every night. Which is far from a picnic, given that Ray snores like a semi-truck and Peter has taken up the habit of sleepwalking. It's affecting his focus, and in turn, his work. Ray has needed to correct him on his lab work a couple of times, and he just barely missed getting sliced open by Winston's proton stream on one of the calls today. Hell, he couldn't even remember to change out of his Ghostbusters uniform before coming here.

You look up at Egon from your book, some trashy romance novel you were passing the time with, although all you could think about was him. "Oh, darling. You look exhausted," you tut, putting the book down and standing to go to him. He's still in his uniform, a couple globs of slime soaking into the shoulders of his suit. His hair is a wild mess, his face unshaven, smudged with dirt and grime from wherever the hell he's been tonight. He even has a scrape on his left cheek, bright red cutting through the dark, dingy smears.

"I am," he replies simply, meeting your gaze. His eyes feel like they weigh a thousand pounds apiece, but he can't stand to ignore a chance to look at your gorgeous face.

"Don't even worry about date night, Egon. You've been dealing with so much at work, and I knew what I signed up for in being your girlfriend," you say comfortingly, stroking his uninjured cheek with your thumb.

"But, I am worried," Egon sighs, taking your hands in his. He still has his work gloves on, an annoying layer of separation between you. "I'm worried about you, about us. We barely get to see each other, I can't even sleep," he explains, sounding far more distressed than you've seen him before. He's tired, probably hungry, and frustrated about missing time with you. "You deserve to have a partner who will make time for you," Egon says, which makes your heart drop. It sounds like he's going to break up with you. You're about to cut in and beg for him to reconsider, but he keeps going. "I'm going to tell the guys I need to cut back on work for a while," he adds, which certainly isn't what you were expecting.

"Oh, Egon, are you sure? It sounds like all of you are pretty swamped, I'd hate for the others to have to pick up the slack when it's so busy," you seriously cannot believe the words out of your mouth. You're trying to talk him out of spending time with you? Did you hit your head on the way out of bed this morning? Has Earth suddenly turned into Planet Crazy?

"They'll be fine, darling. The others have all gotten their turn to step back for a while, some more than once. Peter did to take care of Oscar and marry Dana, Winston to help his sick aunt, Ray frequently takes a leave of absence for pilgrimages to haunted historical sights around the world or to attend paranormal conventions," Egon explains.

"But until now, I never really had a reason to take a break from the Ghostbusters. The only time I stopped before was when we got shut down, but even then, I threw myself into intensive research that absorbed most of my time," he pauses. "And then I met you, darling. And everything changed," Egon says with a warm smile, making one blossom on your own lips. "For the first time in my life, I have someone. It's my turn to enjoy that, the guys will surely understand," he says, reassuring you that this time off for him is well-earned, deserved, and worth it. For you.

"Well, it sounds like you've made up your mind, Dr. Spengler," you say eagerly, very keen on this idea.

"Yes," Egon chuckles, picking up from your tone that this conversation is quickly heading into a more amorous direction.

"In that case, I say your time off starts right now," you tease, maneuvering the two of you to turn around so Egon's back faces the couch. You press on his chest, leading him to fall into the seat. He grunts quietly at the impact, looking up at you with curious eyes. It seems you want to be in charge tonight, and he has no energy to argue.

"We'd better get you out of these clothes," you say softly, getting on your knees before him. You lean down to unlace his boots, pulling the strings nice and slow. Egon watches you closely, a pulse of newfound energy coursing through him. He's excited to see where you take this, the lengths you may go to attend to him. He lifts each foot to help you remove his shoes, before you toss them aside. He sighs in relief, flexing his toes that have been confined for almost an entire twenty-four hours.

"Lie down for me, Egon," you say as you stand upright once more. He does as you ask, with you joining him a moment after. You straddle his lap, already feeling his erection forming beneath his suit. "Give me your hands," you gently command, reaching out for them. He gives them to you, watching as you take off his gloves. You plant soft kisses all along his hands once they're bare, holding his gaze as you do so.

"I love these hands...you know? So warm, and handsome, and strong," you say between kisses. "And these fingers," you muse, stroking each one of his digits with a featherlight touch. "Always able to touch me how I like, reach all the right places," you take his index finger into your mouth, lightly sucking him in, running your tongue along the underside of it. You take him all the way in, making Egon gasp as he wishes you'd do the same somewhere further south. You gradually pull his finger out, grinning lustfully once he's free from your mouth.

"Take my shirt off for me, darling," you instruct. Egon grabs the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it up along your body to expose your soft flesh. You raise your arms up, allowing him to pull it over your head. You tits bounce once they're free, and you bring Egon's hands up to massage them. You sigh as his warm palms close on your mounds, giving him a single roll of your hips over his stiff cock. His tip catches on your clit through all the layers of fabric, drawing a wispy moan from your lips.

"Fuck," Egon murmurs at the feeling of you grinding against him, how your breasts sit in his hands perfectly. Every move you make is so seductive, yet tender. Exactly what he needs after the unbelievably long day he's had.

You lay yourself over him, your hands on his chest as you lean in the kiss his neck. "Gonna take my time with you," you say against his stubbled skin. You can taste his long-dried sweat on your lips, driving you to nip and suck on his throat. Egon groans beneath you, such a tired little sound that gets you twice as wet as you were to begin with.

"I can feel how hard you are for me," you say lowly, grinding your hips again, slow and torturous for the both of you. You moan against Egon at the friction, unable to resist chasing it a few more times. You force yourself to stop, to resume your leisurely exploration of his entire body. You sit up, reaching for the zipper on his suit. You pull it down, revealing the black t-shirt he wears underneath it. You run your hands along this newly exposed garment, the warmth of his chest radiating into your palms through the fabric. You can feel the lightly toned muscles that come from lugging heavy equipment day in and day out, and you want to see them, feel them, kiss them.

You unzip his suit further, down to his waist, tugging at the arms. Egon assists you, sitting up slightly to slip out of the sleeves. You immediately grab at the hem of his undershirt, whipping it over his head a second later. You push him back down, your eyes full of hunger. You're on him like flies on honey, your mouth landing everywhere it can possibly reach, leaving blazing marks of saliva behind. His shoulders, his pectorals, his stomach. You're making a sloppy meal out of him, savoring every last lick and nibble.

"Ah," Egon hisses when you playfully bite on one of his nipples, quickly groaning afterwards as you soothe it with your hot tongue.

"You have such a gorgeous body, Egon," you praise, kissing your way back up to his neck again. "I love the way your arms feel when they're wrapped around me, protective and safe...perfect for carrying me to bed, or tossing me onto it," you chuckle, tickling his flesh with your breath.

"Any time you want me to, darling," Egon replies with a gentle laugh, bringing his hand up to stroke your bare back. You hum at his touch, nearly melting further into him. One little touch from him is all it takes to bring you peace and calm.

"Touch me lower," you say softly, wanting so badly for him to feel you in his beautiful hands. He does as you ask, traveling further along your spine, grabbing a firm handful of your ass. You let out a soft moan, pressing yourself into his hold out of instinct. You love the way this feels, but you want for him somewhere else even more. "Lower, Egon," you whine, unable to help squirming a little in anticipation.

"Put my hand anywhere you'd like. You're in control here," Egon says lowly, his voice venturing into that deep, seductive tone uttered only to you.

You shudder at his words, nodding against his chest. You shimmy out of your lounging shorts, leaving you completely naked on top of him. You gaze down at Egon with purpose, taking hold of his hand. You bring him first to your chest again, trailing down the front of your body, passing over your ribs, your navel, until he meets the patch of hair between your thighs. You grip his wrist with more stability, bringing his hand onto your soaked cunt. His fingertips brush through your slick folds, running over your clit.

"Fuck," you gasp in pleasure, dragging his fingers back and forth across your pussy.

Egon is entranced by the sight before him, the vision of you completely nude, using his hand to get yourself all riled up. His cock throbs inside his suit as he watches you play with yourself, as he hears you letting out the most vulgar noises. After a short while, Egon takes over for you, his skills far surpassing your own in this particular activity. He circles your bundle of nerves, pressing on it at the right times to send you moaning with your head fallen back.

"Fuck, Egon. I want you so bad, I'm so wet for you. Need you, darling, need you now," you babble, growing more desperate to feel him inside you with each passing second.

"Then take me," Egon says, mirroring your burning desire.

Those three little words are all it takes for you to practically rip the rest of his uniform off, clumsily pulling at it, tossing it away carelessly once Egon is set free from it. You grab hold of his dick, and it sits heavy in your hand, leaking profusely as you begin to stroke him. You scoot down his lap, bending over to kiss his thighs as your hand glides up and down on his shaft. As much as you want Egon inside you, you haven't finished worshipping him just yet.

Egon lets out pitiful moans and swears while you tease him, putting off the main event just a little while longer. If he had the energy for it, he'd probably pull you back up to him and shove his cock into you, thrust his hips up with all his might again and again until the two of you become a most satisfied mess. But he waits, appreciating the lengths you're going to, to shower him in your affection.

"Mm, I love these legs of yours, darling," you praise, sucking a dark hickey onto Egon's inner thigh, marking him as yours. "But I love what's between them even more," you say, practically panting as you briefly take his balls into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around them, pulling a loud groan from Egon in the process. You let them go a moment after, moving further along, licking a long stripe along the underside of his dick.

"Oh, god," Egon moans, gripping the sides of the couch. He's not sure how much more he can take, you're driving him insane at this point.

"You have the most perfect cock, too," you say with a grin, kissing along his length until you reach his throbbing tip. "You fill me up just right...hit every perfect spot inside me...make me come so fucking hard," you can't help moaning through your filthy words, grinding your hips against nothing at the thought of how well Egon satisfies you. You suck his cockhead between your lips, cleaning up the glossy mess spilling out of it. You whimper at the taste, wishing there was more of it to find.

"Darling, please. I can't take much more of your teasing," Egon huffs as his mind sprints a mile a minute. He's already running on almost no sleep, which has sent his body into overdrive along with your tantalizing torture. He needs you right now, he can't wait any longer.

"Neither can I," you admit, bringing yourself back into his lap, his cock resting against your stomach. You get up onto your knees, holding Egon steady in your grasp, your free hand on his chest for balance. You bring his dick to your entrance, and slowly sink down onto him, taking every last inch. "Fuck, I've missed this," you moan as you stuff yourself with his cock, remembering just how long it's been since the last time.

"I've missed this, too," Egon agrees, his breath shaking as your drenched cunt squeezes around him. The reminder of just how intoxicating being inside of you feels makes him realize another layer of his frustration. These past weeks, the most you've been able to manage is a quickie on the few days Egon had some hours to himself.

"Missed you," you pant, leaning down to bring your lips to his for the first time tonight. How could you possibly forget such a vital part of him in all your affectations? You kiss him hard and deep, stealing away what little breath either of you have.

"Missed you, too," Egon murmurs when you pull back to breathe. You gaze deep into one another's eyes, lips still barely brushing against each other, and you start to ride him. Slow and languid, just like everything else you've done tonight. You stay close to Egon, your chest pressed to his as you roll your hips expertly.

"Feels so good, darling," you say to him, occasionally moaning and gasping quietly when his cock hits certain angles.

"I second that," he replies softly, smiling warmly at you. His hands come up to rest on your hips, keeping you steady as you leisurely bounce on his length.

You continue like this for a while, kissing and fucking like it's the easiest thing in the world, with no regard for what time it is or any responsibilities waiting for you. You plant soft kisses across Egon's face, the final place to receive your adoration. His cheeks (though you're careful not to irritate the scraped one), his nose, his jawline, his forehead. No stone is unturned in your pilgrimage across his body that you love so much.

"You are the most handsome, beautiful man I've ever met, you know that?" You ask him, though he's usually too humble to agree.

"You tell me so quite often," he says in acknowledgement, his ears growing a bit red, as they always do. Egon isn't much of a blusher, in his cheeks, at least. But when you really get him going, his ears look like he was out in the sun for too long.

"Because it's true," you giggle at his shyness, finding it ever so endearing. You'd think - given his line of work - he wouldn't be shy about anything, but you prove to be the one thing left in the world that still gets him flustered. "I don't just mean that physically, either. You have a beautiful mind, and heart, and soul. I see it all, my love. Every time I look at you," you say sweetly, caressing his cheek with your hand.

"I see the same in you, darling," Egon replies warmly, giving your hips a tender squeeze. He lifts his head up to initiate a kiss of his own, while also daring to gently thrust up into you to meet your bounces. You whimper against his mouth, a sign that you like what he's doing. He does it again, and again, earning your tongue dancing with his own in return.

The both of you speed things up just the tiniest bit, wanting to enjoy this moment as much as possible. Groans and whines spill through the gaps of your casual kisses, the smacking of lips mingling in an obscene harmony. Words fall away from the forefront of your minds, save for the occasional swear. All that matters to either of you now is sensation, the shared love that radiates between the two of you.

You keep up with one another, holding on tightly as pleasure builds within you both. You don't change pace, you don't worry about extra stimulation. You simply don't stop. Not for what feels like hours, thoroughly enjoying your intimate time together, until broken cries of ecstasy finally break through your lips.

You cling to Egon as your orgasm delicately slices through you, your body shaking and covered in lust-scented sweat. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls begging to be coated in his thick, warm release. The wish is granted as he sharply thrusts into you, spilling ropes of cum that warm you up from the inside out like a comforting cup of tea. Egon keeps you close to him with his big, strong arms, letting his high roll over him, riding every wave alongside you until you both finally come to a stop.

You lie on top of him for a good while, his cock softening inside of you, your eyes blissfully closed as you feel complete. You can sense Egon feels the same way, there are only very rare times when you aren't on the same page in matters of the heart.

"Move in with me," you say, barely above a whisper as you still try to catch your breath.

"What?" Egon asks, though he certainly heard you the first time. You sit up, peeling your sticky body away from his to repeat yourself.

"I want you to move in with me," you say again. "I think it's about time you have a place to call home that isn't also your place of work. Plus, it'll give us more time together," you explain, though Egon doesn't respond yet. "What do you think?" You ask as you bit your lip, growing a bit nervous that he hasn't said a word.

"I'd love to move in with you, darling. I can pack my things tomorrow," Egon says, overjoyed at your most wonderful offer. No more snoring, no more sleepwalking, no more lack of privacy. And best of all, he gets to live with you. The one woman in the world he loves more than life itself.

"Great! I'll help you pack!" You say excitedly, giving him a celebratory kiss. He accepts it gladly, meeting your enthusiasm. He can't wait to share this wonderful space with you, this place that has honestly felt like his home since he started seeing you, even though it wasn't official until now.

"I love you so much, Egon. I can't wait to make my home into ours," you can't help giggling at the thought of sharing closets, rearranging furniture, and arguing over where Egon can keep his mold, spore, and fungus collection. Every last second of it is going to be amazing.

"Neither can I, darling," Egon says, giving you another kiss. "Although, I wouldn't mind some of that famous beef stir fry first," he says eagerly, remembering he hasn't eaten in far too long.

"You got it, roomie," you tease, before carefully removing yourself from Egon's lap to go heat up some dinner. You don't bother putting on any clothes, opening the fridge and putting portions of stir fry onto plates and plopping them into the microwave. Once it's all set, you bring the plates back to the couch, where you and Egon proceed to dig in and watch some stupid late-night movie on tv. Completely nude and happier than either of you thought possible. Full of love, fatty food, and unadulterated bliss.

[yellow-dejavu]

It was unexpected for me that Claudia, Jonas, Noah and Elisabeth ended up being the post-apocalypse group, but the four of them fit so well together.

They don't really had screentime together, but I can't stop thinking about the apocalypse family and how much they can relate to each other.

Each one of them lost their naivety when they discovered time travel and learned a little more about the reality of their world, but they lost their innocence when they experienced the reality of their dads death.

Each member of the group carries the guilt for the death of their dads.

Noah literally killed his dad, influenced by sic mundus.

Claudia tried to prevent her dad's death and accidentally caused it.

Jonas was led to believe that he could prevent his dad's suicide when in fact he was the trigger.

Elisabeth was not to blame for her dad dying, but she probably felt guilty that he died trying to protect her.

They were completely broken, and the person who came to comfort them and give them hope was a member of the apocalypse family.

After Bartosz died, Noah told his younger self that he knew how it felt and that the pain of what he had done would pass. Noah knew that wasn't true. It would be a pain he would never forget. Since he was the one who had defined the irony of his dad's fate, it had only become more painful.

Claudia met Jonas for the first time after what happened with Egon, and she realized that she couldn't change things. Jonas appearead and let her know that they could change things. This happened after Jonas had spent a year traveling with an older version of Claudia.

Jonas met Claudia for the first time when he realized that he wasn't there to stop his dad and that his attempt to save him had failed again. At that moment, Claudia came and told Jonas that he could save them all. So Jonas goes to spend a year with Claudia learning about time travel.

After Peter dies, Elisabeth only knows of a place somewhere in the woods where Noah stays, and Noah only knows that he would protect her. In the cave, they find the passage, and Noah tells Elisabeth about paradise. Their connection gave them hope. Even when Noah felt hopeless himself, he only wanted to give Elisabeth hope.

They just tried to give them some comfort. In one of their darkest moments, they were there for each other and tried to never give up hope.

Also everything that losing their moms represented for them.

Silja died when Noah was very young and apparently Bartosz became distant.

When Doris left, Egon started to drink. It was probably at that moment that his relationship with Claudia became colder.

Their relationships with their dads deteriorated when they lost their moms. A disagreement resulted in the death of their dads. Noah and Claudia eventually saw their dads again, but it was a younger version of their dads who didn't yet recognize that version of them as their kid.

I think it is similar with Elisabeth and Jonas.

The first thing Jonas did when he got home was look for his mom, and he couldn't find Hannah. He probably thought he couldn't save his mom just like he couldn't save his dad.

Peter and Elisabeth were still trying to find Franziska and Charlotte, and after months she just thought they were dead. When her father died, I don't think there was any hope of seeing her mother again.

For years, Jonas and Elisabeth probably assumed that their moms had died in the apocalypse. It was unexpected the way they were reunited with their moms, and the revelations that came from it.

This group is so interesting to me because they experienced many years of friendship and then all that was left was betrayal. Although I will never forget all those years of friendship that I never saw.

[florawriting]

Shazam CrackFics (#1?): Darla and the Ghostbusters

I saw the movie again yesterday, sue me!

Philly is weird, right? Especially Fawcett. Well four certain Ghostbusters thought the same and decided that a location there would be far more sustainable for business.

Meanwhile, Darla is a bit out of a purpose. Since Billy can't share the powers of Shazam anymore she needs to find other things to fill in her days. Today she was trying out odd jobs around town.

One day she walked past a new business that had opened when she saw a man having a hard time washing various kinds of gunk of a large white car. Darla innocently asked if she could do it for some spare change, which the man happily obliged to. Since then Darla is kind of employed as the resident car washer for spare change, some food the men share with her and overall good company.

Some of the things that will happen:

The ghostbusters will try to threat lightly about the fact that ghosts exists because "We don't want to scare the girl" only to realize that Darla is extremely unphased by the existence of ghosts, ghouls and monsters in general. (They blame it on Fawcett's weirdness)

Ray Stantz (the first Ghostbuster Darla meets) and Egon Spengler get along very well with Darla and like to explain how everything works, in time also allowing her to do more odd jobs around the building. Peter Venkman is a bit weary if this is considered child employment and Winston Zeddemore is a bit worried about the fact that Darla is seemingly unphased by all this.

At a certain moment during a job the Ghostbusters need something specific from the building but can't get it in time so Darla steps in to deliver it (be it on foot or on a bike or something). The Ghostbusters feel a bit bad about asking a little girl to go into basically a warzone, meanwhile Darla is in a happy mood of "Just like old times"

I can imagine Ray getting her a small version of the Ghostbusters overalls because he doesn't want her cloths to get dirty when cleaning the car or delivering stuff around.

Rosa, Victor and the rest of the Shazamily are not aware she is doing all of this BTW. She tells them that she is doing small odd jobs for this guy and non of the things she told them are raising any alarm bells. (Rosa and Victor are also certain that she wouldn't be doing it if she didn't enjoy it)

This all cumulates when a superhero level ghosttreat is happening in Philly and both the Ghostbusters and the Champions are fighting it separately. Darla is with the Ghostbusters helping to trap ghosts by acting as distraction and hoisting around necessary tech. (She is absolutely loving the trill of the fight) At a certain point the Ghostbusters and Champions cross paths, the Ghostbusters are a bit weary because they haven't really spoken to them until this point and through research they kinda know what their deal is and they surely don't want to deal with another batch of gods. Also they clearly are taking a child into a dangerous zone. Meanwhile Darla is just acting like ":3 hi" against the champions who act like tired siblings back to her. They are shocked, yes, and possibly a bit angry but at this point they should have seen it coming from a mile away and they know they can't really stop her so they allow her to help out if she promises to stay safe. Que to the Ghostbusters with surprised Pikachu faces in the background as they try to make sense of this interaction. Darla had to tell Rosa and Victor afterwards which was a bummer :(

[zooophagous]

Hi, I sent you an anon a little while ago, and I realized I may have overshared? If I did, I want to apologize. I wanted to show solidarity, but I think I over empathized (if that is a term?) with your situation and ended up talking about my own too much.

What I wanted to say is that I understand how you feel after going through a very similar situation with my own dog. It's a terrifying position to be in and I don't think people realize just how scary it is until they've been in it.

I hope you don't blame yourself in anyway. I know I was plagued by a lot of 'should've, would've could'ves' with my dog.

I hope things start looking up for you and Egon and Tuunbaq finds a home that is equipped to meet his needs.

Its ok, I promise I didn't skip over your ask on purpose I just received a lot of very nice supportive asks since the incident and I'm too overwhelmed to reply to them all.

The hard part about animals is, for all of your management and training and how well you think you raised them, they're still animals, and they have a degree of free will and sometimes their instincts will override their training.

Part of me wants to keep trying with Tuunbaq but I know ultimately it's a bad idea because my management WILL eventually fail. There will be a day I forget to take out trash and some food item will become a potential trigger. There will be a day a dog escapes a crate or learns how to open an unlocked door (both things Tuunbaq has already done before) and even though they're fine together 99% of the time, the remaining 1% is too risky to be able to continue.

It hurts my heart, because I do love Tuunbaq, and Egon despite his better judgment still loves Tuunbaq. But love isn't a replacement for good decision making.

I'm very fortunate that Tuun's breeder is happy to take him back and figure out a better placement for him. I still have a lot of admiration for the kishu breed, but large primitives are just not a good fit for my household.

[fallengrvity]

KISSING IN THE RAIN

egon spengler masterlist. ✴︎ egon spengler 𝑥 gender neutral!reader.

synopsis. You and Egon get caught in the rain, so you two entertain yourselves while you wait.

contents. Fluff, all fluff. Kissing (maybe heated, the demons got to me (so this fic may be up to your interpretation)). Established relationship. It’s implied that reader encountered a ghost. Egon hardly speaks in this… The other customers at the restaurant do NOT exist. Ghostbusters II reference, I couldn’t help myself. No use of Y/N.

word count. 576

notes. egon is so beautiful 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭egon 😢😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭. I’m honestly proud of the gif. But this ficlet? Not so much. I had to force myself to finish this.

“It’s raining? Seriously?”

Egon looked up and saw you staring out the window, a dissatisfied look on your face as you watched it rain outside.

“It won’t be long,” said Egon, looking back down at the check. Egon had took you out on a date, and he decided to pay. You couldn’t complain, he insisted. When he asked you out on a date, you could tell he was quite nervous, and indeed he was. Though, you were happy about it - ecstatic even. You couldn’t help but squeal. Who would blame you? A ghostbuster, Egon Spengler to be specific, asking you out on a date. It was a dream come true, really.

You exhale through your nose as you lean back in your chair. “I hope so.” You say, looking back at Egon. “But I enjoyed tonight very much, Egon. Thank you.”

You could see a quirk of the unseen smile peak at the corner of Egon’s mouth.

It wasn’t long until you two were now outside of the restaurant, standing underneath the canopy. Egon stood to your left, his hand placed on your back — his hand felt like it belonged on your back.

You both stood there for the next five minutes, gentle smiles on your face, any future plans for the day completely forgotten. You much preferred to bask in Egon’s presence and chat about everything and nothing for as long as you can.

“I think what you do is pretty great,” you speak up. Egon looks down at you. “Saving people from ghosts, saving… me.” Your tongue peeked out to nervously lick your lips, only now realizing that Egon’s other hand was holding onto yours.

His gaze seemed calculated as he stared at you, and you wondered if he could hear your heart practically beating out of your chest. You place your free hand on your chest and as you open your mouth to say something, his lips met yours.

His lips trembled, but you couldn’t blame him, you were quite nervous yourself. You could feel him pull away, but you didn’t want this to end, freeing his tie from his vest and pulling him closer.

He let out a noise of surprise, arms coming to wrap around your waist, you both accidentally slam into the wall and getting some rain on you in the process, but a little rain wouldn’t hurt anybody.

You both only separated to take a quick breath before you reached your free hand up, tangling your fingers in Egon’s curls. He was more confident this time, gently tugging your bottom lip. For all the sweets he had tasted, he thought you tasted better. He thought he could just be satisfied here, his hands squeezing your waist and your hands digging into his scalp, which was now slightly wet due to the rain.

He was about to pull you closer until a siren suddenly went off, causing you two to pull apart.

“Hey, Egon. How was your date?”

Egon spun around and was greeted with the sight of Peter grinning at him. You peeked out from behind him, raising an eyebrow. You were slightly annoyed from the interruption.

“I bet they really dig that large cranium of yours, hm?” said Peter.

You let out a noise of surprise as you look away. Egon gave Peter a look, before he helps you over to the ecto-1, being quick so you two won’t end up getting soaked in the rain.

You thought the date went well.

EGON SPENGLER / GHOSTBUSTERS TAGLIST. @fisgla @044s @egonspenglerishot

[inolienkiki]

I'm being very vague about plot points and character names here in the faint hope that it may entice some of you to watch this show.

on my... 4th? 5th? rewatch of DARK I'm paying a lot more attention to the character arcs, to figuring out how everyone got to the point they did. For a while the extent of my Adam takes was "haha stupid idiot man point and laugh, you can't even kys correctly" but recently I saw a post that made me stop and think and actually try to empathize with this character. This was immeasurably depressing (which is probably why I hadn't been considering it before).

The material extent of my take hasn't changed- I still think Adam is a truly stoopid person and by far the dumbest out of the three main characters in this show- but the context I have for this has changed a lot. See, each one of these characters is a planner who develops strategies for years down the line and uses all the information at their disposal to make those plans- but the way they get that information, and therefore how much they're able to do with it, is VERY different.

Adam remembers information. Everything he knows he got from his younger self; he functions almost entirely on memory. When he does stuff, like sending his younger self to summer 2019, or sending his sister to the apocalypse, or even attempting to build the God Particle machine in 1888, he's doing it because he remembers how all this stuff happened, and thus needs to keep it that way. Adam never actually seeks out new information, because every time he has in the past, it's absolutely demolished his life. He was investigating at the very beginning of the show- going into the caves, talking to his family members to figure out how much they knew- but at some point, he stops. He's lost that. He no longer views the knot as something to discover or manipulate, he thinks of it as something to escape from, and often completely fails to take others' plans or ideas into account. For 33 years he was sitting on the information that alt-Martha said she knew him, and not once did it occur to him to figure out why she said that or what bearing it might have on his plan. Seriously! If he'd investigated that, he could have altered his plan so it actually worked! And I don't blame him.

Eva generates information. Everything she knows she got from her older selves. Because she has almost absolute control over her own domain, and because she's been working in harmony for almost her whole life, she essentially bootstraps the information back to herself. You could call this working on memory, too, but I think it's a clear enough distinction, since she's actually honest to her younger self once they start working together. We don't have much on Eva, unfortunately, but we do know that her son was responsible for the notebook, and somehow I doubt he went and measured the "megahertz values" of all the cave time travel when they could've just used Adam's notebook and copied them over. (I don't buy that he actually killed Eva, but that's a different story.) Eva's son also works with his younger selves just like she does. Noah and Egon seem to as well, working with her. It's smart, it's thorough, and it totally would have worked, if it hadn't completely backfired.

The White Devil researches information. Out of all the main characters, she seems to do the most research. First off, she's actually a scientist, so naturally it's in her background. Even before she finds out about time travel, she's looking into the incident at the power plant, questioning Bernd about it, and being weird with Tronte. The very first thing she does when she gets access to time travel is go 30 years forward and look herself up. When she can't find her future self again, she realizes she's going to have to do this on her own, and proceeds to do so for the rest of her life. When Eva presents her the opportunity to work with another version of herself, she decides she wants more information, shoots her in the fucking head, and thereby goes and gets it. I'm confident that out of all the characters in this entire show (apart from origin HGT) this character is the only one who has any idea how time travel works or what to do with it. I love her for it.

So, I guess... trust the numbers, not yourself?

[tuliptired]

hi! could you write anymore little looks at a humanities ta!reader x egon in college?

Do Wah Diddy Diddy

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Ta!Reader

Warnings: Reader is drunk for most of it

The egon/reader tag is so barren ;( Why nobody else dressed like a slut tonight?

INSANELY better formatting on Ao3!

 Egon left his lab, surprisingly, stressed. His major didn´t often stretch him too thin, he knew what he was doing and how to do it best, but it was just that time of year. Lots of work, and not a lot of time to do it. He always managed, with lots of coffee and little sleep, it was just a fact of academia.

The outside world reflected the inside ecosystem of his fellow students, buzzing with life and blazingly hot. Plagued by the heated air trying to cling to the classroom, you cracked a few windows open as you taught in place of the absent professor. This wasn't out of the ordinary- the man trusted you enough to run a class, and you ran it like a natural, admittedly. But today was a little strained, your daily seminar not getting to the level of intensity it usually did. Egon would’ve made a comment on it as he got the last word in, but he decided against it. While you were a TA, there was more emphasis on the “A” in times like these, evident in how you scoured through notes for other classes when you had a spare minute.

They worked independently, before you lifted your head out of a notebook, one of many fans blowing some of your hair off of your forehead. You glanced at the clock, before quickly setting up a projector and unboxing a handful of identical, thick books.

“Big assignment,” you started, a few complaints sounding from the students, “it wasn’t even me this time, blame Mr. Coulms.” 

He left the lecture room in a worse mood than he entered it, the thick tome under his arm. A play. He was a great reader- he could read each edition of Tobin's Spirit guide cover to cover in an hour if he was looking to cite something. Scientific journals were light entertainment to him. But plays? You actually had to dissect a play. To dissect it, you had to read it- well. 

He leaned against a bookcase, in the not-leaning-but-leaning way that he does, so as not to disturb the books. He would be searching for something like Ray was, crouched on the ground and investigating the bottom shelf, but he wasn’t in the mood, glaring at the text he was given before placing it on an empty shelf beside him. 

They were tucked away in the basement of the Public Library- it was one of the few places that they could ask for books about harnessing pure protonic energy and campfire stories of the 30’s without being looked at weird. Peter messed with the straps of his bag, ready to go and saying so for the 3rd time.

“In a minute, Peter.” Ray placed a few books next to him, searching for the right one that happened to be inconveniently smaller than the one’s surrounding it. He looked up at Egon sympathetically. 

“I’m sorry, Spengs. But I did this one in high school, and it was a lot of fun!” His optimism was cut short as the rest of the books along the wood fall towards the middle like dominos. 

“It won’t be hard, Egon. Do the voices.’ Peter procured a rubix cube from his bag. Egon seriously didn’t know why he carried it around, as it was never once solved.

Ray fumbled with the books as he tried to Dewey-Decimal their placements in his head. “I’ll help. Just, uh…” He looked around at the mess he made. “Can you look around for ‘Ghastly Apparitions of the Appalachian’? We’re gonna need it, too.” Egon only nodded, eager to clear his head a bit. He remembered the author well enough, weaving through aisles to find the proper section. 

He didn’t make it far, there was a reshelving cart in his way, his feet coming to a halt. As he looked up from the roller, you were standing there, hands on your hips. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re studying very hard.”

He sighed a puff of air out his nose, as you peered over his shoulder. You saw two men on the ground, grabbing handfuls of discarded books. “And your friends are messing up my hard work.”

He glanced back at the men, then back at you. “Is there anywhere you don’t work?” He didn’t intend to be in a confrontational mood this afternoon, but a bad class will do that to you.

You pointed to a pin on your chest, which read your name in small print under ‘BOOKKEEPER’.

 “Nope. How many people do you know have a gold plated name tag?”

“Waste collectors and prison guards.”

“Did you need a book? Because you’re in the library?”

He had his hands resting on the handle of the cart, not noticing until you dragged it to the side, taking away the partition between you. “Ghastly Apparitions of the Appalachian by Gregory Lederer.” He expected you to not know what he was talking about, and stand there dumbfounded. But you pushed past him, making your way to the “L” aisle of the General Knowledge section.

Your eyes scanned the spines of various options. “I don’t remember this play taking place in Appalachia,” you moved on to the next row. He followed you like a dog, unsure of what to do while you helped him.

“It’s personal. Scientific.” 

“The title’s a little oxymoronic, then, no?” You finally found it, examining the covers quizzically.

As he reached out for the book, you pulled your hand back. Egon wanted to be annoyed, but it wasn’t in him.

“Actually read the play. Do the voices.” Your own voice had the tone of someone trying to reason with a child. He reached his hand out, again, and you placed the book into his palm, conceding. 

Though you had a modest smile, Egon couldn’t help notice your tired look, under eyes darkening despite your efforts otherwise. He could understand, this was a hard time for everyone, no matter their field. Before he could show you his commiseration, against his better judgment, you let the book go limp in his grasp, passing by him with a small “see you, Mr. Spengler”.

Peter appeared in his line of sight amongst the maze of shelves, as Egon stood dumbly. A voice told him to “clean up my basement” as he passed by.

“It appears we’re not wanted here. Let’s go, Egon.”

When it was officially late, you sat in your dorm, finally having time to sit and work. You had to skip a proper lunch, mindlessly putting a baby carrot in your mouth every 10 minutes as you snuck a binder under your desk at the Public Library. By the time you were on your bed, feverishly taking notes, checking notes, and reading notes, you were barely halfway done with your studying itinerary. This week was sufficiently kicking your butt, to say the least.

The door opened and shut, revealing your roommate, Christine, setting her bag down on the chair nearby. You barely verbally acknowledged her, looking for a specific page in your textbook. She gave you a once over, before making her way to the fridge, but unable to stop taking you in. 

“Did you hear what I said?” Christine asked you, skeptical.

“Don’t think so-” Page 392.

She poured herself a glass of something, eyeing you as she did. “I said, you need to relax a bit.”

That was easy for her to say. As much as you appreciated her and her companionship, all Christine did was relax. Still, your flow was disturbed, and you reluctantly put your materials down.

She continued now that she had your attention. “You don’t hang out anymore. It’s Friday.” She crosses to stand in front of your spot on the bed, effectively tapping you in the conversation.

“There’s some guys in my advertising class throwing-” You can tell what’s coming next, and you shimmy past her as she exclaims in protest.  

“Come on,” she follows you around, nearly pleading with you. You sighed, stopping as she leaned up behind you. It wasn’t that you didn’t like fun, or being with friends- parties just stopped being your scene a few semesters ago. How’s that for maturity?

“I’m telling you like I’ve told you a million times before. That’s just not my domain.” Christine spun you around, intent on not giving up until you caved.

“You guys always get drunk, then you get pissed, then I’m dragging you home and helping you puke it all up.” She rolled her eyes.

“We’ll only have a little- and,” she pointed an accusatory finger to your chest, “to be fair, you wouldn’t have to do all that if you drank a little yourself.”

You pointed the same finger back at her. “So we can all puke together? What a fun night.”

Christine made the sign of the cross then, pointed her fingers to the sky virtuously. “I swear on my life; we’ll know when to stop.” When she opened her eyes, you still weren’t convinced.

“Pleeeease? If it’s lame, we’ll leave and rent a video and get a pizza. But you might have fun.” She looked at you with those big blue eyes, and it took all of your strength to resist. She pleaded with you again, until you finally broke, covering your ears.

You groaned dramatically. “Alright, fine, fine. I’ll go to your stupid frat party and get smashed on cheap beer.” Christine cheered, making her way over to the phone. 

“I’ll call Dean and Lisa and-” you flopped back onto your bed. Staring at your long forgotten work, you wondered if this was the right choice. 

Egon read the line, waiting patiently for Ray to respond from the copy he borrowed himself, as the man read for all other 11 characters of the play. It was about two rulers from warring countries forced to live together in a dungeon, but he just couldn’t grasp what was so special about that. It was late into the night, the dorm only illuminated by a few lamps and the little bit of light pouring in from under the door. After hours of trying to evade it, both men had only made a small dent in the long drama.

Ray pushed his reading glasses up. “You need more conviction, Egon, I don’t feel like your wife right now.” Egon closed his copy, putting his forehead in his hand against his desk.

“I don’t think this is working.”

“Are you doing improv? ‘Of course it’s not working, you-”

“No, Raymond. This book isn’t working.” Egon slid it away from him, the bright red cover hurting his eyes, and his pride.

Ray looked sad for his friend, taking off his glasses. “The only way to do it is to read. I’m sorry.” He tossed his book onto his bed. “But we can take a break. Whaddya wanna do?”

Egon remembered it was Friday, the day most young adults would use to unwind. He reached into the drawer beneath him, emerging with a miniature Tesla coil Ray had fashioned.

“You read my mind, Spenges!”

The two men were engrossed with messing around with it, placing numerous objects on and around the transformer- granted that any other flammable or conducive thing they owned was moved out of the way. As Ray teased the sparks with a pencil, he suddenly recalled something, eyes flashing and wide as he dropped the writing utensil.

“Peter has my car!” He grabbed each side of his head, almost comically as he could picture it- a nice, clean Camaro being trashed by beer and bodily fluids.

Ray was just short of spiraling, stuck on either racing down to the party himself or bawling in the spinny chair. “I’d go there myself- and strangle the life out of him,” he nearly wept, covering his eyes.

Egon let his eyes shut, before willinging himself to his feet. He’d never, ever associate with any sort of party, let alone one at a fraternity. But Ray loved that car, his dad’s graduation gift to him that’s been his pride and joy since freshman year. His friend barely even drove it around, afraid to raise the mileage too much. He didn’t doubt Ray’s conviction, or ability, to show it to Peter for going against his wishes, but the engineer was in hot water with the hosting students. One complicated party trick gone wrong, and the front lawn was ablaze quicker than he could control the little ball of plasma. It was their sophomore year, but he still wasn’t welcome near the block of brownstones he managed to devalue.

“Thank you, Egon, I promise I’ll repay you,” Ray’s eyes were glossy with tears as he pressed his face impossibly close to the glass of the window, trying to spot his baby driving somewhere down the street.

Time lessened the heat, Egon thought to himself. It was dark, but not a long walk off campus and a block or two away from the party. It wasn’t hard to find it, either- the music was loud and the bacchanal activities spilled out onto the street and into neighboring yards. No sign of the car. He wrinkled his nose. In the last stretch of freshman year, Peter tried convincing him and Ray to join a fraternity, rattling off a laundry list of reasons that it’d be a thrilling experience for the trio. He was obviously unsuccessful, and dropped the idea when he realized that it’d be hard to make friends in the already tight knit community. 

Egon didn’t dare touch the doorknob, evading people lounging on the stoop as he entered the large house after someone, using his foot to keep the door open. It smelt strongly of booze in the hot, dimly lit apartment, music still blaring from an unknown source. Not to mention the hazy smoke that was billowing through the air, hard to avoid with his height, much like the sounds of two people making out behind the couch. Infection central. How were all these people still going this late? He had to step over the passed out body of some guy without a shirt to get to the kitchen. 

As he stepped from the carpeted area to the tiled floor, arms quickly wrapped around his middle. His head snapped down, and there you were, head buried in his chest.

“Hi, Egon,” you smiled sweetly up at him, eyes glazed over and voice syrupy, not as precise as you made sure it was. He blinked a few times, noticing not only your shoes standing on his, but the fact you called him by his first name.

“Hi.” He reveled in the confusion, before pulling you away from him, gently. “Have you seen Peter? Peter Venkman?”

You thought about it, before the memory flashed back into your recollection. “Dr. Love? He left with my friend Christine.” Your voice slurred the words “left” and “with”, the same way Ray did when he was so smashed he couldn’t stand. Junior year was a sight to behold. 

He remembered how he handled drunken Ray, noting how warm your shoulders were under his fingers. “You’ve been drinking?” He asked despite himself. Being a gentleman was above personal vendetta. It was odd, seeing you dressed like this, out of the professional attire you took pride in every day. Your ability to pick clothes with an anal retentiveness rivals even him- the only college student in a pressed dress shirt, a sweater vest, and slacks. 

“Like, one or five. Itsfine, I’mfine,” you waved your hands around dismissively, before placing them over Egon’s. “I didn’t know you could party, Egie.” He ignored the heat that stung the muscles in his cheeks.

“I don’t.” He went along with it as you started swaying the two of you back and forth lightly. “Did you come with any other friends?”

You went silent, thinking again. It was evidently hard to think and sway, and you eventually fell back into him, unable to keep your balance. “DeanandLisa went to get…food. And they told me to stay here. So I took’a nap.” You nodded to yourself.

“When?”

You couldn’t answer. He peeked sideways at the clock- 3:19. Wherever your friends went, they weren’t going to be back for a long time. 

Your arms were still around him, head back on his chest as his hands hovered over you, awkwardly. It was barely audible, but you were mumbling along to the song playing throughout the rest of the house. He should’ve felt a smug pride, watching you who were once so confident drool on yourself, stumble over your words, and paw at him, but he couldn’t. Egon felt a lash of guilt at the idea of leaving you behind, telling Ray that Peter was long gone, and going to bed. You were obviously inebriated- with no friends and too juiced to know not to sleep on the floor, he couldn’t just let you stay in this dump. 

That’s how he ended up herding you out the door, but not before you stumbled about the apartment, saying good night to everyone. He was on your heels as you banged on a socked-bedroom door, bidding whoever was on the other side farewell, but he wasn’t quick enough before you were shouting your goodbyes down the stairwell of the basement. For being wasted, you were surprisingly fast. He finally got you outside, the skin under his fingers actually cooling as you left the cramped party.

“I didn’t take you to be a party-person,” he confessed, hand on the small of your back to stop you from running across the street to greet the cat staring you down.

“I’m- wait,” you did in fact run, having to kick off your shoes for efficiency before bending down rather ungracefully to pet the feline like a child would, fingers splayed and pushing its ears back unintentionally. He watched on as you skipped back to the sidewalk, grabbing a street sign for stability when you reached him.

“I’m not,” you resumed as he steered you on. “But- it was Christine! She showed me her’fake eyelash…es and convinced me!” You looked to him to share your disbelief as you told the story, shoes waving around as you moved your hands. “I’couldn’t say no!”

Egon found himself smiling. “I have a roommate very similar.” You were surprisingly easier to talk to when drunk. He wasn’t burning up, or scrambling for his words like he normally did when you teased him, making the scientist detest you more and more for your ability to confuse him. His thoughts ceased, as you got closer to campus, but walking with increasing difficulty.

It was when he had to catch you before tripping over yourself that he swallowed his inhibitions, wrapping a hand under you. He wasn’t the strongest out there, maybe even a little weak, but he could support your weight until you reached home. As you let out a small noise of surprise though, he felt a primitive sense of manliness, your figure pressed to his in a bridal carry.

“Soooo strong.” You praised him, voice trailing off as you let your head hit his shoulder. He had to remind himself that you were drunk, none of this really meant anything. You’d wake up, and decide to torment him after taking an aspirin. His grip weakened as his smile did.

“Don’t drop’me,” your hands clawed at the fabric of his shirt, and he adjusted his hold.

“I won’t,” he watched you close your eyes, face content. “I won’t.”

 You were halfway back to the dormitory. He could feel you stirring, looking down and finding your eyes fixed on the night sky. 

“What’s up there?”

“Ursa Major.” You pointed lazily.

“That’s a plane.”

You stiffened in his arms. “No, it’s’not. I know this. It’s the bear.” You managed to cross your arms over yourself while in his hold. He felt bad, provoking you while inebriated. 

“Then it’s the bear.”

“Put me down,” you hit him on the chest a few times, willing him to reluctantly place you on your own two feet. You shook off his attempts at still holding you, intent on trying to make it home on your own. You stormed off along the path, nearly veering off into the grass.

“Where are you going?” He couldn’t hide the concern behind his voice, trying to keep up with you as you took on a sudden irritation towards him.

“Home.” You kept your pace, before slowing, battling something in behind your eyes in your drunken state. “You think I’m dumb.” Egon stopped in his tracks in a moment, before walking behind you again.

“That’s not true,” he said simply, throwing away his feud with you when sober. He thought of you as one of the smartest people he knew. And you managed to make him look like a mere child while baring your smile at him.

“Maybe I’like being drunk,” you retorted to no one in front of you. As you slowed, so did Egon, watching on as you looked on down the dim, street lamp lit path. When he followed your gaze, he saw nothing but the darkness of night ahead of him. Suddenly, you fell forward, uncaring and weightless. He wasn’t quick enough to catch you, heart dropping to his toes before you simply rolled over onto your back. Your knees were scraped, rapidly drying blood mixing with the gravel and dust of the ground over your lacerated skin. Before he could worry too much about it, you merely laughed, full of glee as your eyes were transfixed on the stars, arms out like you were a star yourself. 

You passed out pretty quick after that, a little heavier in his arms. To say Egon was uneasy was an understatement, but at least you were out for a bit. He struggled to get the door to the building open, and even more so getting up to your dormitory floor, only narrowly avoiding hitting your head against a door frame every so often. Taking a quick look at the plates on each door, he was relieved at finding your surname printed on one. After a few discreet knocks, however, no one opened up, either passed out themselves or simply not home. Searching for solutions, he sighed, again, gently laying you against the baseboards. It wasn’t his most elegant idea, but it’d have to do as he reached in his pocket for a pad and paper. He simply scribbled the words “Passed out, sleeping in 244. Please pick up when you get home.” Pressing it in the space between the room number and the wood, he picked you up for the third time and made the trek back to his own place.

You looked peaceful, as Egon decided on putting you in Ray’s bed, alcohol and cotton pads ready. Ray wasn’t home himself- and it’d be unbecoming of him to put you in his own. He hummed to himself, your current state reminding him of the deuteragonist in the play you gave him. They were affluent and sybaritic, imprisoned while drunk and jovial, to the aggravation of the protagonist, tied to tradition and analytical. He hoped that whoever you were in chains with took the liberty of cleaning your open wounds like he did. 

Apparently, the sting of disinfectant is enough to rouse the unconscious awake, as the liquid being pressed to your skin made you jolt back to the present, sucking in air between your teeth and nearly kneeing him in the nose. You rushed to sit up as properly as you could, bringing your legs to your chest.

“What’re you doing?” The pain must’ve been worse in this state. He suddenly felt very, very bad about not waiting until you were awake to take care of it, but he remembered that you couldn’t make proper decisions for yourself like this. He wet another pad, though warily. Who was Egon to say that he could make proper decisions for you, sober or otherwise?

He approached you gently, showing you his materials. “Sanitizing. It could get infected.” Maybe that was a bit overzealous, but germs love untreated, open flesh.

You calmed, letting your legs dangle over the bedside again, the exaggerated idea of losing a leg scarier than the cleaning agent in his hand. “Oh.” He figured you were sobering up, even by a bit, from the way your words slurred less and you clung Ray’s blanket to yourself, night’s activities catching up with your tired body. You looked around as he worked quickly, taking in the room.

“You’re messy.” Egon raised his eyebrows once at that, prepping another pad.

“We’re scientists. And Peter.” He could hear you laugh weakly above him. It felt nice, to make you feel nice. Egon felt oddly at ease, on his knees, cleaning you up- as dubious as it sounded. He moved on to your other leg, remembering your situation. “Would you like to stay here? Your friends aren’t home.”

Silence as he wiped away the grime. Your voice sounded again. “A sleepover.”

He resisted a yawn, letting it escape through his nose before catching sight of the clock. “Sure.”

You didn’t say anything else. Better for him- he was sure you didn’t have a key and he was a terrible locksmith. You were leaning back on your hands.

“My doctor.”

He bit back the smile and blush that spread over his face with a clench of his jaw. You were still drunk, no matter how coherent. And wrong. “Not yet a doctor.” He was done bandaging both your injuries some time ago.

“Doctor Egon,” you drew out the word, giggling to yourself. He’d let it slide, this time. Misused titles were disdainful in academia. But he supposed being a stickler didn’t matter so much, now.

Eventually, he rose to his feet, eyes honing in to a surface level scratch on your cheek from the fall. He held your jaw lighty, thumb careful to not graze too much over it. It wasn’t severe, but he assumed you’d prefer to not have a deep scar there for the entirety of the summer to come. He thought about summer. He’d be here, on an internship, while you’d be away, probably away with your friends again. You’d get drunk, seemingly trusting the people around you far too much until you’re hurt- worse than you are now. Whatever meathead you’d spent the night with wouldn’t know first aid if it was thrown at him. Egon soaked in his jealousy, eyebrows falling over his eyes, before coming back to his senses, soaking one more piece of cotton and gently tapping it to your face, a small adhesive placed to protect it. 

“Kiss to make it better?” He let go of your face, moving to the kitchen sink to wash his hands as you giggled to yourself again. It was awfully late, now.

“You should get some sleep,” he dried his hands off. He would miss you, but time was the only fool-proof remedy- and daylight was quickly approaching.

“No fun,” you complained, but you still settled into Ray’s bed, pulling the comforter around yourself. He contemplated what to do, get into his own bed or just wait for you to sleep instead. You rolled over to face him.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help with the play? I’m not supposed to, though. But I can do the voices.” Right. The play. He eyed the book, forgotten about in the corner of his desk.

“I’d rather you rest.” 

“You should sleep, too.” He could tell you were fighting your own exhaustion. He pulled out his chair, moving Ray’s coil to the side to make work of his assignment again. 

“I’d rather you did, first.” He opened to the page he left off on.

“Egon.” You sounded scarily sober. He turned in his seat to face you.

You freed yourself from the blanket a bit. “You’re tired. You always look tired.” Another state of inebriation was taking hold of you. Maudlin. You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything.

He chewed at the inner part of his bottom lip before speaking again. “You’re very stressed. And you’re going to wake up feeling like hell.” He searched for the right words to convince you to let yourself go. “I’ll sleep too, and we can talk to each other in our dreams.” A little ridiculous, but it’s not the craziest thing he’s said to a tippler.

The hammered part of you was contemplating it, before you smiled and nodded. Before he went back to his work, you called for him one more time.

“Egon?”

“Yes?”

“I need a lullaby.” You had the same devilish, teasing look in your eye as you did when you were sober. He looked around in confusion as you looked towards him expectantly, before he surrendered, winding up a small snow globe that Peter kept out, even in Spring. As it played, you shook your head.

“No, sing the one by Manfred Mann.” He grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it over your head as you laughed uncontrollably to yourself.

“Goodnight.”

Egon had fallen asleep over his book some time later. As he came to, he looked back, hopeful to still see you, sleeping soundly. His hope faltered as he took in the empty space, neither his roommates returned or your spot on Ray’s bed filled in by your shape. There was a strange emptiness in his chest, knowing you were gone in a matter of hours. The only proof of your presence was the used bottle of isopropyl in the corner of his desk.

His breath slowed, light of the early morning burning into his eyes as he slowly rose out of his chair. Walking off, not sure if he was going to shower, or eat, or what, he noticed a small paper on the pillow. He picked it up, wondering if it would disappear in his hands.

“Thank you, Doctor.” He folded it back. You were drunk. It didn’t mean anything. But he still smiled.

[sxilor-1010]

How does Egon being a robot effect the plot of Ghostbusters? Asking as someone with very minimal peripheral understanding of Ghostbusters, but wants to give you an excuse to Go Off. Please educate me about this, I will read the response and be nodding appropriately throughout, even though I have none of the context

Thank you for giving me a chance to go off, and apologies if this ask was answered a few hours late! I got distracted rewatching Frozen Empire with some friends while multitasking on answering this ask- XD TW that there will be mentions of gore at the very beginning. While not shown any images or references (for obvious reasons), I want to put this here so people wouldn't get upset for not putting a warning in the first place.

To sum up a quick basis of this AU During a bust with a pretty nasty Class 7 Demon in a robotics factory, there was... a fatal accident in which Egon was brutally killed. (I'm talking sliced in half horizontally with a decapitated head to rub ectoplasm in the wound.) Out of the other injuries this ghost caused on the guys, (the least injured was Winston while Peter almost getting his eye sliced out of his skull) they were for sure traumatized seeing Egon's head croak with his last living breaths. It was hard to break the news to Janine once they got back, and the funeral was hard to sit through after seeing the stitches on Spengler's body and head in an attempt to make him look like a normal corpse. Safe to say things were awfully quiet around the Firehouse for a good while... Until the four were called to the robotic company by the people running it. The entire thing felt like a Faustian bargain, a promise that seemed too perfect to be true, but it was the least the company could do to make up for the fatal loss of Egon Spengler. It took a bit of convincing and effort in trying to electrically transfer memories and thoughts into a machine while working on the most humanoid body the company could. All the Ghostbusters could do was wait. Then, a delivery at the firehouse doors and a giant human wooden sized crate sat at the front of the door. All of them carried it up to the lab, and opened it. Laying in a heavy amount of packaging peanuts and styrofoam was Egon Spengler. The 'skin' on his body was merely realistic rubber, every detail of any freckles or birthmarks was nailed right down to the bone. His hair, while a bit shiny for any normal human being, remained its beautiful dark brown while looking curly as sheep's wool. It's only when the sounds of whirring and the brightness of blue eyes shined on the four. A couple clicks from Egon's eyes as his head turned to look at his surroundings, his friends... "...Well, this is certainly different."

[n1ghteeea]

UNIVERSITY RGB HCS BC THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO SHARE THEM ‼️‼️

Disclaimer: this only contains Egon, Ray and Peter as they are the ones who were in uni together (sorry Winston and Janine). Also this is long and self indulgent as hell.

I am NOT taking up the responsibility to say at what exact ages they got into uni, but let’s say that during their first year Peter is 18, Ray is 17 and Egon is 19.

Now, Ray is doing electrical engineering, Peter is doing engineering in hopes that it relates to trains (spoilers: it doesn’t, but he doesn’t find out until after his second year), Egon.. well Egon actually isn’t a student, but rather an instructor. I got this idea from an uncited wiki trivia point, and just ran with it. Maybe he was in uni instead of school bc he’s just that smart, maybe something else, idc really. He’s a physics instructor who is the same age as most of his students.

Ray and Peter are roommates and while it takes some time, eventually they bond and become best friends. And when I say best friends, I mean it to an almost unhealthy extent. In my head, Peter was always alone. Absent family, constantly moving around the country, unconventional interests, autism - I don’t think he ever really had friends. In the show we see him TRYING to be a charmer, but most of the time people do not buy his act, and I think the same thing happened in uni. He wanted friends, desperately wanted to fit in, but never really managed to. So when suddenly his roommate turned out to be a great guy who genuinely liked his company he immediately grew almost unhealthily attached. We won’t blame him.

Ray, on the other hand is liked by many due to his kind and charming personality, but doesn’t have many close friends, again, due to his unconventional interests and hyper behaviour towards them (ADHD). He isn’t that bothered by it, though. Good for him.

Now Egon is taking his unique position very seriously. He is no doubt popular at the uni - people have to be curious about this super young, clearly genius and handsome (canon in the show, not my words!) guy who works as an instructor. However, he does not engage in personal conversations, doesn’t seek out human connection or fun activities. He is focused on studying, working, getting experience and progressing in the field. He has many older mentors, but no friends of his age and is perfectly fine with that.

——————————————————————

So, first semester, first year. Both Ray and Peter take Egon’s physics class (though in different sections). Ray and Egon do not interact in class whatsoever, Ray is simply a good student: he studies well and does all his assignments on time (or mostly on time). They have no reason to talk and so do not know each other personally.

Peter, on the other hand, hates physics, finds it extremely boring and useless and makes a loud statement of not studying for it. It upsets Egon, who doesn’t want such morale to spread around his class, so he invites Peter to after-class talks.

This attitude pisses Peter off immensely because the audacity of this guy to tell him what to do and what to study for?? And from that point on Peter makes it his life’s mission to piss Egon off at any chance possible. He doesn’t bully him or set him up in front of people, he just acts like a dick and shows his disrespect in any way he can. Egon doesn’t like him back. This goes on for a while.

Now, aside from classes and physics, Egon also does parapsychological research on the side, as at the end of the day, that is his main area of interest. One day, as he goes into a lab to work on some experiments, he meets Ray who, very expectedly so, is also doing parapsychological research since that is his biggest interest, too. They bond over it and become lab partners and eventually friends.

I also want to specify that a moment when their relationship transforms from formal to friendly is one silly heist of sneaking into the patron section of the uni’s library at night to borrow a book necessary for their work. Adrenaline and oxcytocin do their job well and they go from “Mr. Spengler” and “Mr. Stantz” to “Egon” and “Ray” 🫶

⏩️ Fastforward to the second semester. Neither of the guys are taking Egon’s class anymore, but Ray and him are still working together and progressively becoming better pals by widening their conversation topics as well as hangout occasions. Peter still hates Egon’s guts, luckily they don’t have to meet too often. At least until one day.

That day electricity malfunctions in Egon’s room right when he needs to mark his students’ assignments. As usual, he does it late at night when the library is already closed. Ray, as a good friend, offers him a spot in his and Peter’s room to work which Egon accepts, becoming a horrible surprise to the latter. After spending about fifteen minutes trying to get a reaction out of Spengler with no visible result Peter notices just how exhausted the guy is and for the first time it really hits him that surprise!! Egon is human too. He even grows slightly worried, after all, he doesn’t want the dude to pass out in their living room. They don’t begin interacting more after that, but Peter as if slightly cuts back on the teasing. But he still calls him “Spengs” out of disrespect.

⏩️ Fastforward to the second year. Egon and Ray hang out more, forcing Peter and Egon to interact, and good news! They now tolerate each other. And yes, they do go to “Egon” and “Peter” though “Spengs” and “Mr. Venkman” are still present, mostly to show annoyance and displeasure.

At some point in the semester Ray makes a new close friend named Max and that fact makes Peter crash the fuck out. Ray is super excited about this new guy who also studies engineering, loves comic books and horror movies, is super smart and funny. They hang out a lot and study together and whenever Ray comes back to the room he just cannot shut up about how good of a time he had. And Peter (need I remind you, lonely and self-conscious Peter who was always left behind by everyone in his life, including his father) watches, listens, gritting his teeth, until he just can’t anymore. Did I mention he has an unhealthy obsession with Ray?

He goes through a full mental breakdown, and they talk about it and partially resolve the situation (though the one-sided Max beef in Peter’s head continues, it’s hilarious).

⏩️ Christmas break comes and Ray announces that he is going to be leaving to spend it with his family in Bronx, and only here do we see just to what degree both of these people really are dependent on him.

Peter crashes out, yes, again. He’s lonely, he’s bored, his plans are ruined and he has no idea how he is going to survive three weeks alone in the dorm.

Egon takes it more calmly, he’s Egon, after all. He doesn’t complain or act upset, but two things happen. First, his work slows down significantly, and second, with his support system being gone he falls back into the unhealthy habit of overworking himself to a point of total exhaustion (speaking from experience here, it’s really hard to stay consistent with your healthy habits and routines when the person who is usually there to help you with them isn’t around).

To not die of boredom and exhaustion, Peter and Egon organise hangouts, sometimes sitting in the library and trying to get work done, sometimes watching TV or getting lunch together. Their relationship improves significantly during that time, and Ray is very happy to see that upon arrival.

Not much to say from that point on. All three of them become best friends, Peter switches his concentration to psychology, they rent an apartment together and go on with their academic lives. If I had to somehow describe their relationship I’d say they are a qpr. Not in love whatsoever, but still very emotionally intimate, physically affectionate and are the most important people to each other.

Also they don’t know it yet, but the moment they met each other they met the rest of their lives 🫶

[simp2537]

Moon Helios

a/n: Omg I’m so excited. So much happened this chapter and my Aleksander’s here. Finally took me long enough 😬. The main series starts now! I would like to remind everyone to look at the trigger warning now. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Always please enjoy.

꓄ꃅꀤꌗ ꎇꂦꈤ꓄ ꀤꌗ ꎇꀭꍟꋪꀸꍏꈤ

Word Count: 5,439k

Series trigger warnings:Child abuse, anxiety, religious trauma, racism, manipulation, division of canon, Alina hate?, trauma, ptsd, bullying, insomnia, self-neglect, mental health issues, guilt tripping, cult theme, blood consumption, cannibalism?? Lost of murder, talks of SA in other characters, S/A, Sexual acts, future smut, predatory behavior(not from Aleks) and all other shadow and bone stuff

Act II : The Fold

Chapter Eight

It was nightfall, the clouds has blocked the moon from view. The letters lay heavy in her lap. There was only one she truely wanted to open. Her lovely Drazan who had never once swayed from her loyalties. The letter on tea stained paper smelt of pine. Opening the letter it read.

     To my beloved amber,

The days grow shorter every day that I am not in your presence. All is well enough here, worry not. I’ve taken charge of the youngling’s classes as you requested. Niko has been helping me a great deal. He misses you, I think he still blames himself for your leaving. Lord Egon is still devastated and unmoved. He refuses to join in any of the celebrations. I suppose he only ever enjoyed them because you did. He runs council adequately enough.

 I fear for him sometimes, the other masters grow more brazen with each passing day. Master Kai has demanded my sister’s hand. Arabella has tried to sway our father but to no real avail. I will soon plead my case to Lord Egon, I know he would act in our favor. Master Kai is relentless in his pursuit of her, my little rose bud. I fear for her sometimes, that I will awake and she will be gone. 

I don’t truly know what to do, it would be easier if you were here. You’d fixed this whole thing and probably kill Kai for us. On a happier note Adam has found himself a bride, she’s quite the gem. They are due to be married in the coming year. You would like her, she rather feisty, and always challenging him. She never wins but it gives us all a good laugh. 

Kheli is all the same, he still teaches the youngling’s dance class. He was always more particular about dance than our blades. He has yet to ask Adara to dance with him. It’s rather pitiful to watch. She is always staring right at him too. It’s amazing how much a coward some can be. How I can be

Nevertheless almost everything is well. I fear you will be called back soon. I know you’re busy in the ravkan army. Why you decided to join will never be understood by the others. I hope Alina and Mal are well. I’m sure you’re all still catching up a ton. How’s Maja? I’m sure she misses the smoked meats I would bring her. I miss you greatly. I’m sure we will see one another soon. 

         With all my Love, your Devoted Helios

                                 Drazan Vlaev

Y/n sighed into the air of the night. She too missed Drazan, he was a rare light in her life. The saint herself must’ve sent him to her. She looked about the camp without a care. All these soldiers knew nothing of her faith.

They all looked down at her, like she was less than them for it. A faith they didn’t understand. Cultist they all whispered as she walked. Like she was a mad for believing in a higher power. They had saints, why couldn’t she have just one. 

The Sol Saint was one of prophecy, they had to believe in a being that didn’t exist yet. All Helios were bound by blood to this saint. No one would deny her faith. She bled, She killed she loved, and she would betray anyone for her saint. Those were the sacrifices of a Helios. 

But deep within her  mind, she pondered . Could she sacrifice Alina? Could she sacrifice Mal? Could she sacrifice all those she cared, dear to her heart? For something she wasn’t even sure it was real. Would she do it? This was the kind of question she should be asking herself. She was a Helios first before anything. Before a sister, before a daughter, before a friend. 

She had earned the title that had been bestowed upon her . 

The Blood Helios, none who ever encountered her had left with their lives. She bathed in their blood by herself. And then offered it upon the altar of her saint. 

She was the Blood Helios, and no one would deny it. 

She stood next to Mal as the Skiff was boarded. Maja sat obediently as her side, her snout raised high in the air. Y/n rolled her soldiers hand off her gun to Mal. She pet the soft curls of Maja’s white fur. With the soft roll of her shoulders the armor poured down her body.

From her neck it came like silver tears, slowly enveloping her body. Mal raised his brow as she took the gun back. He stares in awe along with the others whom had never seen the cultist in her armor. Y/n moved to the front where Natacha stood, the Inferni in charge of this skiff.

“Looking as lovely as always.” Y/n smiled at the dark skinned woman before her.

“You’re not to shabby yourself.” The words were soft. The pair had become akin to friends. They often flirted softly with one another, truly it was all playful banter. Y/n turned her head, Alina was on the skiff. What in the world was she doing her. 

Y/n quickly moved over, her small family was arguing quietly. Maja’s eyes followed Alina and Mall tenderly. 

“Alina get off this fucking Skiff.” Y/n grabbed into the girls arm. Alina smirked triumphantly and moved past her. 

“Tell them you’re too sick to go.” Mal pleaded.

“I’m never that sick.” Alina argued.

“Lie if you have to!” Y/n gripping tightly into Alina.

“And what’s your lie? I’m with you.” Y/n shared a look with Mal. She gently pushed her sister it to his side.

“Mal, fix this.” Y/n then turned around, her blood boiling. She smelt the smirk coming off his sister. How stupid could she been. She could all but feel the vibrations of anger coming off the other cartographers. What has her sister done.

Natacha sent her a small look of concern as Y/n stood back by her side. Y/n’s eyes never left Alina’s. She clicked her tongue, Maja moved to her side. The large wolf sat down and growl at any soldier that got too close to her. Natacha clapped her hands moving forwards, Y/n followed suit. 

“Here’s how it goes. We go into the Fold, it gets dark but we like it dark. That keeps us from drawing attention. That’s how we travel. The only light we use is the blue one at the mast.” Y/n kept her eyes on Alina. She looked so defenseless standing alone.

“It’s weak but safe.” Natacha continued. 

“But you’re an Inferni, right? So why are you here if we’re supposed to keep things dark?” Raisa asked. Y/n rolled her eyes at the stupid question, cartographers were the smartest. 

“For when the dark comes to keep you.” Raisa raised her brow. 

“And what’s about the Cultist?” Y/n turned her gaze to the cartographer leader. 

“For when we cannot defeat dark with fire, we send in someone who will devour the darkness.” Natacha’s voice carried an emblem of anger. The other soldiers turned to her with fear in their eyes. Y/n saw the small smirk that was sent her way. 

Natacha never ceased to amuse her, and to feed into the cultist, rumors that many believed about her.

“Where’s your general? Kirigan?” Mal asked. Y/n blinked a few times at the mention of the Darkling. He could stay in the dark where he bathed. The skiffs sail was released and the  skiff jutted forwards.

“That’s our cue.” Natacha and Y/n moved in sync. Y/n now stood at the front of the skiff and Natacha by the blue light. From above the squaller began to move the skiff towards the fold. 

Natacha sent a small nod towards Y/n, with a smile the Helios moved towards her sister’s side. Y/n stood in front of her as the small ribbon holding her hair back came loose. From the front the sergeant began to speak, but these words did not matter in her mind.

Alina was on a skiff, Mal was in this skiff. The two people she never wanted to see the inside of the fold. The heavy winds blew her hair back, the ribbon followed off. Y/n barely turned her head to look at it. Alina’s scarf had too come off. 

She watched the two pieces of fabric float through the wind. Her eyes followed them till they passed the dock. On the dock a man stood, shrouded in black. He watched the skiff so intently, Y/n knew he couldn’t she see herself staring back at him. 

It didn’t matter, as Alina sough out her armored hand. Y/n clutched it softly as Mal. came to her side.

“I’m pretty sure this the first time I’ve seen you all armored up.” Mal’s words should’ve brought a smile to her face. It didn’t.

“In we go.” Natacha mumbled. Y/n reached to her side, pulling out the small cuff. It was of pure gold and has a sun rested in its middle. She placed it in her forearm. The metal infused with her silver armor, a soft glow embroidered it. 

From her hand a crossbow of light emerged, an arrow already knocked in it. The glow died down quickly as she raised the crossbow. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Alina and Mal were now her top priority. All others could be forsaken. 

The darkness enveloped her body, it as oddly warm to her. It encased her, welcomed her home as it always did. Opening her eyes she listened to the growling of the Volcra that flew around them. She could feel every vibration they caused. Terror coated Alina’s face as she clung onto Y/n. 

As the skiff moved slowly, Y/n watched the darkened sky’s. When the first marker approached she rolled her shoulders. The holy cuff didn’t shine as it did in the sunlight. It was muted now, but no less dangerous.

“Marker one.” Natacha voiced as she passed the two sisters. Alina looked behind her to the Inferni.

“How many more are there?” Y/n opened her mouth to soothe her sister. Not many Y/n would lie.

“Thirty seven.” Natacha said walking away. Y/n sighed softly as she watched Alina’s face drop. Mal looked back at the two sisters. With a nod from Y/n he tore his gaze away. The anger Y/n felt was all the same, Alina should not be there. 

The volcra above screeched and growled as they flew. The rhythmic vibrations of there wings was enough to lull Y/n to sleep. It seemed to push at her eyelids, to force them down. She could never listen to closely to the volcra or she would sleep.

Raisa’s accusatory gaze found Alina’s as they passed a fallen ship. A particularly loud growl frightened the gunman into to ready positions. Y/n remained where she was. She pushed Alina to sit on the floor as she joined the grisha. They moved about the skiff quietly, but no where near as silent as Y/n. 

With all the armor on she was still as silent as snow. Slowly the blue light began to go out. Natacha moved to it quickly, hitting the glass. Y/n quickly moved next to her and opened the lantern. She sprinkled in a soft blue powder from a small pouch at her side. She blowed softly on it, the blue flame caught once more. 

Natacha and Y/n shared a calm look for a few seconds till the sound of a lighter interrupted the peace. Y/n whipped around to see one of the soldiers holding a lit lantern. A tremble seemed to be through the air. 

“Blow it out! What are you doing?” Natacha whispered, there was a tremor in her. From behind the boy came growling. Horrible, gut wrenching growling. From behind the boy a Volcra rose to its full height. Y/n shot out the golden arrow from her bow quickly. 

The Volcra screeched and flew away with a limp. It was all too late though. Another Volcra swarmed down, grabbing the boy. It bit down onto his leg and flew off no matter how many arrows she shot. The lantern fell down, its fire quickly emerging across the wooden boards.

From all around the Volcra growled. Y/n looked back at Alina, she was crouching next to the fire. Y/n stood in front of her sister, crossbow knocked with another arrow. Like the demons they were the Volcra swept through the skiff. The squaller moving the skiff was gone next. 

Y/n began to fire automatically, each golden arrow erupted in sunlight when piercing the flesh of the Volcra. They reappeared after every shot fire. Raisa was gone next, the Volcra having taking a bite of her shoulder. The blood drips onto her face as the Volcra carried her away. Y/n dropped down, shielding Alina as the side broke down in flames.

Y/n stood back up her hands going back to her cross bow. She fired each arrow as a body fell next to her. Alina’s vibrations were quivering as she shrunk away from the man’s still moving corpse. Y/n coughed as smoke rose up. Her helmet slowly infused into her neck.

Y/n pulled the thing off, she needed to be able to see Alina. Her eyes drifted for a seconds to Mal. A Volcra swept over him dangerously close. Y/n shot out an arrow. It wasn’t fast enough. Mal ducked before the Volcra could grab him. The crossbow disappears in a buff of gold as she reached down. 

She pulled the twin daggers from her side, lodging them into a Volcra that swept too close to her. They cried out in pain as she raised her hand, the daggers flying back to their master. This was a suicide mission and Y/n knew it. Not many would survive this. 

Y/n looked down at Alina for a seconds. She knelt down and handed her sister a dagger.

It was a subtle plead.

“Don’t move.” She commanded as she moved away. She couldn’t let all these people die, it would be a shame to her abilities if she couldn’t save them. Her dangers flew from her hands and came back. It was like a dance as she moved quickly around the skiff, killing any Volcra in her path.

Maja barked wildly, attacking all the Volcra in sight. The ones that got to close to her and Alina that was. Her teeth were coated in black. 

“Come at me! Come at me you cowards!” Natacha screamed as a Volcra took her by the shoulder. Y/n threw herself forward towards the Volcra. Her dagger flew into its neck as she tore its head from its body. It’s blackened blood sprayed all over her as she caught Natacha in her arms.

She was breathing hoarsely, there was a hold in her neck. Y/n pushed her hands into the large wound on her shoulder. Tears flooded her eyes, this wasn’t happening. Natacha had always been kind to her. Didn’t care for her extreme faith. 

“No no no no no no! NO! Don’t close your eyes!” Y/n held her friends tore body as she died. Her blue kefta was destroyed as she laid down her body. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not to them. Y/n stood up and her daggers formed into large swords. They sliced the Volcra clean in half before two grisha.

Y/n heard screaming, Mal’s screams. She turned around, sweat and blood dripping down her face. She threw herself forward quickly. Blood seemed to envelope her vision as she stabbed into the flying demon. Mal’s body dropped down as Y/n pieced its wings. The stupid animal dropped down, its blood all over her. Y/n coughed as the blood dripped into her mouth. 

She crawl desperately over to Mal, who was held by Alina. She hadn’t protected them like she promised. She failed them. She gripped into Mal’s other hands as the chaos continued around them. She could feel his vibrations, they weren’t as strong as normal. 

She failed.

Tears covered his face as she whispered his name, “Mal?” Maja whined softly and licked the side of his face. 

The fire flickered around, its lights illuminating her face. The two sisters clung into him as nothing else seemed to exist. Her mouth tasted of iron and rot. She could help but sob as she held him. Her family, her small family was about to be smaller.

His vibrations echoed in her ears as she sniffled. Alina cried at her side as they held him. They two refused to let go of him. Her armor fell she clung to him, his skin to buzz. She felt a ringing in her ears, like a twinkle. 

“I’ll meet you two at the meadow.” His words froze her sobs as he spoke. She couldn’t let such a thing happen. She cried softly as she felt wind blow around her. Alina was pulled up, a volcra’s claws around her waist. No……

Y/n still clutching Mal’s hand threw herself up. Her bare hand caught into Alina’s, fear and panic all over her face. It was warm, as she clung into her family her body became warm. A light began to grow out of her body and she clung to them. 

Light exploded from her body, the overwhelming sensation grew as another source of light grew with her. It surrounded around the skiff, throwing the shadows back from the world. Then her world was blank.

Everything was foggy, her vision, her hearing her mind. She could feel every vibration around them. The heavy hands around her, as her legs laid limp. They dragged her to gods know where. She was bleeding, somewhere in her body she was bleeding. Probably her leg, it felt like it was on fire.

Where was Alina. 

Where was her sister…..

Well her saint she supposed. She watched it happen, her sister could summon light. Alina has saved them all. What was left of them she guessed. 

She could hear the loud and quickly movement of the guards, the healer that ran next to them.

“Mal…. Lina…..Maja….” She coughed as she felt a bone boop back into place. 

“Careful! Are going to hurt her dragging g her like that!” The healers voice was timid but loud. The men dragged her didn’t listen as she moved. Her ears rung, she could feel the blood dripping down her ears. Her armor was covered in a thick layer of blood.

Maja barked loudly as she followed. The men tried to kick at her. Y/n jerked away ready to kill them for trying to hurt her wolf. Maja growls as she followed them. Her fur was covered in black. Y/n knew how much she hates to be messy. She would give her sweet girl a nice hot bath once this was over. 

She opened her eyes to a fuzzy worlds. Grisha moved out of her way, dread coating their faces. She must’ve looked like animal, wounded and bloody. Her hair fell, covering her face. 

“Where is she?” The healer squeaked at the sound of her voice, rough and dangerous. The young healer and blinked a few times as she held her hands together.

“Behind us,” She paused looking at the man dragged Y/n. “Stop dragging her like that! You’re going to break her arm.” They did not listen as the healer followed them. The black tent was moved aside and she was forced in. Her knees hit the ground, her armor clanking. She coughed for a seconds and took in a breath.

She focused herself, listening to the vibrations of the world. A hush has fallen over the tent. It opened once more and she felt Alina. Her eyes jumped open as she felt her sister pull away from the guards. Alina’s trembling hands wound around her shoulder. The cold bits of armor touching her sister’s skin.

Y/n hugged her sister tightly, her hand resting atop her head. Alina smelt of smoke, not the normal scent. Her legs and body was weak. But she smiled at Alina as the girl pulled back. 

“Bring them closer.” Her eyes snapped to the voice before her. He stood, back to them as guards grabbed into the girls. Her elbow forced its way to a guards face when her tried to grab Alina. She stood on her shaking legs, hiding her sister behind her.

She took a small step for them, Alina clung to Y/n. Her smaller frame hidden behind the grime covered armor of her sister. Y/n would not let this man anywhere near her sister. Her…. Her saint. 

Slowly the man turned, her eyes went blank. It was him. The Darkling, The black general, the shadow summoner. He was the man who plagued her dreams. His dark eyes were the ones that she would think about. 

Alina grabbed onto Y/n’s hand, her armor now covered her once more. Y/n glare at him, piecing into those dark eyes like she never had.  If only looks could kill. 

“Closer.” His words were like honey to her ears. All she could feel now was him. His vibrations were steady, like an unmoving mountain with the force to shake the earth. Y/n would not submit and move closer.

She remained right where she stood. A pillar of strength and might. A Helios ready to slaughter any in her path. Alina gently nudged her, obviously afraid of reprisals. Y/n took a small step, Alina followed behind.

“Well?” He asked. The glare did not leave her face. She studied him, he was perfect. At every angle he was perfect. Just like in every dream he was perfect. He was taller than her, like in her dreams.

“Well what?…” After a few seconds Alina timidly added, “Sir.” 

She hated the way Alina sounded so afraid. The way she hide behind the strength that her sister held. Her hand trembled still.

“What are you? His gaze wasn’t on Alina. They two stared deeply into the other. Y/n’s e/c eyes refused to break away. His dark origins watched her every move. Like a hawk he stared at Y/n.

“Alina Starkov, Assistant Cartographer, Royal Corps of Surveyors.” Alina trembled. She didn’t speak, she didn’t owe the Darkling the luxury of her name. His eyes didn’t leave hers. He just waited in silence for her name. Glaring at him she relented.

“Y/n Starkov, Private Commander, Royal Corps of Combat, Blood Helios of the First Army” His lips perked up at the sound of her voice. She didn’t like that at all. 

“They’re all gone.” Alina mumbled.

“It’s our fault. That’s why we’re here ain’t it?” She whispered clinging into Y/n’s hand. The Darkling raised his hand suddenly. 

“Answer the question.” Why was he speaking like that. Why was he staring at her. They way he spoke, moving like he was trying to coax a frightened doe towards himself. Is that what he thought her? A scared doe? And not the blood thirsty beast. Maja growled as the Darkling slowly leaded against the table behind him. 

“What are you?” Y/n felt Alina flicker, she was confused.

“A mapmaker, sir.”

“A Helios.” They laughed. A growl came from Maja and Y/n in sync. They dared to laugh int here faces. Where was the honor in this grisha.

“Quiet.” They all went silent. Maja too quiet down and sat by her side. He hadn’t even raised his voice an ounce. He made Maja just sit down by her side. No one had even done such a thing to her wolf.

The Darkling stared at her, his eyes trailing down her. He tore his eyes away looking around the tent. 

“So who actually saw what happened?” There was a hush over the crowd. His eyes turned to the dirty Suli girl at there side. She was one of the grisha whom she decapitated the Volcra in front of.

“Zoya? You manned the main sail.” His voice was a bit more harsh now. A twinkle of anger was on his face.

“We were attacked barely two markers in.” Zoya swallowed and continued. “Someone lit a lantern.” His eyes trailed back to Y/n’s. 

“And?” 

“The Volcra went after the ruffle man and our Inferni first, the Cultist tired to kill most of them but-

“Cultist?” He asked. She moved her eyes to Zoya, they seemed to darken. Y/n had saved her life. Ungrateful fucking girl. Cultist they still called her. After she saved them they would still call her cultist. 

Zoya frozen back a little upon the question. She looked back at Y/n and the Darkling seemed to make the connection.

“The armored one was killing the Volcra.” Zoya restated. She couldn’t even be bothered to call her what she was. Helios, was it that hard to remember. The Darkling nodded in her direction, his eyes never leaving Y/n.

“And then there was a searing light, one white and other a more silver color.” Zoya finished.

“It was them.” The other voice rang out. Y/n glare at the man who spoke. Alina hid further behind Y/n.

“Our Helios and mapmaker.” He tilted his head.

“Is this true? Can you both summon light?” Alina shook her head in shocked. The Darkling followed her motion mocking her. He mocked her sister. Her saint! The fear that radiated off Alina was enough to make Y/n want to kill this Darkling. 

“Where did you grow up?” Y/n wasn’t sure how to answer. For her first twelve years it was in Keramzin, but after that it was in the sanctuary. She wouldn’t tell him where her home was. She didn’t need to.

“Keramzin.” Alina muttered, The Darkling’s eyes remained on her own. Like he expected a different answer. He would get none. 

“And when were you tested.” Never, that was only answer. They hadn’t been properly tested. The scars on their hands were proof enough.

“You don’t remember?” He asked. She pushed Alina further behind her body as the Darkling moved towards them.

“Well let us just make certain.” Every step he took was a personal attack. He removed his ring and pushed a small claw like blade from it. She felt Alina quiver in her grip. Her heart sank to the bottom pits of death as she took a step back.

“Lift up your sleeve,” He paused looking at her. “Remove your armor.” He stood right above her. She didn’t think, the dagger manifested before she could stop herself. It pressed into his stomach as she clutched it. 

“Move closer, and I will gut your intestines out and shove them down your throat.” A collective gasp rang through the tent. The oprichniki took a step towards her, the threat that she was. He simply waved them off, like fussing children.

“Why do they call you cultist?” He softly asked, the faintest of smirks on his face. She twisted the blade in her grip. 

“Because I have killed and will kill for my faith.” He hummed once. Her heart began to beat loudly in her ears. Its intensity changed, beating harder with every pulse. She choked in her breath as the dagger hit the floor. 

She stood there as she felt her body begin to shift. Her gaze tired to the other grisha, the ones in red kefta’s. One of them had his hands together, he was messing with her. It wasn’t enough to shake her though. She coughed softly as she took long slow breathes.

Another soon joined him, then another, and another till all the Heartrender’s stood firm. Her body sank to the ground as she fought the effects. Blood dripped down her nose, mouth and ears. She coughed as she tried to force her way back up. 

The Darkling took small steps around her. His eyes never leaving her fighting crumpled form. She watched in horror as he grabbed onto her sister, her Alina. Maja growled and barked loudly, piercing through all their ears. However the wolf refused to leave Y/n’s side as she tried to fight.

The room began to buzz as she hands shook. The vibrations of every living thing amplified. The heartrender’s hands began to shake as the dark room began to shift. Slowly she lifted her body, fighting there manipulations of her body with her own. 

The first grisha who stood to stop her glare, his harsh eyes trying to force her back down. It was too late now, her armor had deflected most of the others. Her vibrations only grew as others covered their ears. 

The moment she stood up right a wave of light hit her. She body froze as she watched. From the small cut came a blaze of light. It was the sun ten fold. Her mind was blank. Alina really was her saint. The very saint she was supposed to protect with her life. 

She fell to one knee in shock as the lights slowly faded away. Alina’s eyes drifted over to Y/n’s so fearful of what she was. The two sisters didn’t have words. What words could they express.

Alina was her saint. The being she’d been worshiping since childhood. A saint that was prophesied to come. No one knew when, it was an old tale. 

Y/n had killed for her, in the name of her sister. Her saint that she never knew about. How could she now know. Before the globes, before she left she held Alina. Held her hand, her body so many times. 

The two were always cut up, maybe that was why. She couldn’t move as the oprichniki grabbed into her. She watched for a few fleeting seconds as they dragged her sister away. 

Her body flew up trying to follow. A right hand gripped into her arm. She looked back and there he was. The Darkling. Her natural enemy. What was she to do now. She pulled away, she wiped at the blood. 

“Where are you taking her!” He tilted his head. 

“What are you.” Again with such a stupid question. 

“Where is she going?” He stared down at her, marveled at what we before him. She blinked a few times, unsure. 

“Let your armor fall.” Scoffed out loud, her eyes rolling back. She would sooner die, she would sooner kill every single person in the tent than let him any closer. Maja barked loudly, he sighed once. 

The same heartrender from before held his hands up. Whining Maja slowly laid down, her eyes fluttering. She felt his arm tightly around her. She jerked away, trying to reach her wolf. 

“Stop it! What are you doing! STOP IT!” She yelled. He just looked at her, like a predator would its prey. He has no idea she was the apex in this situation. His gaze was so strange as she jerked her arm. 

“Lower your armor.” She didn’t stop, he froze for a moment then added a gentle, “Please.”

She sighed as the armor slowly rang back up her body. Her uniform was tattered and blood seeped through the pants. Her pulled her closer, his grip around her sleeve. She could smell him, it was intoxicating. She looked up at him, her mask breaking for a moment.

She was afraid, angrily she was afraid. What kind of soldier was she to be afraid of her enemy. That was how wars were so often lost. His hand gently grabbed her broken sleeve pulling it up. 

His bare hand went to regrab her. She shock for a few seconds, terror engulfed her. It was like the water was forcing its way down her lungs once more. Her secret was about to be exposed to her enemy. Her breath left her body in pieces.

“Please… don’t.” She’d never begged before. His eye softened as his bare fingers brushed against her flesh. They just stared for a while. Something inside her changed, like a small switch was flipped. His grip became more prominent and there it was. Shadows erupted from him, casting themselves all over. 

And then without so much as a prick she was glowing. Her body was warm as silver began to spread out of her body. It was like a ragged inferno that only grew. Around them the shadows mixed with her silver, twisting and braiding together. 

Gasps came from all those in the tent, it was like eating the formation of a star. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe as it all stopped. A real smile came onto his lips as she stood horrified. 

Blasphemy…. That was what her life now was. She was blasphemous. 

“A moon summoner…” He paused and then there was a softer voice. “And an amplifier.”

She was ruined now, nothing would save her now. 

Divider create goes to @astralnymphh

[former-gbsecretary]

Dianthus caryophyllus

“You painted your nails blue.”

His voice carried as Janine Melnitz had bent over to scratch the ear of the kitten who had come bounding over the moment the red beetle came to a stop in the driveway of the farmhouse.

“I thought the color looked nice.”

“You look nicer in red.”

She smiled, fluffing her red, curly hair with one hand as he huffed,

“And the perm?”

“No, just stopped using relaxer.”

“I liked your hair shorter.”

“Egon, come here and help me with your groceries before I beat your ass.” Egon Spengler let out a huff before walking up to her and she hugged him, “I don’t like the beard… and your hair’s really getting grey.”

He feels her head in his shirt as he rests his chin on her hair.

It smells like coconuts… that same tropically scented shampoo she’s used for years. He doesn’t like the hair…

He misses the brown hair… misses when it was cut short…

Janine took in the smell of dirt and ash that clung to his clothes from working in the lab.

By the time they get inside, he’s already grumbling about her choices of groceries.

“I don’t need carrots Janine.”

“You need to eat something other than frozen dinners. They’re awful for you and you already have high blood pressure.”

“I already told you, I’m not taking those medicines.”

“Just eat better and maybe your blood pressure would go down.”

“And I’m not spending money on all of this just for me. It’s bad enough I have to go into town for cat food.”

“I never said you had to buy it either, Egon.” When she shrugs off her jacket to the sleeveless shirt, Egon can see the scarring that ran on her shoulder blade. She reassured him she didn’t blame him…

But he’d been so lost one night. He’d been convinced she wasn’t real… and his paranoia had taken over.

“I can feel you staring.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No more than yours do.”

He steps forward… before pulling his arms around her…

Their fingers interlace and they just stand there. There aren’t many words they can say, not really. If they spoke… both feared what could come out of their mouths. Maybe Egon would mumble an apology… maybe Janine would say the feelings that lie just below the surface between her cooking and visits.

But if either of them said a word… this would end.

Because she hated to hear his apologies that didn’t mean anything.

Because he never felt the same way towards her.

So, they stay quiet. Taking in the moment for what they could. And if they keep things the way they were meant she could imagine something that’d never happen and he could act like he hadn’t hurt her. And they chose to remain there…

“I think I’m going to buy flowers to plant in your landscaping.” Janine said as she lay awake in bed, her eyes staring up at the ceiling as Spark crawled under the covers, curling up at her side like he’d always belonged there.

He shifted to lay on his side, brown eyes resting on her, squinting slightly without his glasses.

“They’ll die.”

“At least they’ll look pretty while I’m here.”

He huffed out of his nose, “I have enough trouble with your feral mint.”

They stayed quiet for a little, before he offered his hand to her. She took his hand and sighed as he shifted to lay on his back. They both stared upwards…

For a second, if she closed her eyes… It was the night after the battle with Gozer. They’d been in her apartment, a shower offer that went a little too far after a little too much to drink and an explosion of frustration and fear and what they later agreed was the explosion of impulses following a catastrophic event. She remembered laying next to him…

He’d left before she’d gotten up the next morning. They’d never discussed it again.

But she remembered the smell of him on her sheets.

“What are these?” He mumbled, coming outside with cold mint tea in two mugs.

“Red carnations.”

“Those will die, Janine. You’re in the wrong zone.”

“I think they look pretty.”

“I’m not watering them.”

“I never asked you to.”

“Not everything will grow here against my wishes. Besides, I’ll dig it up when I work.”

“I never asked you to take care of it, Egon. I just wanted to see something other than dirt.”

“I already took care of the damn cat.”

“Let me have this.” Her accent clipped her words, the anger behind her words.

“Fine…” he huffed resigned.

The wood on the porch creaked as he sat down, and she brushed off her hands before sitting next to him. Their feet hung off the side as they looked out at the otherwise rundown farmhouse. She took a drink,

“Saw a picture of Oscar off Dana’s facebook.”

“Oscar… god he has to be…”

“He’s grown now. Just graduated. Good looking boy, wasn’t too badly influenced by Peter.”

“Good… Venkman used to convince Raymond to do all sorts of things back in the day.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet for a long time.

Quiet.

They’d gotten used to that. It wasn’t really about flowers. Or groceries. Or scars. Or cats. Or friends now nothing more than a Facebook account checked or a news article to come across. It was about what he did. What she gave up. About endless attempts at a scrap of an old memory buried in too much liquor and regret. And a man who chased ghosts, good intentioned but with a trail of ruin behind him. And the woman who followed, like a moth to a flame. Who stayed because her good intentions came from the same love he held for the people he longed to protect.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Conversation About Death with Those Who Laugh

So, another one for the Ghostbusters au. I'm telling you, stick with me here. This is a reader x König, don't get me wrong, but I like keeping him in the basement as my nasty little science gremlin.

I had a crush on Egon as a kid. Is it a surprise I cast König as Egon? We will never know.

TW: Conversation about death and religion

Wordcount: 2.5K

Story below cut

A Conversation About Death with Those Who Laugh

You opened your locker and sighed.

You knew this was coming, there was no way around it, but it still didn’t help with the knowledge that you’d be looking like you were a paper bag princess running around with a blaster pack strapped to your back until you either kicked the bucket or gave up on paying rent on time. Of the two options, you figured you’d rather be stuck in the brown jumpsuit than out on the streets.

You pulled out your suit to get a better look at it, not even bothering to even attempt to hide the sheer contempt you held on your face for the offensive clothing.

“It’s not pretty, but it’s damn useful,” Roze called from behind you.

You turned around to face her with a raised eyebrow.

“Useful? This?” you shook the garment for extra measure.

“Sure is,” Roze nodded as she leaned against a wooden pole, “you know, it’s insulated so you won’t get blasted by anybody’s proton packs. That, and it cleans up real easy.”

“Does it get sweaty?” you asked before taking a tentative sniff of the rubber suit.

“Nah,” Roze flipped her hair from her face, “unless you count getting slimed.”

You gave her a dark look that only made the older woman laugh.

“You heard me. Slimed. Just ask Horangi about it.”

You shook your head before turning back to your locker. You hoped you could do something to spruce it up with time, but seeing as it was still just your first day on the job, you had more important things to think about. Namely, how your self esteem will handle wearing the shittiest uniform you’d ever had the misfortune of laying your eyes upon.

“Who even designed this thing?” you grumbled as you forced your feet through the pants.

“Blame König,” Roze snorted, “he wanted it to be puke green.”

“Fucking… Ugh.”

You managed to drape the uniform over yourself before zipping up the front. At the very least, the utility belt helped pinch in the waist to give it a bit more form. It still looked horrible. At the very least, the washed out brown looked better than whatever König had in mind.

You turned to look at your back in the mirror, where the logo of the company sat square on your back.

“Look at you!” Roze whistled, “you’re rocking it”

“Thanks,” you grumbled, “I look like shit.”

“Better than barf,” Roze reminded you.

“Whoever this König guy is, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind when I see him,” you muttered under your breath.

“He’s just European,” Roze shrugged.

“Isn’t Paris in Europe?” you huffed, “he could at least get a fashion designer or something to help…”

“We’re too cheap for Gucci,” Roze sauntered over to your side, “but you’re better off with than without. Cleaning out ectoplasm ain’t no easy task.”

“You’re really hammering in this ‘ghost busting’ business, aren’t you?” you snarked as Roze put her fists on her hips.

She shifted her weight to one leg and sighed, “You’re not getting it. We really do hunt ghosts. They’re real as you and me.”

“I’ve never seen any ghosts,” you retorted, “I thought you guys were scientists. Aren’t you all about tangible evidence or something?”

“Oh you’ll see ‘em soon enough,” Roze chuckled.

“You keep saying that,” you adjusted your hefty utility belt, “but I’ve seen nothing so far.”

“Look,” Roze put her hand on your shoulder, “you’re new. Why don’t you talk to Nikto? He was just like you when he came on the force. If you won’t believe me, maybe talk to someone who came here just like you.”

You locked eyes with her, holding her dark stare for a brief moment before tch-ing and looking back at the mirror.

“We’ll see.”

—

You strolled into the breakroom and plopped yourself down in the seat across from Nikto. You couldn’t see his eyes behind the mask, but the way his head twitched was enough for you to feel like he at the very least acknowledged you. Or, well, you hoped that’s what it meant.

“So…” you drew out carefully as you stirred your drink, “you came here from where again?”

“Russia,” Nikto pulled his mask’s shroud out to duck his cup of coffee behind it and take a long slurp.

“Russia?” you perked up, “where abouts in Russia?”

Nikto tilted his head before snorting, “What would it be to you? You wouldn’t know the name.”

“So not Moscow?” you smiled sheepishly.

“No,” he chuckled, “on the opposite side of the country.”

You nodded along, “Yeah I wouldn’t have any idea where that is. But what I’m really asking is why did you come all the way to New York?”

Nikto hummed and swayed his head thoughtfully before saying, “I wanted to get away from home. So I decided to come here, where I could get a new life.”

“But why did you come here, to the Ghostbusters?” you pressed.

“They were the first people to hire me,” Nikto lowered his now empty coffee cup to the scuffed folding table, “I didn’t know much english, so they were good for helping me learn.”

“So you didn’t come here because you believed in ghosts,” you concluded, falling back into your white folding chair with your arms crossed.

Nikto was silent as he examined you, his dark eyes flicking over you from deep within the recesses of his shoddy Scream mask.

“Somewhat,” he admitted quietly, “in my village, my mother would tell me ghost stories to help me sleep. Small town people live differently. Ghosts and spirits, little men, they all have a place at home. But I grew older and went to the city, and I forgot what I learned back home.”

“And then you came here.”

Nikto nodded slowly, “Then I came here. All those bedtimes stories I had laughed at were real! Imagine my surprise.”

“What made you change your mind?” you gave him a curious look.

He shrugged a shoulder and said, “I saw them. It is hard not to believe your eyes.”

“Okay but it could just be-”

“It is harder to not believe when they attack you.”

Well that was different.

“They… Attack you?” you carefully asked.

“Well of course!” Nikto chuckled heartily, “Roze explained it to me long ago, but this is what I remember. Ghosts are the leftovers of life. When a living thing does not feel that they are finished when they die, a ghost will be left behind. They are not really people anymore. They’re more… Emotions. Wants, needs. They are the shadows of what a person was.”

“So when you stop a ghost from doing what it wants to do…” you trailed off.

Nikto’s eyes crinkled with mirth, “That’s right. They get angry.”

The high salary of the job was making sense now.

“So how do you fight a ghost?” you asked, giving Nikto the benefit of the doubt.

“Roze and Horangi made a box to put them in, and König made a gun to shoot them with,” Nikto spoke frankly, “I like the shooting, but the trapping is not so fun.”

“So you’re like…” you rolled your wrist as you struggled to find an appropriate simile, “pest control or something.”

“Exactly,” Nikto affirmed, “we clean up pests.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Nikto was so straightforward, you’d have assumed he was completely insane. The idea of being a ghost exterminator was completely insane.

“How can a ghost even be a pest?” you scoffed, “it’s just a ghost.”

As Nikto was about to speak, Roze bustled into the room and sat down at the table.

“We’re talking about ghost busting?” she leaned in with a wide smile.

“You explain it to the recruit. You’re better at this than I am,” Nikto crossed his arms and slumped back into his chair, evidently relieved by Roze’s sudden appearance.

“Okay so, what’re you asking about? What makes ghosts? Where they come from? Where they go? What they’re made of? What they do-”

“Why do you need to get rid of them?” you butt in before Roze could run out of air. The thought of making the poor woman pass out on the first day wasn’t exactly on the top of your priority list.

You were brought out of your daze when Roze grinned wildly and slammed her fists on the table.

“Alright! We’re asking these kinda questions!” she cheered, “okay, so, first things first, you know what makes them?”

You shrugged as Nikto cast a curious eye to you, “Nikto said that they were made of emotions left behind by a dead person?”

Nikto nodded his head side to side, not quite satisfied with your answer but Roze was quicker to reply.

“Okay so yes and no,” Roze pulled out a blank piece of paper and a blue uniball pen, “so, ghosts are impressions of the recently deceased, yes, but they’re so much more! See, ghosts are mostly left behind by the living, but not all ghosts.” Roze drew a person, then a drawing of multiple stick men. She pointed at the singular person. “So when ghosts are left behind by a single person, they’re mostly just annoying. They just cause problems in the area around where they died. Depending on the type of person the person was in life, it determines the radius of the distance they can travel from the point where they died.

“When ghosts are created by a single person, they’re normally not too powerful, but they can sure be obnoxious. They can cause all sorts of problems, from causing damage to the foundations of the building they’re in to even physically attacking anyone who comes within their radius. It really depends.”

Roze drew the tip of her pen over to the drawing of a group of people and tapped it twice, “Now this is the bigger issue. When people come together to believe in something, it can create an entity all on its own. This is not something living that has died, this is something that was created entirely by the emotions of the living. Now, they’re some cool examples of this!

“Some figures from folklore can be ghosts, like dragons and unicorns and giants and all that. The boogeyman is a particularly powerful entity that haunts mostly young children. That’s right! It’s real! If a child believes in the boogeyman, they can be visited by the entity.”

You waved your hand with a scoff, “You’re telling me dragons are real? You’re fucking joking.”

Roze leveled you with a grim expression, “Oh they are more than real. They are incredibly dangerous, but that’s beside the point. Thing is, sometimes when people believe in things enough, it creates them. Monsters of myth can be created this way. Or, they can be a bit more dangerous.”

“More dangerous than a dragon?” you shook your head, “pft, get real.”

Roze rolled her eyes but turned back to the paper and started drawing again. Soon, a rudimentary drawing of an animal on an altar appeared.

“Is that meant to be a dog?” Nikto squinted at the paper.

“That’s a lamb! Get some eyes on ya, Nikto,” Roze huffed, but carried on with a quick tap of her pen, “so yeah, when humans come together to believe in something in a religious sense, like in a cult, they can create entire gods to control the universe.”

“So God is a ghost?” you drawled.

“No clue,” Roze admitted, “I have been trying to do more research, but I’m banned from every catholic church in the city.”

“In the entirety of New York City?” you blinked.

“Yeah but that’s another story,” Roze waved you off, “point is, it’s particularly dangerous when there are cults. So sometimes, with cults, they can want to exchange a lack of morality with a ‘higher power’. So when a cult truly believes they are dealing with a devil, if they believe enough and believe for long enough, a demonic entity can actually form.”

Nikto shivered across from you, making chills crawl up your spine. Something about the big scary Russian man being scared of a single word rubbed you the wrong way.

“So if demons are real, does that mean angels are too?” you asked.

“Some,” Roze nodded, “but you’d be surprised how many worship demons.”

“They create monsters they cannot control,” Nikto spat.

You glanced between the two. You hoped they were both clinically insane because the severity of their expressions spoke volumes you did not wish to hear.

��So how often do we, uh, deal with the devil or whatever?” you asked nervously, tensing with the change of atmosphere in the room.

Nikto and Roze exchanged a glance.

“Not often,” Roze cast you a half-hearted smile.

“Too much for comfort,” Nikto muttered under his breath.

“But hey!” Roze broke out into a full grin, “you won’t have to deal with one anytime soon!”

“Hopefully,” Nikto grumbled.

“Hopefully,” Roze admitted, “but still! I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

You nodded along with the information. The more you learned, the more you wanted to believe in what these people were telling you. Maybe it was just the end result of the repetition of a lie, but a part of you felt there was something deeper to what they were talking about. Anyways, why would you get a six figure salary for doing nothing? Something was amiss.

“So, you usually just deal with the regular old, you know, ‘boo’ ghost? Right?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah,” Roze leaned back in her chair, “smooth sailing for the most part.”

“So who even calls you?” you asked.

“Mostly people who need help with a haunting,” Roze flipped her hair from her face.

“But how do they know that they’re being haunted?” you scrunched your eyebrows together.

“What else do they have to turn to?” Nikto chuckled, “we’re a last resort.”

“So how do you know if there’s been a haunting?” you lay your hands on your stomach as you leaned into your chair.

“Lots of signs,” Roze shrugged, “could be slime oozing from the walls, mysterious writing on the mirrors, unexplained noises, things being moved around, but the real thing you gotta worry about is if they report scratch or bite marks,” Roze shot your a serious look, “any type of physical harm is a reason to worry.”

You nodded slowly as you took it all in. You still wanted to fight, tell them ghosts aren’t real and dig your heels in to spite your fate. The only problem was that Roze and Nikto didn’t seem crazy in the slightest, but were making more and more sense as they spoke. Nothing they were saying contradicted itself.

You wanted to ask more, but just as you opened your mouth, a blaring siren cut through the air like a banshee’s wail. You ducked and covered your ears but Roze and Nikto were on their feet in an instant.

“Whelp,” Roze took your elbow to help you stand up straight again, “looks like it’s time to figure it all out for yourself.”

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