#( i appeared out of nowhere like a ghost in a graveyard )

[ghcstao3]

ghost doesn’t talk about his family. he just… doesn’t. maybe he doesn’t feel a need for it, maybe it’s to keep that part of his life private (which would be understandable, if soap didn’t already know every other part of his life), or maybe… maybe there are other reasons.

so when ghost asks soap if he’d like to meet them, soap feels that he’s understandably nervous.

it’s a long enough drive from ghost’s flat. there isn’t much indication as to where he plans to go, how long he plans on driving—and it certainly doesn’t help that soap is unfamiliar with the region. but he can’t find it in himself to be bothered, not when he gets to spend time with ghost anyway.

soap had wanted to dress a little more formally, make a good impression—but ghost had just shook his head and said it wasn’t necessary. that his current outfit of jeans and a t-shirt would be plenty fine. soap concedes, but it doesn’t ease his anxiety in the slightest.

then they’re turning into the parking lot of a church.

it’s not quite the middle of nowhere, but it’s not busy, either. the church itself is simple, small, but well-kept. it’s graveyard, too.

which appears to be where ghost is leading them.

soap’s anxiety is immediately replaced with a sort of… melancholy.

his heart aches when ghost sits himself down in the grass, in front of four gravestones all paired with the surname riley. it hurts even more when he sits beside ghost, seeing the forlorn expression on his face.

“they’d have loved you, i think,” ghost says. it’s the first time he’s spoken since they’d left his flat. “‘specially jo. he might’ve actually appreciated the mohawk.”

soap laughs quietly, gently bumping ghost’s shoulder with his. “finally, someone with taste.”

ghost snorts, then they’re settling into a new silence as they sit pressed together, observing the headstones.

soap’s head falls onto ghost’s shoulder as he lets out a soft sigh.

“tell me about them?” soap requests.

after a moment, ghost shrugs. “s’pose i didn’t bring you here for nothing.”

it’s almost as sad as it is heartwarming, watching ghost’s face as he describes his loved ones. and while soap would have loved to have been able to properly meet them like he’d initially thought, and while he’s sure ghost wishes the same—it’s still enough, seeing and understanding their importance to ghost, to simon, through his stories alone.

maybe in another universe, the world is kinder to the man that deserves so much peace.

[rosemariad]

SUPERNATURAL SEASON 15 - final season - part 1 - i finally made it to the bitter end

Jack’s dead :/ and it does seem like the hunts (at least from the earlier seasons) 😓😱 have been undone as we see some familiar ghosts and some new ones running around trying to kill the helpless townspeople nearby. Sam & Dean try to do some damage control after a new demon swoops in to bail them out of the overrun graveyard. Sam manages to convince the local sheriff about getting everyone evacuated into a nearby high school that will conveniently be out of range for a spell Belphegor proposes to contain the bloodthirsty ghosts.

Meanwhile Sam’s starting to feel the consequences of his attempted God assassination (only you Sam — fitting considering what He wanted you to become) as a wound appears on his shoulder that’s probably not gonna heal. Cas certainly can’t do anything about.

Side note - I guess Jack ain’t getting a funeral huh 😒

While Dean mothers his baby bro at the end of the premiere episode, he momentarily laments how futile his life feels while Sam tries to keep the hope alive that they’ll find some way out of the mother of all shitstorms they’re in right now as for one of the final arcs of the show the brothers take on God Himself in rebellion for the lives He made them live? 🤷🏽‍♀️

Cas finds some time with Dean later in 15x02 after Dean made it clear that he’s still super steamed about Castiel dropping the ball where Jack & Mary are concerned. But he’s not just mad about last season.

Dean’s pissed about the whole show (as he should be considering how his story ends) cuz it’s clear to Dean that their lives were never their own, as God had been pulling the strings the whole time, trapping the Winchesters in a maze to more or less see what Sam and Dean would do with the roles bestowed upon them. And where they are now, the position God has put them in, it all seems so…pointless. Dean thought he was fighting the good fight, but probably feels no different than a puppet. As he put it, he’s a hamster in a wheel and he’s been running this whole time— going absolutely nowhere. So Dean does what he does best and projects his feelings onto the person he’s talking to that can conveniently relate to what Dean is going through himself and make it seem like it’s just them - this time it just happens to be Cas.

But Cas tries to get through to Dean by pointing out 1 very super important thing.

Which I think is important cuz sure Chuck wanted Sam & dean to be these rough & tough boys who kick ass, fuck chicks and drink tons of liquor, but Cas was never part of the overall plan. God probably kept bringing him back from the dead just so that the Winchesters had a useful ally (which may be why Cas has at times never felt like he belonged with Dean [and/or Sam] and felt his friendship with the brothers was contingent on his utility) but Cas wasn’t supposed to have the profound bond he does with Dean. So even though these 2 are on the outs (forgive him, Dean you stubborn dumbass), their relationship is still a rebellion, an aberration, this unplanned, unforeseen thing that God can’t control (or doesn’t bother to as He doesn’t see it as much of a threat, after all the deal Cas made with the Empty still stands 🤬)

Kevin’s back! I should be happy but apparently he’s been condemned - of course he is. Let’s make him suffer as much as possible😡. No one got done dirtier than this kid. Not Adam, not Charlie, not the Harvelles. Adam had Michael. The Harvelles got each other. Charlie (I hope) found peace. But Kevin died alone, he died young and he never got peace. NEVER.

Are these like super ghosts or something because Rowena just sat back and let them threaten her?

And ghosts can consume each other? Kevin almost became part of…jack the ripper? 🤦🏾‍♀️

God went to see Amara, who’s been chillaxing in Reno with a personal masseuse and is surprised to see her bro. When did they part ways?

Sam apparently did do some damage to God even though the aim was to kill Him. When God touches His wound, Sam feels that. Amara ditches her brother when she realizes the true reason of his visit. She makes it clear she’s done playing by His rules.

Man, she is so dead.

Amara mentioned she was trapped…is God stuck in this one universe cuz of the flesh wound? Oooooooo.

Meanwhile, with some teamwork Rowena & Dean defeat the ghost we’ve been following in these first 2 episodes BUT cuz of what God has unleashed there’s plenty more where they came from. They keep coming.

So this ghost-apocalypse is the last major end of days crap? Little early in the season so I'm sure there will be other shenanigans. But definitely On theme for supernatural. Ghost hunting was their bread and butter once upon a time.

Rowena tells the guys that they’re screwed as it’s only a matter of time before the warding breaks down and millions/billions of ghosts get their tons of flesh from all the unlucky humans lying in wait to be massacred.

Dean’s willing to fight with his 1 shotgun and finite supply of bullets 🤣🤣🤣🤣 like boy sit down.

He calls Chuck a fanboy, like uh Dean that fanboy is the master & creator of the universe. He made you! If anyone gets the last word, it’s Him.

On a positive note, where there’s billions of souls in Hell, there’s trillions in Heaven. So in this universe more people go to Heaven than Hell. That’s nice ☺️

Anyway, dean puts Cas on grunt work - that motherfucker 🤬. He doesn’t even ask, he just orders Cas to go with Belphegor and retrieve the horn/staff/whatever from hell they need, and he knows Cas will go because he has to know right? That Cas is entirely devoted to him (cuz Cas is in lurv-) just cuz you love him Cas doesn’t mean you let dean push you around. Stand up for yourself!

Cas does the Dean thing and projects HIS feelings when speaking to the demon, saying that Sam & Dean are just using Belphegor and they don’t actually like him 😭🥺😓

I’m loving the Cas moments in this episode, he kills some random demon, then has to sing to open a box 🤣 we should’ve seen that whole part 🤣 too bad a new demon baddie is interfering just as Cas gets the box open.

Belphegor reveals his plot 😒, he aims to do what Cas did at the end of season 6 but with Hell’s souls instead of Purgatory. No Leviathans this time I hope.

Lol Rowena & Sam are holding hands lemme stop 🤣

Cas WTF are you waiting for move it! Don’t get trapped in hell!

He stays just long enough to hand Belphegor his own ass, all in Jack’s corpse and the body is smote a 2nd time 😭

Chuck really hates Cas doesn’t he? Just keeps punishing this poor angel man - payback for how many times he’s broken the rules.

Rowena comes up with plan B, by ripping out her resurrection doohickey and declares that she must sacrifice herself to take down all the ghosts running around, throwing herself into hell and trapping the souls with her where they belong. She says she’s not doing this to save the world, only because she knows that Sam is the one who was meant to kill her. I guess she’s tired of waiting for her own demise.

Rowena, we hardly knew ye…dies to become queen of Hell like her son before her 🤣 well things sorta worked out for her didn’t they? Too bad her son is lost & forgotten to time. And her grandson is in…Heaven? 🤷🏽‍♀️

I think she died the most noble death on the show. She took her fate into her own hands and sacrificed herself for the greater good and…it WASN’T in vain. What she did, actually worked.

Why you gotta take shit out on sexy baby Cas? You know he feels bad about what happened. And then you're astonished to see him walk away. I feel like that pissed Dean off more. How much tongue lashing is the angel supposed to take dumbass? You can only talk shit to him so much before he decides to walk away like duh.

I don’t think Dean doesn’t care though. He wouldn’t be so upset if he didn’t care. If he truly didn’t care, he’d just straight kill Cas with an angel blade. I think Dean regretted what he said when he said it but was too proud to take it back. Every time I see Cas walk away I hear will you leave me now by Chicago.

Sam is dreaming about becoming the evil Chuck envisioned and killing his brother. We got a flash of that in 15x02 no?

Ugh veggie bacon. I’m sorry its just…ugh. I can’t eat any fake meat. Does things to my throat…anyway.

Dean calls himself the meat man 🤣 ofc he does. He should listen to Sam though, meat man means…other things 😈

Becky’s alive, and finally found that special someone. They have kids together?! But they look too old to be hers (she was single less than 8 years ago?) maybe she’s a stepmom. But I guess it’s a father-children trip so Becky’s left alone and chuck visits her. While she’s still a die hard SPN fan, she’s channeled that energy into making merch and selling it on Etsy. I think in the real world she might get sued but hey yay for her.

Becky still thinks Chuck is just a prophet 😅 I'm glad she regrets what she did to Sam in 7x08. and she’s kept up with her fan-fiction (hopefully she stopped the Wincest smut - #brothersnotlovers)

While the brothers are off solving a monster of the week case, with a bit of a twist (one of the high school kids is a vamp and his parents were trying to help him get away with murder and food by way of his classmates), Chuck tries to get Becky back on the bandwagon like she used to be — I'm glad Becky stood up for herself though. But she also inspires Chuck to start writing again and even though his rough draft left much to be desired (subtle, as much could be said about how the show has been lol, I'm pretty sure folks have said the same things Becky was saying in one form or another), his second draft horrifies Becky

Makes you wonder what she read? Anything to do with vampires and some rebar??? 🤨

Too bad she and her whole family die though. I say die cuz there’s no way we’re ever gonna see them again.

It just doesn’t pay to be a fan huh…

It’s adorable that think Sam & Dean think they’re ‘free’, that Chuck is gone. Do they really not understand? God is God. He’s not done until He says He’s done. it’s been made clear He’s not done til the brothers kill each other. So on another case, they start to see that (why didn’t you ask about Cas, Sam? Hm?) in the form of 2 brothers - spoiler alert, they’re werewolves. When the story ends in inevitable murder-suicide, the plot twist emerges as the young blonde is revealed to be Lilith incarnate. She’s returned (thanks to Chuck) as a…messenger? She came for the new fancy gun God made for the Winchesters last season. When she fucks them up, Dean convinces her to run off with him in a bullshit lie/surrender tactic to get Lilith away from Sam. When the brothers try to escape, Lilith stops them, correctly assumes the gun is in the glovebox of the Impala & proceeds to destroy the gun right in front of the guys.

Back in the bunker (where’s Cas gone? Sam tried to reach him yet again) the brothers ruminate over how extra shitty their situation is. That gun wasn’t gonna help you.

It would’ve been cool if at this point the brothers realize they can take the fight to God in a new way. Not rebellion specifically and certainly not violence (they have no weapon to kill Him with). God made the Winchesters in his image, as rooting, tooting badass hunters who drink, fight & fuck their way across the continental US of A. So, stop doing that. Stop the drinking (and the eating of bad junk food it’s not good for you and it’s starting to show Dean you’re basically 40 now), stop the meaningless fighting and as for the fucking lol…maybe Sam finds someone to settle down with and Dean dares to explore his sexuality…with a certain angel …who’s totally in love with — wishful thinking though. Right?

So while Sam tries to track God, (HA!) and Lilith, Dean’s hunkered down in his room & eating his feelings 😔 the poor unfortunate soul is just beaten down from all the misfortune since its been made clear there’s no fucking hope.

CAS is back! Yay! And he’s gone…fishing? If only he took Dean with him but that whole situation is fucked…just like Dean’s life 🤣😭 he stumbles his way into a case while renting a place in the town he’s holed up in, and ends up having to call Dean when the sheriff demands to talk to Castiel’s FBI supervisor. Oof. That was rough, but Dean only mentions that Sam was trying to reach out and to check his messages. And he warned cas about Chuck.

How convenient that Rowena wrote down all the magic she’d done. And of course Rowena was working on a spell that could be applied to Eileen instead of motherfucking Kevin, who’s been dead for way fucking longer 🤬🤬🤬

While Eileen & Sam get reacquainted Dean runs off to Texas on a lead for a new case, and he just seems so depressed. It could just be me & the doom and gloom of the final season and all but the smiles don’t match the eyes you know? And Dean bullshits with the best of them. He runs into an old pal who suckers him into some singing but all the reminiscing on old times can’t make the plot twist hurt less. The reason Lee quit hunting is he found a money making monster - all it requires is continuous human sacrifice. So Dean kills the monster and then he kills his old bestie after Lee says his monologue about how pointless the fight is.

While Dean has his Texas adventure Cas returns (with no mention of his latest fallout with Dean - does Sam even know about their spat???) To work on Sam’s wound as he thinks it can help lead them to Chuck. All Cas manages to do is make Sam worse 🤦🏾‍♀️ He has to reach out to former MoL contact Sergei who comes to the bunker after Cas makes a super direct threat on his life. Pretty sure the angel was motivated not to further enrage Dean (if Dean were to discover Cas endangered his precious Sammy’s life) but Sergei makes even worse & tries to bargain for a key to Death’s library? Huh. Wonder if that’ll come in play later…🙄

Cas claps back tho as he expected Sergei to scheme and had Alt-Bobby follow Sergei’s relative (and here I thought he was bullshitting about being with his niece when he took Castiel’s call) so Sergei realizes he’s beat and puts Sam back the way the Moose was. But Sergei’s trick was useful for Sam in 1 regard as the younger Winchester got some insight into Chuck’s recent happenings.

Dean rushes back to his baby bro for an awkward run in with Cas who asserts Sam’s ok (now). I laugh when Sam tells the others they can beat God. Like, He’s omnipresent, He’s probably listening to you right now…do they not realize that?

Meanwhile the big G.O.D. Went to some casino to rig a slot machine to win every single time in the midst of countless corpses, sparing only 1 woman to serve him cocktails while he plays. So…what was the purpose of all this, to show how far God has fallen? Dude, just like have Him decimate a country or something. Sink some islands. Like real end of days shit! Weak…pfft.

Dean brings forth the demon tablet (honestly they fucked up destroying the angel tablet, that one would’ve made more sense) and they make some weak argument that because God made these tablets it was for the intent in case the demons and angels (and Leviathan or are we not gonna bring them up, they were the first ones we got a tablet on) went out of control — and bullshit! Lilith is basically God’s goon at this point as we see her and Michael have a quick chat in some diner where Adam is FINALLY, FINALLY out of the godforsaken Cage. My. Lord. It literally took the boy a decade to be free (sort of, he’s still stuck with Michael but doesn’t seem to hate it so much). Kid’s got a great attitude after the last 10 (human) years he’s had to live through.

The winchesters bring Donatello back to translate the tablet they have and he finds some notes BUT God intercedes, speaking through the prophet like a puppet, proving my exact point - Chuck is constantly watching these dudes whenever the fuck he wants. He just doesn’t take them seriously. It’s like they’re taking the most powerful entity in existence and reducing him to a general Big Bad. Like don’t have God just threaten. Make Him do shit! Shit that makes you jump and scream and go 😱

Anyway - ugh I love how Cas & Dean are still on the outs but when Dean had to bleed for a spell Cas is willing to heal him 🥺 and Dean lets him 🥺

Rowena can see the tension, picks it up right away and merely asserts that Dean & Cas have to fix it, makes sure Sam’s outta earshot too, since she figures Sam is out of the loop (and she figured right!)

Since it’s clear to the guys that Michael got out of the cage (FINALLY!) we get to see Adam eat a burger (he hasn’t lost his love for them I see😂😂 and the good vibe is ruined when Lilith approaches the archangel and he smites her out of existence (thank goodness) then makes the awed humans at the diner forget what they saw. Cas lures Michael into an angel trap (the holy fire circle) and the Winchesters give mike the 411 but Michael turns it around on them and makes the brothers face Adam.

This kid seriously has the best attitude ever! Like if he wanted to kill them, who would blame him? I sure wouldn’t. But he certainly doesn’t forgive them (so he says). But Michael won’t hear how bad God has become. It’s not until Cas shows him clips from the past couple of years that Michael to accept the reality of the situation.

Not Cas saying Luci was right 🤣

So Michael hands over a spell that may seal God away in a cage and pops open a door to purgatory so Team Destiel can acquire the final ingredient. Yay! But God lured Eileen (and Sam who she brought with him, probably like Chuck wanted) into a trap and takes them back to the casino (why a casino though, honestly?)

Chuck reveals that Eileen is back because of Him as Sam did exactly as God ordained. As if that was a surprise - He ain’t the master & creator of the universe for nothing. He’s about to torture Sam But Eileen tries to sneak call Dean so big bro can know what’s up but Chuck (breaks?) tosses the phone away, ending the call. Dean’s about to run over to Sam like the mama bird he is but Cas stops him.

Yes, speak up for yourself Cas – tell Dean what it is! I'm loving the tension/drama though 😏

But Chuck does reveal that he can’t see Sam because it was Sam who shot him? He mentioned Sam specifically, so he can only watch Dean? Or is it that wherever Sam is he can’t observe??? Then what was that power play with Donatello about?! (Make it make sense writers)

Sam calls out Chuck for being a BITCH - actually Eileen does and for her trouble Chuck makes her a torture puppet and has her gouge Sam while Chuck gets to watch. So petty.

Chuck then says that there is a chance Team Free Will can defeat Him - so long as Dean & Cas don’t fuck up — they’re screwed. And chuck starts to show sam glimpses of the supposed future.

Hasn’t sam been getting more visions of fratricide throughout this season? Per Chuck, they’re moments from other universes where Sam & Dean succumbed to their fates and fratricidal tendencies.

Sam & Dean become vampires (AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA), Jody & Bobby kill Sam, Dean drains Jody - that suuuuuuucks (hehe, get it?)

No that seriously sucked.

Not Cas taking on the mark to seal away God! He’d be helping to fulfill the future Sam saw, no!

Oh thank God, Sam, by dropping the ball (orb) you avoided the very grim future for Cas.

About that FINAL Destiel scene: https://www.tumblr.com/rosemariad/761296693532803072/the-bitter-end-spn-15x18-despair-about-that

About the SERIES FINALE EPISODE ‘CARRY ON’ 15x20 https://www.tumblr.com/rosemariad/761299089485889536/supernatural-season-15-the-bitter-end-series

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Merida

Merida placed the joss stick in its holder, as she did every day. The faint scent of incense invaded her nostrils, and she sneezed. This made the girl in front of her let out a little giggle. The pair sat there, contemplating the faintly burning joss stick.

"Thank you for putting that there. My parents never honored my choice of religion while I was alive. I'm glad someone does now," the ghost girl said, after a while. It was strange hearing such solemn words from what seemed to be a nine year old, but Merida was used to strange things. Ghosts always appeared as children, whether they died of old age or were stillborn. "I will not forget your kindness, Cazarsa. I owe you a boon. Should you ever be in need of help, simply call me."

Cazarsa. It always warmed her heart to hear the phrase. In the language of the dead, it vaguely meant 'ally', but with an air of gratitude and friendship. Ghosts did not use the phrase lightly. "It was my pleasure to help you. I hope the starlight shines on you as you dance beneath the full moon," Merida said politely.

"And I hope the sun warms your soul and Kurall favors you in all that you do," the ghost responded automatically, before bowing. Then Merida picked up her bag and headed off to school, leaving the graveyard as the grey morning light stole away the darkness of night. It was the time of the living, and the ghosts would soon be away, lest the exorcists catch them.

Merida Ryder spent her dawns and twilights helping the ghosts. Ofttimes, all they needed was something as small as a vase of flowers or a copy of the new reboot of their favorite show. They had come to accept her as a middleman, someone to guard them from the cold cruelties of the exorcists. She warned them of the approach of any exorcists, and they did not hunt the living. It created a peace most attributed to the nearly savage zeal with which the exorcists hunted ghosts.

Merida slipped between two cars, strolling up along the street that led to her secondary school. A few ghosts resided there, along with a spirit. They were the most frequent recipients of her gifts and assistance, for she needed their favors the most. The moment she walked through the school gates, she felt a presence at her side. 

Without looking at him, she said, "What's up, Hans?" Hans was the spirit, a strange creature that never showed his face. He and he alone traded in artifacts, requesting her to go through esoteric channels to find the most incomprehensible magical objects in existence. On the other hand, his favors were far more practical than most, especially for chasing off exorcists. Most exorcists had no interest in getting into a fight with a genuine spirit, since they were unable to bully them around. It meant the difference between a painful second death and afterlife for many ghosts, so Merida tried to keep a few of his favors on hand at all times.

Nevertheless, she never truly trusted the spirit, though she rather liked him. He was far too powerful to be lurking in the middle of nowhere twiddling his thumbs. "The exorcist has brought her weapons to school again. It seems she plans on killing someone today. You might want to warn the ghosts," Hans remarked blandly. 

"Thank you for the information." She had to get back into her school persona, she reminded herself sternly. It would not do for her sister to discover that she was the one feeding information about the exorcists to the ghosts, and speaking with the formality of the dead would give her away instantly. "Don't talk to me until after school. I don't wanna get caught by her."

As the presence left her side, Merida turned around. "Actually, could you warn them for me? I'm afraid I can't make my usual rounds. I forgot my homework at school yesterday." She felt him nod assent, then disappear.

The school was old, and with age came death. The ghost-mice scurried along the corridors, unbeknownst to the vast majority of the students, and Merida dropped crumbs for them as she went, crumbling the cookies for her lunch. "Go home, little ones. It's dangerous out here. The school exorcist is making her rounds," Merida murmured. The mice took the hint, disappearing into the walls and the pipes. Hopefully they would carry the message to all the other ghosts.

Keeping her eyes on the slate floor tiles, Merida hunched her shoulders and tried to blend into the crowd of youths who gabbled amongst each other and spilled drinks and had a deep-seated prejudice against the dead, never considering that they too would become ghosts one day. Grey locker doors swung open and closed, and Merida avoided them as she made her way to the hall. 

She settled down in a corner, trying to blend in with the faded white paint of the walls, praying that the exorcist would not find her. But she had neither the skill nor the luck of the ghosts, as Miranda Ryder, youngest exorcist in the 42nd Corps, approached her.

"I need you to be on your best behavior. I'm doing a presentation on exorcism today, and the press is coming to see it. I don't want you screwing it up again. Got it?" Merida shied away, glueing her eyes to the floor. 

"Look at me, damn it! Merida, this is important. There are more bigwigs coming here than I can shake a stick at. Even the head of my corps is coming here. This could mean a promotion!" Miranda all but shouted at her, and she curled up even tighter into a ball, closing her eyes tightly. The head of the corps? There were going to be far too many exorcists at the school for the number of ghosts Merida was trying to hide. It was dangerous, far too dangerous, and Merida felt her heart sink.

No matter what she did today, someone was going to die.

A sob caught her throat at the thought. "Stop that. You're not a little kid anymore. You don't get to throw tantrums every time you don't get your way," Miranda told her angrily, before striding off. Merida stopped her, terrified of what was to come.

"I want to help you. I'm sick of being in the background. Just let me be your assistant, just for a day?" If she could find out more, she might be able to minimize the loss of life. She might be able to avoid the piles of corpses, the dead who died again leaking ectoplasm. It had taken her weeks before she could get rid of the phantom sensation of sticky ectoplasm, and months to stop bursting into tears at the mere sight of the school last time.

Miranda raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You'd better not. In any case, I need to show that you're not the same batshit crazy bitch who threw a tantrum when we got rid of those pests at the school," she told Merida. "You really embarrassed me last time. Maybe this will make up for your idiocy."

Merida blinked back tears at the word 'pests', and kept her mouth shut. Monsters, she thought. How could anyone call a sentient being a pest? Even if they are dead, what does it matter? They still have feelings. Her fingers clenched the greying hand-me-down school skirt she wore. The blood flowing through her burned her flesh, bitter with anger.

But she could not hate the exorcists. She understood how dangerous the ghosts were. Part of her life, and Miranda's, involved stopping the ghosts from ripping open the guts of the living and feasting on them.

They both brought safety to the living, in polar ways. One with death, the other by preserving life. Of course, in the classic style of humanity, bloodshed was favored over the quiet negotiation and peace.

They walked up onto stage, and Miranda handed her a sheet of paper. "These are your lines. Don't fuck them up, got it?" Merida nodded dumbly. 

In front of them, the school's populace settled into their morning positions, a sea of white shirts and black pants. Merida pulled her eyes away from them to look at the script. It consisted of a few lines, mostly prompting segments of Miranda's speech. 

As she read further, she realized that Miranda planned on showing the school an actual demonstration of an exorcism, on an actual ghost. That pig-faced bitch! She's going to murder someone in front of us all?! And they will all applaud and cheer at the extermination of a monster… Merida had to do something. But what? 

The exorcist jostled her elbow, and Merida realized that they were starting. 

"Good morning everyone! I'm certain you all recognize me. I'm Miranda Ryder," Miranda said, before nudging her again.

Her line, according to the script, was 'and I'm (insert name)!' In a fit of pique, Merida said, "And I'm insert name!" 

A scattering of snickers gave Merida the courage to continue, taking over Miranda's lines. "On this fine, ever so sunny day, we are going to talk about the murder and torture of the dead! Or as you all call it, exorcism!" The lines were not strictly in the script, but Merida felt it summed up the content perfectly.

"And since I know you all know what exorcism is about, given how much they shove it down our throats, let's just skip to the fun bit, shall we?! We're going to do an elaborate ritual to kill an innocent ghost! I wonder who it is… Maybe one of your ancestors, or the soul of a beloved friend?" Miranda tried to cut in, livid at her for turning her speech into a train wreck, but Merida was on a roll. 

"While our beloved exorcist fetches the victim, I'll tell you the truth about ghosts, shall I? You know those stories about the dark times where ghosts stole away unsuspecting children, eating them alive?" Merida waited for them to nod, and they did. 

"Well, it was true. Ghosts do drink human blood. They do it to further their after-lives. They choose children because they look like children, and because children are easily manipulated. They get the child to trust them, then they take the child off to a dark corner and they drink their blood!" Miranda had stopped protesting, and was listening curiously.

"I was the victim of this when I was five. I made an imaginary friend, and followed him to the forest one day. If my sister had not saved me, I would have been devoured by a hungry ghost. Even as it is, I still have the scar," Merida said as she pulled up her shirt, exposing her midriff. It was covered in jagged scars, as though a chainsaw had scraped across her chest. A collective gasp resounded through the hall, as people gaped at the horrific evil of the ghosts.

"Guess you aren't gonna fuck this up again," Miranda muttered. "I'll bring the ghost out. I'm glad you've finally stopped being a fuckwit."

Merida ignored her. "These ghosts have done things to rival the cruelties of the most infamous serial killers. Worse, they exploit the very thing that makes children children; their innocence. These creatures are child predators! Wouldn't you agree?" 

There were wholehearted cheers from the teachers, many of whom had kids of their own. "Exterminate the ghosts!" Someone in the back cried.

"They're just like the human scum we give death sentences to, right?!" The response was deafening, and Merida was filled with horror at their support for mass genocide. These people… Do they not realize they are killing humans? Have they not made the connection? Simply because they are dead does not change the fact that they were human once! 

"That's because they are," Merida said. The half a thousand people in the room hushed, confused by the sudden turn. "These ghosts you hate so much are the very same serial killers that society reviles. Stop to consider. Ghosts are just the souls of the dead. Serial killers and rapists and general human scum have souls too, yes?" 

The people nodded uncertainly. Behind her, Miranda had stopped to listen, and Merida gestured for her to get a move on. She did, and Merida continued.

"And therein lies the problem. These disturbing crimes against humanity are being committed by a tiny portion of ghosts. Most ghosts, just like their living counterparts, simply want to live their after-lives in peace. An exorcist's job is to eradicate these evil ghosts."

She let them simmer in that, as Miranda wheeled a massive cage, made of cold iron, with a long velvet curtain draped over it. Its bars were wide and flat, covered in an enchantment meant to contain ghosts. Merida nearly gagged at the terrifying aura of the cage. It was slimy, like ectoplasm, and putrid, magical rot embedded into metal. It was a cage meant for cruelties, made to corrupt and corrode.

"Please, let me out," someone said from within. Merida recognized that voice immediately. It was the girl she had visited in the morning. 

As one, the audience gasped in excitement. Ghosts were normally only perceptible to children and those with magical talent. Merida placed her hands on the velvet cloth. "I'll get you out, miss. Just play along for now, okay?" The girl reached out to the small gap between the bars and touched Merida's hand. Her fingers were cold, even through the thick layer of velvet.

"I trust you, Cazarsa," the girl whispered. Internally, Merida cursed herself for forgetting to warn the ghosts beyond the school. They were in as much danger as the rest.

"Well, shall we?" Miranda gave her a tight-lipped smile, rightfully suspicious of her whispered communication with the ghost. Merida nodded.

Together, they dragged the curtain off the cage, revealing the ghost. She was an absolute mess, with ichor running down her cheeks, tears of the dead, and wide, terrified gray eyes. She floated in the center of the cage, curled into a foetal position in an attempt to get as far from the cage as possible. Merida felt horribly uncomfortable being in the vicinity of the cage. She could not imagine how infinitely worse the girl felt.

"Look at this horrible criminal! This peddler of evil, participant in the most vile of sins! Dearest sister, will you please tell us all what crimes this inhuman filth has committed?" Merida placed as much emphasis on the 'crime' the girl had committed as possible. If they saw she was innocent, Merida might be able to convince the exorcists to let the ghosts be, if only for a while. 

Maybe there was a chance to stop the bloodshed.

Miranda instantly saw the minefield she had set up. Her eyes hardened, lips flattening into a line. She said nothing.

"I will tell you what I did to deserve this," the ghost girl said, uncurling herself. Her tattered clothes were stained with ichor and ectoplasm, and her eyes were red from crying, but she still managed a semblance of dignity. 

"What are you doing?! Get down!" Merida hissed urgently at her. She was going to ruin the entire thing!

"No, Cazarsa. I must speak. My horrible crime, as you put it, was being young and stupid. I was a drug addict, a New Age fool who thought getting high was the key to enlightenment. I had a teenage rebellion, went for the religion that seemed most likely to piss off my parents, and joined a community of equally foolish youth. Some of the adults in this room might remember doing the same."

"The only difference is, I did not survive. It was two days from my coming of age, when I got run over. I was in the middle of the road, higher than the top of a skyscraper, when I got hit by a man rushing his pregnant wife to hospital. I did not come back to haunt them. I do not hold a grudge against them."

"Yes, I did drugs. Yes, I did stupid things. But I paid for them in blood and the tears of my loved ones. I came back for them, to say sorry, to tell them that I had been stupid. I do not care that they did not respect my religion, or even acknowledge my presence at the funeral. But I forgive them."

"I am not a ghost of revenge, or of evil. I am a ghost of regret, one made to sit and contemplate my own foolishness for the rest of eternity, to find peace and lead others to it. That is my crime, if you so wish to prosecute me for it," The girl spoke eloquently, projecting her voice throughout the room. There was no way anyone could not have heard it, and Merida thanked Ina for her mercy. 

The room had fallen completely silent, all eyes and ears on the ghost girl. The cameras of the journalists were pointed right at them, and Merida knew she had scored a point for ghostkind. 

Finally, someone said, "That's not a crime at all!" 

"Yeah! She's a good person!"

"Let go of her!"

Echoes of the sentiment reverberated around the room. Merida turned to the girl and raised an eyebrow.

"I used to win prizes for my public speaking and impromptu speeches," she admitted sheepishly. 

"Thank Ina for that," Merida whispered, then corrected herself. "Kurall, I mean." 

Miranda surveyed the hall with a poker face. "You knew this was going to happen," she said accusingly.

"I did not. All I know is that I cannot let the exorcists to continue harming innocents, whether they are alive or dead," Merida replied.

"This time you've gone too far. You're a traitor to your own kind, and I'm going to stop you," Miranda snarled, pulling a gun out of her jacket.

Everything happened in a blur. Merida instinctively ducked as the gun fired, diving towards the floor, but she was not fast enough. Sharp, bloody pain filled her shoulder.

Merida looked up, confused and in agony. "You shot me! But… I'm your sister!" 

Miranda stared down at her with dead eyes. "Not anymore," she said dispassionately. She lowered the gun slightly, aiming it at Merida's head. 

This is the end, Merida thought. I knew someone was going to die. I just never expected it to be me. But I cannot give up. I must not. Nobody will protect the ghosts otherwise. I can't try to be peaceful anymore. Not unless I want them to keep massacring the innocent.

Someone's going to die today, and it's going to have to be my sister. The thought, horrible and wrong as it was, gave her the will to move. 

Merida was not a trained fighter, or a magician. She had never seen the point in learning magic, unless it was to help or to heal. But she did learn to enhance her speed and endurance. She was long and lanky, and being able to run from the graveyard to the school in five minutes seemed like an excellent idea. She was glad she learnt to do so, because it was the only thing that could save her.

She slammed into Miranda, tackling her legs even as her shoulder screamed in agony. The gun went off as Miranda went down, and a second source of pain shot up her leg, and she clung on to her consciousness. She had to finish it. The world seemed to become smaller, encompassing only the two sisters and their struggle. 

Miranda slapped her, sharp nails raking across her face as Merida slapped the gun out of her other hand. They fought bitterly, like all siblings did. The only difference was that it was life and death, rather than a squabble over the last slice of cake. The gun skidded out of range, leaving the two of them to fight it out with their fists and teeth.

Merida thrashed like a fish in a net, ignoring the throbbing wounds that tried to claim her attention. I have to finish this, she told herself. I must finish this. She tried to drag herself to the gun with her uninjured arm, clawing desperately. Just before she could reach it, the gun floated out of her range.

"Hello there, Merida," Hans said with his typical cheer. "Need some help?"

Merida gritted her teeth. She did not know if she was glad to see him, irritated, or too pained too care. She suspected it was the latter. "Pass me the damn gun. And hurry up about it!" 

Behind her, Miranda was stumbling to her feet, clutching a broken wrist. She looked like a reanimated corpse from a zombie movie, complete with gratituous gore. Unfortunately, most of it was Merida's. 

"Are you sure? I mean… She is your sister," he said skeptically. All the same, he tossed the gun to her.

Merida's mind flashed back to what Miranda had told her. _Not anymore, huh?_ She raised the gun, cocked it.

Miranda had just enough time for her mind to register that she was about to get shot. She raised her hands, a futile gesture. The bullet went straight past them, penetrating the spot between her eyes. 

The world seemed to slow. Blood blossomed out of the wound, the flower of Death opening for the briefest of moments. Miranda's eyes were wide with horror, caught in that moment for eternity. Her mouth was open slightly. She looked the very picture of shock.

Merida wanted to feel sorry for her, like she had for the dead ghosts, but she could not. All she could think about was how the exorcist got what she deserved. Or, as Ina had put it, karma had come to bite her in the ass. _Those ghosts had the same expression when they died too. That or relief that their torment was finally over. _

Then time resumed on its normal course, and Miranda fell backwards, dead as the ghosts she had failed to kill. Maybe she would become one. That would be truly ironic. 

Merida turned back to Hans. "I guess you only owe me two favors now," she said calmly.

"I guess so," he replied, sounding unnerved. It took a lot to disturb a spirit. They were notorious for having no empathy. If Merida had been in any proper state of mind, she would have been horrified. But she was not. So she did not care.

She stumbled to her feet, numbly ignoring the pain that racked her leg as she put her weight on it, and hobbled over to the cage. The girl was still floating in the middle of it.

She fiddled with the latch, which needed no key, and released her. Merida's vision was slowly going black from the blood loss. And the trauma of watching her own sister die (albeit indirectly) at her hands, though she would never admit it.

The last thing she remembered doing was kneeling over her not-sister dumbly.

[dual-cetacean]

Choas Energie vs Prism Energy.

Heyo! I've been in a funk for some time and feeling stilted. So why not do something different and just air out some ideas and thoughts I have about Sonic Prime? I've always wanted to do a deep dive or write some fun headcanons but never found the courage to do it. After agonising about it for some time, I realised that this is Tumbr, and I have nothing to lose by posting my thoughts here.

One, I fucking love the idea of Choas Energy being the reason why Shadow cannot enter the gates except for Ghost Hill. Ghost Hill still has traces of Sonic and Shadow's old world, a graveyard with roaming phantoms spouting the same rhetoric over and over again. With nowhere to escape the grey haze, it is not surprising Shadow preferred the Void over the hollow husk of Green Hill. (And well, to make sure he was able to catch Sonic and drag him down from his adventure to face the music of his actions)

Throughout the series Choas has been something revered, ancient and mysterious. The mugful of the Sonic Universe gathers the seven mystical elements and defeats the bad guy of the game kind of shenanigans. The very idea that it works against one of the most powerful wielders of said energy is pure irony. Especially since the one who goes Super is allowed to go through these worlds.

Beyond this point, there will be spoilers for the last season of the show; please do not continue if you still have to finish it.

Sonic was the last part of Paradox Prism; of course, as long as he ran fast enough, he could break the boundaries of the world. The Prism energy negated the Choas Energy. But not without a price. Without Nine's tech, Sonic was unstable (Sonic's subtle need for Tails shines through, which is only natural as that is his little buddy! I am so glad the series emphasised Sonic's unwavering trust in Tails, which transfers to Nine. Like his best friend becoming his worst enemy is such good grub. I was fed by the tail end of the series. Pun intended)

One contender is that because of the nature of the incident, Sonic cannot control his running. It is as if he is in a constant state of stop, go, stop, go because the energy inside him keeps reliving the same action over and over again—a loop, if you will.

Or, and this is more fantasy than fact, the Prism and Phaos energy inside of Sonic were clashing with each other and making it impossible to get anywhere without zipping all over the place. Perhaps if it had gone on for too long, Sonic's body would have taken a toll from the constant stress his body is in. I mean, we did not see Sonic eat or sleep in the show (which I suppose makes sense as the show barely had time to focus on such mundane things. Nine drank a juice box, though, which good for them), so I am only guessing that Nine's invention and his determination is what kept him upright. That and time distortion, which is canon! But a detail that is easily forgotten among the more exciting things.

But more about that later, finishing my thought about Choas Energy. the last bits of Choas left are Sonic, Shadow, and the Choas Emerald Shadow accidentally dropped in the Void (it appeared back in Shadow's hand in the final after Green Hill was restored, but I wonder what that means for the Shatterverse if everything has been set back to its 'original state'). It is only natural since the Paradox Prism used Mobuis as its template to create the other worlds (and so also Sonic's pals and Doctor Eggman, Big was also splintered, so that means close proximity to the Prism was not needed to become split. What a shame we did not see any other characters from the cast Cream and Cheese or the Choatix). It would use its own energy to replace the missing Choas Energy.

After all, the shards act like emeralds in the sense that they supply endless power. However, their capabilities lay in manipulating their surroundings rather than Choas, which amplifies the power inherent to the user. (Only the Choas Council used their shard like a battery, which is unsurprisingly uncreative of them) I am not a Sonic veteran, and I am probably wrong about this, but the Choas Emeralds do not seem to react to just about anyone. Maybe it is because we only saw it interact with the important characters of the show rather than the background characters, but Prism Energy seems to be more responsive than Choas. Maybe because the changes were made so recently? Or is it in the Prism's nature to be so easily manipulated? Neither do the shards of the crystal have a master emerald to soothe them or act like an anchor. It is all quite interesting. There are so many holes in the Shatterverse. Without Sonic interfering, I am sure the whole Shattverse would have collapsed in on itself, as its nature is to be unstable. None of the characters are balanced because they are born from splinters. They become their own people eventually, but it is in their nature to be unsatisfied and seek what makes them whole.

The last fun headcanon I have is that Choas is corrosive to the worlds the Prism created. For example, when Shadow performs a chaos blast, it is a big explosion because that is the nature of a blast. What if, if he were to use it, the explosion is intensified and corodoes everything it touches? I am uncertain in which canon Shadow uses chaos abilities without the emerald (or maybe that is something Fanon came up with. ), but it could be a reason why Shadow did not use Choas Blast or Spear during the events of the show. Besides, well, there had to be an even playfield to make the story engaging. So, Shattverse gates repel Shadow because he is a walking toxic vile. With only one leak, his life force can eat up the fabric from which the worlds are created. It certainly is a fun idea to write with.

Kinda makes me wonder what would have happened if Shadow brought the Choas Emerald inside one of the worlds or Choas Controlled within its bounds. Hmm, that is a delicious idea to write for.

As for time, I have not exactly calculated how much time Sonic actually spent in the show trying to restore his world. I can't even remember if he was ever knocked unconscious, which could distort his sense of time further. But in Season One, when Sonic meets back up with them, Nine mentions that he's been gone for a while. For what was at most an hour or four for Sonic could have been days or even weeks for Nine and the rest of New Yoke. I seriously need to rewatch the show for the details, but time distortion is a big thing I've been playing with in my writing. The idea of time flowing differently in every world is fascinating to explore. And *rubbing hands together* good angst fuel.

Anywho, I`m glad I got that off my chest. Please tell me if you want to hear more of my ramblings or ideas! That's how I know people want to see more of it. Bye! ヾ(*^▽^*)

[hassedah]

The Moonlight Lovers characters in Pokémon :

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

Here's a headcanon that I was asked for but I've lost the request. I haven't played Pokémon for years. The last pokémon I played was pokémon Moon. But I hope you enjoy it.

Take care of yourself and have a nice day! ^^

Vladimir :

If Vladimir were a trainer Pokémon, he wouldn't really leave his house. It looks dangerous outside, and he could be attacked by a pokémon. He would stay safe in his little manor, away from the city with his roommates whom he liked to keep him company. Why go out anyway? Beliath and Ethan fetch him whatever he needs in town, Raphael and Ivan keep him company and Aaron is never far away. Plus, he's got his pokémons with him. He's never alone. In fact, his pokémons functioned as emotional support animals as a result, he rarely leaves them and he is even less likely to leave the manor without them.

Vladimir mainly owns grass-type pokémons, which help him look after his garden. He's owned most of his pokémons since they were little.

He's not a great pokémon collector, in fact, his pokédex is almost empty and apart from the six that live with him and those of his flatmates, he doesn't know many… His pokémons have the widest variety of characters. He's never really worried about that, and after all, he's accepted Ethan into his manor, even though he's got a horrible temper…

Leavanny (Bug/Grass): This was the first pokémon he ever had, when it was just a tiny Sewaddle. He always goes out with Leavanny if he has to go into town on his own. She's his favourite, both because he finds her very pretty and because she defends him so well.

Lilligant (Grass): He finds her adorable, of course, all her pokémons are adorable (much more so than Aaron's, in any case) but Liligant is really beautiful, he looks after her a lot and it's quite common to see her with Vladimir in the garden.

Leafeon (Grass): One day Aaron brought back a whole litter of little Eevees, their parents nowhere to be found, so Aaron gave them all one. Of course, Vladimir's evolved into a Leafeon. Hanging out so often in the garden with Vladimir, it couldn't have been any other way. It's the only pokémon that's allowed to sleep with Vladimir. It sticks to Vladimir's back while he sleeps and Vladimir has far fewer nightmares thanks to its presence.

Ribombee (Bug/Fairy): He got this pokémon when it was just a tiny Cutiefly. At the time, the pokémon hid under his hair at the slightest sign of danger. It's still doing it now that he's evolved, but because he's taller, he messes up Vladimir's hair a lot and isn't so well hidden any more. It doesn't matter, Vladimir still adores him just as much and gives him everything.

Florges (Fairy): He discovered Florges when she was just a tiny Flabébé among the flowers in his garden. Naturally, Vladimir took an instant liking to her. Now that she's a beautiful Florges, he's very happy to have her help look after and protect his garden.

Yamask (Ghost): Yamask isn't normally one of the pokémon he would catch, but the sad look on this pokémon's face made him very sad, especially as it was wandering alone in a graveyard. So he caught it and now it lives in the manor house and scares off unwanted visitors. Vladimir takes very good care of him and makes sure that he is never alone and sad again.

Béliath :

If Beliath were a Pokémon trainer, he'd always be in town. He probably wouldn't have the ambition to become the best Pokémon trainer, but he'd often be hanging around big cities, meeting other trainers and showing off his pretty pokémon. Mind you, he wouldn't come to do battle, no, he's just there so that you'll recognise that his pokémon are the most beautiful. Fights are fun for five minutes, but then you get sweaty, the pokémon are injured and their hair is all dishevelled, and you have to go home to give them a bath - he can't do that all the time.

He's particularly fond of pretty pokémon who take care with their appearance and with whom he could parade around town without the slightest problem. The other members of the manor find this a little exaggerated, perhaps he could favour power over beauty from time to time? But, no. That's not one of Beliath's ambitions.

He doesn't have a great knowledge of the pokédex, he knows the pokémons he finds beautiful, as well as those of his friends, but the others he doesn't study and Like Vladimir, his pokémons don't have any particular character traits, so he doesn't pay much attention to that. However, all his pokémons are spoilt rotten. After all, what could be too expensive or too rare for such magnificent creatures?

Cinccino (Normal): This was the first pokémon he ever had, a gift from his sister. He spends most of his time with it, and if he had to go out with just one pokémon, it would be her. Cinccino follows him everywhere and he hasn't been separated from her once since he was a child.

Lopunny (Normal): He caught Lopunny when he was just a Buneary hiding in Vladimir's garden. He couldn't resist her adorable little face. Buneary eventually developed into a Lopunny thanks to all the care he received.

Milotic (Water): He caught him when he was just a Feebas. He had to work hard to get a magnificent Milotic, but he's very proud of him. He shows it off to everyone he meets in town.

Sylveon (Fairy): It was no surprise to anyone at the manor when his little Eevee became a pretty Sylveon. At the time, it was all he could talk about, so much so that the others almost thought they were going crazy listening to him boasting about his pokémon.

Brionne (Water): He caught Brionne when she was just a young Popplio. He loves watching her dance and sing, and her antics amuse Vladimir and Raphaël. He's only too happy to have a pokémon who can put a smile on his friends' faces.

Spritzee (Fairy): Of course he had to catch Spritzee, she gives off a wonderful scent and isn't she downright cute when she moves around? She's the latest addition to his pokémon team, he adores her and often trains her in the hope that she'll soon evolve into a wonderful Aromatisse.

Ivan :

If Ivan were a Pokémon trainer, he'd be a young trainer who's just left home and… completely lost. He doesn't really know what he wants to do; becoming the best Pokémon trainer seems to be everyone's goal, but… is it his? He doesn't know if he wants to send his pokémon into battle, it sounds mean when you put it like that and he doesn't want to be mean to his pokémon… He likes his quiet life at the manor, of course, sometimes he'd like a bit more adventure, but to go on an adventure, you have to get away from the manor and… it doesn't seem like a good idea at the moment.

His pokémons are all still very young. He hasn't had them long and he's just learning how to train them with Aaron. He still has a lot of trouble understanding all the mechanics of combat, and everything he needs to know about types and specialities seems horribly complicated. He much prefers to play in the garden or the forest with his pokémons rather than trying to train them.

He has a pretty good knowledge of the pokédex, mainly because he listens a lot to the stories Aaron tells him about the adventures he had before coming to live in the manor with Vladimir.

Eevee (Normal): This is his first pokémon and the only one in the litter not to have evolved yet. Admittedly, Ivan isn't the most motivated when it comes to training. For him, Eevee is still just a little baby and he'd hate himself terribly if anything bad happened to him.

Jangmo-o (Dragon): This is another gift from Aaron. Ivan loves him, Vladimir and Raphaël a little less, because this little pokémon is very noisy. Ivan is trying to teach him to make his scales rattle in time with the music.

Igglybuff (Normal/Fairy): It's a gift from Raphaël this time. Ivan loves to hug him whenever he feels sad, and he's made it his mission to teach him to sing. Maybe his pokémon won't be the best in battle, but does it really matter? His Igglybuff only seems interested in singing and he can't see himself forcing it to do something it doesn't like.

Vulpix (Fire) (Shiny): This was the first pokémon he caught on his own and it's also a Shiny pokémon. He had no idea until he brought it back to the manor and his housemates told him.

Pichu (Electric): He's stopped counting the number of electric shocks he's taken because of this pokémon, but it's still one of his favourites. He takes it with him wherever he goes, usually letting it climb on his shoulders.

Tinkatink (Fairy/Steel): She's the latest addition to his team. He finds her adorable and can't help thinking that she looks like a little baby with her rattle. He spends a lot of time bringing her bits of scrap metal to make her happy.

Aaron :

If Aaron were a pokémon trainer, his aim would simply be to protect his manor and his friends. In fact, that's why he trains his pokémon. He never catches his pokémon with a pokéball, in fact he hates it. He finds the idea horribly cruel. There was a time when Aaron was the best trainer in the world, but he stopped everything to go and live a more peaceful life. Sometimes trainers still come to the manor to challenge him, he usually accepts, as long as he doesn't damage Vladimir's garden.

He adopted each of these pokémons when they were just tiny little pokémons. He can't help it, if his housemates didn't stop him, he'd collect every pokémon he could find and take them to the safety of the manor. In fact, it's partly because of him that there are so many young pokémon near the manor, they know they're safe near the human and his Machamp.

Aaron often goes out into the forest to train with his pokémons and to allow them to do a bit more damage than they're allowed to do in the manor. His pokémons are mainly Hardi, Brave and Assured except Riolu, Riolu is sassy, but he's the youngest so he has all the rights.

Machamp (Fighting) : He caught this pokémon when it was just a tiny Machop. It's the pokémon he trusts most, as he uses it to protect the manor when he's away.

Mightyena (Dark): He found Mightyena when she was just a tiny, injured Poochyena. He nursed her back to health and she has lived in the manor with him ever since.

Armarouge (Fire/Psy): If he can't go out on the town with Vladimir, Raphaël or Ivan, he always asks Armarouge to accompany them. He knows that his friends won't risk anything with him and he's very proud to have such a strong, loyal pokémon.

Flareon (Fire): One night when he was walking in the woods to train his pokémons, he came face to face with a litter of Eevee. The parents were nowhere to be found and the pups seemed to be starving and sicking, so he took them home and gave one to each of them. His became a magnificent Flareon, but of course Vladimir doesn't want to see this pokémon in his garden.

Lycanroc (Rock) (Midnight form): His pokémon literally terrifies Vladimir. This tends to provoke a lot of fighting between him and Vladimir's Leavanny. Living together isn't always easy, but Aaron knows how to convince his pokémon to stay calm.

Riolu (fighting) : He's still just a baby, because it's not been long since Aaron found him. Is he his favourite little one? He won't answer the question. Of course he doesn't have a favourite, not at all, Riri is just adorable… (He's totally spoilt rotten and is probably the most temperamental pokémon in the manor).

Raphaël :

If Raphaël were a pokémon trainer, he would probably live at the manor with Vladimir but would often go out into town to meet other trainers, fight them and have fun. He's not a great pokémon trainer, he likes fighting for fun, but he's not particularly interested in being the best. His pokémons function as emotional support animals for him, especially his Togekiss, which he can't keep his hands off.

His pokémon types are mainly Fairy and Psy. Even though he loves a good fight, he's very protective of his pokémon. Listen, if you hurt his pokémon, he's more than willing to challenge you to a duel, a real sword duel between trainers with no pokémon to help you. These pokémon aren't the only ones who know how to fight, after all.

He doesn't know why, but he only attracts pokémon that are Jolly, Naive, Pressed or Shy. Aaron told him it was because he always gave off a sweet scent, but he doesn't think there's any connection.

Togekiss (Fairy/Flying): This was his very first pokémon. He got it when he was just a little Togepi. Raphaël loves it and takes it everywhere with him. He couldn't live without him anyway, and gets very anxious when he's not with him.

Houndstone (Ghost): Of course, no one at the manor is exactly reassured to see Raphaël befriending a pokémon that can suck the life energy out of its trainer. But Raphaël seems so happy with his pokémon that no one dares force him to part with it. What's more, Houndstone takes great care of Raphaël and always protects him.

Indeedee female (Normal/Psychic): This pokémon never leaves Raphaël's side. She's always with him, no matter what, and it will be very difficult to defeat her and force her to move away from her trainer.

Espeon (Psychic): Ethan was certain that the Eevee Aaron gave Raphael would become an Espeon, and he was not mistaken. Most of the time, he walks right next to Raphaël with Houdstone to guide him around the city and prevent him from tripping and hurting himself.

Swirlix (Fairy): One day Raphaël simply came home with this pokémon. No one at the manor was surprised, he looks like candyfloss, he smells like candyfloss and like Raphaël he has a passion for sweets, the only problem is that spending on sweets has doubled since he arrived.

Mimikyu (Fairy/Ghost): This is the most recent pokémon in his team. He met him in an old abandoned manor house and couldn't bring himself to leave him there, sad and alone. So he took him home to look after him. It's lucky for Mimikyu because he couldn't have found a kinder trainer. Raphaël spends an inordinate amount of time telling him what a beautiful and adorable pokémon he is.

Ethan :

If Ethan were a pokémon trainer, he'd be a doctor in a pokémon center. No, he doesn't want to be here, yes, you're boring him with your irresponsible trainer problems. Of course he'll treat your pokémons, he has no choice now that you've brought them to him. He's not a pleasant doctor, in his defense, he meets irresponsible trainers every day who hurt the adorable pokémons they swear they adore. He's got a lot to be angry about.

His pokémon are sassy or naughty... there's really nothing he can do about it. he only catches pokémon like that and it's not even on purpose. Vladimir keeps telling him it's because they're so alike and… he'd almost take it the wrong way if it weren't a bit true.

He sleeps with his pokémons around him, even if he denies it. He feels much safer with them close to him when he's asleep, and with good reason, after all: who would dare attack a trainer sleeping in the middle of his faithful pokémons?

Reuniclus (Psychic): This was his first pokémon, a gift from his parents. At the time, his pokémon was just a little Solosis, but he was already taking it everywhere with him (he used to hide it in his schoolbag when he went to school). Today, his pokémon has evolved, but it still never leaves his side.

Alakazam (Psychic): This was the second pokémon he caught at the start, it was just a little Abra, but he evolved it and it became a powerful Alakazam.

Indeedee male (Psychic/Normal): He always goes to work with Indeedee, who is a very efficient pokémon and a great help when he has to look after pokémons. What's more, he can ask her to look after the other members of the manor for him, which always reassures him.

Phantump (Ghost/Grass): He really wishes he hadn't become attached to Phantump, but he feels so guilty that he couldn't part with him even if his life depended on it.

Glaceon (Ice) : He didn't want little Eevee at first, but Aaron dropped him in his arms without giving him a choice. Of course, he's taken care of her and yes, he likes her, he can't deny it Glaceon is adorable.

Cubchoo (Ice): Initially, this was an injured wild pokémon that had been taken to his pokémon centre. He hadn't planned to keep him, but he needed constant care, so he took him to the manor to be able to look after him more easily. He keeps saying he's going to free him one day, but… he's made a place for him in his room and Cubchoo even sleeps with him, so… that's not likely to happen one day.

Neil :

He's the best trainer. Look, he can't help it, it wasn't even his basic aim, but his opponents were all… lousy, horribly lousy. He keeps letting new trainers challenge him, but he always wins. It's almost boring for him, sometimes he'd like a real challenge.

He's got two legendary pokémons and all the others are chromatic pokémons. Does he intend to get all the pokémons in the pokédex in shiny version and all the legendary ones? Yes, of course, he's not here for fun. He needs to show the world that you should fear him.

He knows the pokédex by heart, as well as all the techniques and abilities of the pokémons. He's a veritable encyclopaedia on the subject. He doesn't seem very friendly though, even with his pokémons, but that's just an appearance he gives himself. When he's alone with them he's much more affectionate, after all if they're part of his team it's because he loves and respects them a little.

Zoroark (Dark): This was the first pokémon he got, a gift from his mother, it was just a little Zorua at the time. He lived alone with it for a long time and is therefore very close to his pokémon. It's the only one in his team that isn't a shiny or a legendary. He wouldn't part with it for the world.

Umbreon (Dark) (Chromatic): He adopted him when he was just a little Eevee. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't his adorable little face that won him over. His Eevee quickly evolved into an Umbreon, and like his Zoroark, he's attached to it. This pokémon always walks beside him with a gait as proud and arrogant as its trainer.

Tyrantrum (Dragon) (Shiny): The power this pokémon exudes makes it proud. Admittedly, it's a bit destructive and it's pretty hard to get around town with it, but people are quickly frightened by its appearance and that's all that matters.

Ceruledge (Fire/Ghost) (Chromatic): Not his most impressive pokémon, but as with Umbreon and Zoroark he's very attached to it.

Xerneas (Fairy) (Legendary): This is the first legendary pokémon he's managed to catch, and he's very proud of it, often going out on the town just to parade it around. Given its size, it tends to create chaos around him, but Neil doesn't really care.

Giratina (Ghost/Dragon) (Legendary): He had a lot of trouble finding and catching it. He loves his scary appearance - he loves arriving somewhere with his pokémon right behind him and seeing people's faces slowly become terrified.

Léandra :

She doesn't want to be the best trainer, she just wants to have fun. Fighting is of course fun and she never hesitates to accept it, but she would much rather party and go to parties than spend an entire evening fighting other people.

Like her little brother, Léandra is particularly fond of beauty in her pokémons, so she likes to be able to strut her stuff with them while winning battles. But she especially enjoys helping them win beauty contests.

She's not looking for a particular type of pokémon or character, but her pokémon can all learn the Charm move.

Gardevoir (Psychic/fairy): This was the first pokémon she ever got, a little Ralts at the time. In fact, she wasn't really trying to catch pokémons at the time, just the young pokémon followed her around a bit and she finally decided to keep it with her. She looked after him a lot and he's now a powerful Gardevoir, and what she enjoys most is being able to send him to check on her little brother discreetly.

Tsareena (Grass): This is the second pokémon she's had and the first she caught on her own. She never leaves her team. It started out as a tiny Bounsweet and maybe she caught it because she had the same adorable smile as her little brother. Little by little, she evolved into a beautiful Tsareena.

Gothitelle (Psychic): She thinks she's a perfect match for her little Tsareena. These two pokémons have such an arrogant look in their eyes. In fact, she got them at the same time. She loved watching them play together when she hadn't yet evolved them. Now she almost always travels with these two pokémons beside her.

Aromatisse (Fairy): She caught it after learning that it could give off a very bewitching scent.

Vaporeon (Water) (Shiny): She didn't really expect to fall for this little pokémon, but she realised she absolutely had to have one after seeing her brother's adorable Eevee. Hers has become a Vaporeon, so she might have preferred a Sylveon like her brother, but she consoles herself by saying that at least hers is a Shiny.

Diancie (Rock/Fairy): Diancie is the youngest of her group. She had a lot of trouble getting her, but after several years she finally succeeded. She takes very good care of it, and it has quickly become her favourite.

Farah :

If Farah was a pokémon trainer, her life wouldn't change much. She would roam the forest with a group of friends, living as close as possible to wild pokémon and studying them. Becoming the best trainer wouldn't be her goal at all, but she would have fun challenging the poor innocent trainers who had only planned to go for a walk in the forest.

She knows the pokédex by heart, and even the rarest pokémons hold no secrets for her. She could spend hours telling you all about them without getting tired. Like Aaron, she never uses a pokéball to catch her pokémons and keep them with her. She doesn't like this way of doing things at all, and the mere idea of locking one of these pokémons inside a pokéball makes her anxious.

Serperior (Grass): This was the very first pokémon she ever had, a gift from her big brother after they left home. At the time, it was just a little Snivy. It was her brother who taught her how to look after it and train it. Now that her brother is gone, it's the only memory she has of him, and she'll never part with Serperior.

Lycanroc (Rock) (midday form): This was the first pokémon she ever caught on her own. At the time, it was just a tiny Rockruff and she really couldn't resist its adorable little face. She trained him a lot so that he would become powerful and be able to protect her people, and he became a powerful Lycanroc, the pokémon she trusts most to protect her pack.

Thievul (Dark): She caught this pokémon after watching the food supply disappear for several days. At the time it was just a little Nickit, but she managed to catch it and it eventually stayed to live with its pack.

Houndoom (Dark/Fire): One of the pack members' pokémon had a whole litter of Houndour, so of course Farah took one for herself. As every member of the pack has done the same as her, their camp is always very well protected.

Jolteon (Electric): He arrived at the same time as his little Deerling, the two pokémons never leave each other's side and they seem to be very popular with the older pokémons in the pack.

Deerling (Normal/Grass): People always think it's a bit strange to see a tiny Deerling around a Lycanroc, a Houndoom and a Thievul, but it was her Lycanroc that guided her to this little pokémon. It was injured and her parents were nowhere near, so Farah had originally planned to nurse it back to health and then free it, but the little pokémon hasn't left her side since she nursed it back to health.

[third-arch]

Law Rambling-Melancholic Melodies

I don’t know why I’m talking about this. I just did. It’s incomplete, and steers of track and goes nowhere. But oh well.

I was listening to “day 30” by Matt Maltese, one of my favorite music artists.

I like imagine autumn leaves, myself dancing with my boyfriend.

The sunlight kissing our skin and peaking through our hair.

Ghosts under a gray sky,

The cold pavement,

Kanna and Law in a dreary park, walking over cobblestone hand in hand.

Things like that.

Anyways, I realized that “Maybe Law would like this song, too.”

I’d always liked imagining that he could play the piano. Maybe that was it.

But, something else,

Is it weird that I think Law would enjoy artists that are more melancholic than things like metal and punk rock?

Sure, growing up, I think it’d make sense.

And I think he’d love those artists.

But, he grew to be someone who didn’t like wishful thinking. He wanted to move on. Not forget, but not wallow, either.

His gentleness, his “in and out” and cautious behavior told me that he was someone who’d rather be in control of his emotions. Which is obvious.

He seems like someone who’d want things to make him happy, make him feel at peace, grounded, and familiar with his emotions.

Something healing, not stimulating.

It’s why I think he’d like Deemo, BTS, Radiohead, Phoebe Bridgers, The Beatles, things like that.

He’d want something that could make him think. Just relax, even.

Maybe it’s me doing the wishful thinking. I’ve always unintentially written him as being much softer than he should be.

Perhaps too soft at times, like these.

Maybe I think too much, like I always do. I always love too greatly. It’s frustrating sometimes.

Back to what I was saying, what about his aggression?

What about $uicideboy$? I’ve always said he’d like that too.

He’s a nerd.

And I think he did, and he probably does

A guilty pleasure that he and Kanna indulge in. Something they enjoyed deeply at some point or another before finding each-other’s company.

Even in my writing, he’s more reserved about it.

You have to recognize the shift he had from before, during and after Corazon

As someone online once wrote,

“In like a lion, out like a lamb”

Something that hasn’t changed is that I’d always liked to write Law as someone who needs warmth.

And perhaps, in these melancholic melodies, he finds that.

A strange, faded warmth.

A familiarity.

Something that doesn’t confuse him, or cause his emotions to stir, but rather feel comfort.

He was born to be a lover, made to be a fighter.

Ironic for the Surgeon of Death you’d think.

Or maybe not.

In Law’s words,

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I try to look past his appearance.

When I study him, I don’t study what he’s saying, I study how and why he’s saying it, and then what he’s saying.

His thought process, and all that.

And I guess, after spending time with him, just seeing him as someone who likes melodies with themes of love and sadness just seems right to me.

He’s surrounded by death and haunted by ghosts.

The quiescent graveyard of his heart wouldn’t call for anger, he already has enough of that.

Just solitude and longing, I suppose.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

From Hell - An EZ Reyes/Reader One Shot Story.

The spooky smut continues, besties! This time with demon EZ :D This one got away from me a little, too. Warning, it’s smutty as hell. Pun intended. 

Words - 3,058

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

The night is quiet, other than the chirping of cicadas and the crunching of the loose stones and gravel upon the quiet, country road beneath your feet, the light from the full moon overhead illuminating your path towards the crossroads ahead. Your purpose tonight begins with arriving there, and will end in you summoning a demon.  

You aren’t venturing there to sell your soul in exchange for what the demon can conjure for your gain. No. The purpose of your visit could be seen as a little more dangerous than that, an excursion definitely not for the faint of heart.  

The thrill you seek? To have sex with a demon. And there is one whom your fellow witch friends assure you can be summoned for that very purpose. Usually, demons have little interest in pleasures of the flesh, but some still crave it. They are few and far between, so the name of the intended must be spoken, once the container of ritual items has been buried for the correct one to come forth. You have a brief outline of what you’re looking for. Tall, well built, Latino and very, very sexy.  

Arriving in the middle of the crossroads, you pick up a small rock from the side of the road, using the sharpened end to dig out a small hole in the centre, taking the little box from your pocket, within it a picture of yourself, a black cat bone and a handful of graveyard dirt. Taking a breath as your heart somersaults, you pause from covering the hole, gulping hard, having a little slither of worry tug at your insides. Suddenly, doubt pools in your tummy.

What if you’re about to make a dreadful mistake?  

‘That demon, he made me feel things I didn’t think possible. He might be dark and soulless, but he lit me up like a bonfire.’ Those words, the statement of recommendation from your friend rings through your head, prompting you to take another deep breath, covering the box with the dirt, patting it level and throwing the stone behind you, before speaking his name.  

“Ezekiel.”  

Straightening up, you begin to slowly pace in a circle, eyes darting around, searching the depths of the shadows for the one whom you have called upon. One tour of the crossroads, and you’re still alone, your heart beginning to escalate with anxiety, until suddenly, a scent drifts under your nose. Sulphur.  

“You witches and your continual invoking of me. I’d be annoyed if I didn’t find it flattering.” You turn to face him, to the spot where he appeared... you’d like to say from nowhere, but you know where. From hell. Tall, well built, Latino and very, very sexy. There’s absolutely no mistaking him, though, had you not have been given a description. Demons are the only creatures with completely coal black eyes, as his are. “Well, at least you’re pretty.”  

He speaks with complete apathy, but he views you favourably, his eyes taking a tour of you a few times, the corner of his mouth hitching a smirk. You blink, and he’s right before you, your body twitching slightly, unnerved. “Nervous, huh?”  

“Well, you are something hell literally spat up,” you begin, lifting your chin. “But I think I’ll feel better when I start taking off your clothes.” You eye him in the same way as he did you, the way his biceps fight against the sleeves of his t shirt making your pulse quicken, those thick, veiny arms sinfully pleasing to your eyes.  

“Hmm.” He reaches for you, his fingers beneath your chin tilting your head a little further back, his breath almost burningly hot against your neck as his lips ghost your throat. “Then let’s go.” He looks down at you, a grin curling his lips into a wide smile, the full toothed display reminding you of a shark, Ezekiel clicking his fingers. Within a blink, you’re standing within your bedroom with him, the demon waving his hand, all the candles within lighting of their own accord. You raise a questioning eyebrow.  

He shrugs, his fingers pushing beneath the straps of your dress. “I’m all about the ambience. Besides, the flames remind me of home.” You tremble with anticipation as he lowers your dress, the fabric puddling at your ankles, his eyes wandering over you before he clutches your waist, pulling you to him roughly. The heat of him... it’s like he brought a little of the smouldering blazes of hell with him, the demon burying his mouth at your neck with a groan, his hands tearing your underwear off before your mouths meet in kisses of blazing, fervent need.  

You paw at his clothes with impatient greed, needing to feel that unnaturally hot skin against yours, stripping him as if you’re unwrapping a gift, wondering to yourself how on earth pure evil can feel this good. He lays you back on the bed, the greed now all his as his hands paw at you, squeezing your breasts, the heat of his body pressing against yours beyond scintillating, his flesh almost burning hot.  

You feel the heat growing between your thighs, a slow spread that winds gently, Ezekiel’s mouth closing over your nipple, a wet suck of pure magmatic heat. He is overwhelming, encompassing, the rigidity of his cock firm at your hip, his slight shift sending him to your apex, the ridged length of him dragging through your soaked folds in tease. He’s burning against you, breath stollen from your lungs as you pant, grinding yourself into him, little shocks of pleasure skittering up your spine as you both purl against one another, his mouth back on yours.  

Your tongues swirl, your teeth grazing his lip as you feel the head of his cock skating over your clit, a firm push sending it against your entrance, the demon growling, a beastly rumble that causes your cunt to puddle against him as he stretches you, chuckling eerily. “Oh no. You don’t get it yet.” He slips from within the grip of your arms, kissing between your breasts, tongue circling your navel, sprinkling kisses over your hip before he settles at your apex, thumbs spreading the petals of your cunt. “Mmhmm, I definitely want this in my mouth before I fuck it senseless.”  

The near boiling drag of his tongue through your folds hitches the breath in your throat, your back arching, Ezekiel’s onyx eyes fixing upon you in an unblinking stare as he laves at you thirstily, sucking, kissing your tender nub, tongue flicking over you, your nails trawling his scalp as he gives you the complete unbridled focus of his mouth.  

“Mmmm, you taste sweet, little human.” he growls, arms winding beneath your thighs, gripping them, wrenching them further apart with a sharp tug, treating your aqueous slit to long, firm licks, evoking quivers that shiver you from head to toe. He grants no clemency from the hypnotic beat of his tongue over your bud, tasting your hot, pink folds with swirls and flickers as you gush onto his lips, his short beard wet with your nectar as he sucks a mouthful of your cunt, your nails dragging over his shoulders as you feel the coil within you tightening.  

You throb against each lick, each carefully administered swirl of his hungry tongue, your hands gripping his thick shoulders, your hips keening against the utter glory of what his mouth conjures. He draws curses from you as you pant, your body spasming so hard as he begins to suck your bud that you’re unsure if your response is of pulling away or shunting closer, crying out as you’re eaten with ruinous gusto.  

He has you beginning to spark against each well-placed lick, his mouth making you tighten, your walls in full clench, only sated by the arrival of his fingers into your slick, raking firmly, a smile playing his lips as he watches you writhe.  

“That’s it, you sweet little thing. Come apart on my tongue.” The heat of his mouth has you literally melting for him, the demon panting against your dewy pink folds as he assails your clit with firm circles, driving out pleasure from the very root of you, skittering through you as your hips purl and flex, the waves of your release washing over you ceaselessly, leaving you a panting, shaking wreck.  

Pulling his head from between your legs, you fight for breath, Ezekiel leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses up your body until he reaches your mouth. “Mmmm, I think it’s your turn.”  

He looks at you thoughtfully, cocking his head slightly, a small frown creasing between his eyebrows before moving to straddle your chest, his hand sliding to the back of your head, tilting it up while grasping your hair in a tight fist. “Yes, it is.” He pushes himself between your lips, touching the back of your throat, watching your eyes bulge slightly as you try and accustom yourself to his size, the wide girth straining the confines of your mouth. “You’re gonna take it, every last inch in that pretty mouth, like the slutty, demon fucking little witch that you are.”  

You moan around him as he begins to fuck your throat, his grasp at your hair stinging your scalp, hips jerking forth, shunting as you tighten your lips eagerly, your eyes fixed on his, your hands wandering over his chiselled muscles as he shunts back and forth, his groans all smoke and salt at the filthy indulgence of forcing you to swallow his cock.  

A trail of saliva exits your mouth, your eyes blinking tears, the demon watching you with the most twisted of grins, his intense stare making your nerve endings bounce, as the danger of the moment, the fact you are at the mercy of an entity that could kill you within a blink, collides with the soaring arousal. He grits against the wet clutch of your mouth, speeding up, the sounds of his arousal filling the air, inhuman growls making your heart quicken with nerves, knowing that what holds you down and penetrates your mouth with violent vigour is truly more beast than man.  

He trembles, abs juddering, trails of sweat streaking his perfect skin before lets out a roar of inhuman proportions, the back of your throat flooded with his release, so hot, you feel it scorch as you swallow it greedily, watching as he pulls out, leaving you gasping, thumbing your lips. “Mmm, good girl.” Sliding down your body, he kneels between your legs, fingers stroking at the petals of your cunt before plunging within. “I suppose somewhat of a reward is due.”

He drags at your soft, wet warmth, circling, nudging spots that have tingles glimmering through you, your soft little cries filling the air, the muscles in his arm tensing, veins bulging, pounding into you savagely as he trawls you so thoroughly, you drip for him.

“Such a needy little pussy, honey,” he hums, feeling you flex around his fingers. “You dying for my cock yet?”

“Yeah, oh, fuck yes, I am,” you confess, watching him grin, loving that he has you completely at his mercy. And you know, since he’s a demon, he will show you absolutely none.  

“Mmm, yes you are. Fucking desperate little girl, needing to feel my cock fill her up and stretch her out. Tell me how desperate you are.”  

“You know already, you can feel it.” His hand suddenly moves to your throat, clutching hard, too hard, a wave of panic rippling through you, the demon staring down at you, black eyes boring into you like two dark beacons.  

When he speaks, his voice is guttural, inhuman, eerier than anything you’ve ever heard. “I said tell me, mortal.”  

You gulp, your tummy tremoring in fear. “I’m desperate for you, I need you like I’ve never needed another. Please, Ezekiel. I’m begging you. Fuck me.”  

The stony, baleful look melts away, a grin creeping across his face again, your nerves calming a little. You’d forgotten for a short while, that it was pure evil you’d willingly invited between your legs, but you cannot deny that the frightening reminder was somewhat exhilarating. His grip loosens a little, but you are still pinned beneath the press of his hand, the fingers inside you crooking as he begins to rake at your sweet spots again, leaning to suck your nipples in turn, watching you falling apart for him.  

“Hmmm, should I be good to you? It’d be being good to me, really, to feel this wet little hole drenching my cock.” He doesn’t wait on a reply, shifting to spear himself inside you, arrowing your soaking plush with a carnivorous grunt.  

You’re skewered on him, feeling boneless against his bulk as his mouth buries at your neck. The pressure and power of him within is like taking an entire hell storm inside you, his hips rutting eagerly as he reaches your summit, bottoming out and dragging back, your cunt hugging him greedily in desperation for him to do it again, fill you wantonly and make you whole.  

The noise he emits as repeats this action suddenly sounds more human than demon, an almost helpless moan, making you realise he is somewhat at the mercy of what sheathes him so snugly. Your womanhood has him entranced as he cuts through your slick with long, powerful thrusts, a slight rotation of his hips making you feel entire constellations explode through your groin.  

You hang onto him as he spears you so deep your stomach shudders, legs and arms clinging on around his bulk as he begins to quicken, his mouth back on yours as his fingers graze your scalp and comb through your hair.  

He lifts himself up, fingers trailing your cheek, his thumb forcing into your mouth, his chuckle deep, black eyes glittering in an unflinching, unbreakable stare.  

“What a good little demon fuck puppet she is. This sweet little human body takes me so well,” he praises you with, sharp snaps of his hips sending his cock into you deeper, pleasure tinged with a little pain, grinning sinisterly at your wails. “Awww, baby. Did that hurt?”

“A little,” you gasp, Ezekiel’s chuckles continuing.

“Mmmm, good. Can’t have you enjoy it too much, although I think you liked it, didn’t you? You liked my cock making you ache. Tell me you did.” You can’t to begin with, his thumb pulled from your mouth, replaced with his tongue, kissing you primally.  

“I did, I liked it,” you confirm. “You hurt so good, Ezekiel.”  

His eyebrow flutters, his grin spreading. “You might not by the time I’m done with you.”  

There it is again, a sharp tinge of fear slicing at your insides, a soft whimper escaping your mouth as you feel him hit you deep repeatedly, hooking his arms under your legs, levering them forward until your knees touch your shoulders, sending him deeper. Your slick walls pulse around him, and he falters, the need to let his darkness flow blocked by a greater desire to let the edges of his evil singe with the pleasure you evoke within him.

He takes your face in a tight clutch at your jaw, offering his mouth back to yours, exhaling with a lustful moan as he kisses you deeply. The feel of him rutting against you, dragging wetness from your cunt with every thrust, your dew bathing his cock entirely, your tense body finally relents, slackening and relaxing, moving fluidly against him as you pant, his mouth finding yours and stealing hot kisses from your lips.  

He is tight and heavy within you, imposing and unimaginable in size and prowess, the power and rhythm of his fuck making you dizzy and drunk on him, his big hands grasping your face as your tongues entwine, his teeth then grazing your lower lip.  A grumbled groan wells in his throat, hips jerking and sending him deeper, your walls clenching around him instinctively, a whimper fluttering over your lips as he drags sparks through you, pleasure taking root and coiling around the base of your spine like a vine about to ascend.  

You feel completely floored by the desire that pours from him, his tongue running up your cheek, inky eyes staring down at you intensely. “You are fucking gorgeous, little witch. You’d better summon me again in the future, or maybe, I could just drag you back to hell with me.”

That baleful statement is delivered with him beginning to pound into you with unhinged vigour and boundless determination, syrupy bliss stirred in your loins as well as shocks of pain, your hands running down his chest and delighting in the feel of every rise and fall of his chiselled, bulky muscles, drinking him in, savouring him while you have him there, relentless between your thighs. He is as scary as he is sexy, and you have never experienced anything quite like such contrast.    

His voracious dominance overwhelms you entirely, your body once again tensing around him as you chase your release, wanting to drag the same from him into you, your bodies colliding wildly as you pant and groan like animals in heat, everything frenzied and fervid, his dark lust the shadow that casts across your body entirely, your muscles tensing, sweat trailing over your skin, the heat of him makes you soar. He has you climbing to your peak, tumbling over with a series of soft cries, the thick intrusion of him sending lightning to strike home at the base of your spine, his thrusts staccato as he fills you with thick ribbons of cum.  

And when he does, he stares at you, his black eyes roaring with flames, his entire being shimmering with embers, the demon pulling from you and standing. “Until next time, mortal.” His body glitters, before sinking down through the floorboards, an eerie chorus of wails flooding the room, his descent back into hell welcomed by the song of those he shares it with.  

The only trace of him ever being there is the scorched mark his exit left upon the floor, while you catch your breath in the wake of his departure, unsure for a few moments if you could ever withstand another encounter. Could you feel his sin set you ablaze again?  

Ten days later, and you find yourself walking towards the desolate crossroads once more.  

[7ndipity]

"Play with Me"

Wil-o-whisp/ghost Jimin x reader

Summary: "Wil-o-whisp is spirit in celtic lore that appears as a blue or white light. Many legends tell of them leading unwary travelers astray. Others say that they are lost, wandering souls in search of resting places"

Warnings: paranormal/horror themes, angst, some swearing, hurt/injuries, character death, lmk if I missed anything

A/N: This turned out much sadder than I originally planned, Idk what happened. Sorry

Spooktober m.list

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It was late in the evening as you slowly made your way home, your jacket pulled tight around you against the cold wind that bit at you and sent leaves skittering in every direction across the pavement.

You paused as you passed the old cemetery, noting that a few more headstones had fallen over, whether from neglect or with the aid of vandals you weren't sure. Poor, lonely souls, you thought to yourself.

As you stood, a flicker of movement out the corner of your eye drew your attention. Weaving it's way through the headstones, was a small blue-ish light; you would've mistaken it for a firefly, were it not October. It danced about among the graves before moving off into the woods that enclosed the back third of the graveyard.

Against your own common sense, you followed after strange light through the trees, trailing back by a few yards as you tried to figure out just what it was you were looking at. Whatever it was, it appeared to be aware of your presence, seeming to linger and wait when you stumbled or fell too far behind.

After several minutes of walking, you were surprised to come across a large, dilapidated old house. It must have been quite beautiful in its prime, but now it had been left to the elements, ivy crawling up it's faded exterior, as if trying to hide it from prying eyes. What had once been neatly manicured gardens were now an overgrown jungle of hedges and rose bushes. How long had it sat abandoned in these woods, it's only visitors the wildlife that passed through?

As you gazed up at the house, you realized that the strange light was now nowhere to be seen. Frustrated, you considered turning back when you spotted the shining blue glow again, flitting past a window inside the house. Your mind made up for you, you cautiously approached the tall oak front door.

Trying the knob, you were surprised to find it unlocked and quietly let yourself in.

You found yourself in a large, elegant entryway; cobwebbed chandelier hanging in the center of the room, plush rugs covered the floors and muffled your steps as you crept forward. Off the left side, you could see into a large dining room, table and chairs still waiting. To the right, there was a spacious library with armchairs and sofas scattered about the room. The centerpiece though, was the ornately carved staircase that wound it's way to the second floor.

"Hey"

Your head jerked up at the sound from the library. Was someone else here? You could see no signs of disturbance or footprints in the dust other than your own.

You peaked into the library cautiously before entering, but there was no one to be seen.

You wandered about the room, examining various books and ornaments on the shelves. A large fireplace took up a sizeable part of one wall, an antique mirror hanging over it reflecting the space back at you like a bleak portrait. Moonlight streamed through the windows, casting shadows of the trees outside as eerie humanoid shapes on the wall, their limbs long and twisted, dipping and swaying as they danced with the wind.

"Play with me."

You jumped, that was very clearly a voice, you had no doubt this time, sounding much closer than before. You scanned about the room uneasily, trying to spot where someone might possibly be hiding.

"Hello?" You called uncertaintly.

"Shh!" A voice right by your ear hissed. You whirled around with a gasp just in time to see the light darting away down the hall, faint silvery laughter echoing after it.

Sized by a sudden determination much stonger than any fear you had held up until that moment, you quickly chased after it, wanting to know just what the hell that thing was.

Room after room, you searched, catching only glimpses of it before it would zip away down another hall or through another door.

As you rounded the stairs, your foot caught on the edge of a rug, causing you to topple into a china cabinet and fall against a door which swung open, nearly sending you down a flight of stairs.

Panic flooded you and choked a scream in you throat, only to be yanked back suddenly by a pair of unknown hands and tumbling to the floor.

Breathing heavily, you looked up to see who had been your unexpected savior, finding yourself face to face with a young man about your age. Tousled hair, dark eyes and delicate features, he looked almost as if he'd stepped out of a renaissance painting, right down to the flowy shirt. He also seemed nearly as startled as you were, eyeing you with alarm.

"Are you okay?" He asked, anxiously scanning you for injuries.

You nodded, dazed, but as his eyes landed on your hands, he frowned.

"You're hurt." He said with a sad pout.

"What?" You looked down, finding your hands littered with a surprising number of cuts and scratches.

"I'll get some bandages." He said, getting to his feet, making sure to frimly close the door you'd fallen against.

"Wh-who are you?" You asked shakily.

"Jimin." He said simply.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He gave a small grin. "But first, let's get you patched up, those look pretty bad."

They actually didn't hurt at all, but you accepted his offer anyway, letting him lead you into the library before he went to find some bandages.

"You seem to know your way around this place pretty well." You commented as he returned and sat down in front of you.

He chuckled. "It's my family's old house. I come here sometimes when I'm lonely or bored. What about you? Do you frequently practice breaking and entering?" He gave you a sly look.

"I didn't break in, the door was open." You retorted.

"That doesn't explain why you were here in the first place." He persisted.

"I...saw this light." You said finally.

"Me?" He offered. You shook you head.

"No, this was... I don't know, it looked... it was different." How could you explain what you had seen without sounding like you were crazy?

The logical part of your brain was starting to work again as you realized you should probably be more worried about your current situation. You were in a strange house in the middle of nowhere with some guy you knew nothing about. But Jimin seemed far from a threat as he gently tended to your wounds. You felt surprisingly calm watching his careful fingers as he wrapped a particularly bad gash on your wrist.

You were so lost in your thoughts, you almost missed him asking you a question until you noticed him looking at you questioningly.

"What?"

"Your name?" He tried again.

"Right! Sorry," Your felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you fumbled your words. "Y/n, my name's y/n."

Y/n." He repeated thoughtfully. Why did everything sound so much nicer when he said it. His voice made your name sound so light and pretty, like music.

"Well, y/n, I'm almost positive that what you saw was just me, but if you want, we can look around to be sure." He said, finishing up and offering you his hand. You took it.

"Ok."

He smiled brightly. "Alright then. Everyone, this way please, the tour is about to begin." He said, putting on his best tour guide voice and making you laugh.

You wandered through the old house with Jimin as he showed you around, telling you about the history of the house and sharing stories about his family's time there.

You tried to keep a lookout for any sign of the strange light you'd seen, but found nothing.

You found yourself not really minding anymore though, quite enjoying your time with Jimin. He had such a warm and friendly personality, inquiring about your life and interests, and his voice had such a soothing quality to it, you felt completely at ease around him.

"Where's that one lead?" You asked as you passed the door you'd knocked into earlier.

He looked up but glanced away quickly.

"That's the cellar." He took you hand abruptly, leading you away from the door in question. "We shouldn't go down there, it's dangerous." He explained briskly. "On to the kitchen!"

You eventually returned to the library, taking a seat on one of the sofas as you continued to chat about anything and everything.

You froze mid sentence as he walked past the mirror over the fireplace, noticing an anomaly in the reflection. The blue light was back, reflected in the glass, floating there in the middle of the room, but that wasn't what made you freeze.

The light was where Jimin's reflection should've been, but there was no Jimin, just the light.

"What's wrong?" He glanced back, stiffening at the reflection. "ah, that happens sometimes, especially with these old mirrors." He said dismissively, turning back to you as if it were completely normal. "It's kinda fun at first, but after a while, it just gets annoying."

Your starting to shake as cold realization washed over you.

"I told you it was just me." He reminded, watching you.

He had. He had told you how he hadn't lived in the house for a long time, he'd just refrained from mentioning that it was due to his dying, fearing it would bring down the mood of your evening together.

"I-I have to go." Your voice shook.

He frowned. "But we were having such a nice time?"

"I really need to go" You started towards the door, tripping over your own feet, but he moved to stop you.

"I don't think that's possible." He said.

"I wasn't asking permission." Pushing past him, you made it out the door and into the night. Glancing back over your shoulder, you could see him watching from window, his expression somber.

You wove quickly through the trees, trying to find your way back to the cemetery, but it was so dark you could hardly see a thing. As your pace grew more frantic, your shoe caught on a tree root and you were falling yet again.

You braced for the impact, but it never came.

You opened your eyes slowly, shocked to find yourself back in the house, laying in the middle of the entryway. As you sat up, you caught sight of Jimin sitting on the stairs, waiting for you.

"What the hell is going on?" You asked unsteadily.

"I was going to tell you, but I didn't want to upset you, not so soon." He spoke quietly.

"Tell me what?"

He nodded towards the door he'd avoided on your tour earlier, the cellar.

He stayed seated as you got to your feet and slowly crossed the hall and turned the knob, letting the door swing open with a creak.

It was silent for a moment as your eyes adjusted to the dark, followed by a strangled cry as you stared in wide-eyed horror.

At the bottom of the stairs was you, your body crumpled and broken from the fall.

You staggered backwards, your knees buckling as you slumped to the floor, reaching out for anything to steady you. Your hand found purchase on the soft material of Jimin's shirt as he rushed forward to catch you.

"I'm sorry." He whispered as you sobbed against his chest.

It had been an accident, he explained. When you had first followed him, it had just been for fun, a sort of game of hide & seek. But when you fell, he'd panicked and tried to grab you, somehow causing a separation between you and your body, sparing you the final moment of impact, but unable to save you entirely.

So, thats why you hadn't felt any pain from the cuts on your hands and arms, now lingering momentos of your last moments.

"I didn't mean for you to get hurt." He said quietly. "I just wanted you to stay for a bit."

He'd worried you would be angry with him, and maybe you should've been, but you weren't.

You sat in the library, watching the first hints of sunrise creep across the sky, exhaustion catching up with you and making your limbs heavy. It was strange that you could still feel tired when you were dead. As your eyes fell closed, you felt Jimin come over and sit down next to you, letting you lean on him.

"Will they find me?" You asked.

"Maybe." He said,

"Did they find you?" You asked.

He looked down. "No."

You nodded, a few silent tears slipping out.

"Don't worry, it won't be so bad." He tried to comfort you. "We can stay here and have fun together."

You nodded again, your thoughts going back to those forgotten graves you'd pittied the night before. You wondered if any of them were like this. Or had they faded away, like the names on their headstones.

At least, this way, you wouldn't be like them. You would never be forgotten. Jimin would remember you.

"At least we'll never be alone."

[captainkawaii666]

Okay, I have an incredible theory about Luigi's Mansion:

This guy

and this guy

are the same person.

(Theory under the cut cuz it's a long one)

So first, some background (which is basically a whole other, much bigger theory in and of itself). The portrait ghosts are distinct from almost every other ghost in not just Luigi's Mansion, but the whole expanded Mario universe, in that they're just straight-up ghosts of a sapient species (yeah, I know that Eeries and Ghost Guys are a thing, but they feel different). They're also all ghosts that E. Gadd collected, which brings up an interesting issue. He collected them from all over the world, and the mansion they all (un)live in appeared out of nowhere a few days before the game, and yet most of them have clear or implied connections to each other and the mansion seems to have a lot of their personal histories built into it.

Here's what I think is the solution to that issue. Vincent van Gore can paint ghosts into being, and all the portrait ghosts are, well, portraits. I believe that all of them are paintings of people who lived in the mansion at one point, including van Gore, who is a self-portrait (when all of the ghosts he summons in his fight are defeated, he says that only one of his creations remains, which lends some credence to this).

(Just because E. Gadd has a machine that turns ghosts into portraits doesn't mean they weren't already portraits at one point- it's possible he made the portrait machine by reverse-engineering their portraits or something)

"But wait," you say, "wasn't the mansion just created out of nowhere, like you said?". However, one of the portrait ghosts, Shivers the butler, gives a possible reason for the mansion to need to be created out of nowhere when it was already a place that existed: it simply burned down, which may even be how Shivers, and possibly a few other portrait ghosts, died.

So now we get into the actual "Vincent van Gore is Bogmire" part. I believe that, due to a few pieces of evidence, such as a painting of a living van Gore being front and center in the Parlor, van Gore is most likely the original owner of the mansion. This means that there's a good chance that his spirit would linger around the mansion- but the Vincent van Gore you encounter in-game is a self-portrait, not his actual ghost, as stated above.

Bogmire has some possible ties to van Gore, though. His grave is the biggest and oldest-looking in the graveyard, fitting for the original owner of the mansion, but more so than that is the fact that he's stated to be "a product of the mansion's fear and despair". How exactly would a product of the mansion's fear and despair have a grave? It never even would have been alive!

Essentially, I believe that Bogmire is Vincent van Gore's actual ghost, who absorbed the fear and despair created by all the misfortune that befell the future inhabitants of the mansion and evolved into the Bogmire we know and love over time. Meanwhile, the self-portrait van Gore painted portraits of all those inhabitants, imbuing pieces of their spirits in them as the original van Gore had with him and keeping them alive after death, in a sense.

So TL;DR: Vincent van Gore is a self-portrait of the real guy, Bogmire is the real guy's actual ghost after absorbing a bunch of bad vibes.

(Can you tell I'm hyperfixating on Luigi's Mansion just a bit rn)

[chenziee]

BIG NEWS

Here's first of the two fics I wrote for the amazing @zorofanzine!! Leftover sales open on May 10th so check it out! You don't want to miss out on all the top-notch Zoro content <3

[ Read on AO3 ]

----------

Big news! Big news!

The street killer and ronin named Zorojuro has disappeared! After he was apprehended and sentenced to seppuku, he has murdered the Flower Capital’s Magistrate and with him, every single policeman at the station at the time!

A most dangerous criminal! More dangerous than Kamazo the Manslayer! More wicked than Ushimitsu Kozo! And he has disappeared without a trace!

Everyone! Please be wary walking the streets—if you see him, do not engage and alert the authorities!

Watch out for a man with only one eye and three katanas at his waist! He is responsible for the deaths of more than thirty people!

You heard it here first, folks! 

Everyone!

Read all about Zorojuro’s crimes right here! Right on this broadsheet, read in detail about the destruction he had caused! The list of victims! His description!

Esteemed people of the Capital!

Come and get your own; you can’t miss this news! So hear! Zorojuro the Magistrate Killer has disappeared! Refer to the wanted signs—aaaaand! This flyer! You can grab yours right here!

—————

In the streets of the Flower Capital, a crowd has gathered. Listening eagerly to the news announcement, asking for the flyers and broadsheets and wanted posters. Talking all over each other, hoping for the newsboy to notice them and hand them the papers with information carefully written on them.

And among these people, stood a lonesome travelling monk with a tengai covering his head. A komuso was a rare sight in the capital but not rare enough to garner any attention—and that seemed to be exactly what the monk clad in a black and white yukata and brown haori with a flower pattern wanted. He stood amidst the crowd silently, a black nodachi with a white cross pattern resting against his shoulder, listening. His tattooed hand shook slightly as he clutched at the flyer with Zorojuro’s likeness on it.

His head turned slightly when the newsboy started shouting again.

—————

Aaaand! Another big news! Big news!

A ghost of a samurai has been appearing all across the Land of Wano! Flower Capital, Ringo, Kibi, Kuri, Udon, and Hakumai—all regions of the country report sightings of this mysterious spectre!

Is he a samurai who was murdered in a war hundreds of years ago? Or a victim of the vile Zorojuro? Is he in cahoots with the gashadokuro who’s been reported to haunt a remote graveyard in the snowy Ringo?

Only one thing is for sure; no one is safe!

We have asked the citizens who’ve met him and they all say the same thing: he is intimidating with a scary face, has green hair, and a scar across one of his eyes. He seems solid, like a real, living human… Except! This samurai’s ghost appears out of nowhere without warning and disappears the exact same way! There one moment, gone the next—only to appear at the other side of the country later the very same day!

We have also approached a few inhabitants of the Flower Capital for opinions and one of their answers stood out among the rest! This man, a toad oil vendor by the name of Usohachi, did not seem scared of the monster in the least! Instead, he had offered us a wild theory: maybe, the ghost is simply hopelessly lost! Wandering out of his grave in search of sake and losing his way so quickly and thoroughly that he is now doomed to wander the regions of our beautiful country with no means to return!

A daring theory that makes you almost pity this wile ghost!

But!

Where lies the truth? And where will this samurai appear next?!

Find the list of all his appearances right here! We have it all, including all the statements we’ve taken!

You don’t want to miss a word of it! So come and take your broadsheet and read all about it!

Now, who wants one?! We have enough to go around!

—————

The monk took a step forward, wordlessly taking one of the flyers before he slowly walked away from the crowds. He followed the main road for a while but then he stepped to the side, disappearing in the shadows of one of the countless narrow, dark alleys.

It was only a long while later, after taking several turns and finding himself in the most secluded place in the entire Flower Capital, that the monk finally stopped—and took off his tengai, revealing the face of a man who had no place in the isolated Land of Wano. A pirate from overseas, a member of the Worst Generation who was dreaded across the entire world.

And this very same man glared at the two flyers in his hands—at Zorojuro the Magistrate Killer and the ghost of the green-haired samurai—and his face twisted in anger. A vein pulsing on his forehead, Trafalgar Law gently leaned his nodachi against the wall next to him before he took a deep breath and gingerly, carefully placed the papers on top of each other, aligning them perfectly—

And ripped them both in half in one smooth movement.

He repeated the process again and again and again until the flyers were barely more than specks of dust.

“I’m going to kill this fucking idiot.”

[donfadrique]

Previous part

Part Three

9/🗡️

Let me remind you of one canonical moment before we finally meet Señor Zorro.

"There goes a man!" Gonzales cried, flourishing his arms. "He is my friend, that caballero, and I would have all men know it! He seldom wears a blade, and I doubt whether he can use one—but he is my friend! The flashing dark eyes of lovely señoritas do not disturb him, yet I swear he is a pattern of a man!

Music and the poets, eh? Ha! Has he not the right, if such is his pleasure? Is he not Don Diego Vega? Has he not blue blood and broad acres and great storehouses filled with goods? Is he not liberal? He may stand on his head or wear petticoats, if it please him—yet I swear he is a pattern of a man!"

© "The Curse of Capistrano" (1919) by Johnston McCulley, Chapter Two

Ladies and gentlemen, if the director intended to film McCulley's novel (and then it was a film adaptation we were talking about), then he needed an actor who would look both convincing in the role of a bandit and in the role of young man who would look beautiful in petticoats :) Good film adaptation, in my humble opinion, should convey spirit of the novel, even if a book plot is somewhat different from a movie one.

(I really want to make jokes about this photoshoot, but I won’t. Probably, the shoot replaced that remark about petticoats ;)

10/🗡️

For the first time, Zorro appears unexpectedly for viewers, and the first three scenes with him are short and without background (we are not told how Diego came up with the image of Zorro, where his lair is located, etc.). This can be explained by the lack of screen time, but, on the other hand, it emphasizes the "ghostly" nature of Zorro.

This Zorro comes upon you like a graveyard ghost and like a ghost he disappears.

First appearance. I would like to note the elegance of the rider and the successful choice of a black stallion. Of course, this is a matter of taste, but this Zorro looks daring and, more importantly, he looks more like a vengeful spirit than a man. It's midday, hot in a village-like pueblo, dusty soldiers—and suddenly, out of nowhere, a man in black appears, an elusive man in a mask.

Second appearance. This time, Zorro looks exactly like a bandit and acts like a bandit: his face is hidden by a scarf, he intimidates the Alcalde and his wife, robs them (even takes Inez’s necklace), after which, grinning, he rides away. It is unlikely that Diego could have acted really ignoblely, but, be that as it may, in this scene he doesn't spare the corrupt Alcalde and his depraved wife. El Zorro is dangerous, ironic, vicious.

Third appearance. Zorro (again in a mask) appears in the Alcalde's office to tell him that he must leave for Spain, and Don Alejandro Vega must take his previous position.

In addition to the beautiful candlesticks and nice embroidery on the Alcalde's suit (ha-ha), I'd like to note the excellent operator's work. The beginning of this scene is reminiscent of films of the suspense genre or even mystic horror movies: a candle is extinguished, a man in black appears from the shadows, and then disappears into them. (For the first time, I'm glad that I'm watching the original black and white version, and I am able to fully appreciate the creepy impression that Zorro produces when he wants to. Perhaps this kind of suspense was irrevocably gone along with the Golden Age of Hollywood...)

TBC

[wishbonewitch]

Lore's Ghost Experiences:

a thread 🧵 as in i'll keep adding as i experience more~

when i was around 14 or 15, i was at a church that use to be a funeral home, surrounded on all sides by graves. i didnt believe in god by that point and was only there to explore the graveyard and hang out with my friends who were christian. well, i was alone in the youth room while my friends were doing something else in another room. i had on noise canceling headphones on and loud ass music blasting. the room had three doors on three different walls, i had turned to face the wall without a door while humming to the music. i suddenly felt a presence behind me, you know that feeling when someone walks up behind you. i thought it was my friends so i started to take the headphones off and turned around. as i faced the door directly behind me, a tall black figure rushed at me and passed through me. i screamed and fell. it felt like it pushed me down. the headphones slid across the floor. i looked around in confusion and felt... idk. i felt like it took a piece of me. my friends ran in and helped me up and asked what happened. when i told them, the one whos dad was the pastor said that there were spirits here and theres a black shadow. it had only been seen in fleeting glances until now but everyone felt like it wasnt friendly. after that, a medium and seer friend i had told me out of nowhere that i had a shadow that wasnt mine following me and it was covering my aura. since then, ive been working to rid myself of this and get whatever it took from me back. i dont know what it is exactly or why it did that to me. i dont know the extent of the damage it has done to me either. but i know that i will never forget seeing it and the feeling of being passed through. it felt like my insides got covered with thick ink.

(any fellow witches feel free to please let me know what you think this being was. dont just say demon please, i dont believe in pure good or bad like that. and i dont believe in christian interpretations of demons and angels. thank you for your advice!)

i was again at the funeral home church. i saw one of the good ghosts clearly. i was waiting by the front door for a friend. next to that door is an office of my friends mom. i saw movement from my side vision and turned my head. CLEAR AS DAY, i saw legs covered by blue jeans and brown boots walk the rest of the way into the office, the body was already in the threshold. i thought it was my friends mom so i went to the door to ask where my friend was. noone was in there. i stood there looking like an idiot when my friends mom did appear behind me and asked whats up? she was wearing a dress with flats. i asked for my friend and she told me she was in the youth room. the mom went into her office and closed the door. chills!

my house is haunted. none of the spirits are malevolent, at least not anymore. one of them, a man, lives in my room, in my closet. he sometimes wakes me up if i oversleep. the most vivid way he has was, i woke up to my alarm but turned it and all my others off. about five minutes of light dozing later, i hear a very clear audible "hey!" right in my ear. my back was facing the closet. i jumped up and said "im up!" as though someone was in my room. i looked around and didnt feel fear or confusion. i just felt thankful. i got up for the day after that. i have visual hypopompic (while waking) hallucinations but i dont have audible ones. and i dont have hallucinations while fully awake, audible or visual.

im not sure what this was... i was in my room chilling when i felt my house shaking. my first thought was something is outside. cause my area doesnt get earthquakes at all. it was bright and sunny outside. i move my curtain and look out the window and see a FUCKING PLANE. close enough i can see the windows and lights and writing on the side!! it was close enough that it shouldve scraped my backyard tree!! it was going down too and the area is wouldve landed had a house and a HUGE forest! but when i went to check. nothing?? and noone else saw the plane! i still cannot explain wtf that was. there arent any plane crashes in my area either.. i know it wasnt a hallucination tho cause i heard the engines and it shook the whole house and my cats were hiding cause they got scared by the noise.

[threecardtrick]

« no, i don’t think life is quite that simple. »

“And yet, I have to try.” His resolve must not be shaken. Of all the miracles that he has seen, why not this one? Why not one more? “I will find a way to bring back my family, even if I have to scour every world. Even if I must go to the farthest reaches of the universe. Can you tell me that you would do any less for those you love?” It is simple: he knows that he will find a way. Whatever it takes.

[verxsyon]

·:*¨༺ ❝ 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐒, 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐒 ❞

@winwinverse​ love that i’m just sending all my fic ideas to you instead of writing for them on my own blog lmfao 🤡 N E WAYS. 

for my baby chongyun, imagine ghost hunting in a graveyard with him except no ghosts want to come near u guys because of his yin (is that what its called? i cant remember lol) powers and you guys find nothing.

or like buzzfeed unsolved where you go spirit hunting and stuff (and again cant find anything lol).

also maybe this can be the same or maybe a different AU but what if you dress up as a fake spirit and/or pretend to be the voice of one just to make him happy because you guys cant find any and you dont want him to be sad.

and since jae sent this pic, try and include some version of this image too lmfao pls and thanks ok love you byeee.

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. chongyun x gn!reader

✧ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭. drabble ; 0.8k

✧ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. established relationship au, modern au ; comedy, fluff

✧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. swearing

✧ 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. buzzfeed unsolved + chongyun’s hangout event

“Are you sure there are evil spirits here?” Switching the camera on, you slide the view over to your boyfriend, who is adjusting his own attached to his head.

“Wuwang Mansion is said to be teeming with huge scores of them,” Chongyun says. “Well, according to Xingqiu. Right, Xingqiu?”

The blue-haired boy shushes him by waving the flashlight at his face. “Guys, as you can see here I’m on ‘Do Not Disturb’. I just reached the fighting scene between the main character and the queen of the opposite kingdom. It’s very well written.”

“How convenient,” you say sarcastically. “Hey, Xingqiu. You said Wuwang Mansion is haunted, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Xingqiu says dimissively, which annoys the hell out of you. “Now shush, let me read in peace.”

Fed up with his imcompetency, you snatch the book out of his hands and smack his head with it. “The love interest appears during the battle. Turns out that they have been working under the queen all along, stabbing the main character in the back. Literally and figuratively. You’re welcome. Now give me the damn flashlight.”

Xingqiu gapes at you dramatically for ruining his genuine excitement. He is quite shocked to keep talking — not that he has anything nice to say, so he just lends you the flashlight. After receiving your thanks, he senses another presence brushing his shoulder, causing him to jump and hide behind Chongyun.

“Ghost!” he screams, gripping tightly onto his best friend who remains amazingly unfazed.

“Where?” you ask hastily. Snapping the flashlight to the area Xingqiu is pointing at, no ghost is nowhere to be found. Although, you do hear a thud nearby that results in you immediately joining Xingqiu into hiding behind Chongyun.

“Don’t worry. A chair just fell over,” your boyfriend deadpans. He grabs the flashlight from you over his shoulder and directs it the source of the noise. “There are definitely evil spirits here.”

“Huh. Surprised that you didn’t lose your shit unlike me and Xingqiu,” you chuckle nervously at thoughts of being murdered by an evil spirit tonight circulating your mind. “You got this, Yun. Uh… don’t die… please?”

Chongyun presses a quick peck on your cheek for reassurance, causing Xingqiu to fake gag. “All you have to worry about is to confirm the existence of the spirit in action. That’s the reason why we’re here, right?”

Before you could agree with his statement, a chill runs through your spine. You’re guessing the dynamic duo feel the same one as well judging from their stiff expressions. You turn to the direction they are looking at, and there it is: one of the evil spirits Xingqiu must have been talking about, and one of the evil spirits you and Chongyun are trying to capture on camera.

“God, I wish I was kidding,” Xingqiu wails. “We’re so fucked.”

“No, we’re not. Thank you so much for bringing us here, my good friend.” Chongyun is wearing a special smile that indicates his victory, one you have not seen in a while ever since you lost a game to him in Mahjong. “Eat my ass, spirits.”

Despite knowing your goal that made you and Chongyun come here in the first place, you’re not all about your boyfriend risking his life to that evil spirit he is trying to intimidate. So what you have done is throwing Xingqiu’s book at it, landing in between the eyes. “Not today, Satan.” 

The evil spirit squeals, curling into a ball on the floor from the pain it received from the book. “Ouch, that really hurts. What the hell was that?”

Chongyun gives himself a moment to identify the voice before taking off its head. Or rather, mask. “Hu Tao.”

“In the flesh,” the resident trickster of the Liyue District groans, rubbing the spot where she got hurt. “You got pranked...? Ow. Xingqiu, this was not part of the plan.”

Both you and Chongyun glare at your mutual friend, who is sweating nervously from being exposed by his partner-in-crime. “Haha... I’m sorry? Please don’t kill me.”

Your boyfriend sighs in disappointment. “So I guess there are no evil spirits here.”

“Therefore, the mansion isn’t really haunted to begin with,” you say, pecking his lips as a participatory award. “At least we had fun together, Yun.”

“Yay for happy endings,” Xingqiu cheers as he helps Hu Tao taking off her costume. “Well, it was fun while it lasted. Hu Tao tapping my shoulder certainly woke me up.”

“I didn’t touch you. Never did,” Hu Tao confesses. “I was the one who knocked down the chair that scared you and our other dear friend here shitless.” 

“Wait...” Chongyun says as he wraps an arm around your neck. “So if you weren’t the one who touched him, then who did?”

Then the realization dawns upon the four of you.

“Well, shit.”

[skyedestiny]

Quoth the Author: Our Next Book

Hello, everyone! I know I haven’t been here very much lately.  Well, in an effort to change that, I wanted to talk about a stream I’ve been running on Twitch lately, called Quoth The Author.  I run it on Sundays at 5 PM EST, and it’s sort of a book club.

For the longest time, I’ve wanted to get back to reading books, but it was always so hard to find the time and motivation.  In talking to some friends, I found out that we were in a very similar place in regards to that.  And if there are some of us like this there are actually bound to be a lot of us.

In Quoth the Author, I let the audience know about a book we’ll be starting in advance so that you can procure your own copy, if you’d like.  But it isn’t necessary as, during the stream, I will read a section of the story aloud.  From there, the goal is to discuss, together, about what we’ve read.

If this interests you, please stop in, using the link above! And if you’d like to catch up on the progress of our current book (The Midnight Library by Matt Haig), you can check out my youtube channel, where all previous episodes are posted.

But that’s not exactly what this post is about.  This post is about enlisting your help to pick the next book that we’ll cover! Below the cut, you’ll find the covers and blurbs of the five books we’re considering moving on to.  Please check them out and let me know in the replies (or the poll on facebook or twitter, depending on where you guys are coming from) which sounds the most intriguing to you.

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King:

“Nine-year-old Trisha McFarland strays from the path while she and her recently divorced mother and brother take a hike along a branch of the Appalachian Trail. Lost for days, wandering farther and farther astray, Trisha has only her portable radio for comfort. A huge fan of Tom Gordon, a Boston Red Sox relief pitcher, she listens to baseball games and fantasizes that her hero will save her. Nature isn't her only adversary, though - something dangerous may be tracking Trisha through the dark woods.”

Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones:

“Sophie has the great misfortune of being the eldest of three daughters, destined to fail miserably should she ever leave home to seek her fate. But when she unwittingly attracts the ire of the Witch of the Waste, Sophie finds herself under a horrid spell that transforms her into an old lady. Her only chance at breaking it lies in the ever-moving castle in the hills: the Wizard Howl's castle. To untangle the enchantment, Sophie must handle the heartless Howl, strike a bargain with a fire demon, and meet the Witch of the Waste head-on. Along the way, she discovers that there's far more to Howl—and herself—than first meets the eye.”

Lightning by Dean Koontz:

“A storm struck on the night Laura Shane was born, and there was a strangeness about the weather that people would remember for years. But even more mysterious was the blond-haired stranger who appeared out of nowhere – the man who saved Laura from a fatal delivery. Years later – another bolt of lightning – and the stranger returned, again to save Laura from tragedy. Was he the guardian angel he seemed? The devil in disguise? Or the master of a haunting destiny beyond time and space?”

Skyward by Brandon Sanderson:

“Defeated, crushed, and driven almost to extinction, the remnants of the human race are trapped on a planet that is constantly attacked by mysterious alien starfighters. Spensa, a teenage girl living among them, longs to be a pilot. When she discovers the wreckage of an ancient ship, she realizes this dream might be possible—assuming she can repair the ship, navigate flight school, and (perhaps most importantly) persuade the strange machine to help her. Because this ship, uniquely, appears to have a soul.”

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman:

“Nobody Owens, known to his friends as Bod, is a perfectly normal boy. Well, he would be perfectly normal if he didn't live in a graveyard, being raised and educated by ghosts, with a solitary guardian who belongs to neither the world of the living nor the world of the dead.

There are dangers and adventures for Bod in the graveyard: the strange and terrible menace of the Sleer; a gravestone entrance to a desert that leads to the city of ghouls; friendship with a witch, and so much more.

But it is in the land of the living that real danger lurks, for it is there that the man Jack lives and he has already killed Bod's family.”

Please make your selections, friends! I’m excited to be heading off on another literary journey with you!

[theonespoopyghost]

Episode 1 Part A - You Are Already Dead

You are dead, well before your time. You remember why, vaguely; an accident. You’d looked both ways before crossing the road, but a car screamed out of nowhere and mowed you down too fast to evade. Now you're sitting in the graveyard where you’ve been buried, staring at your own tombstone glumly. You were just a normal teenage girl, until this happened.

What is your name? [Kikuko Yukimura] The funeral’s over. You regained consciousness about halfway through the eulogy, standing up from the coffin to tell everyone you were fine. It didn’t take long to realize they couldn’t see or hear you, and you’d left your body behind. The service was an awkward affair after that; classmates who never gave you a second glance were suddenly singing your praises, while distant relatives struggled to find something relevant to say. When your parents took the stand it was a different matter; though the reality of the situation had yet to sink in properly, you still got teary-eyed at the idea of potentially never seeing them again. They were embarrassingly out-of-touch, to be sure, but always meant well. You’re going to miss them more than you expected. After that was the drive to the graveyard on the edge of town, and the burial. That was uncomfortable in a different sort of way, watching the coffin be lowered and dirt shoveled on top, knowing your body was in there. Were you supposed to stay in the coffin with it? That didn’t quite seem right, but staying up top, watching from the edge of the crowd struck you as wrong too. Either way, it’s done and over with now. Here you sit, alone, as the sun sets on the rows of tombstones. But just as it slips beneath the horizon, something happens. An eerie mist billows from the trees, and from a doorway you suspect wasn’t there a moment ago, a strange specter appears. “Are you the grim reaper?” you ask, somehow knowing you’ll be heard this time. “Not quite,” the stranger says, which you suppose makes sense given their lack of robes or a scythe. “Rather, I am here to give you a job offer.” “Why me? I’m dead.” On some level, you’re alarmed by how calm you are about all of this. The stranger’s eyes shift to the side. “You meet the necessary criteria, and being dead means you’d theoretically have less to hold you back from taking the offer. I wouldn’t do this under normal circumstances, but recruitment is at an all-time low. Living applicants have started turning the job down a lot more frequently in the past six or seven years; something about a ‘bunnycat?’ I’ve never even heard of such a thing before, and there’s nothing untoward about the job itself, but there’s this sudden strange level of suspicion involved that I just don’t understand. I’ve still got a couple of others for this region who have expressed interest, but any sort of additional help is more than welcome.” “I see.” You’re not sure you understand any more than they do, but nod regardless. “What is the job?” “Ah, sorry!” the stranger blushes, realizing their blunder. “It’s… how would you like to become a Magical Girl?” “A magical girl?” You cock your head, confused. “I consider just being a ghost pretty magical just on its own… also kind of spooky, really.” “A Magical Girl is a transforming warrior who protects humanity against the forces of darkness!” The stranger explains. “Unknown to the general population, you fight against all sorts of dark magical beings that seek to do harm.” “Oh, that kind of magical girl?” You remember watching some shows like that as a kid, but you haven't really given it much thought in years, and it's strange to think that it's actually real. Still... “I guess that would give me something to do…” Sure beats sitting around in a graveyard, moping all the time. “Fine, I’m in.” “If that works for you, yes.” The stranger just seems relieved you accepted at all. They produce a cushion with several different-colored rings sitting on top. “Now to select from these. Choose the one that you feel the most… connection with.” Holding your hand over them, you somehow sense an… attitude from each, for lack of a better word.

What kind of Magical Girl will you be? Red - Passionate Orange - Reliable Green - Clever Blue - Consistent [Purple - Esoteric] Pink - Purehearted