#ghost hunt short stories

[witchhuntress]

Fuyumi Ono Q&A (Part 1)

I fell asleep🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🤣🤣🤣Was so tired last night to edit/format this fsdfsdf There are a lot of questions asked so I estimate there will be 3-4 parts of this (as usual with the old scans I have, it 's rather hard to see some characters due to the state of the copy, so I will post by batches at a time besides posting other updates). I will post the fanarts in the future as well, but will have to see if I can get my old laptop to run ( it has become a slowpoke & troublesome throughout the years but hopefully I can retrieve my old files soon).

Shibuya Branch Office

I have finally cleared my workload and am ready to launch a *new series.

Truthfully, we should have launched it in March. Ho-ho.

However, we have not decided on the illustrator for the new series yet. Even if the manuscript is ready, it will not be published into a book, which is the main deal of all this, if we don’t fix that...

Q1: How do you decide who will illustrate the books?

The author usually makes the request first. After a discussion with people in the publishing house, they decide who they would like to work with and ask if they can work with them. The illustrators have their own circumstances, so it is actually very rare that the author’s request is granted easily.

…As that is the case, only god knows when the book will be released… Aha-ha-ha (powerless laugh)

Requests for illustrators are still possible right now ⭐️Write to this person! Come write a letter to “the editor in charge of Fuyumi Ono”⭐️

Q2: Will there be any new characters in the second part of the Evil Spirits series? (Also, will Madoka-san appear regularly?)

I am not sure if Madoka-san will regularly appear. She might not appear in Volume 1… I have a hunch… But… I wonder (this author is random).

A new character will appear. What kind of person they are is still a secret⭐️Let’s just take note that they will be Naru’s rival (laughs).

Q3: I have a question about “I Can’t Sleep Due to the Abundance of Evil Spirits”. Ubusuna-sensei cursed Naru with hitogata made through Enmi, and a passage says that “Kazuya Shibuya” was written on it. But I just realized that Naru is “Oliver Davis,” so “Kazuya Shibuya” should not be his real name. So why was the curse directed towards Naru? Is it possible to get cursed as long as the target is fixed, even though it is not their real name? This is one among many questions I have.

In such cases like curses, it is said to be more effective on an alias than a real name. That is why celebrities change their stage name according to **onomancy.

Q4: In “I Can’t Sleep Due to the Abundance of Evil Spirits,” various people like Silvio Meyer, Nina Kulagina, Edgar Cayce, and Jeane Dixon were mentioned, but do all of them exist in real life?

Each of them, ***except the Davis brothers, are real people. However, ****Taunus-san doesn’t exist in real life. A person named Taunus might exist though. ...I am really an idiot (;_;)

That’s right, I received many comments that the Fudō Myō-ō seal “may be wrong.” There are two theories on the documents I have on hand, and certainly, there is a strong possibility that they are indeed wrong in number (Ho-ho). Whether it’s a different view or an error in the documents themselves, it is currently being investigated, so please bear with it for a while (The documents are not to be read, but to be grappled with, aren’t they…?).

Q5: Is “Fuyumi Ono” your real name? One more question: What I’ll be asking might be unrelated, but you’re a woman, right?

“Fuyumi" is my real name. It has no meaning besides that I was born in winter. My sex is female. I have never had a DNA test done(^_^;)

Q6: What kind of clubs have you been a part of?

I have been in various clubs including track-and-field, theater, and brass band (I am a jack-of-all-trades…).

Q7: What is the length of the novels you write? For example, in “Sea of Wind, Shore of Labyrinth (1)”, how many hundreds of sheets of paper with 400 characters each are there?

Usually, it’s about 400 pages. I think "Sea of Wind~ (1)" is about 260 pages. Since the paper is thicker in WH, the book will be thicker than TH, even with the same number of pages.

Q8: Will you abandon a rejected manuscript? Naru and the others won’t save you even if something too good for a ghost shows up. Haha

I will not abandon it. I will use it when I get the chance.(^_^)

Q9: Will this newspaper continue even when the second part of the Evil Spirits series has been released? Will the short stories too?

It will continue. Rest assured.

🥰

NOTES:

*New series refers to Akumu no Sumu Ie at the time of this Q&A (around 1994?). This seems back when all the short stories have not been fully released as well.

**Onomancy is fortune-telling of a person’s name. The reasoning for why aliases prove more effective to be used in curses is probably due to the specificity that it is made or chosen. That is, one can have the same real name (same Chinese characters & character strokes for Japanese names, for example) as someone else, but those who have the same real names might have different nicknames, especially or uniquely referring to them. Onomancy helps in choosing lucky names, so that is probably why celebrities refer to it to make their stage names. 

***Ono-sensei is simply saying Naru and Gene are fictional characters (i.e., there are no Davis twins with psychic powers in real life), not that she didn’t base their surname and so on on a real person. In retrospect and at first glance, this seems to go against what I mentioned before—that Naru and Gene could be based on real people—but she did not refute that (confirmation by omission?😅😅😅the compound word she used that means “except” can mean “in addition to” or “besides” as well). She clearly meant the psychics the asker mentioned are real people. The similarities of Andrew Jackson Davis’s life and abilities with Naru and/or Gene’s are still there and hardly coincidental (A.J. Davis retired in Boston, which is where Naru and Gene were born. He was also a medium). Also, this connection between A.J. Davis and Edgar Cayce is interesting (and these two were popular psychics in their respective centuries, with A.J. Davis being born first). There’s also the bit about A.J. Davis having a “guiding spirit”—which if you think about it, parallels the situation with Gene being Mai’s guiding spirit and telling her info no one else could have accessed. I think it’s safe to say that there are obvious connections here and there.

****Not sure if I got the name Taunus correctly. It can be either Towners or Thaunus too. Some foreign names in Japanese syllabification have no ready equivalent, and authors might create their own Roman alphabet spelling of it.

Silvio Meyer was said to be a Swiss psychic who has PK (there are only a few mentions of him in a few articles, but not an encyclopedia online). It was said he could bend metals, but he was caught cheating (Ubusuna-sensei seems to be a parallel of him, isn’t she?).

Nina Kulagina was said to be a Russian psychic with PK as well, and was also caught cheating many times lol.

Edgar Cayce was dubbed as "The Sleeping Prophet" since he was said to be a clairvoyant. He founded a non-profit research organization.

Jeane Dixon was said to be an American psychic and astrologer who foretold the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

Sea of Wind, Shore of Labyrinth is one of the volumes of Ono's other series, The Twelve Kingdoms.

I believe TH means Teens Heart and WH means White Heart. In full names, they are Kodansha X Bunko Teens Heart and Kodansha X Bunko White Heart; they are Japanese publishing imprints. TH has now been dissolved.

For fun, I ran onomancy on Mai and Naru's names! I will post translations of the interpretations soon as well since they seem interesting! I will also run the rest of the SPR gang's names XD See you on the next part!

[nillabean]

I just think its hilarious how in the author's note of Akumu no Sumu Ie, Ono Fuyumi was like "can y'all calm down? yes, Twelve Kingdoms is ongoing. there will be more."

[katenewmanwrites]

A short break

and more posting.

I'm taking a short break from writing my main wip, a couple of days. To write some short little romance scenes and short stories. As I've been going pretty hard, with 28k words so far.

And I would like to be able to post more on tumblr but i'm still not sure if I want to publish my novel traditionally or not, thus I'm not sure how much I can publish without it being an issue if I do decide on traditional.

anyway, I thought I would share the start of my new Paranormal Sapphic romance that I'm going to be working on:

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧: ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧: :✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ✧

As Aisha and I step out of the car, the crisp autumn air fills my lungs. We stand in front of the towering iron gates that marks the entrance to Waverley House, my gaze drifts upwards to the looming manor. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the dilapidated fence and overgrown gardens that surround the estate. The silence is almost eerie, save for the distant howl of an owl in the distance.

Aisha clasps her hands nervously, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the house. "Are you sure we should be doing this, Paige? I mean, this could be really dangerous…" she trails off, her voice tinged with fear.

I smile reassuringly and place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Aisha. We'll be fine. Besides, I've done my research. It's not gonna fall on us." I take a deep breath and squash down the nervous flutter in my own stomach. "Now, let's just get inside and start our investigation."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧: :✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ✧

[crowvainn]

paranormal terrors

a short story assignment i did for school !

i also made poster art for this, you can see it here

1

July 12th, 2016. That was the day it all began. I remember seeing what I thought I saw a shadow figure, standing at the door to my room.. staring at me. I blinked and it was gone, I thought that I was perhaps hallucinating... but I wasn’t. Days, weeks, months, and now years. I’ve been experiencing paranormal stuff in my apartment, 3B, for about 3 years. No one believes me, except my best friend Enver. She lives next door to me, 3C, and I’m pretty sure she has had paranormal stuff happen in there too... but nowhere close to how bad I have it. But enough about the past, today is September 3rd, 2019, my birthday! I’m now 16... but I’m starting to feel weird about my body, like I don’t fit in it at all... my father has always called me his daughter. Though, I found out I feel more like a boy. Good thing I don’t live with my parents, they would flip out if I told them that. Anyways, I’m in bed, scrolling mindlessly on my phone, looking at videos. I couldn’t sleep, and it was close to midnight. Me and Enver had gone to our favorite spot, under the shade of the Birch tree at the park. It was a cool, autumn morning, and everything was going well. I recall talking about the paintings I had made the day before, as a vent piece, mostly, since I wasn’t feeling so good because I had my period, and that reminded me that I was originally a girl... I wish it would’ve never come again, but alas, it did. 

Then my phone started to ring. Why was Enver calling me at this ungodly hour? I hesitated, but decided to pick up.

  “Er... hi Enver, why are you calling me now?” I groaned.

“Haha, sorry River! I just got some ghost hunting devices, like a rem-pod, flashlights, cat balls, an EMF reader, all the good stuff. I was wondering if we could do an investigation in my room or yours? Unless you want to sleep, either is good!” She replied. 

“Alright... I guess we can do it in your room.”

 I was secretly excited about this. I love paranormal stuff, but I haven’t really had the chance to do ghost hunting, with my lack of materials. But still, I really hate that my room is haunted... I got off of my bed lazily, and put on my favorite sweater, and some sweatpants. I grabbed my keys and locked the door of my apartment once I’m out, and knocked on the door to Enver’s. She opened the door and ushered me in. I noticed the box of materials on the couch, my excitement rose a bit. I tried to keep it down, though.

Enver took out a rem-pod and placed it on a small table. I helped by placing a cat ball on her bed, and flashlights, both of which can be activated by a simple tap. I held an EMF reader, and Enver has her phone in her hands, on airplane mode so nothing would interfere, on that communicator app. Before we say anything, the app says “Savannah.” 

Enver gasped, “A name?! This quickly?” Then the rem-pod goes off, full grab. I shuddered. We are getting a lot of activity so far... 

“H-how many entities are in this room?” I nervously said. A flashlight turns on, and the app says “13 spirits.” The flashlight turns off. Then I jumped, freaking out because I could’ve sworn I heard a distorted voice, that almost sounded like... “River.” I tensed up.

“M-my name! I… why did it say my name..?” I croaked.

“I don’t know… River, just don’t let it get to you.” Enver replied.

“Okay…”

The rest of that night went by in a blur.. the two of us did experience some interesting things, like doing an EVP, in which we found out the names of some other spirits, like Darcy, Lucille, Zachary, and a few more. They all seemed to be mostly nice, but Savannah... that name feels familiar... I can’t put my finger on it, but I remember that name from somewhere..

I went into my apartment, and into my room, reminiscing about these events. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep with this information.. what if it's the same case with my room? I sat on my bed and took out a notepad, to focus on something else. I wrote stuff that I needed to prioritize doing, also so I wouldn't forget about it. “Top surgery... either buying my own ghost hunting materials or borrowing Enver’s... Pursuing my art career... Learning to play the drums...” I murmured, scribbling the words on the paper. Can I really achieve all of these…? No… probably not. I thought. I closed the notepad, and shoved it under my pillow. Then I laid in bed, tossing and turning. I couldn’t sleep. The investigation was still in my head. Who is Savannah… and why can’t I remember who she is…? I must’ve been thinking for a long time, because I later drifted into slumber.

Let me tell you this: I had a rather odd dream, odd because I never have dreams anyway, but this one was unnerving... I woke up, in the dream, as Enver. The outfit she wore was the same one she wore the day before, a white dress with the sleeves being white mesh with small stars on it, and black boots. The area around was just a black, misty void. I felt queasy as voices whispered in my ears. It was very incoherent what the voices were saying. It went like this for... a while. Then everything went black. I couldn’t see Enver anywhere. I remembered that I was then startled by a large eye opening in the midst of the void. The pupil was dead black and soulless. I heard an actually intelligible voice, which said:

“She’s gone.”

2

And then I woke up, sweating and shaking. Gone..?! What could that mean? Maybe I shouldn’t worry about that.. I mean... it’s only a dream... right? I checked the time. I woke up right at the crack of dawn... Great. I sat up in my bed, and grabbed my phone. Enver... she called me five times, at exactly midnight. Oh no.. I got up, slid on my crocs, and frantically ran out of my apartment, to check on Enver. I knocked on her door, before I realized that the door wasn’t locked, and it opened easily. I peered inside, only seeing pitch black, and.. the same mist from the dream. I shivered, the air had become more cold, probably more cold than I was able to handle. And then, I felt an invisible force push me into the void.

“River... River! Wake up!” I heard a voice say, shaking me awake. As I opened my eyes, I saw a translucent spirit with long, wavy hair standing before me. I jumped, startled. The ground, if that’s what it even was, rippled like water under me.

“Who are you?!” I yelped.

“Girl,” The spirit said. I tensed at the word. I. Am. Not. A. GIRL! “calm down! I’m Savannah. In addition to feeling very much uncomfortable, I felt surprised. It’s her! I… How am I able to see her?! Savannah then extended a hand, which I hesitated to grab. 

“No thanks…” I stammered. Standing up, I took in the fact that I was actually in that same void from the dream I had, merely minutes ago. Savannah waved her hand in front of my face, causing me to snap out of my daze.

“Sorry,” I said fidgeting with my hands, “but also… where’s Enver?!”

“Right. Those demonic entities took Enver much deeper into the void than where we are right now. I’ll have to fly you down to get there.” Savannah explained. Demonic entities?! Oh no.. what am I getting myself into?  “But... there is one thing I need from you. The demonic entities are more dangerous for a living human, and since we can’t risk getting you killed, I need to transfer some of my power to you. I just nodded again. I get to have some of this spirit's power? I… oh god.

“We need to start now. Don’t move, and let me take the lead.” Savannah stated. She seemed really familiar to me, now that I noticed how tall and formal she was.. she also seemed the same age as me, 16..

Savannah interlocked her hands with mine, so suddenly that I flinched. Her eyes started to glow a pearly white, and I’m pretty sure that my eyes did the same. Her forehead touched mine, and I guess the transfer had begun at that point. We stood like that for what felt like ages, before Savannah let go of me, making me stumble. The audacity of this spirit! Jeez…

“It’s done. Let’s go save Enver!” Savannah exclaimed. I felt a force plunge me into the water-like floor. I screamed, but nothing came out.

The ride was very nauseating... We sank down so quickly, and that paired with just how deep the location Enver was at... you would not want to experience it. A few moments later, Savannah landed gracefully, meanwhile I had barely landed on my feet. 

“Keep close to me,” Savannah whispered, “we don’t want those entities to notice us right away. When they see us, run to Enver, I’ll distract the others.”

“A-alright,” I replied, still shaking.

We walked cautiously, to not make any noise. I could see what I was sure to be the demonic entities, crowded around something... No, someone... Enver! The entities noticed me and Savannah. They hissed and shouted, “ATTACK!” Entities swarmed around Savannah, in which she signaled me to get Enver, and to not worry about her. I ran as fast as I could. I saw Enver, I grabbed her hand.

“W-we need to get out of here, now!” I urgently whispered. Enver’s face was wet with tears, she just nodded, and held my hand tightly.

“Er.. oh god.. SAVANNAH, NOW!” I shouted. Savannah had told me that when I got to Enver, I had to signal her to send me and Enver back to Earth.

Savannah nodded, while fending off an entity with her bare hands. She raised her hand, and me and Enver floated up. Enver held onto me tightly, as Savannah screamed in agony.

Everything then went black.

I woke up on the ground, in Enver’s room. Enver was on the ground beside me, and she groggily sat up. Wait a minute.. we’re back! I’m back with Enver! But.. what about..

“What… happened to Savannah…?”

“I… I think she’s gone.. like, fully gone...” Enver wearily replied. At that moment, I realized who Savannah was.. I remember her. We were close friends, along with Enver and a few others. Savannah had died in a car crash about.. 5 years ago, when we were 11. I can’t believe that I forgot about her.. how could I? I felt a lump in my throat. Even though she was a bit rude… I was sad she was gone… forever. Enver hugged me, telling me to stay strong. And I did… well, at least I tried to.

3

I managed to heal from the… incident that  happened those 3 years. That day… September 4th, 2019. The day after my birthday. I still couldn’t forget about that fateful day. It made me believe in the paranormal even more than before. But it’s now January 19th, 2021… I couldn’t believe that it has been 2 years since it happened.

I looked outside. It was 4:37 pm, a somewhat windy afternoon, after it had rained, which was my favorite weather! I pulled on my binder, a grey sweater, green cargo pants, and my black combat boots. I quickly combed my hair a bit, which I had cut to chin-length after it grew out, and grabbed my backpack. I was going to hang out with Enver at the Birch tree, since today was January 14th… Savannah’s birthday. I stuffed my sketchbook, pencil, and pen in the bag, and picked up the bouquet of white flowers that I had bought previously. Running out of our dorm room, and locking it, I saw Enver, who was waiting for me.

“Took you long enough,” Enver chuckled, “let’s go!” Enver then grabbed my hand, and dragged me down the stairs.

Eventually, the two of us got to the Birch tree. I sat down, leaning against the tree, and pulled out my sketchbook, pencil, and pen. I started to draw Savannah. I remembered her short, two toned hair perfectly, and her favorite hoodie, so she was quite easy to draw. After some last touches, and outlining the art in pen, I was done with the portrait! I showed Enver, and she loved it, and we ate some ramen that we got from the nearby supermarket.

“Enver, should we stop by the cemetery? I mean, the sun is setting now..” I asked. Enver nodded, and I zipped up my bag, and grabbed the sketchbook and flowers. We walked to the cemetery, and we looked for Savannah’s grave.

“I found it!” Enver exclaimed, and I ran to where she was. The name on the grave said “Savannah Arren O’Carie” That’s definitely her grave.. I smiled sadly, and set down the flowers on the grave. I tore the drawing of Savannah out of my sketchbook, and also placed it on the grave. Enver set down her own bouquet of flowers, as well as a note we both made, and we both stood back up. Enver hugged me, and I hugged her back, as the wind blew lightly through our hair.

The note said, 

Wherever you are, Savannah, just know that we will always remember you, and that we miss you. Thank you for everything.

Love, Enver and River.

[gotghost]

Missing

A young girl goes missing in a nearby forest. The whole town is searching for her. Her parents find her sitting and smiling in a cave. Her eyes are completely white

[gwen-tolios]

Etched in Brass

The shop bells chimed and Jackson looked up from the counter where he’d been polishing machine parts. The woman wore simple pieces that were neat and clean, but a few seasons old. He frowned as he watched her look at the instruments in the window and display cases on the walls. If she could afford any of them, Jackson would eat a boot.

“Hello, sir.”

Jackson placed down the gear and straightened. He rarely got called sir, he was just a shop assistant as his uncle loved to remind him, but he fully planned on taking control of the perceived status of being an experienced occultist.

“Morning, ma’am. How can I assist you?”

“I heard you sell devices that can protect a person or place?”

“Indeed we do.”

She clasped her hands together. Her gloves lacked lace. Still, if Uncle Jonathan knew he didn’t give a customer proper respect, he’d be yelled at.

“What type of protection do you need?”

“I’m cursed and would like it removed.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Can I have more detail?”

“I’m a private vocal instructor, and teach several young ladies in town. However, many of them are getting sick and I believe me, or rather my curse, is the reason why.”

“Ma’am, there are many reasons why someone may get sick-"

“Every single one of my pupils? Ten young ladies across the city?  Whose ailment tends to rapidly decrease in my company?”

Jackson sighed. This was the problem of your family having an occult shop – everyone believed the supernatural was the reason for their troubles. But his uncle had built a reputation – every problem heard. For his uncle to truly teach Jackson how to be an occultist, not just run the shop, he had to uphold the same standards.

Listen. Offer a solution.

Maybe, make a sale. With no guarantee it would work. They couldn’t know the rules every spirit operated by after all!

“I’ll call for tea,” Jackson said, gesturing to a small table in the corner. It’d allow him to watch for other patrons while listening to the tutor's troubles but provided a more proper location to have a conversation than a counter filled with grease, dirty rags, and cuts of metal.

#####

The music tutor was Ms. Emily Farthington, and the more she spoke the more Jackson realized she might truly be cursed. Every young lady she taught developed the same symptoms, and the illness hadn’t spread to the household. More damning, further exposure to Ms. Farthington seemed to increase it's severity.

First, it was a sore throat, which made an appearance halfway through the lesson. The girl would be recovered by the next lesson, only for the singer’s hoarseness to reappear during vocal warmups. The ailment had started to linger for the days between lessons, leading to difficulty breathing, coughs. One student had collapsed as Ms. Farthington knocked on the door to announce her presence.

“One family fired me,” Ms. Farthington said, staring at her empty tea mug. “They feared something about me was making their daughter sick. My perfume, perhaps. Another family informed me that the girl went from struggling to breathe to riding within a week. They then told me that by releasing me from their services, they hoped their daughter could make similar progress."

She stared up at Jackson, tears in her lashes. "I lost my seventh client this morning. If I’m to retain my lodgings, I can’t lose my other three.”

“You feel no illness yourself?” Jackson asked. He racked his mind for which of his uncle's devices might help, but most were preventative. They established wards before a possession or haunting happened.

“None.”

“What about in the past?”

“Oh, I’ve had my share of bad days.”

“Anything like what your students have experienced?”

“I,” she reached for her neck.

“Ms. Farthington?”

“When I was younger, my sister and I came down with a similar illness. The difficulty speaking, then the coughs, having a hard time getting air. The doctor said something had gotten into our lungs. We were sick for over a month, and she succumbed to it.” As she spoke, she rubbed her hand over a spot on her chest.

Jackson watched the movement. It was too close to her neck to be in remembered pain. A charm, thin enough to not cause a bulge? “What are you worrying with?”

Ms. Farthington startled, blushing as she realized what she was doing. “Oh. My sister was a magpie. She would discover small, shiny objects on the street or shop floors and bring them home. When we were sick, she used a brass disk as a worry talisman. It was one of the few treasures our mother found and gave her. I paid a jeweler to etch her likeness and turn the disk into a necklace years ago.”

“Can I see it?”

“I’m afraid there’s rather a few layers between my fingers and the clasp.” She said stiffly.

He coughed into his hands and scrambled to recover. “Right. Well, I believe that disk may have something to do with your curse. I’d like to run an experiment. Can you bring it back later today?”

She rubbed at the same spot, before nodding. “If you think it’ll help. I can’t afford to lose more students.”

“I do.”

“I’ll come by shortly before you close, if amendable. I’d rather this curse lifted sooner than later.”

#####

Jackson twirled the disk in the dim candlelight. Ms. Farthington had given it to him only after he promised not to damage it. He’d also promised to only hold it a single night, the tutor was very attached to the memento of her sister, which meant there was no chance to ask his uncle’s advice.

He rolled the chain in his fingers, watching the disk move. The etching on one side was well done, immortalizing a girl of ten. Her resemblance to Ms. Farthington was similar enough Jackson wondered if they were twins. There were occult connections between twins. Not always, but often. Was the spirit pushing back the veil and gripping the throats of young singers, cursing her sister’s students?

What would she have against the other girls?

He spun the disk in the other direction and watched the candlelight flash off the one-inch circle. It’d been lovingly taken care of, the brass polished to a high sheen.

Uncle Jonathan used bronze frequently; one could tell a lot about spirits based on how the metal took on a polished look.

Brass had few uses, mainly defensive. There were several devices in the shop, full of pendulums and searching rods, that emitted a wave designed to keep spirits away. Brass knuckles were able to knock a possessing spirit out of a man. And in the cellar, the dark chamber where his uncle kept those ghosts and ghouls he had trapped, were pieces of polished brass in locked wooden boxes.

Jackson watched the disk twist. Was the piece of brass a defensive tool or a trap for Ms. Farthington's sister? Now that it wasn't around Ms. Farthington's neck, his test was live. Pity it put Ms. Farthington at risk.

Jackson didn’t have his uncle’s ability with the supernatural, but he was very good at business.

######

When Ms. Farthington failed to show the next morning to claim her memento, Jackson closed up the shop to pay her a visit. She lent a room at a popular boarding house, so it was no matter to hail a carriage and tell the driver where to go.

Jackson had expected two results of his test – either Ms. Farthington would get sick or not. As it turned out, she’d gotten sick quickly. The mistress running the house hesitated to let Jackson see her, but when he mentioned he believed Ms. Farthington cursed and had the means to help, the mistress instructed a maid to take him to the appropriate room.

Watching Ms. Farthington struggle with the same illness her students had caught, he came to two conclusions. One, the disk had not been serving as a trap for the dead sister rather but as protection for Ms. Farthington. Two, the spirit causing problems was going after Ms. Farthington specifically.

Jackson wasn’t a full-fledged occultist. His uncle grudgingly taught him, and he’d never tried understanding a spirit by himself. However, he had witnessed the process multiple times, and the maid peering from the corner had no way of knowing it was his first spiritual diagnosis. With that in mind, he took a deep breath and stepped toward the bed, ignoring the faint smell of sweat.

Jackson pulled out and unwrapped three small bronze instruments, arranging them around Ms. Farthington’s pillow. His uncle had a knack for reading them in seconds, half science, half intuition. Jackson took longer but got answers he was confident in.

The spirit was family. It wanted revenge. The desire had been present for a while, possibly linked to the deceased sister. There was no other reason the memento was strong enough to reflect the curse for so long.

Jackson turned to the maid. “Did someone in Ms. Farthington’s family pass recently?”

She nodded. “Her mother, six months ago.”

“Must not have had a good relationship,” Jackson muttered.

He padded his pockets, wincing. There was a reason his uncle had a bag of supplies ready to go instead of grabbing items before leaving the shop. Jackson hadn’t brought the tools needed to talk to a spirit or any of the blessed items required for banishment.

All he found was a lighter, some tobacco, and the brass disk. He’d have to trap Ms. Farthington’s mother within the visage of her daughter.

Jackson looked around for an oil tray, but the boarding house had traded lamps for electric lights. Instead, he used a tea saucer and the back of a hand mirror as ashtrays, placing them on separate sides of the room. Some herbs produced a smoke that clung to spirits, allowing them to be seen. Tobacco wasn't ideal, but it would suffice. He lit the leaves, lamenting the loss of a good smoke.

Jackson had only seen his uncle trap a spirit a few times. Usually, Jonathan sent a spirit to the world beyond or talked it into leaving – both far easier. He asked the maid to leave, for her protection of course, and felt relieved when she nodded.

If he failed, no one would know and he could blame Ms. Farthington’s death on being there too late. He should have been called early that morning.

Cursing his inability to plan, Jackson hastily went through Ms. Farthington’s vanity. He found a brass hat pin, which would do. Now to herd the spirit into the disk.

Jackson watched the smoke swirl, looking for a spot where it stuck and didn’t flow with the air currents. An ash cluster appeared hovering over Ms. Farthington’s head. Slowly he stepped toward it, brass disk on his outstretched palm. As soon as the disk was under the ash-dusted form, Jackson brought the hat pin down from above as if he were performing an overhand clap.

“Drat,” he said, meeting resistance. He’d managed to condense the spirit, trapping it between the hat pin and disk. Jackson struggled to push the pin down, pressing against the air three inches above his palm.

On a whim, Jackson flipped the charm so the portrait of Ms. Farthington’s sister faced up. The spirit screeched. Jackson strongarmed the spirit into the brass, slamming the hat pin's shaft onto the disk.

At the supernaturally loud ding, Ms. Farthington opened her eyes and gasped.

Jackson quickly arranged his hair and collar before attempting to spread out the smoke.

“You were right, Ms. Farthington.” Jackson picked up the instruments near her head one by one. “You were cursed by your mother. I imagine she was upset your childhood illness took you instead of your sister, and saw a chance to remediate that. You’ll live, and your students are healed. I’ll be taking your etching of your sister though, I had to trap your mother in it.”

Ms. Farthington blinked at him. Jackson tugged on his lapels. “The shop will send you a bill for services.”

He rushed out to the sound of the maid exclaiming in awe at Ms. Farthington’s quick recovery.

Jackson rubbed the brass disk in his pocket. He’d have to show his uncle he was an occultist in his own right, not just an apprentice to mind the shop and polish the inventory.

------------------------

This story is my part of my Roll for Plot series, where I write a story each month based on dice roles. While I'll always share them on Tumblr, you can read then a week early if you subscribe to my Ko-Fi.

[kindauglypikachuicon]

I miss Poptropica so bad ;w;

At this point I’m just watching videos of people playing the islands

[themasthead]

Dragon Fire: Episode 170

After her escape from the great beast in the forest and pursuit of the strange intruder in the courtyard trees, Jaclynor slept soundly that night. She awoke the next morning to music rising up on the wind and filling the air. The people of Oakmouth were already crowding the streets in celebration of the Harvest Festival. This was the time of year when everyone in Oakmouth thankfully gathered…

[neopronouns-in-action]

Neopronouns in Action #088: What Kind of Teenager Doesn’t Want Money?

Neopronouns: kui/kuip/kuiper/(kuipers)/kuiperself and dae/daem/daems/daemself.

A quick pronounciation guide: kui/kuip/kuiper/(kuipers)/kuiperself are based on the Kuiper Belt, where “Kuiper” is pronounced to rhyme with the word “viper” or “typer”. So “kui” would be pronounced to rhyme with “I” “lie”, “sigh”, “buy” or “spy”.

(and typing all those rhyming words out really makes me aware of how absurd the English language is)

kui/kuip/kuiper/(kuipers)/kuiperself follow the same rules as they/them/their/(theirs)/themself.

Replace they with kui

Replace them with kuip

Replace their with kuiper

Replace theirs with kuipers

Replace themself with kuiperself

EX:

"They are going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as they get a fence set up around their yard so the puppy can go outside without them having to walk it. Their uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting them use, since they lost theirs. They're going to buy toys and train the puppy themself.”

Becomes:

"Kui are going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as kui get a fence set up around kuiper yard so the puppy can go outside without kuip having to walk it. Kuiper uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting kuip use, since kui lost kuipers. Kui're going to buy toys and train the puppy kuiperself.”

dae/daem/daems/daemself follows the same rules as he/him/his/himself

Replace he with dae

Replace him with daem

Replace his with daems

Replace himself with daemself

EX:

"He is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as he gets a fence set up around his yard so the puppy can go outside without him having to walk it. His uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting him use, since he lost his. He's going to buy toys and train the puppy himself.”

Becomes:

"Dae is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as dae gets a fence set up around daems yard so the puppy can go outside without daem having to walk it. Daems uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he’s letting daem use, since dae lost daems. Dae's going to buy toys and train the puppy daemself.”

___

Sarah entered the kitchen with only the intention of grabbing a popsicle from the freezer. Kui wanted to cool off from the hard day of working outside in the heat chasing down ritual sites with kuiper new detection mapper, but kui stopped in kuiper tracks just inside the doorway, staring.

Normally, when kui was going into the kitchen, kui had kuiper face buried in a paper of some sort, or kuiper phone, or kuiper laptop, or even a book, not really paying attention to what was going on as kui made kuiper way either to or from kuiper basement office. When kui wanted food, kui ordered in or went out.

Kui’d been leaving it up to Vanny, kuiper gigni, to make daems own food when dae wanted it since dae’d been tall enough to reach the microwave (And before that, kui’d gotten daem a step-stool so dae could reach). Kui hardly ever had to make food kuiperself, and never really paid attention to the kitchen.

But this time kui had nothing in kuiper hands to distract kuip from the sight that met kuiper eyes.

The kitchen was an absolute mess. There were open jars of peanut butter and jelly just sitting right out on the counter, a dirty spoon and knife not even lying on a plate, just sitting on the counter, still covered in peanut butter and jelly. Dirty dishes were everywhere, including the floor. Boxes and bags of cereal were strewn every which way, and ants and flies swarmed visibly.

Kui could smell the rot of the jelly from the doorway. Kui had started to faintly notice that smell a few days ago, but had been too absorbed in kuiper research to pay any attention to it. Trash in the form of various food wrappers and containers were on the floor, under the table, and even in the sink.

It took a few long seconds of open-mouthed staring for it to really sink in. And then all kui could do was stand there for a few more seconds, gaping.

This was...beyond unacceptable.

Forgetting kuiper desire for a popsicle, kui stomped kuiper foot on the floor and shouted at the top of kuiper lungs, “Vanny!”

Kui waited, enraged, for kuiper gigni to answer kuiper summons. Kui expected daem to be snappy about it. Dae had learned long ago to listen when kui called for daem.

But kui stood there, waiting, anger mounting higher, only for there to be no response, despite the deep blasting music kui could literally feel beating down through the walls from kuiper gigni’s room in the attic telling kuip that dae was home.

Dae probably obviously couldn’t hear kuip over the music, but that did nothing to cool kuiper anger, it just increased it.

“Vanny!” Kui shouted again, but to just as little avail.

After another few moments of waiting while kuiper anger and disgust simmered, kui finally gave in and spun around to stomp up the stairs, actually extremely disappointed that kuiper stomping couldn’t even be heard over the sound of the music coming from Vanny’s room.

Which did actually lower the level of kuiper anger somewhat to replace it with concern. Vanny had to be damaging daems hearing with the volume this loud. Sarah increased kuiper pace up the stairs, and practically jumped over the landing because kui was going so fast. And the music just kept getting louder with every step kui took. It was a miracle none of the neighbors had come over to complain.

A few bounds up the final set of stairs leading to the attic door, and in kuiper anger, Sarah forgot to knock before kui shoved the door open on its old and sticking hinges. Maybe when kui was less angry kui’d apologize for that later.

But what kui saw when kui came into kuiper gigni’s room threw that thought out the window faster than than a bird could fly.

Vanny was sitting in daems rolling chair in front of daems computer, spinning in circles and waving one hand in time to the music while dae visibly, if not audibly, sang along.

The room around daem was even worse than the kitchen. Now joining the trash and food was clothing, and daems stuffed animals, and even, to Sarah’s horror at the cost alone, cases for VHSs, CDs, DVDs, and video games, some of them lying open with the disks exposed, waiting for scratches to destroy their surface.

There was so much junk on the floor that Sarah couldn’t even take any further steps into the room unless kui wanted to step on multiple somethings. The space around the door was clear enough for it to open, but that was it. Not even under Vanny’s chair had been spared. There, right under the spinning seat, was what kui recognized as kuiper gigni’s favorite striped sweatshirt, crumpled up into a wrinkled mess.

There wasn’t even any point in trying to shout over the music that was blasting out from Vanny’s speaker. It was so loud, it was starting to give Sarah a headache just standing across the room. There was absolutely no way this wasn’t damaging kuiper gigni’s hearing. And at this range, probably kuipers as well. How and why did they even make speakers this loud?

Kui waved kuiper arms to get kuiper gigni’s attention, but it still took two more revolutions around the chair before dae noticed kuip. Vanny looked down from the ceiling, visibly spotted kuip, and put out a foot to stop the chair from spinning. Dae waved at kuip, like there was absolutely nothing wrong in the world, and said something that was probably, “Hey, mom”, but had no chance of actually reaching kuiper ears past the music.

Kui didn’t know what band it was, but the singer has just started giving a long, raw, drawn out scream that probably would have been impressive if it weren’t currently making kuip feel like kuiper ears were going to start bleeding any second now.

A migraine was quickly taking up residence inside Sarah’s skull, and kui frantically pointed at kuip ears, shouting, “Turn the music off!”

Vanny just stared at kuip for a few moments in very clear uncomprehension, and kui had to make several more wild gestures towards kuiper ears before daem made an “ah” face of understanding and turned the chair so dae could twist the knob on the speaker.

The music instantly cut off, leaving Sarah’s ears ringing and kuip feeling almost dizzy. The migraine was already setting in, and seemed to have decided to continue the beat of the music with a steady throb of pain like it was trying to dance along to the now silenced tune.

Kui put out a hand to brace kuiperself against the doorframe, and didn’t even have any idea where to start. Kui’d had a plan of action before kui saw the room, and before the music had smashed into kuip like a freight train, but now kuiper thoughts had all been thoroughly derailed.

“Yeah, mom?” Vanny asked, like dae had no idea there was anything wrong.

Kui had to put kuiper free hand to kuiper forehead and close kuiper eyes in an attempt to will the pain away as kui said through gritted teeth, saying the first thing that came to mind, since it seemed to be the most relelvant, “Vanny, you can’t play music that loud! You’re going to hurt yourself. It will actually damage your ears.”

Kui expected daem to be surprised, and concede, trusting kuiper, but Vanny’s voice was unconcerned as dae said, “It doesn’t hurt.”

Kui opened kuiper eyes to look at daem, trying to put as much serious authority into kuiper voice as kui could. Kui knew what it was like to be a teenager who thought they were invincible. Dae was looking back cheerfully, casual, calm. Not worried at all. Behind daem on the computer screen kui could see a digital pinball game open, the pause bar flashing.

Kui said firmly, trying to sound as authoritative as possible, “You might not notice any pain, but there’s delicate structures in your ear that get damaged by loud sounds, even if you aren’t noticing it.” Kui tried, and failed, to remember any of the actual terms for what kui was talking about. “Trust me, one of my friends went deaf in one ear from that sort of thing.”

Vanny shrugged, cheerfully, like kui hadn’t said anything at all. “I’m fine, mom.”

For a few flabbergasted seconds, Sarah couldn’t figure out if kui wanted to scream out of anger for daems stubborn insubordination or concern for daems health. Finally kui settled for being angry.

“I’m cutting your allowance for the next two months, and taking back what you got paid for the last two weeks.” Kui snapped, “And you’re grounded from having friends over until this room, and the kitchen, are spotless.” Then, almost belatedly, “And you’re going to hand over those speakers, and all of your headphones, if you’re not going to listen to me and listen to music at a reasonable volume.”

Vanny just shrugged again, like dae had no problem with this sentencing. “Okay.”

Dae didn’t even wait to be told twice, dae just casually reached over and with a flick, pulled the audio jack for the speaker out of the back of daems computer, grabbed the speaker by its handle, and jumped out of the chair to carry it across the filthy floor to kuip like kui’d asked daem to let kuip borrow a pencil for a minute instead of taking away something dae clearly enjoyed as a punishment.

“Here you go.” Dae said, holding the speaker out to kuip.

Kui took it in one numb hand, and dae hopped over piles of trash like dae weighed nothing, and went to the nightstand by daems bed, pulling out the familiar plastic bag dae used to store all daems earbuds, then daems single pair of large, over-the-ear headphones.

A few seemingly effortless hops back over the trash, and dae handed the bag and the headphones to kuip, too, like dae wasn’t phased at all. Dae even smiled, still just as cheerful as before.

What in the world was going on?

“I’m not joking about your allowance or you being grounded.” Kui said sternly, thinking that maybe dae just didn’t believe kuip about the extent of the punishment.

Dae shrugged again, like dae didn’t know how to do any other emote, or any other emotion besides cheerful acceptance of things dae should be upset about. “I didn’t think you were joking,” dae said, “It’s fine. I don’t really mind.”

And then as casual as anything, dae turned and, hopping over piles of trash, flopped onto daems bed on daems back, sprawling with daems arms spread out to the sides as dae looked up at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Sarah had absolutely no idea how kui was supposed to react to this.

“I want you to start cleaning your room right now.” Kui decided to say, finding it hard to keep the anger in kuiper voice now that confusion was trying to drown everything else out.

Vanny waved a hand vaguely in kuiper direction. “Eh.” dae said.

Kui almost choked on kuiper own spit at the audacity. “Excuse me?!”

Dae rolled onto daems side to look at kuip, daems head propped up on one hand. “I don’t feel like it.” Dae said.

“Not even if you lose your allowance?” kui ground out.

Vanny gave a little smile. “It’s just money, it’s not even real, why should I care?” dae asked.

Sarah was beyond flabbergasted. What kind of teenager didn’t want money?

But kui had to have something to hold over daem. “You can’t have your friends over until it’s cleaned!” Kui said sharply.

But now that kui really thought about it, kui couldn’t really remember the last time dae’d had any friends over. Since daems school had let out for the summer, dae’d mostly been going out to be with daems friends, rather than staying home.

Kui decided to add on to the punishment with, “You can’t go out with your friends, either! Not until your room and the kitchen are both cleaned!”

Vanny rolled back onto daems back and waved another dismissive hand in kuiper direction. “I can see them whenever I want.”

Was dae talking about talking to them on the web?

“I’ll ground you from your computer if I have to, Vanny Thanatos Blakewood!”

It was the first time kui’d said daems full chosen first and middle names to show kui was seriously upset. Kui had to admit kui was a little proud of kuiperself for not hesitating even over the middle name, which kui still associated with the hazy memories of kuip highschool history classes.

Kui thought that maybe kuiper gigni would take kuip seriously now. But kui was wrong.

Dae just laughed, like kui’d told a joke. “I can just go hang out with them whenever I want, mom, it’s not like you can stop me.”

Sarah felt like kui was losing kuiper mind. Vanny had never acted like this before. “I forbid it!” Kui exclaimed, “What part of ‘you’re grounded’ don’t you understand?”

Vanny just shook daems head, like it was all very funny, and didn’t take daems eyes off the ceiling as dae said simply, and still casually, like dae wasn’t even upset, “You can say I’m not allowed to go out, but you can’t actually stop me. I don’t have to listen to you just because you say so.”

This was more than Sarah could handle at the moment. The careless, easy dismissal of all of kuiper authority as daems mother. The sheer disregard for any of the punishments kui’d laid out. Kui could not handle this while kuiper head was still aching from the music.

All kui could do was say again, “You’re grounded!” and turn and leave the room, hooking kuiper elbow around the doorknob to try and slam it behind kuip since kuiper hands were full, but it didn’t work as well as kui’d hoped. It just closed slowly and sadly after kuip and then bounced back open a few inches.

Kui stared at it for half a second in disbelief at the fact that now even the door seemed determined to disobey kuip, and then shook kuiper head with an exclamation of disgust and stormed back down the stairs, determined to get to kuiper office and call Mr. Mullerson so he could ensure his own kids didn’t violate Vanny’s grounding until dae learned how to do what dae was told.

Walking through the trashed kitchen was like walking through a terrible dream. How long had it been this way, and why had it taken kuip so long to notice? What in the world had gotten into Vanny that dae suddenly didn’t respect kuiper authority or even the threats of daems allowance being taken away?

Ugh!

Still angry, kui disdainfully dropped the speaker, headphones, and earbuds into the kitchen trashcan, since there was no trash in it since it was all on the floor, grabbed the popsicle kui’d originally intended to get out of the freezer, and retreated down the stone steps to kuiper office room, kuiper head still pounding with the beat of the silenced music like a ghost trying to get out of kuiper skull.

Kui threw kuiperself into kuiper office chair as kui tore the wrapper off the popsicle and took an angry bite out of it, no longer even able to remember what kui’d been planning to do on kuiper computer originally.

The orange-cream flavor didn’t cheer kuip up nearly as much as kui’d hoped it would. Mostly it just reminded kuip of how much of a mess everything had somehow become without kuip noticing.

...And now the sound-induced headache was being joined by a teeth-achingly cold brain freeze.

Kui sighed aloud and closed kuiper eyes, leaning back in the chair with kuiper face pointed up at the ceiling, where, far above kuip, kuiper gigni was probably still lying on daems bed staring up at the ceiling without a care in the world.

Kui looked back down at kuiper computer and jiggled the mouse to get it to wake up, trying to remember which forms kui was supposed to be filling out with the information kui’d collected today.

Kui would deal with all of this when kuiper head stopped hurting. For now kui was going to just try and enjoy the dang popsicle without getting another brain freeze.

[pinthorror]

“This is my EVP recorder, I leave it running to capture any noises or voices we might hear on the investigation. I have two actually, in case one malfunctions - this one can be worn on your wrist. Then this is my EMF meter, it measures fluctuations in electromagnetic fields. I have a full spectrum camera, it records very high quality video, infrared, etc, well beyond what a human can see normally. This is a ghost box, the idea is the spirit can interact with it, make noises, that sort of thing, so we can actually communicate both ways. I also have these lasers which you set up to detect movement, and a set of night vision goggles. Oh and I built this, it works a bit like a theremin, if the ghost moves past it it makes a noise, so you have to leave it far enough away so you don’t set it off yourself. I’m very proud of it.”

“That’s quite a lot of stuff.” I said. “Looks expensive!”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, altogether probably about £3000 of gear there. I’m looking to get a 360 camera next”.

“And have you detected any ghosts yet?”

“No.”

[outcasting101]

Prompt idea

When a former serial killer unravel a mystery of their partner to be a hot topic series killer during an investigation of ghost hunt for “Doutube”.

I think you know where I got this inspiration.

[witchhuntress]

Future Plans

Am going to update my LJ soon. I will try this week. Really hate how the pics just suddenly poofed and made things unreadable >.< I will definitely make it a plainer scheme this time.

Will also try to update a Vol 3 part every week-—parts that I haven’t posted yet throughout the years I was gone since end of 2019. Since I have work to take into account, will also try to squeeze in GH fanart translations & other translations I have been planning for so long.

I will also add the vol 3 translations & translation notes to Baka-Tsuki once I am done (just takes some formatting, but it’ll be done).

I really apologize for being gone for so long. Just been really busy with irl stuff throughout the years.

[shiny-jr]

I’ve just had a vision, what if a yan (e.g riddle or vil because they are most princess-ish) was a trapped in a castle away like in one of those stereotypical fairy tales and the reader decides to save them because they are a ‘damsel in distress’ and reader is like a hero… only to realise there is a reason why they were locked away (because they were batshit crazy)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: You are a thief with freshly stolen goods. Chased and hunted down, you avoid capture by finding a castle hidden in gloom and fog. Locals told legends of this place, saying a royal had been trapped within. Of course, you don't quite believe such tall tales. That is, until you discover the royal and learned that they were purposefully sealed inside...

Note: I think I'll call this one, not your valiant savior. It's just a placeholder name for now. Just a quick post, so sorry if it's bad.

It was too easy. What did they expect when they left out a priceless object owned by the royal family and estimated to be worth a fortune? Of course a famed thief on the loose such as yourself, would just be itching to snatch the relic. And snatch you did, living up to your reputation of thief. Each member having unique abilities to assist in stealing. Your mother had speed to outrun anyone in a chase, your grandfather had the talent of picking any locks, your great-grandmother could sweet-talk anyone then rob them blind. And so on and so forth.

And of course, you had your own talent. As quiet as a mouse and with fingers that stuck to valuables like glue, stealing became like second nature. Literally. However, it wasn't exactly a talent valued by the wider community, and if you stole enough you could end up on terribly drawn wanted posters. Which is why staying in one place wasn't wise.

From place to place, you went taking and claiming anything of worth. When you got very low on cash, you set your sights high: on the vault that stored the royal's priceless treasures. There was bound to be endless riches stored within, if only you could get your grubby hands on them. Well, after careful planning, you had. It wasn't a giant gem or sack full of gold.

Time was short, so you had grabbed the closest thing you could before guards could find you. A golden box encrusted with jewels. Who knew what was inside? Maybe some family heirloom, a magical artifact, or something else of high value. And with the box, you bolted, and the chase had begun out of the city and through the woods.

As fast as you could, you ran through the mystic woods, a forrest travelers and locals alike were all wary of. It was the safest place you could go when chased by frightening palace guards on horseback that would do anything to take back what you stole and drag you back to the gallows. Even the woods heavy with fog and dark from the clouds overhead, had deterred your pursuers enough for you to slip out of their reach and deeper into the forrest where there was no way they would be able to track you. Here, you would have to wait until tomorrow and depart early. Then, you'd be home free and rich beyond your wildest dreams.

After what felt like hours of walking, you stumbled upon a bridge over a gloomy lake. In the middle, sat an old castle of gray stone and dark windows. A castle once said to hold a royal captive, but of course, you didn't believe such stories that were so old they were told to your own grandparents. This castle would be your sanctuary for the night. And maybe, just maybe, you'd clutch the jeweled box and dream of simpler times when you were told fairytales of locked away royals waiting for a savior.

The castle was exactly like those set in spooky tales, haunted by vengeful spirits and claimed by ghosts. It appeared abandoned, that much was obvious by the crumbling stone bridge and the battered old wooden doors that once protected the inhabitants.

Cautiously stepping over the splintered debris of the front door, you didn’t bother boarding it up since no one would be stupid enough to follow you inside.

There was wreckage and ruin everywhere. If you had to guess, whatever happened here, whether the people were driven away by conflict or time, it was followed by the destruction of time. Time with weather were likely all factors that led to the disarray of what was probably once a grand estate. Strangely enough, there was furniture and decor. Everything coated in dust and grime, but still here. Had people been too afraid to enter the grounds? There were so many valuables that could've been looted!

"I'll definitely have to come back here later." You scoff, turning over a few clothes or broken furniture with your foot to uncover possible hidden goodies. Maybe something as small but valuable as a ring was lost somewhere on the ground.

Proceeding to carry the golden box under your arm, you decide to search for the cleaniest, not-so-moldy room where you could spend the night. On the third floor halls, you see ripped curtains and frames where portraits loosely hung. Every rug was brown with dirt and dust.

There were items left behind, which showcased the life one led here. A piano too big to steal, the skeleton of a chandelier and broken gems hanging from its limbs, empty glass perfume bottles now filled with dust. The place must've been wondrous once, but now it was like a tomb. A setting frozen in time.

When you found moonlight filtering through the open balcony of what looked to be the master bedroom, you paused to see the space wrecked more than the others. As if more than just weather and time had affected this place. The owner of this castle likely slept in this very room, on that very bed where the sheets were ruffled and unkempt.

"I wonder who used to live here..." You murmur to no one in particular, as you approach the balcony looking over the bridge and woods. This would be a good vantage point.

A heavy fog settled over the woods, extending over the bridge like water. Good, an extra layer for cover. You stepped back into the room, analyzing every carved piece of wooden furniture, makeup and brushes stored on tabletops, a separate room as long as a hallway and filled with all types of articles of clothing.

If all this was still here, then was it possible some jewelry was left behind? You scoured the room, looking for hidden compartments while murmuring to yourself to fill the ominous silence. As you pulled back a curtain against a wall, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw an uneven lump underneath the wallpaper.

Could this be handle leading to a vault of treasures? With that in mind, you ripped off the old wallpaper. A glimmer of gold made your heart soar with hope, but when you caught sight of your reflection, you stopped and stared. A mirror. It was a large mirror, oval shaped, with golden borders so intricately decorated. However, when a hand suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror, like a ghostly apparition, you screamed and stumbled back.

A hand– there was a hand in the mirror! You stared with widened eyes full of shock, as the hand pressed its palm against the surface of the glass. You couldn't see anything else, no one behind the hand. After a second, the slim pale hand delicately pointed a long dainty finger at the box you were holding in a vice grip.

"What...? This? You want this? But..."

You had worked hard to procure this golden box from the royals. Pursing your lips, you contemplated your options, with so many questions running rampant in your mind. What was that thing? A magic mirror? A magic mirror would be priceless, much more valuable than any gold. However, if it was magic, it would be tricky. Possibly even sentient. So you'd have to gain its favor.

"Alright, alright, the box. You know, I went through hell trying to get this."

You informed the mirror, unsure if it even understood you. You carefully set down the heavy box in front of the mirror, and watch as the hand made a motion with its fingers.

Click!

It had unlocked the box, without even a key or tool. A grin broke out on your face. Had it done it for you? Apparently not, because the box opened on its own and a heavy thick tome floated out from it and into the air. The hand beckoned the tome closer, and closer it came, until it was literally phasing through the glass.

"Hey! Wait––"

The glass shattered, the sound booming and ringing out in the silence like an explosion. You only had a second to react, instinctually using your arms to shield your face from the glass flying out in every direction. When it stopped, you looked around. The mattress was shredded, the curtains torn to shreds, wooden furniture cut as if done by an axe, but miraculously you were somehow unharmed.

A breath, not of your own, caught your attention. Your eyes darted over to the now broken mirror, awestruck at the vision of a figure stepping over broken glass. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, more than any words could convey. Their hair like gold and eyes an alluring shade of purple like two amethyst stones, soft pink lips, and a tall slim pale figure clothed in odd robes. For a moment, whoever this person was, appeared disoriented for a brief moment, but they clutched the tome like a lifeline. The tome that came from the box you had stolen.

"Thank you––"

He breathed, his voice quiet as he attempted to stand tall and upright. When his legs nearly gave out beneath him, you were there to catch his hand and prevent him from falling as he looked at you with appreciation. You were just stunned, bewildered, in pure disbelief.

"You... You freed me. You returned my stolen tome...!"

He exclaimed in disbelief, as he restored his posture. Somehow, he was able to stand in heels, but heels were currently one of the least important details.

What did he mean freed?

There was no time to ask any questions. The loud sound of the shattering must've alerted any of your pursuers that had followed you thus far, because from the balcony you could make out the torchlights weaving their way directly towards the bridge.

The mysterious man from the mirror took notice of your expression of dismay as he glanced at the distant torchlights. Smoothing out his robes, he looked back at you and took in your expression. "Enemies of yours?"

"Yes..." You nod slowly.

"Now that just won't do. I can't have anyone harming, or even killing my savior. I've yet to even learn your name." Tapping some well-manicured fingers against the spine of the tome, he appeared to contemplate something. When he stopped tapping his fingers, he smiled so sweetly. "I am Vil Schoenheit, prince and prodigy. Here's my proposition to you, my savior: I will destroy your enemies for a small price. You must tell me your name, and I will grant you my protection."

Of course you gave him your name, and almost immediately you saw the fog below turn an odd color. The torchlights flickered out, you no longer heard their encouraged shouts to move forward but instead their screams echoing in the dark woods. All after Vil murmured a few words in a foreign tongue read from his tome, as he continued to gaze at your intently. What exactly was he to cause so much death in a single instant with hardly any effort...? And you were stuck in this abandoned castle with him.

The prince had no plans to abandon you, he's made that much clear when you attempted to casually part ways after thanking him for getting rid of your pursuers. Stay. I can make it worth your while. Once I reach my former glory, you'll be able to bask in it with me. Is what he said as you swore you heard the front of the castle be sealed shut.

The entire time he looked around the castle with disdain, cross as he complained about the state of his home. While helping him clean up some rooms, he told you more about himself. Vil was a prince who once lived in this castle, set to inherent the throne shortly after the death of his father. However, he was widely feared due to being a prodigy in dark magics and genius at brewing concoctions. For attempting to steal the life of a younger kinder foreign prince who specialized in good magic, he was trapped in a mirror with his tome being the only key to grant him freedom.

Vil actually appeared to be much too fond of you, which you attributed to his isolation. If you were imprisoned all alone in a mirror for centuries, you likely would've gone insane. It was a miracle Vil's mind was intact, but maybe he wasn't there entirely. Because what sane person killed people with the snap of their fingers while smiling so kindly at the one who set him free?

Pridefully he listed off his feats and accomplishments. Living prodigy. Most beautiful man in the land. Prince of the land. It felt too much like flaunting, as he wanted you to realize how truly great he was. He replaced your clothes with his own, and while combing your hair he reminded you that what's rightfully his will be returned to him one day, and you would be there beside him that day.

The crown was what he wanted, a crown he believed was stolen from him and passed down to the descendants of the very good prince he attempted to kill. He spoke of a future in the castle restored to its former glory, where citizens would be loyal to him once again, and those that wronged him will receive a fate worse than death. Positions were open for applying once he became king, he told you one day. He was still searching for a vassal, a knight, a jester, or a partner to wear a crown as well.

Was it the isolation that had driven him to become so attached to the one who set him free? It was possible, but you couldn't even be sure. For all you knew, he could've been like this before he became trapped in the mirror. What mattered now was that he did not make any effort to hide his attraction towards you. Vil was offering a thief all the riches he would attain after his plan for vengeance, and his heart in a golden box.

"Keep the knives I gifted you, although I doubt you'll have to resort to lifting a finger. Just allow me to handle it when the time comes. I want to extract vengeance slowly and painfully, make them hurt just as they did to me... And at the end of the day, you will be there, you little thief who stole my affections, to comfort me and drive away those memories of cold lonely centuries in darkness. You'll be there for me, won't you, my valiant savior?"

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is an ao3 writer

Hear me out!

Y'know how there's a running joke that ao3 authors/writers will put in the author's notes that they're sorry that they took so long to update and their reason is because of either they got into a horrible accident/ life threatening health issue/serious personal issues/ their life went up in flames figuratively or literally, or somehow a combination of all of those scenarios. And they're all like "Well enjoy the chapter! tee-hee!" and everybody who's reading it all collectively go "are you okay?!" (aka the ao3 writers curse)

So I want to take this, and add Danny

Danny begins taking a liking to the classic literature that Mr. Lancer talks about during class and decides to writes a fanfic about it along those lines. It all starts for when he writes a Pride and Prejudice fic where Charlotte gets a better life where she's both happy and comfortable. And when he gets pretty supportive comments about it. He starts writing fics for other books as well (and it never stops)

During that time, who else but the Jane Austen fan, Jason Todd reads this fic. Yes he reads fanfic (do not ask him about his ao3 history), he yearns for more Jane Austen, but unfortunately she's not exactly able to write more books for him to read. So he turns to ao3 where there are some people who have incredible talent for writing pretty good regency era romance.

So what happens when he finds a couple of Pride and Prejudice stories written by " HalfDeadHalfAliveWriter

And when reading through the stories and looking at the author's notes.

All with very weird scenarios happening to the writer that he can't be sure that if it's a joke or if it's an actual thing he should be very worried about.

Author's notes such as:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this I was being shot at by my parents and ended up getting a burn on my hand and couldn't use my computer for awhile.

Sorry the chapter's so short, all the people in my town are being possessed by a hoard of angry ghosts because somebody had a bright idea to steal an artifact that belongs to an ancient civilization. So I had to get this out quick before they ruin my wifi connection

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had to fight off a crazy guy that is obsessed with killing my father so he could marry my mother and become my new stepfather.

Sorry for the wait I got sent back to Ancient Egypt by my mentor to hunt down a runaway ghost that was messing with time.

But honestly the most recent author's note on a fic that hadn't been updated in week is what makes Jason really worried.

Sorry for not updating for a couple months guys, I was taken by a government agency that started vivisecting and torturing me. Thankfully my sister and friends busted me out and now I'm working on healing up. Anyway here's the Great Gatsby fic where Nick and Gatsby kiss.

After reading that author's note, Jason just sits there thinking only one thing.

What the fuck?

[gotghost]

The curse of Poveglia, Italy

When a bad man dies, he wakes up in Poveglia, according to a Venetian legend. The island, just south of Venice, is now known as one of the most haunted places in the world. It’s believed that there are 160,000 bodies buried there: victims of the plague, lepers and psychiatric patients.

In the 1920s, the island became a hospital and psychiatric center, where the director practiced cruel and unusual techniques (most notably: shoving a chisel into patients' brains to see what moved) before he committed suicide, throwing himself off the tallest bell tower.

[gwen-tolios]

EBook Week!

Two of my books are part of the Smashwords Read and Ebooks Week Sale!

From March 5 - 11, you can get Cydelle's Ghost Hunt (MG Fantasy Horror) or Tomorrow and Beyond (short story collection with a heavy science fiction flavor) for 50% off!

This means that Cydelle is free for the week and Tomorrow is on sale for $1.49!