#i am so normal about tiny ghosts i swear

[theobs3ssivepuppeteer]

TINY GHOST SUPREMACY LES GOOOOOOO🦅✨✨✨

TINY GHOSTS SCREAAHHHH 🦅🦅🦅🦅

[soap-ify]

ruru!! i hope you are doing well, i'm sending hugs ♡(˶˃ᆺ˂˶)

my brain is currently filled to the brim with the idea of gaz being such a lil shit!! he has you on his lap in a crowded bar, all of task141 piled into a tiny booth. it starts off relatively normal, an average pub night for the five of you but then he get's playful, touching you teasingly and soap is the first to catch on, watching with googly eyes that makes you flustered and shy!!

gaz acts like you aren't even there, just a stress toy for him to play with while his team watches and talks about you :((

LAURY HELLO! sending you lots of hugs too this is so filthy... he's such a little shit! (this is unedited btw so like... yeah.)

cw — f!reader, pre-established gaz x reader, majorly suggestive.

gaz couldn’t care less about the fact that his whole team was simply watching you while you squirmed on his lap, his hands wandering over your body.

it was supposed to be a sweet, innocent, hangout — just relaxing after all the stress and catching up with each other. though you snuggling up into your boyfriend’s side was clearly a mistake since he was so quick to pull you on his lap, catching you off guard. all you could do was giggle sheepishly and try to ignore the heat rising up on your cheeks, doing your best to focus on the conversation.

though gaz made it harder for you to properly concentrate, his hands lazily fondled the plush of your thighs, sometimes moving up to your stomach.

“kyle-” you tried to warn him by whispering softly. you realised that you weren’t being discreet once you looked over at soap, catching him staring at you with an amused gaze, lips curled up into a cheeky grin. ghost was staring at you too, his eyes observing you intently while he took slow sips of his drink,

you were too afraid to look over at price, knowing that he was most probably staring at you as well. your eyes instead looked around the cramped bar, making sure no one was looking over at the booth you five were sitting in.

“teasin’ her too much eh, sergeant?” price chuckled gruffly, taking a puff of his cigar, the scent seeming even more stronger than before. you could swear that your senses were getting even more aware due to all of this attention, gaz’s fondling doing nothing but making your head all blurry.

“ye showin’ her off tae us!” soap feigned offense and pouted grumpily, crossing his arms. ghost didn’t bother to say anything, though his intense gaze spoke louder than anything.

“am i?” gaz pretended to be oblivious, ignoring the soft whimper that left your lips once his fingers slipped inside your shirt, the contact with your skin making you shiver. “you don’t mind it, do you lovie?” he cooed into your ear, his lips grazing against the side of your jaw. you dumbly nodded, your hands clenching into the corner of the table.

“no i don’t…” your whisper made soap shuffle closer to you and gaz, his hand reaching over to cup the side of your face, tilting your head over to him.

“bonnie lass…” his tone made your insides warm up even more. gaz leaned back a bit so soap could touch you a bit more, his hands eagerly beginning to paw onto your thighs. you shifted on gaz’s lap, squeaking quietly once you felt his boner pressing against the back of your ass, your subtle shifting causing you to unintentionally grind against him

“careful there, johnny. you’re acting like a starved dog.” ghost clicked his tongue, scooting over to price so they both could watch the two sergeants grabbing you like their personal stress toy, eager to devour you up.

price knew that he was taking you all home once your eyes met him briefly, flipping some switch on inside him.

“i’ll pay the bills, you go and start the car. alright?” he whispered over to his lieutenant.

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline WIP Wednesday

This is my humble contribution to this wip Weds! It's a tiny little snippert from the next chapter of Speed Dating, which has been sitting untouched for way too long. Genuinely hoping this might give me the will to keep going because I am this 🤏 close to the finish line (before editing starts and the finish line gets away from me again but shhhh, we're not going there yet).

--

She doesn't see Elijah again for the next two days. Whatever he's in town for, he either glides around the apartment like a ghost or their schedules are totally at odds. If not for the extravagantly fancy woolen overcoat by the door and what she has quickly learned is a very particular brand of moodiness for Klaus, she would've thought he'd already left.

It's probably for the best, considering the horror of that first meeting, but curiosity is an unscratchable itch. Elijah has intrigued her for years, more so than any of Klaus’ other siblings. Putting a face - well, a little more than a face, really - to the person is a given, but she can't help the desire to dig deeper. It’s in her nature to be nosy. About him, about Klaus, about the whole family. 

Despite the fact she's lived with one and been friends with another for years, the Mikaelsons remain a mystery to her. The more she knows, the more confusing it gets. Nothing about them seems to make much sense, and Caroline hasn't even decided if that's a super-rich, children of the 1% thing, or if the Mikaelsons are especially wacky even among their peers.

After two days, though, she's just about lost hope of bumping into Elijah again. She doubts he'll be staying for much longer, especially with Klaus' cordial show of hospitality. Not that Elijah seemed bothered - being rude to siblings for no apparent reason seems to be one of those things that are normal by Mikaelson standard. It's just how they operate.

She's just back from a shift at the hospital, idly scrolling through her Instagram while she waits for the microwave to deliver her sad leftover dinner. Bitterly, she realizes it has been months since she last updated her feed. Her last photo is with Tyler, for crying out loud. Should she even keep it there? What's the etiquette for when you break up with someone for no earth-shattering reasons, the relationship just fizzling out and running its course? Is it rude to delete all evidence of him from her social media records? Is it expected? Will he be upset? Has he deleted her from his social media? 

In fact, now that she thinks about it... Is Tyler even seeing anyone?

"Huh," she mumbles to herself, fully internalizing in that second how truly messy her life has become that she hasn't even cyber-stalked her ex to know what he's been up to since they broke up. That's a whole new level of rock bottom unlocked, right there.

"Miss Forbes?"

Caroline nearly drops her phone when she looks up to find Elijah standing by the kitchen door. She swears to God the man is unnaturally feline; she didn't even hear him approach.

Unlike in their first encounter, he's now fully clothed and, unsurprisingly, he looks just as good as he did without a stitch on. Maybe better. His suit looks as though it was sewn directly onto his body by an Italian master tailor. The range of that man.

"Hey!" She cringes at her high pitch, standing up straight. 

His smile is affable as he steps further into the kitchen. "Do I interrupt?"

"What? No. I was just scrolling."

Caroline feels suddenly very self-conscious of just how crazy frumpy she must look standing in front of Elijah. The man is a poster boy for wellness and prosperity, while she is... Well. Not.

Suffice to say she's wearing a Timberwolves t-shirt from her long-gone cheerleading days in high school with at least five visible holes on it.

"I've been meaning to apologize for that horrid incident the other day," he starts. Caroline wouldn’t have brought the incident up, assuming he would rather forget it ever happened, but if it causes him any measure of discomfort to have been butt naked in front of a complete stranger, he does not show, which - now that she thinks about, is something else that feels very Mikaelson-esque. They do all seem to be incredibly comfy in their own skins. "Niklaus warned me that you would be home soon, but my despair for a proper shower was stronger than caution. I should've been more careful."

"You don't have to apologize. It's fine. It was nothing." That would've been a good place to stop. A very mature and dignified let's leave it at that and never mention it again. But her stupid mouth just keeps going. "I see naked people all the time at the hospital. It's totally unremarkable." Elijah's eyebrows inch upwards into a mildly curious expression. "I don't mean that you are unremarkable!" she corrects, and then, getting immediately horrified at the implications, adds, "You're not - I mean, you're ok, you're - obviously. Not that I was looking, I wasn’t - I just mean - You know what? I'm just gonna shut up now." She snaps her lips sealed, half-wishing that a hole would open underneath her feet and suck her into the magma of the earth.

[licorice-tea]

I’m A Ghost Of You, You’re A Ghost Of Me Pt. 4

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Content: strawhat reader, gender neutral reader, drinking in a bar, one mention of virginity (in a jokey way), mainly just reader and zoro talking, brief mention of fighting/canon typical violence, a tiny bit angsty, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: this part is kind of like reader and zoro’s first date! just a lot of talking and some angsty feelings about failure :/ but with comfort! also i’ve never been to a bar or drank a ton (im 19) so im sorry if the descriptions of alcohol are inaccurate (but also zoro canonically drinks an insane amount without actually getting drunk so idk.) also im not really sure where i want the series to go from here so… leave suggestions? anyway, enjoy! <3

Part 3

Reverse Mountain and the encounter with Laboon served to bring you closer to your new crew in a matter of hours. Though you were the last to join in the East Blue, it felt like you’d already known them all a lifetime. Your place on the crew comes naturally to you as you work in tandem with the others to overcome these obstacles.

After the long day and several brushes with death, the Straw Hats arrive to an island called Whiskey Peak. The inhabitants, surprisingly, seem enthralled with your arrival. They welcome you all with open arms and invite the crew to free drinks and a night of fun at one of their bars. It’s a little suspicious to some, but you (being on the more naive and fresh side) see nothing wrong with it. And so, you all happily go along with their invitation.

Which is how you found yourself here: sitting on a barstool with a line of shot glasses before you.

“Gonna drink all that yourself?”

You look up and smile at the voice- Roronoa Zoro. “Nope, it’s for you.”

He sits besides you, “2… 8… You got me 10 shots?”

“I wasn’t sure what you drink. Besides, I said I’d treat you.”

You tell him what each drink is, he picks out 5, then slides the rest toward you. “Drink up, y/n.”

“Oh.. I, uh… I don’t really drink.” Especially not 5 shots at once, at that.

Zoro shrugs, “‘s your tab.”

You watch as he downs all 5 of the drinks he’s chosen, eyes wide in surprise that he was able to do so by the end. Then, he looks at you expectantly. Steeling yourself for what’s to come, you nod with a sense of duty and face your 5 shots. “Here goes nothing.”

The first burns a little, but it’s nothing you can’t handle (despite the look of disgust on your face.) The second has you coughing- only because you took it right after the first, of course. Zoro barks out a laugh and pats your back. You wave him off, “I’m fine, I’m fine…” and pick up the third. Still chuckling, he grabs your wrist (with the hand that isn’t rubbing your back in circles) and lowers it down to the table.

“I was kidding, don’t drink more than you can handle. Takes out all the fun.” He proceeds to down the 3 remaining shots, completely disregarding his previous statement.

“Well, you sure make it look easy.” The annoyance in your voice is evident.

“I’ve got a high tolerance. But you,” His arm is now resting on the back of your seat, and you feel a finger poke you square in the back. “are a lightweight.”

“I- hey! I am not a lightweight. Taking 8 shots just like that isn’t normal, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m better than normal.”

A soft smile spreads across your features. “You sure about that, Zoro?”

“Wh- Of course I’m sure. Why, you don’t think I am?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance in order to mess with him. “I don’t know… that guy over there just finished his 12th drink of the night, sooo…”

“What guy? You’re kidding, I swear-“

Laughter erupts from your chest, similar to his own fit when you struggled to down the 2nd of your 2 drinks.

“Oh. Ha-ha, real funny y/n.”

“God, you’re so easy to mess with! What happened to the stoic swordsman I met on the beach last year?”

He shrugs, “Same guy.”

“Hm…” You’ve noticed that he seems to get a little defensive when you bring up that night. “Why don’t you want to talk about that night?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Zoro. C’mon, you can talk to me… We’re crew mates, right?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments; just looks down at the bar. “I failed. Plain and simple.”

“Oh…. because you didn’t bring me back to my island?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t think that’s the same as failure, you chose to-“

“You don’t get it, y/n. I couldn’t force you to go back. I wanted to, I was going to, but I couldn’t.”

“…Not to toot your horn, Zoro, but you’re plenty strong. I would’ve put up a good fight, but I’m not sure I would’ve won-“ You pat your arrow quiver, “especially not at such a close distance.”

“No. I really couldn’t.” Frustration begins to seep into his tone. “I couldn't find the- the strength or resolve. And I still don’t know why, but if things hadn’t just worked out in the end like they did…”

“But, they did, Zoro. And, I still don’t really understand what you mean, but just because you go against orders doesn’t mean you’re a failure or anything like that. You’re your own person.”

“I’m my own person who wants to fulfill my duties.”

“Even if it meant doing the wrong thing?”

“… I have my limits.”

“So then why are you beating yourself up over one task you didn’t carry out, especially one that wasn’t morally right? I’m biased, of course, but still…”

“’Cause I didn’t see anything wrong with it. But I just couldn't do it. I couldn’t have done anything that night if I’d wanted to- it’s like I was…” he trails off, shaking his head instead of finishing his sentence.

“Like you were what?”

Zoro shrugs. “Stunned.” If he were more of a romantic in his manner of speaking, he would’ve added something along the lines of “by you; by your smile and the way you move.”

“Hm. Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad that you were. Or else I’d still be kicking it in a boring old house with boring people.”

He exhales sharply in a dry laugh. “Hmph. My pleasure.”

The rest of the night, which both of you seem to have forgotten is technically your first date, goes by in a flash. Zoro has another bottle and a half of sake, which you pay for while wondering how one person can drink so much and not seem inebriated. Soon enough, most everyone in the bar is knocked out- save for you, Zoro, the bartender, and a few stragglers.

“You haven’t had anything to drink all night.” He observes.

“Those shots were more than enough.”

Zoro shakes his head and waves over the bartender. “What’s your drink?”

You smile bashfully. “A shirley temple, please.”

He pays for your drink and the bartender whips it up in no time. “I thought I was supposed to be buying your drinks tonight.”

“You bought me 10 shots, then 2 bottles of sake; I won’t take offense. And, this non alcoholic garbage is cheap.”

“It is not garbage.”

“Fine, it’s just a kid’s drink.”

“It’s not for kids! It’s virgin.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, then mumbles under his breath. “Bet you’d know a lot about that.”

You shove his shoulder with a scandalized gasp. “Zoro!”

He laughs once more, loud and bright and so full of joy that you can’t help but giggle along with him.

[sadvid]

camp camp makes me insane ramble. do not click more unless you are so so very insane

camp camp is gonna make me go fucking insane i can't fucking do this anymore there is NOTHING!!!!!! NOTHING!!!! ALL THEY DID WAS GIVE US TINY PISS DRRROPLETS WITH ONE EPISODE FINALE SAYING MAXS PARENTS DONT CARE AND DAVID SAYING YOU DONT DESERVE THAT AND NOW IVE BEEN IN THE TRENCHES FOR YEAAAARSSS. i have read fics with over 100k words i have drawn so many things and imagined so many scenarios with angst and hurt/comfort and stupid stupid thoughts that would never ever happen in the show in a million years HIS ASS IS NOT GETTING ADOPTED DADVID IS NOT REAL GWENVID IS A SICK JOKE i love them so much you don't understand. i forgot to take my meds. oh my goddddd. THERE ARE LIKE THREE CAMP CAMP FANS LEFT BECAUSE THE REST WERE NORMAL PEOPLE WHO JUST WATCH THE SILLY CAMP CARTOON THAT SAYS FUCK. they dont wonder about the possibilities of a sad ten year old rejecting happiness but slowly allowing himself to be vulnerable and loved by a counselor who is surrounded by hate and despondency but stays positive despite despite despite because nobody else will and he wants to be the source of happiness that he wish someone was for him. NO! they say HAHA the ten year old said fuck! oh my god the non swearing counselor said fuck too that's so profound! oh no the ten year olds parents bad :( HAHA NOW HES BALD!!!! and after a month of the show being gone they LEAVE because they're NORNAL!!!!! but i. I AM IN THE TRENCHESSSSS. you have no idea you have no idea. listen maybe i'm just a little insane because i am a max who needs a david JUST MAYBE! and i think this is just a lot of me projecting my desperate need for love and my simultaneous rejection and fear of it onto max. And my need for someone to keep persistently and loudly loving me no matter how much i reject it. PROBABLY!!!!! i don't care i don't care how fucking insane i sound I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY I COULD talk about this show for hours i wish i didn't have job or school or life so i could write and anímate camp camp season 6 7 8 9 10 infinity and kill the warner brothers and write 500k word ao3 fics. IM INSANE. i am picking up crumbs and calling it a wedding cake do you understand. god i'm i i i i i i i i it's 2024 it's been too long too many years of this.... too many got damned years. every time i pick up a pencil i draw max camp camp. i have drawn david's stupid fucking face so many times its probably become the shape of my brain wrinkles. i go feral thinking about gwen's hair looks like down or what the fuck these characters last names are. Can you fucking believe i hyper fixated on a character whose last name i dont even know. hey who's that small angry fucker you're always doodling. uhh max. max who. max... camp camp. WHO?!!! DAVID?!!? DAVID ATTENBOROUGH?!?! MAX CAULFIELD?! i'm going to set myself on fire. i really truly am. i love them i live for nothing but a ghost child on an island and a silly friend trio. when will it end. when. i love them if you couldn't tell

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(FE: Engage) Ivy, Chloe, and Alear with an Isekai'd S/O

fsteak fskewers

Ivy was shocked upon meeting S/O for the first time. Sure, the Emblems were from other worlds but they were kind of like ghosts who could only help during fighting.

S/O on the other hand was perfectly able to interact with the world, but seemed to have no idea what anything was. And the reverse was also true.

Whatever strange devices they held and their choice of clothing was completely alien.

She ended up falling in love with them due to the way they treated her, completely normal, and without any kind of prejudice.

Whenever they spoke of their home, it made her so intrigued about them. Perhaps once this war was over, she'd maybe be able to visit them.

(Ivy) "This is a...f-fhon? It's like a tiny mirror. W-What was that flash?! How are we on your fhon now?!"

Chloé understood that S/O wasn't from her world, considering the device they held in their hands, alongside the clothing.

But what was a dead giveaway was their lack of culinary knowledge! Chloé would do her job to rectify that issue.

And even if S/O wasn't that great of a cook themselves, she'd hear of dishes never conceived in her world, and she's willing to try anything once.

No matter the world, one thing remained true. The fastest way to a woman's heart was her stomach. And after many shared meals together, Chloé began to fall for S/O.

Every dinner together was a reminder of why she was fighting to begin with.

Hopefully when peace finally reigns across the lands, she'd be permitted to eat more dishes from S/O's world!

(Chloé) "So, there is something I am confused by after watching those moving pictures on your phone. What exactly is a 'corn smut'?"

Considering Marth was one of Alear's closest friends, she had no trouble believing S/O was from another world.

What's strange to her however, was the fact they were from a world she had never heard before. The other Emblems were at least from tales she had read in her off time.

But no matter, Alear wanted to know them more, and she'd be happy to tell them about her world too! Well, with what little she knew about it anyway.

They'd both be learning about it together, hand in hand.

Admittedly, it doesn't take Alear long to fall for S/O.

No for anything related to their world or hers, but solely their personality.

Come what may, she swears to protect everyone and bring S/O home safely!

(Alear) "Interesting. So your device can call upon people from great distances? Is it possible we can borrow it to see if we can't recreate it with magic?"

[drabbles-of-writing]

Pretending Not to See Your Ghost

AO3

Chapters: 2, 3

Summary: Darius has begun to notice a few...𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 between Hunter and his old mentor. From appearance, to speech, to the smallest of characteristics, he always swears he'll blink, and his mentor will be standing right where Hunter once was, as though nothing had ever changed.

But he's sure it's only a coincidence.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Got that all out of your system yet?”

Darius let out a long, loud hiss.

“Taking that as a no, then.”

“Would you just be quiet?” He snapped, not even bothering to spare a glance back. It wasn’t worthy of a glare, even if the sight of the carnage in front of him made his chest twist. 

It was only a tiny piece of the Night Market. No one would care for all the shops that lay in ruin, the potions strewn about, the spilled seeds of old plants. They weren’t worth the ugly gnarl in his gut. They weren’t worth the guilt. They were made by criminals, after all.

Criminals who lay in bindings, just against the nearby building. He suspected they wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

“Afraid not.” Said the jackass, yet again. “You don’t pay me to be quiet. Well, not that I’m really paid to begin with, but…hm, no, let me rephrase that. You didn’t hire me to be—”

“Let me rephrase,” Darius grit his teeth, clenching his hands up into tighter fists, shoulders hunching, “I am telling you to be silent.”

“I also can’t abide by that.” He continued anyway, voice entirely calm, entirely careless, and Darius could already see the strands of scattered abomination goop inching across the floor. Crawling out from cracks, reaching up towards his fists. “I don’t take orders from you. And even if I did, do you really think I’d listen? I mean, barring everything else, even you can’t seem to listen to orders, which is not a very good example to set. Believe me, I speak from experience.” He said, and it was a damn taunt, that’s what it was, and suddenly Darius didn’t care so much about his fear of witches coming to investigate the disaster around them. “Why, I have this apprentice who I think saw me skimp out on a few orders, maybe even ignore a few. Now, he’s running around thinking he can do whatever he wants, and that’s not very beneficial for—”

“Just shut up!” Darius snarled, curling in his throat and hurting with the force, from the amount of shouting he’d done before now, whirling, blinding hot fury making his skin hot and movements jerk. There was a wall of purple and black, a roar created from the goo at his fingertips, unyielding and—

A blip, the smallest kind. A blur of reddish magic, an abomination crashing down right where a body had been, moments before. The ground caved in where the witch had been moments before, abomination howling.

Darius saw the blur at the edge of his vision. Much too close, the flutter of a white cape in the wind, just behind his back.

Darius spun, fangs bared in a blinded growl, feeling the encasing of an abomination around his fist, and, partially on impulse, partially just to feel something break, swung as hard as he could.

It didn’t connect with the mask facing him. No, instead, it stepped aside, easily missing where Darius’s fist would have connected. In its place, a staff rose, knocking gently against the side of Darius’s wrist, some mock at a parry.

Under normal circumstances, Darius would have found the lack of a quip slightly alarming. Now, though, he just hissed, much more spitting-like than usual, abomination curling around his other fist, swinging just as wildly.

Again, another step to the side, staff moving away. It twirled in one hand, drawing down before the end of it shot up, catching Darius’s wrist between the two sharp spikes at the end, clinging tight.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Darius barked, yanking back with all his might and trying to wildly punch with his other hand, which didn’t much work, seeing as he had to try and punch over his caught arm, his adversary apparently making sure his wrist was stuck tight. “I don’t want yo–your stupid jokes or-or a bloody I told you so!”

The staff raised higher, jerking Darius forward with it. He stumbled, coming closer, more face-to-face with that golden mask. It stared impassively back at him, the owner keeping his arm high above as he looked down.

“Alright, then.” Said the Golden Guard, casual as can be. “I won’t.”

He knew what was expected of him here, held in a state of tense silence. He knew how it had gone, all those other times, when a stern look was leveled his way, when he’d made one too many mistakes. A harsh flick of the wrist, a tightening grip on a staff. 

He never knew what would’ve happened if he didn’t stop. He just knew that, on instinct, he’d always halted whatever he’d been doing. Any and all abominations fell to the ground and out of sight, put away before he could find out just what the punishment would be.

The Golden Guard was not someone you tested the odds with. Darius had never been stupid enough to try. He knew he’d lose.

That was the Darius from back then, though, who knew much less, and who was even less furious. That was the Darius who had a healthy dose of fear for the Golden Guard.

He hadn’t feared the Golden Guard in a long while. Not by a healthy amount, at least.

So, Darius swallowed, then forced his eyes away from where he was staring at his caught wrist. He shifted it to the mask staring straight at him, forcing everything into his glare, into his fists curling tighter, tiny spikes pricking up along the knuckles.

He lifted his head, just a little bit. A challenge.

A stupid challenge, really. One he’d regret, he was sure, but that was a problem for future Darius.

If there'd be a Darius in the future, that is. 

The Golden Guard held his gaze. Silent, and unmoving, save for the tiniest twitch of an ear that disturbed his hood, the only giveaway to how many thoughts were in that head of his.

Then, one hand left his staff. That hand raised, high above, and Darius watched. He looked up, saw it stop, knew when it’d come down. Only then, did he shut his eyes, shoulders hunching, and—

The hand lightly tapped over his head.

Darius blinked.

The Golden Guard snorted. 

“You’re pretty damn impressive, kid.” He said, and Darius jerked his head up, looking at the hand placed at an angle over his head, not even ruffling his hair. “I take it that’s what you’d rather hear, yeah?”

Darius kept staring. The Golden Guard stared back.

“...what?” Darius got out.

“Hmm, yeah, I worded that wrong.” The Golden Guard hummed, head tilting slightly. “I mean, you are impressive, regardless of if you wanna hear it? Does that work? I dunno, but I’m not telling you that you’ve got ‘spunk’ or something.” He huffed, arm slowly falling back down to his side. “I’m not fifty-five.”

“What.” Darius repeated, for lack of anything else to say.

“Integrity, I think? That sounds like the right word here.” The Golden Guard tried to clarify, drawing his staff down, looking from Darius’s fist, then to his face. “Am I gonna get my lights knocked out?”

Slowly, very slowly, Darius shook his head.

“Wonderful,” The Golden Guard said cheerfully, snagging Darius’s sleeve, “hold still.”

With that, the Golden Guard yanked his staff away.

“Hey!” Darius yelped, feeling a spike of pain all through his wrist, coming to the realization he had gotten truly stuck in the spikes—and maybe it was a mix of the yanking, or Darius leaping back with all his might—but his wrist managed to pop free with another harsh twist.

“There we go!” The Golden Guard chirped, turning his staff over and inspecting it as Darius stumbled back, cradling his wrist. “Like nothing ever happened. Now then,” He said, still cheerful, spinning right on his heel, “we have your mess to pick up after. Which is a rather impressive mess.” He continued, oblivious to Darius’s wide eyes. “I think I’ll take credit for teaching you that—”

“Is that it?” Darius wound up blurting, and the Golden Guard paused.

It was a tense one, for just a moment, and Darius was stiffening up before the Golden Guard turned around, head tilting, body as lax as ever.

“Well, I’m gonna have to put you on errand-boy missions, if even that, for the next, oh, month or so.” He said, calm as ever. “But I’m happy to say that I’m pretty terrible at going through with normal punishments in this Coven. This kind of scolding will suffice, right?”

“I…” Darius stared, blinking slowly. “Jasper, you can’t be serious.”

“Well, you said you didn’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’” The Golden Guard shrugged, head tilting down slightly, enunciating where his eyes had fallen, and Darius glanced to see abominations were still around his fists. “And getting into a fistfight with my apprentice is typically poor form. So, I’ll go out on a limb here and say you weren’t being stupid on purpose.”

“It was a thought-out plan.” Darius grumbled, though he did slowly force away the goop. “And it was going just fine until you got here.”

“Mmm, sure it was.” The Golden Guard hummed, head slowly turning to take in the mess around them. “Fantastic, even. No, of course, we had to disobey orders for this. A very worthwhile endeavor, I must say—”

“This is a very basic drug-runner mission!” Darius snapped, gesturing with a hand to the tied up witches. “Something I can more than handle.”

“Like you did today.”

“It was working until you showed up like you always do!” Darius hissed, ears flattening back. “I was doing just fine in this Coven on my own, you know. I was picked from the best.” He took a step forward, glaring up at an uncaring mask. “I’m not a damn scout. I’m more than equipped for a proper mission, which I could show you, if you would quit running off!”

The Golden Guard stared down at him impassively. Darius had the urge to shrink back, like he always did. Instead, he forced his glare into something meaner, lip twitching over a fang.

Then, another snort. Darius almost barked a retort before the Golden Guard looked around, checking the perimeter. At nothing appearing in his line of sight, he lifted his hands to the bottom of his mask.

He pushed it up, and Darius saw a smiling, scarred face. One day, it’d look even worse than it already was. Right now, though, Darius still thought it was concerning just how many scars the boy had. He wasn’t that much older than him.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Jasper puffed, though there was a teasing edge to it. 

Darius stared, blinked a few times. His glare lessened, and he took a small step back.

“I’m better than this.” Darius forced himself to say, glancing out to the wreckage. “Well—better than sitting out missions all the time.” He insisted.

“Yeah,” Jasper also looked around, “yeah, alright, I see your point.”

Darius straightened, and Jasper’s grin just widened, exposing each and every tooth. They were just a bit too crooked, and if you squinted, his left canine looked just a bit longer than his right.

“Don’t go getting a big head,” Jasper warned right after, eyes sliding to the side, and Darius was always just a little unnerved by them. They didn’t look like a witch’s, not quite a demon’s, and he’d never seen anyone with that unnatural shade of magenta, “but…hey, you sure made your opinion loud and clear.” He chuckled, ears twitching down slightly. “I swear, kid, one of these days, I’m not gonna know what the hell I’m supposed to do with you.”

It came off as a joke. And Darius puffed, very slightly, at his words. Jasper’s smile stayed, and he wanted to believe it as a tease. He wanted to, but it looked just a little too…soft. He dared call it genuine.

The Golden Guard wasn’t genuine. When was that ever even a possibility?

But Jasper was…he was listening. That was a first, and it was one Darius took. Perhaps he got a little giddier than he should’ve been, that Jasper was looking at him, not over his head, but he thinks he more than deserved it.

“My,” Darius said, because he wasn’t sure what to do there, but he had to say something, “is the great Golden Guard admitting he was wrong?”

“You see what I mean about the big head?” Jasper scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning away, and Darius did snigger then, something that was almost a smile forming. “Honestly, I can't say one nice thing about people in this Coven, it makes them puff up like blimps.” He complained, sliding his mask back down.

“You’re part of this Coven.” Darius reminded, flexing his fingers to alleviate the shaking.

“Oh, hush,” Jasper grumbled, turning halfway, towards Darius stepping closer. He made a point to shoulder Darius’s side, nearly sending him toppling to the ground. The friendly gesture had him staring like a spooked rabbit, though Jasper hardly reacted, “you’re impressive for an apprentice. Remember that.”

“...course,” Darius cracked a real smile, then, finding he didn’t mind all that much, “of course, sir. Wouldn’t dream of thinking otherwise.”

“Eugh!” Jasper winced back, dramatic, making a gagging sound that had Darius fully giggling. “Kid, I told you about the ‘sir’ thing, never say that again—”

“Then don’t call me kid!” Darius huffed back, ears twitching, unable to hide his smile continuing to grow. “I’m barely younger than you.”

“You’re scarcely fifteen. It’s young enough.” Jasper waved his hand, turning away. “Tell you what, I stop calling you kid, and you don’t call me sir ever again. Sound fair?”

“Deal.” Darius nodded, looking out to the remains of this corner of the Night Market. “Do I have to help clean this up?”

“I’m tempted to say yes.” Jasper said, before he held out his staff, twirling it. “But I don’t want to clean this up. So let's skedaddle before someone makes us, huh?”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” Darius scoffed, and Jasper tilted his head, just a bit, a glance of his mask over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jasper hummed, “guess I should work on that. But I’m sure you’ll make sure I don’t forget.”

“Never.” Darius grinned, a promise he barely had to think about.

And, despite the mask in the way, despite how Jasper didn’t so much as twitch, he had a feeling he was smiling back at him, too. 

 .

 Hunter flinched when Darius raised his hand.

That was the part that stuck in his mind. He didn’t let it seep into his features, managed to keep himself from even hesitating. He still followed through with his action, albeit much gentler than how it was originally, letting his hand gently fall over the boy’s head.

He grinned, then, at Hunter pausing, blinking up at him in surprise.

“I’m impressed.” He said, and he guessed it surprised himself as much as it surprised Hunter to know he was genuine.

Darius readily admitted he wasn’t much of a kid person. Too noisy and full of bad ideas for his liking. His patience only went so far, and so he never tried to put it in the same room as a child, let alone a teenager. There were many who’d be far better than him.

Hunter wasn’t exactly his proof of that, but…well, he’d been everything short of despising the kid from the moment he bore a mask he never once deserved.

Even then, he knew it was somewhat unfair. But it was so easy to sneer at the kid, to barely restrain a growl whenever he walked in, head up high, barking orders like he earned the right to so much as be in the same room as half the Emperor’s Coven.

He knew the kid wasn’t a slacker. But a nepotism hire was an easy way to erase any and all accomplishments done up till that point. He knew damn well that kid hadn’t done even close to enough to earn the title of the Golden Guard. 

So, he didn’t like Hunter. Not when he was fourteen and first wearing the mask, and it only slightly lessened as the years went on. Turned to a burr-like grievance rather than a bitter resentment at the audacity—

But here, this is where the kid impressed him. Because Hunter was many things. He was a loyal dog, he was a kiss-up, a tryhard, spoiled, and everything expected from the nephew of the Emperor. That is to say, in short; annoying.

He’d never call the kid a rebel. Not for anything, not towards his own uncle.

And yet, there was that palisman on his shoulder, and there were bruises all over Darius’s body where a staff had whacked him, and he knew that, if he went into the forest, he’d still find those Hexside students, saved by the very boy who put them in danger in the first place.

He supposed, then, that perhaps it wasn’t so out-there for Raine to find it unbelievable that he and Eberwolf were traitors. That they had been blindsided by the idea, when Darius himself was blindsided by a sixteen-year-old who couldn’t sew for the life of him.

Before his hand came down, resting over the kids head, he had one thought, and it made him twitch with something that was slightly bitter, something slightly wistful, and that was this: Jasper would’ve liked him.

Jasper had a soft spot for the rule-followers who could be changed. For the ones who were so uptight that came to unwind. Not for the ones who spit and kicked for their rebellion from the start, but the ones that had a slow change, the ones that always gave the strongest reactions to Jasper’s shenanigans. 

“Magic or not,” Darius said, and he tried not to let that old scar show in his expressions, “I think you’ll make your predecessors proud.”

This surprised him less, to know he was being honest. The rebellion part, that was easy. Jasper would’ve liked him for that alone. He always did, especially if that witch was, well, a massive pain in the ass. 

As a successor, that part was a little more complicated. He supposed Jasper would’ve been proud to see his rank was being filled with people who were still going behind the Emperor’s back. 

Hunter looked up at him, with, really, nothing short of shock. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, he supposed, something searching and flickering in his eyes, even as Darius tossed the old, raggedy cloak his way.

Hunter’s eyes were an odd shade of magenta, now that he was looking. Of all the witches to have Jasper’s rare eyes, of course it happened to be his successor.

It was another aching pang in Darius’s chest, but he smoothed it right back down. He’d had more than enough bittersweet reminders tonight, and now certainly wasn’t the time.

He had a Golden Guard to take home.

[mykneeshurt]

Don’t fear the Reaper part 1

I got excited and wrote part one haha. Female character, swearing and COD typical violence throughout this series. Female x oc

A night at the pub goes awry, Ghost offers a helping hand, though that’s not the only thing you notice that night.

Don’t fear the Reaper, a popular saying about the inevitability of death. However, you were feared amongst many. You’d been with 141 for a while now and earnt your call sign ‘Reaper’, due to your extremely violent tendencies. There was nothing you loved more than watching the life drain from a persons eyes. The warmth of their blood on your skin. In fact you revelled in it.

On base those who didn’t know you, but knew of you gave you a wide berth. They felt uneasy. And honestly? You loved it. You loved making people feel uneasy, on edge. You kept to yourself mostly, preferring to observe and listen to your surroundings. You’d often be found either at the gun range, or on the mats sparring with some sucker who clearly had a death wish.

Tonight, however you were sat on the roof, dangling your feet over the edge like a child. You watched as you exhaled smoke, the sweet high of nicotine coating your lungs. The night was clear, stars peering down over you like silent protectors. It was peaceful, just how you liked it. That was until your phone vibrated next to you, a little soap emoji popped up. Smirking you rolled your eyes, wee Johnny, your closet friend here. His text was simple. Pub. Not a question but a command.

Jumping down you stubbed out the cigarette under your black boots and made your way down the stairs. Sending a kissy face emoji back to him. You swung by your room to freshen up, change of top, a swipe of red lip balm and a squirt of Baccarat Rouge 540. You slid your phone back in your pocket and gave yourself a once over in the mirror.

‘Reaper!’ He shouted excitedly down the hall, his accent thick and gravelly. God you loved his accent, any Scottish accent to be honest. ‘Hey Johnny!’ You smiled back, bounding towards him full speed. You hopped on his back as he made his way off base, you two were thick as thieves. But purely platonic, he had a girl back home he was planning on asking to marry him. You kept annoying him by asking to be his best man, constantly.

The pub wasn’t too far away from the base, a small country side pub which was normally filled with locals. Locals you had a love hate relationship with. Gaz, Price and Ghost were already there waiting for the two of you. They were all squished in a tiny booth, which looked ludicrous. Two chairs were placed outside the booth, at the end of the table ready for you.

The pub was warm and cosy, a stone floor and wooden beams adorned the ceiling. Pale white walls and a huge open fire in the centre, crackling in the background. Perfection. Two pints were already waiting for you by the time you arrived. ‘There they are! Take your fuckin time, Christ!’ Gaz greeted with a roll of his eyes. ‘Who put 20p in you this evening?’ Soap retorted, taking his seat. You followed suit, pulling your chair into the table and taking a sip of the amber liquid of the Gods.

‘Looks like you needed that’ Price laughed from behind his beard. You nodded ‘thirsty work making men submit all day.’

‘Not making em quit already I hope?’ Price asked taking a swig of his drink. Smirking, you shrugged, ‘not yet anyway.’ It was a well known fact you put new recruits through their paces during drills, especially sparring and close combat training. So much so that a few had quit mere weeks after joining, something you were quite proud of in fact.

Conversation and drinks flowed well into the evening. You stumbled back from the jukebox and eagerly awaited your song choice. ‘Better not be shit, I know what you’re like’ Ghost quipped. You feigned offence, ‘now sir, since when have I ever played shit. I am a woman of good taste I’ll have you know.’ He rolled his eyes before a small crease became visible in the outer corner. Fucker was smiling under that mask. You often wondered what his mouth looked like.

True Faith by New Order came on over the speakers, you flashed a grin to Ghost who met your gaze with some surprise. ‘Well?’

‘Hmm, not bad, I’ll let you off.’

‘Not bad?!’ You shrieked laughing, ‘this is a staple, an absolute classic. Pffft. Not bad. I’m offended.’ You swigged the dregs of your pint before standing, ‘my round lads, same as before?’ They finished off their drinks and a flurry of please and thank yous rang out among them.

The pub was busy, but wasn’t overcrowded, it was a nice atmosphere, relaxed. Putting the tray of drinks on the table you handed them out one by one. Handing Ghost his short of Bourbon his fingertips grazed yours as you passed him the glass. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered you, except he seemed to flinch. Looking up his eyes were already on you, burning through your mere presence. As you caught his gaze he looked away, desperately looking else where. Weird.

Evening turned into night, round two turned into three, turned into five. You were all starting to feel the affects of the alcohol, feeling merry and buzzed. You stood outside smoking a cigarette, taking a few minutes for yourself. Enjoying your own company until a group of men walked past, one deciding to try his chances with you. ‘Alright love? Nice arse you got there.’ You eyed him up and down, ‘thanks. Bit out of your league though a ain’t I?’ He approached your further. ‘She got a mouth on her this one. I like em feisty. Come back with me I’ll show you a good time.’

‘It’s a no from me. Keep walking, there’s a good lad.’ You pointed to the direction of the village. ‘Wasn’t asking, was tellin yah. Seems that mouth of yours needs putting to work.’ He came closer still, rage now rising in your blood. ‘I wouldn’t’ you warned, anger coating the tip of your tongue. ‘Or what?’ He squared up to you, pushing your buttons for a reaction, mashing them all together. ‘Or I’ll punch you so hard you’ll be shitting teeth for a week. Now. Fuck off.’ You stepped up to him, face to face, seeing the rage overflow from him. Clearly he doesn’t know what no means.

With him not backing down you offered one final warning. ‘Last chance. Fuck off.’ Scoffing he spat in your face, ‘bitch.’ And that was that, you saw red. Reeling back you planted a very hard Glasgow kiss on his forehead. As he stumbled backwards you pushed him, he fell to the floor with a thud. His friends then started shouting obscenities at you. ‘Oh fuck off. I’ll floor you n all if you want?’ You knew Price would have you for this, again. But you didn’t care, why should they keep getting away with it.

Due to the commotion the boys appeared at the door, seeing the larger men come to your aid the others ran off. Hoisting their confused friend off the floor and throwing him over their shoulders. ‘Think you’ve have enough love. We all have, back to base’ Price ordered. ‘He fuckin started it!’

‘And I’m finishing it. Ghost have a word, Soaps in the loo. Gaz grab her purse please mate.’

Feeling like a child you marched ahead to the base, furious at being shut down like that. With only a few short strides Ghost caught up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. ‘You alright?’ Whipping round you looked up at him, seething, ‘do I look alright? I get harassed and yet I’m the bad guy? Fuckin Price. He can be a real arse sometimes.’

‘I know, but…’

‘But nothing. Do you know how exhausting it is to be harassed and still be made out to be the bad guy. That it feels like I should just sit back and take it? Fuck no. And fuck you if you think that.’

‘I don’t think that. None of us do.’

‘He fucking spat at me. Pity I couldn’t cave his fucking head in.’

‘He spat at you?! Lemme see.’

In your heightened state you’d completely forgot to even wipe it off your face. A string of saliva hung from your hairline to your cheek. Ghost cupped your jaw with one had and wiped away the offensive substance with the other. He’s patched you up before, but never touched you, like this. Gentle. Caring. You felt the flutter of a butterfly’s wing in your stomach, a pin prick of heat rose to your cheeks. ‘Thanks, sir’ you murmured softly.

‘Oi!’ A familiar voice boomed. Soap came running up to you, hands fumbling over you making sure you were ok. ‘Price told me what happened. Heard you head-butted the wanker. Gutted i didnae see it.’ You ruffled his hair, ‘well I can head-butt you? Then you’d know what it felt like.’

‘Fuck off Reaper. Come on’ he motioned for you to jump up for a piggyback, ‘let’s get you back before you assault anyone else.’

You jumped up onto his back and secured you legs round his waist. Turning back you saw Ghost was still watching you, nodding you offered a silent thank you. His touch still biting at your face.

____________

A/N hit me up if you wanna be on the tag list chief.

@sashadiurnal @iamnotyourmusebitch (thank you for fuelling me with reaper inspiration)

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching It’s a Terrible Life

Welcome to “Sam and Dean are Just Steps on the Bossman’s Ladder: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s4e17: It’s a Terrible Life

Dean Smith works a middle-management white-collar job at Sandover Bridge and Iron, and Sam Wesson is a grunt in the IT department there. Sam thinks something about this life is wrong, and when he runs into Dean he could swear they’ve met before. But Dean brushes him off until employees start dying real weird in the company. When Dean witnesses an IT tech stab himself in the throat during a panic attack over filling out a form incorrectly, he accepts that Sam might be on to something. The two work together to research the company and the deaths, eventually realizing the ghost of the company’s founder is compelling workers to kill themselves if they don’t give Sandover their all. Smith and Wesson dispatch the ghost (after finding some helpful tips online from the Ghostfacers), and eventually Dean’s boss reveals that he is actually Zachariah, an angel who arranged this little interlude for Dean to help him remember that he is and always will be a hunter at heart. Dean doesn’t take kindly to this interference from the angels and promises that one day he’ll stab Zachariah in his face.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

Lor: bounces I love this one

Mace: 

it is a good one

he looks so ridiculous in that shirt and tie

Lor:

and I love that this show is like "ep 16: torture, hero almost killed by a demon who tortured him in hell for 30 years. ep 17: alternate universe shenanigans"

mmm. someone should maybe take him out of them

Mace: 

they like to mess with us

Lor:

yep

Mace: 

LOR.

Lor:

wot?

innocent

Mace: 

simmer down

Lor:

NEVER

Mace: 

omg this guy plays such a hilarious weirdo on Psych

Lor:

Zachariah?

Mace: 

yeah

Lor:

omg Dean Smith. you do not need to lose any weight. eat a cookie

kill a ghost

Mace: 

HA

Lor:

LOL Sam's face

Mace: 

SAM IN THAT POLO

Lor:

YES

even Dean Smith makes "no homo" jokes when no one else brought that up pets him go to therapy, baby

Mace: 

it’s crazy to me that Sam is uncomfortable in this fake life but Dean suspects nothing

YEP

Lor:

DID YOU TRY TURNING IT OFF AND THEN ON

yeah it is WEIRD

Mace: 

HAHAHA

Lor:

but it fits with his "I can fit in anywhere thing"

Mace: 

hm. I wonder if it’s more “I’m so unhappy in the life my daddy forced me into” thing

Lor:

oh definitely

Mace: 

my god he FITS in that shirt

Lor:

YAAAS

he should really stop being work buddies with this asshole

Mace: 

(omg I am seriously wearing almost EXACTLY that other dude’s outfit right now)

Lor:

HAAAAHAHAHAHA I LOVE IT

poor Sam doesn't fit in his cubicle

Mace: 

graphic t with ratty flannel over

Lor:

it is the BEST outfit

Mace: 

oh Sammy, sweets, I’ll nap with you

Lor:

MACE

simmer down

Mace: 

I love how he does NOT fit into that cubicle

Lor:

YES

Mace: 

Dean’s profile. just DAMN, son

Lor:

YAAAAAS

they made him extra pretty this ep and I love that they bothered

Mace: 

he cleans up super nice

Lor:

Dean, you know you have some vampire romance novels under your perfectly made bed

Mace: 

SNORK

“you overshare”

HAHAHA

Lor:

the tiny montages of the workplace mundanities

Mace: 

YEP

“I hope they spank me” this boy is naughty

Lor:

LOL

look, we've all been where he is. no evil ghost needed

Mace: 

HA

Lor:

EW

Mace: 

oh GROSS

SHOULDERS

Lor:

YAS

omg Dean's pretty pretty face. his LIPS

Mace: 

RIGHT?!

Lor:

omg Sam and Dean are both researching it and asking the same questions on their own. i love it

Mace: 

YES

“did you shave?!”

Lor:

lol

"the dash-Rs"

Mace: 

“hey, guy”

Lor:

omg his back in those suspenders

Mace: 

right?

omg EW

Lor:

RIGHT?

i always forget this one has some serious ew horror moments

poor Dean so shook

Mace: 

but not as shook as a normal person, which is kind of awesome

Lor:

the way his voice kinda fails on "neck"

YES

I love the way he just totally took charge with Ian (even though it didn't work)

Mace: 

why did he bring his bag?

yeah

Lor:

security laptop. it makes him feel safe

Mace: 

emotional support laptop

Lor:

YES

"NOT NATURAL"

Mace: 

HA

Lor:

"no that would be nuts" HAAAAAHHAHAHAHA poking fun at their own show history

Mace: 

SNORK

Lor:

"some skills I happen to have"

Mace: 

okay settle down, Taken

Lor:

I admire from afar

Mace: 

Dean’s arms in that shirt

Lor:

HEY. SETTLE DOWN

Mace: 

“right?!” BOYS

Lor:

"I am dying to check this out." "Right?" YES

Mace: 

SNORK! Look, I’m always like this. It’s weirder when you do it

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Fair enough

Mace: 

your desire to trot at any given moment is, like, lukewarm

Lor:

at best

Mace: 

which is, of course, completely cool - PUN INTENDED - I’m just saying that when you bump it up to hot-trotting, it’s just different

Lor:

LOLOLOL

I get it

Mace: 

whereas my trotting enthusiasm always runs at toasty, minimum

Lor:

except for the GIANT BOWL OF APPLES

eat a food, Dean, I beg you

Mace: 

HAHAHA

Lor:

LOL toasty trots

DON'T BE A SNOB DEAN SMITH

Mace: 

right?!

(also, their NAMES)

Lor:

your daddy raised you better'n that

Mace: 

did he, though?

I think you mean Bobby raised him better

Lor:

(YES I am kissing whoever decided to give them OTHER gun names platonically on the head)

Mace: 

(HA)

Lor:

Bobby is his dad in the universe, that's what I meant

Mace: 

omgomgomg

Lor:

HAAAAHAHAHAHA GHOSTFACERS

"instructional videos"

Mace: 

GHOSTFACERS

I forgot they were in here!

Lor:

THIS IS LIKE THE BEST JOKE that they learn how from them who they hate who learned it from them

I LOVE IT kicks feet in glee

Mace: 

YESYESYES

Lor:

nrrrrrf Dean's dumb buttondown tucked into his dumb dress slacks

Mace: 

YES

“yeah now sucks"

Lor:

his portfolio is in the sewer. poor rich baby

Mace: 

HA

Lor:

"useless douchebags the Winchesters"

"possibly all states"

Mace: 

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

and Dean's face at the idea of digging up bodies

Mace: 

YES

omg Dean hiding

Lor:

YES

oh man another super gross bit coming

Mace: 

UGH

“…what?” SAM

Lor:

YES

eeeeeeeeew

Mace: 

EWEWEWEW

poor Bean

Lor:

poor sammy

"take the stairs"

Mace: 

HAHAHA

Lor:

aw Dean's little swallow

Mace: 

YES

Lor:

"I have no idea"

Mace: 

oh boys

Lor:

hey! stop throwing my Dean around into things!

ooo the teamwork

Mace: 

YES

Lor:

I love that Sam immediately clocks that the way to help Dean is not to help him but to dispatch the ghost

Mace: 

YES

so smart

“that was amazing!”

Lor:

HE HAS A FIRST AID KIT IN HIS OFFICE

pets him

Mace: 

yeah

“how would we live?”

HEALTH INSURANCE

Lor:

"you don't wanna go fighting ghosts without any health insurance" I LOVE HIM

YES

Mace: 

I LOVE that Sam instinctively knows who he is

HE WENT TO STANFORD

Lor:

YES

RIGHT?!

And his family is Bobby, Ellen, and Jo

Mace: 

well, Bobby at least

“you don’t know me, pal” ooof

Lor:

"you should go" sigh

YAS SAM

Mace: 

YAS SAMMY DO IT

Lor:

GOD HIS ARMS

Mace: 

YES

he BENT the poker MY GOD

Lor:

YES

Dean, hold out for your own angel

Mace: 

HA

Lor:

gross

Mace: 

yeah

Lor:

THE WAY THE COLOR DROPS OUT

Mace: 

OMG YES

Lor:

"my GOD am I hungry"

Mace: 

HAHAHA YES

Lor:

trots in with a bag of cheeseburgers and fries and pie

Mace: 

HA

Lor:

"gross. no thank you"

Mace: 

“gross” HAHAHAHA

Lor:

lololol Dean

ass clowns in monkey suits

Mace: 

how did they not realize how he would respond to this?

Lor:

his idiolect! I cannot

RIGHT?

Cas coulda told them. No way they ran this by him

Mace: 

nope

daddy issues

he’s not wrong there

Lor:

"I will stab you in your face" AND HE DOES

Mace: 

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

his face journey after "fornicate with women" is something else

look, Dean, I'm here to tell you you can hunt and still have the lattes

Mace: 

HAHAHA YES

and fuck all of them for doing all this to Sammy too but not bothering to explain

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace: 

and HE’S THE ONE WHO ACTUALLY PASSED THE STUPID TEST

Lor:

like Sam goes from "my brother is beat to hell in a hospital bed" to being mind fucked and then no one bothers to tell him what's up

RIGHT?

Mace: 

so mean. he needs comforting.

Lor:

I think we've talked before about how if they'd given Dean a life HE MIGHT ACTUALLY HAVE HAD, like running his own auto shop, restoring cars, with either Cassie or Cas, he would have STAYED THERE FOREVER

Mace: 

YEP

[kanene-yaaay]

MORE RANDOM OMORI TICKLE HEADCANONS

Because why not am I right ahcwfvwjbej.

During all of this I am waving at the Canon and smiling and looking away while it shouts at me.

So, just like Sunny kind of "follows" Omori during his adventures in the dreamspace, Omori is also able to follow Sunny in real life. Never did before because honestly, Sunny's life didn't have a lot of excited stuff, but now that he is again friends w Aubrey, Hero, Kel and Basil a lot of interesting stuff tends to happen

Sometimes the rest of the Gang can catch glimpses of Omori, a little bit like a ghost-y thing, but it's never for too long (even tho Omori COULD become visible for some time if he really wanted too)

And at this point, Sunny is already used to the gremlin Mini-version of himself that follows him around and keeps trying to get him to point a knife at people when they get in his way

So, technically, he should be used to the white and black boi trying to make HIM get tickled but it's DIFFICULT. Because it happens OUT OF NOWHERE

A few times, he can discover the reason, like when Omori gets tickled on the mindespace and - being the gremlin he is - refuses to be the only one to become a mess of smiles and giggles.

Other times Omori will simply wait for those calm and quiet moments when Sunny is with his friends to claw his fingers close and closer to his tickle spots, getting his fingers to almost touch the target before changing to another spot and repeat the cycle, showing him tiny smirks everytime he gets Sunny to squirm or snort with a fake sudden tickle attack or a quiet "tickle tickle tickle..." tease

More often than not, just the picture of Sunny blushing, smiling and wiggling around for apparently no reason is already enough to get Kel or Aubrey to ask what is the deal with a playful shine on their eyes because few things in life are cuter than a Giddy Sunny. And since Sunny refuses to say what is happening, his friends have no other option than try to get a giggly answer out of him, really.

Rip our dear bean

When, for some reason, the plan of GET Sunny Blushy and Smiley doesn't work, Omori will appear behind Sunny when he is distracted and wave to get Hero's or Basil's attention and then wiggle his fingers and point to Sunny, repeating the gesture until his point gets across and an recognition shines on their expressions

Rip our dear bean²

(Omori will also try to do that when Sunny is feeling down for some reason and fish a few cheer up tickles for him but shhhhh no telling anyone)

I have no idea what are the gang's first reactions to Omori are, but nowadays, it's a normal occurrence for him to randomly appear, so they are v chill about it

Also on a totally random note, Omori holds a grudge/respect for Kel because on those days that Sunny was reconciling w everyone and the lines between who was Sunny and who was Omori was blurry Kel had the nerve to take his knife from his hands so out of nowhere Omori will glare at him, poke da boi and disappear. Sometimes, Kel swears that he can hear a faint "Give me my knife, Kel"

[shebeafancyflapjack]

The Next Layer

(A fic requested by @idiotwithanipad . Hope it's okay, I've been lacking in creative energy this week).

They'd been playing. Hide and Seek, of course, Kitty's favourite. It had been Amy's turn to Seek, though she was usually better at Hiding. Sometimes too much. There were days when, not feeling in the mood to socialise but not wanting to disappoint her friends, she agreed to play only to find a moment to hide away good enough so that they'd never find her. At least, not until they gave up and asked either Robin or Humphrey's body to "hunt" for her.

Today had ironically been a day when her spirit had been rather high, almost to the point where it matched the level of the bubbly Georgian and the permastoned Pagan. A day where she'd wanted to play, to laugh, to lay in the sun and laugh about the "grown ups" as if they were all much younger than nineteen to early twenties, before running about and indulging in schoolyard games in the house, before they planned to sit on the roof all night and chat until Silver's eyes would begin to droop for her month-long slumber.

She didn't make it that far. Never would again. Had she known that the last month the three girls had sat on that roof together would be the last time....

When she opens her eyes, she knows the sky is not that of the one that blankets over Button House, or anywhere on Earth. It's colors are serene, gentle hues of soft violet and sapphire and turquoise. The sun shines bright but not to the point of annoying or blinding. She doesn't squint. Just like the moon, she realises she can stare into the centre of this sun as long as she wishes. What surrounds the sun are both clouds and stars and nebulas and comets. She remembers once visiting the Planetarium in Londond on a school trip. This makes it seem like a public bathroom floor.

"Fuck! Silv, are you seeing this?" Is the first thing she asks. At the reply of silence, she sits up.

Long, soft grass that flows like waves of water with the warm breeze cushions her. The emerald field stretches for miles as she sits atop a hill, spotting a lake on the horizon and mountains glistening as if topped with diamonds. Maybe they are.

Where the fuck is she?

"Silver? Kitty?" She calls out, heart pounding as she realises she's alone; "HUMPHREY? ROBIN?!"

It must be a dream. Maybe she passed out and Silver touched her with her ghost power to give her some funky dream. It wouldn't be the first time. Except Silver never did so without her permission, and the types of dreams Amy had were nothing like this.

No water park where the liquid is Manco Loco. No ICP concert. Not the park with her friend Shan. Not her and Humphrey - a whole and modern dressed Humphrey - sat watching a movie and eating popcorn like a normal father and daughter.

This place is beautiful. Gorgeous. But it's not somewhere she would wish to be. Not alone.

"ANYONE?! IS ANYONE THERE? GUYS!" She calls out so loud, her voice echoing towards the mountings; "I SWEAR WHOEVER HAS TAKEN ME HERE, I'M GONNA RIP THEIR BALLS OFF AND STICK THEM DOWN THEIR THROATS!"

"Oooh, 'ark at her! Had I offspring I swear she be mine own kin." Chuckles a female voice.

Amy turns in the direction as the wind carries a swirl of tiny orange lights that merge together to form a figure. A slender, older woman not much taller than her. Puritan clothes. A thin set of lips with eyes alight with humor.

The teen steps back.

"Where am I? Who are you? Where are my friends and what's going on?!" She demands.

"There there, child. One question at a time. Wes all been where you are and know it can be scary." The woman says, raising her hand.

"Wh...what can be scary?"

Her mouth has gone dry. There's a part of her already that suspects the answer but she's afraid to believe it.

"The suckings off."

A new voice. Amy blinks as another set of floating sparks form a taller woman next to the Puritan. Before they have even finished solidifying, Amy knows who this one is, having looked at the sketch of her beside her friend's bed many times.

As good as Alison's drawing is, it doesn't do justice to the sweet softness and kind smile on the woman's face as she gazes fondly at Amy.

"Are you....Mary?"

The woman nods, wearing the same peasant dress, but there didn't seem to be any sign of soot or smoke or the scent of toast that everyone had always said was part of her. Even her hair, though tucked partly beneath a simple bonnet, seems smoother and tidier, not the slightest singe.

"That I be. And I knows who you is. Amy, daughter of Humphrey Bone." She says with a cheeky grin.

"We have a little Lady in our midst, Mary!" Her companion teases, nudging her slightly.

Amy sets her jaw. She doesn't like being made fun of at the best of times but right know she's far from the mood for jokes.

"I ain't no fucking lady."

"Don't mind Annie, love, she don't mean nothin' by it." Mary placates before the two of them can clash; "Head bit was always so lonely, I is glad he got to have a child of his own."

"How the hell do you know about me and Humphrey? Is that what you all do in this place, spy on us?!"

Annie shrugs; "Sometimes."

Mary gives her a warning slap to the wrist and a sharp glare.

"T'is not you I watch, child. I look in on my little'en when I can and most often than not in recent times, yous been at her side." Mary explains.

Little'en. "You mean Silver?"

Another nod.

"When I first got my suckings off and arrived here, at first I be overjoyed, in most part to be reunited with my beloved." Mary reaches to take the Puritan's hand. Annie gives a coy smile and squeezes it.

Amy understands now. She remembers Silver and Robin talking about Mary's "wife" who they hoped she was back with.

Shit. They're gonna be so happy to learn...

She watches as Mary's eyes turn sad; "But my heart did begins to crumble when I realised I has left my girl behind. She hads become the daughter I lost, as if returned to me like Lazerus, and now I was parted from her. I woulds have gladly taken being blown back just to return to her...."

The look on her face as she meets Amy's eyes makes the teen want to scream. The truth stabs deep at her chest.

"....No....No." She shakes her head, tears forming.

"Amy-."

"I don't want it! Not now, not when I've finally started to enjoy it. Fuck, I've even started having some civil conversations with Fanny and Cap! I was having fun with my friends, I...I had a dad! Have a dad! Fuck, no, I'm not losing that! No ones gonna take it from me!"

The beauty of the landscape around her now seems like a wide open prison. She would run, but she wouldn't have the slightest clue as to where she would go, or what direction. There are no roads, no doors, not even a bulding in sight.

Nothing but....space. Fields, mountains, water and the surreal sky.

"Who is in charge? Is there some sort of God or....fuck, who was it Silver worshipped, Percy-fee, the Goddess of the Dead?!"

Annie covers her mouth this time to stifle her laugh; "Think you mean Persephone, Poppet."

"Don't call me that, only Da..." She bites her lip. More tears fall.

She'll never hear him call her that again.

A sob escapes her and she hugs herself, tighter than she ever would. Despite having just recovered from a flare up of HS, she expects the scar beneath her arm to be irritated. But there's nothing.

She frowns. She touches her joints. Her armpits.

"Your buboes be gone now." Mary explains; "They shan't arise again. There be no maladies of the flesh in this layer."

"Thank Jove, my throat used to itch like crazy with them bread crumbs back in the other place." Titters Annie.

No more HS? No more flare ups? No more itching and seeping and having to hide down with the Plaguers in the basement? The thought takes time to settle. It had been part of her since puberty. It was a silver lining and yet...

She would gladly suffer her skin to be covered with welts if it meant going back to Humphrey right now.

As she crumbles, Mary steps forward, her arms open. Amy let's them encircle her, now that physical touch won't cause her the pain it once did. For the first time in years she takes comfort in a motherly hug, and understands for a moment why Silver adored this woman so.

"There there, little'en. It not be so bad." Mary whispers, stroking her hair, "This place doth hold many wonders. Annie and I shall tutor thee on how to appreciate them."

"W-wonders?" She sniffles.

"Hmm. Like that funny helmet of yours. What purpose doth it serve?"

Amy pulls back from the hug; "My headphones? They...play music but...they're broken now."

"Are they?" Asks Annie.

The Puritan steps forward and taps them.

Amy nearly jumps with surprise as music, real music, the same that had been playing before she died, suddenly sounds through the speakers resting beside her ear. She gasps, thinking she'd never get to hear ICP again except for through the Bose speaker in Higham Suite when it was her turn to use it.

"Wha....How did you....?" She stares at Annie as if she were a witch.

Annie laughs; "That only be a glimpse of what be possible here, girl."

Mary squeezes Amy's wrist.

"Here we are not prisoners. Here we may go where we wish, when we wish, see splendors beyond even mine own imagination. We may eats, drinks, laughs and make merry as we please. You willst never be bored here, young one. And wes shall be with you, at least until there be others who hath been sucked off that ye wish to meet?"

Amy remembers her grandparents. Childhood pets. Are they all here somewhere? Waiting for her?

She gulps; "I just want....I just want to go home."

The words make her sound like a little girl. That's how she feels.

Mary's face swamps with sympathy as she pets her.

"I know, dear girl. I know. That be the price we pay for Heaven, Is afraid. To leave our loved ones behind and wait for thems to catch up."

That's all she can do? Wait?

"But....you said you'd looked in on Silver? That you saw me?" Amy asks.

Mary and Annie share a glance before Mary nods.

"That be the truth."

"How?" Demands Amy.

"There be a great waterfall, that be a mirror, that be a window to the old world." Mary explained; "T'is through there we each may watch our loved ones for a time."

"So like a magic webcam?" Amy simplifies; "Take me there."

"Child, it's advised that one not look at it for a time. That you should take a moment to get used to your new home." Advises Annie.

"Fuck that. This ain't my home. It won't be until Humphrey is here with me. And Silver and Robin and Kitty...." She says, clenching her fist; "Take me there. Now. Please."

Her voice breaks on the last word as she looks at Mary, who cannot resist the plea of a heartbroken child.

She takes Amy's hand in hers. Then the world swirls around them. Amy feels her body dissolve, nauseating at first and then strangely freeing for a few seconds, before it becomes whole again.

In a dense, green woodland, in the middle of some hidden grove, they stand before the waterfall.

Amy follows the women's instructions to step into the pool, letting it drench herself up to her waist in warm water. She stares at the vertical stream. And wishes.

In three blinks, she sees them. Hears them.

-

"Fifth time now. No Stompy." Robin pants, having returned from another sweep of the grounds.

"One more. There must be somewhere you missed!" Humphrey demands of the caveman.

He shakes his ragged head; "It no good, head bit. There no smell of her around. Even body bit give up."

With a wave of his paw, he gestures to where Humphrey's body sits on the floor in front of the fireplace where it first fell centuries ago. Like a giant forgotten headless doll, it sits, slumping slightly forward.

Head of Humphrey scoffs as he rests in Kitty's hands; "Useless, the both of you! Come on, girls, you know my Amy, she's just the best at this game but we can find her."

"But it's been hours. I'm tired." Kitty sighs, though she sounds more heartbroken than exhausted. She doesn't wish to say she agrees with Robin.

"We'll never find her." Silver sits in the windowsill, her tone nearly robotic, drained of its spark; "She's gone."

"Don't say that! No one saw her go!" Humphrey rebukes.

"I did!" Says Mick, on a rare intrusion up above ground level; "I was about to help her find a good spot and then....whoosh! Caught me right off guard."

"Ah. There you have it, Humphrey." Says Captain, stoicially; "An eyewitness."

"His kind wouldn't have been counted as a witness in my day, let alone human!"

"That's enough, Humphrey! You're not yourself. What would Amy think to hear you speak of her friends that way?" Kitty chastises.

"Yeah, I loved that girl like she were my own niece! She was as good and decent to us as any have been!" Mick defends, upset.

"I know, I...." Humphrey sniffs; "I just...I just can't believe it...I feel like I only just found her and now...It's so...bloody unfair."

"Hmm. It's gonna be very strange not having her scare the living daylights out of me. I'm gonna miss not seeing her in the corner of my eye." Julian mused, patting Robin's back.

"She certainly was an unforgettable character. And as much as we clashed, I secretly admired her spirit." Fanny spoke.

"A sweet girl....underneath all that...y'know." Pat guestered to her make up and overall appearance; "We'll have to contact Alison. She can help us arrange-."

"The funeral?" Silver finished, then stunned everyone by bursting into laughter. "Haha...Hahaha.....Hahahahahaha!"

She hugged her legs close as she began to rock. Everyone stared at her.

"Silver? Love, are you okay?" Asked Pat gently.

"Hehehehe....of course....Of course, I'm okay....At least I was awake for this one...Hahaha....." Despite her laughter, her eyes shone with tears. "Thanks Amy. If you're watching....Thanks for not leaving while I slept.....Thanks for one last laugh....Hahahaha...."

It's Robin who rushes over to her and gathers her into his arms, understanding her moods better than anyone, how they often seemed to border on mania. She fights him at first, hands batting at his furs before sinking into him.

Humphrey cries next. Kitty holds him tight as she let's her own tears fall, Captain reaching forward to pat her back.

No one speaks for a while after. There will be time for a proper service to say their goodbyes.

-

Amy pounds at the water like glass.

"I'M HERE! I'M RIGHT HERE! YOU FUCKING IDIOTS, WHY CAN'T YOU HEAR ME?!" She wails and sobs before falling on her knees into the water.

Mary moves to pull her away but Annie holds her back. She needs this as much as the figures in the waterfall need their grief. As much as Mary needed to scream and cry when she was taken away from them. From her Silver.

So they stand. And they wait. They stay with her.

[ch0kehold-ch3rry-pyth0n]

The Spirit ask blog

So, I have made one of these before. However, it is old and I am unsatisfied with it. So I am rewriting it by myself without an annoying tiny pink ghost nagging me and talking over me.

With that said, let's try this again.

Introduction section - Get to know Spirit and her world

Hello, Tumblr. My name is Spirit Auraveil. I am a second year Ramshackle student at Night Raven College as of writing this. I don't really know what else I can say about myself. But I am a gorgon with albinism and I am very normal about the color red, as you can see from the text color I set it to. I go by she/her and I'm omni and poly.

I share a dorm with a couple other idiots. Apparently a cat possum thing is considered a student for whatever reason? But we have a Housewarden named Comet. She was the first one to be put in this dorm (along with the possum) and she nearly broke her back trying to renovate it from looking like a total dump. Ramshackle would not be the dorm it is today without her. And then there's people like Alice, Jude, Heaven, that one guy that Floyd and Jade hate for whatever reason, and whatever the fuck Andro has got going on.

We're a smaller population of students in comparison to the other 7 dorms. It's not that bad when you don't have a ghost breathing down your neck at 3AM while you're trying to make kraft Macaroni and Cheese. But we're who makes Ramshackle a home.

Except for Andro. He kinda just locks himself in his room all day. To a point where he's more of a cryptid than the actual cryptids that live here.

Anyway, what else do I put down? Oh, right. The rules. Cue the next section.

The rules - What is and isn't okay to say or do when interacting with Spirit

[Red = Spirit's text]

[Default = ooc/the creator's text]

Don't be rude unprompted. I am aware of how I come off. But that is no excuse to give me distasteful asks. I will not respond to those types of asks.

No nsfw. I may be over 18+, but I still don't look forward to publicly answering asks that are inherently sexual. That just feels weird and uncomfortable. So if you could avoid doing that, that'd be great.

Don't feel bad if I don't respond. I get burnt out pretty quickly. So I may not get to your ask right away. But I will try to get to it as soon as I can so long as it doesn't break any rules or boundaries.

Don't question my tags. I let my acquaintance, Alice, tag my posts because I usually just don't feel like doing it myself. If there's anything strange or goofy in there, chances are that is all Alice's doing.

No derogatory language! Swearing is okay, as this is an account for audiences that are teenagers and older. But we do not condone the usage of slurs of any kind. Nor do we condone any type of homophobia, transphobia, racism, ableism, or anything of the sort. If this rule offends you, then you're more of a snowflake than I am and I kindly ask you get off this page.

Don't spam. I am not online all the time and neither is Spirit. I may occasionally go into long hiatuses, mainly due to me forgetting that I have this account at all. But still, please don't spam. That is honestly just a hassle for me more than anything.

No god modding. As in do not attempt to control my character, force things that I did not agree on, try to majorly hurt or kill my character without consulting in me first, or anything of the sort. It ruins the fun when things are forced!

Other character and oc interactions are welcome! I am happy to roleplay and interact with other rp blogs and accounts. I aim to build some kind of storyline with this ask blog. And I appreciate when others add onto that!

Try to remember that this is all lighthearted. I deeply apologize if I come off as uninterested or cold. It's just how my neutral expression and voice is. And I mean you no ill will. Although I appreciate honesty in terms of confronting me when I make you upset. Gives me more room to try and fix the problem at hand.

Conclusion - final statement from Spirit

Anyway, that is just about it. I hope that we can get along nicely. Do take care of yourself.

I'll see you all in my next post. Later.

(Check out my other accounts: @aetherphobia @enigmacitrus-rp)

[ry-ichi1]

The Old Picture

Summary: Two or Three years ago before the event, Scrooge finds Derya's old photo when they were in the Navy with their mysterious old friend while he wants to head home.

Wordcounts: ±2700 words

Tags: tbh idk what tags I have to put on this

Warning: mentioning death?

A/N: LAKSJDKJAKASMKA THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I MADE FANFIC. If anything is wrong or missing, please tell me because English isn’t my first language (thanks to Grammarly) and I’m bad at writing. Also, I hope you enjoy this story.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Derya’s POV

Marley and Scrooge’s private banker and lender is gloomy like usual. I and Bob, who works there, tidy up all papers and prepare to go home because it’s already 6 P.M. now. Bob has already done to prepare him to go home and ask for his wages from Sir Scrooge. Again, he is always grumpy, especially when it’s almost Christmas Eve.

“Hey Derya, do you mind to come my home to celebrate Christmas Eve with my family?” offer him.

“Thanks for your offer, but I can’t join you this year” it’s because my brother, Henry, will come to my place. “I’m so sorry Bob” I feel bad for him, especially for his kids. They must be waiting for my story about when I was a pirate.

“Oh, it’s okay! No pressure on you. I have to go now, Merry Christmas Derya and Sir Scrooge!” he already step out from the door and meets his children outside. There are Kathy and Tiny Tim outside. They notice me and wave their hand.

I wave my hand to them as I peek out from the door. “Merry Christmas to you Bo­-”

“Yeah yeah merrily doo Christmas!” He slams the door.

I jump back as he slams the door. Yep, another of his normal behavior.

“And you!” He sees me annoyingly. “It’s already 6 P.M.! Why are you still here???”

“Well, I just want to head to my home, but…” I lend my hand to him as I smile slyly.

“Ughhh, okay this your wages and go home now!” He pushes me into the front of the door.

“Okay, okay! See you later and Mer-” he slams the door. “-ry Christmas” as I expected.

Ebenezer’s POV

“I swear to god why that person is still in my li-” I notice there is a small piece of paper on the floor. I pick it up and realize that the paper is a photo. I take a look at that photo “it’s that Derya?” I had never seen them in Navy uniform before and they were happy like they had no problems in their life. “And who is this man?” that question was already answered as I read their handwriting (I believe) that said, “Mar, 1823. Drinking with my friend Thompson!”. So, he is Derya’s friend named Thompson. What happened to their friendship? Wait… why do I care about it???

Prudence’s appearance makes me distract from that mind. She seems curious about what I am holding in my hand. “It’s just their photo with their dear friend and we have to go home now Prudence” I keep that photo in my coat and prepare to go home. When I reach the door, Prudence blocks my way. “Woof!” she looks at me with a serious face. “What?! You want me to return that photo now???” she nods. “Oh Prudence dear, we can do that later! We still have another day to return it!” she seems to disagree with my statement. Silence fills this room and she still doesn’t move from her place. “BAH FINE! WE RETURN IT TO DERYA NOW”.

She looks happy that we will go to their place. “I can’t believe I have to do this” I lock the door and go to their place. One question, where do they live? I never ask them where they live. What?! I’m just minding my own business! …, Okay only one way to know where they live and I kinda hate it.

“Excuse me sir, do you know where Derya Darenport lives?” this man looks familiar from behind.

“Oh! Derya? They liv- SIR SCROOGE?!?” It’s Mr. Jenkins. He looks scared to me, just like he sees a ghost. “Well, you know my debt-”

“I don’t ask about that, Jenkins. I ask about where Derya lives”

“Oh, right, well Derya lives around South London. From here, ….” He explains in detail.

“So, you said they live in a tenement?” I ask again to make sure.

“Yes, sir”

“…, thank you for the direction Mr. Jenkins”

“You’re welcome si-”

“Don’t forget to pay your debt, Mr. Jenkins. You know what happened if you don’t pay your debt, right?” I point to him with my cane.

“Ye-yes, sir”

“Good” I walk away with Prudence beside me.

Jenkins’ POV

He already walks away to head to Derya’s home. “Ain’t they already working together in the same place in 4 or 5 years? …, that man is so unpredictable”. I shake my head and go to my home.

Ebenezer’s POV

“So this place is where Derya lives huh…” the tenement looks dull. “Sigh...” I knock on the door and wait.

“I’m coming~” Finally the door is open. There is an old lady, whom I assume, is the owner of this tenement. “Oh, Mr. Scrooge! Come in” I step inside the tenement. “Is there any need or trouble that made you bring here sir?” she smiles in friendly.

“Oh, I have an important thing with Derya. So please, lead me to them”

“Ooh~, Derya lives on the third floor and-” she sees Prudence. “Also your dog can join us too” Prudence looks happy after hearing about it. “Well, follow my lead, sir”.

I follow her lead as she talks about herself (which I found out that her name is Eleanor Taylor) and the dwellers of this tenement. Speaking about the tenement, how bloody hell they can live in this stuffy place??? No, I’m not caring about them! Just- BAH HUMBUG!

“You know what, Derya always talking about you sir” she looks at me as we walk to the third floor.

“Huh, I bet they do hate speech about me, right?” How dare they talk about my bad thing to other people.

“Well… kinda, but most of it is interesting about you”

Interesting??? What does it mean??? Suddenly, My mind interrupts by the beautiful violin that plays the “Greensleeves” song. That soft melody soothes my mind and gets closer as I walk.

“Alright sir, this is Derya’s room” I never know they can play the violin. “Do you want me to call them sir?”

“Ah, no thank you, Mrs. Taylor, I will call them”

“Okay, If you need some help you can call me” she walks downstairs. “Also please again, call me Madam El” she disappears while she goes down.

I take a breath and knock on the door.

Derya’s POV

My “performance” was interrupted by someone knocking on my door. I hope it’s my brother. I open the door and I’m shocked. “Sir Scrooge! What are you doing here???” I see Prudence with him too. Ain’t this tenement didn’t allow to bring any animals here... Wait, how she can pass from Madam El??? And that’s how scary Sir Scrooge is??? Even Madam El let Prudence pass? Damn, Scrooge…

“Well…” he takes something from his coat. “I believe this photo belongs to you” he gives me a photo.

I take that photo and take a look. My eyes widen as I realize this photo is of myself with my dear old friend. “W-where you find it?”

“It fell on the floor” straight to the point.

“I- thank you, sir! This photo is very important to me” I hold my photo tightly.

“Huh! If you know that thing is important, you have to keep it safe next time you little magpie!” He still uses that “insult”.

“Okay, okay, yes sir land boy!” I know he hates that name. “And aren’t you have to go home now?” His home is far from here if I’m not wrong.

“To be honest, do you mind explain that what happened to your friend in that photo?”

Okay, that’s new for him that never care about around him. “Uhhh…”

“If you’re not ready to tell about it, it’s okay! Take your time”

“No, no, no, I’m okay with that” I look around first. “Let’s talk about it in my room, shall we?”

Ebenezer’s POV

“…, okay” did I just agree with it?

“Well, come in sir! Make sure you feel like your own home if you can” I rolled my eyes as I take a step to their room.

As I enter the room, the warm and cozy atmosphere meet me. Maybe their room is so small, but simple and not stuffy. Also, their usual scent, the ocean scent, is really strong in this room.

“May take a seat, sir” they pull the chair from the dining table that you can meet right after you enter the room beside their wardrobe. “Can I take your coat, sir?”

“No thank you, I keep it” I take a sit as they prepare the tea in their “little kitchen” on the right side of the dining table. Their room isn’t festive for celebrating Christmas Eve as I expect, but there is a small Christmas tree on the dining table. It is put in the pot and decorated with folding papers in a star shape with a big paper star on the top (which is very creative). “I like how you’re played the violin before” I break the silence between us.

“Oh! Uh…, thanks” They try to hide their bashful face while they serve the tea to me and them. “So, what made you interested in that photo?” They seem curious as they bring a chair to sit close to me.

“First of all, you never talk about him because he is your friend. Second, why did you quit from Navy? You look happy in that photo” as I finish asking, they laugh. “Wha- what’s funny about it???”

“Well, maybe I was happy like in that photo, but every happiness has tragedy after it” They’re right. “For the first question, He is already dead” their smile seem blue. Prudence walks to them to comfort them. They pat her “I’m okay”

“I’m sorry to hear that” I want to comfort them by patting their shoulder, but I might regret it if I do that.

“It’s okay, really” but their face says not okay.

“So let me guess, you quit from Navy because your friend died?” that reason is kinda ridiculous, but I believe they have more reason than that.

“Well, almost” they take a sip of tea. “I quit from Navy because I found out how sinner they are, especially what the higher position in the Navy did to my friend” they talk in rage but quietly. At the same time, their face is close to mine and our eyes meet each other. I never knew they have pretty eyes. Their eyes remind me of a ruby, not really red but- WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT??? FOCUS SCROOGE!

“What did they do to your friend?” I know this seems rude, but I have to do it to distract myself.

“Sigh…, they killed him like an accident” I’m shocked. “He died in un-justice way” they hold their anger. “He died in knowing their sins” they hold their anger tears. I‘m concerned about them now. “Because of them, he left his dear wife and a son I-” their tears can hold it anymore. My hand reflex moves to their shoulder to comfort them.  “I’m so sorry…, I shouldn’t cry over the past…” they wipe their tears.

“Take your time” I smile at them. What is wrong with me?

“Again, I’m okay” they put their hand on my hand on their shoulder. “Also, you should smile more! You look good with it” I try to hide my blushing face. I hope they won’t notice it.

“So, do you still mad about it?”

“Of course I do! I even want to have revenge on them again, but…” they look at me. “… I can’t do that because they are too powerful and I have to move forward” they smile sweetly. “Maybe the past makes me hurt, but I cannot brood over it forever and have to move on” I’m processing what they just said.

Someone just knocked on the window. Aren’t we on the third floor? There is no way people can climb on the wall. Derya walks toward to window and opens it a little. A crow enters the room with a paper scroll on its back. Oh, it’s a crow.

“Oh Sir Erebus, you must be tired, right?” they pat that crow and give some peanuts to it. Sir Erebus? Heh, What a funny name. They take that paper and read it as that crow flies to their head and sits on them. They look sad after they read it. “I guess I’m celebrating Christmas alone again…”

“What do you mean?”

“Henry, my dear brother, cannot visit me because he has some business” the grandfather clock chimes behind me. It’s already 9 P.M.

“Well, I think I have to go home now” I finish their tea and get up. “Thanks for your hospitality, come on Prudence” she gets up and follows me.

“Wait, sir!” they wear their coat. “Let me accompany you to the main door”

Derya’s POV

“Okay, it’s up to you” I think he agrees with it.

I close the door and follow him downstairs. Damn, his walk is fast as sailfish for his age. I tried to catch him up as we walk downstairs. Only silence between the two of us while we walk down. I dare look at him and think about what just happened in my room. Did he just care and smile at me? Also, I remember he just blushed when I look at him… HAH, NONSENSE! There is no way he do that such thing… or maybe…

“There is something wrong with my face?” he notices.

“Yes, there is! And you might hate it if I mention it” the wrong thing on his face is why he is so handsome.

“Huh, okay” He rolled his eyes.

We finally arrived at the main door of the tenement. We step out of the door and we meet breezing wind that bites our skin with the sky full of black ink and dancing tiny lights. “Sir, you can wait here while I find a carriage for you” I don’t care how he reacts to it, but that man needs it because his home is really far from here and it’s already night.

Not far from my tenement, I already find a carriage. “Ay, sir!” I run toward it. “Are you going to the center of London?” I ask the coachman.

“Lucky for you! My way to my home just passed there”

“Oh thank Neptune, would you mind taking that man to his home? He lives in there” I point to Sir Scrooge not far behind me. “And this is your payment, I hope this is enough” I took out my wages that gave by Scrooge before.

“Since this is Christmas Eve, I will take any payment you have” He winks at me.

“Oh, thanks for your kindness sir! Please wait, I tell him now” I walk toward Sir Scrooge.

Ebenezer’s POV

Did they just pay him with all their wages without thinking about themselves??? How do they survive if they do that every time?!

“I find a carriage for you sir! Now you can go home safely” they smile brightly as they are in that photo before. They lend their hand “Let me take you to the carriage”. I take their hand because it will be rude if I refuse it. We walk toward the carriage and they open the carriage door for me. “Before you go, …” I look at them. “… I know you will hate it but …” They take a deep breath. “Merry Christmas sir”

Derya’s POV

What did I just thinking about??? Wishing him that hate Christmas entire his heart?!? He stares at me. Okay, I’m totally fucked up now…

“Merry Christmas too, Derya” as he went in a carriage. I’m surprised by that words. Did he just Merry Christmas to me? I still stand in the same place because I’m shocked about what happened before.

Ebenezer’s POV

This carriage was already far from their tenement. I’m still thinking about what happened to myself before and their words.

“Well, maybe I was happy like in that photo, but every happiness has tragedy after it”

“… I can’t do that because they are too powerful and I have to move forward”

“Maybe the past makes me hurt, but I cannot brood over it forever and have to move on”

I take out my pocket watch and open it. “TO OUR HAPPINESS” written on it. I stare at it long and close it harshly.

“Humbug…”

[babygirl-riley]

The Hallmark Cabin

Late night dreams keep Fox from being able to get some good nights rest after her torture. Ghost (per usual) doesn’t get any sleep due to his nightmares. So why not chitchat?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, and Fluff

Sweat was the only thing I could feel sticking to my skin. I was panting pretty hard, I sat up running my fingers through my hair. Nightmares, they all started once I was rescued. Torture sleep repeat. Sometimes I would watch myself die, Ghost and Soap arriving too late.

I sighed taking off the layers of clothing getting into fresh new ones. Sighing I walked over to the door, opening it, watching the halls for a moment. It wouldn't hurt to just get a cup of coffee, I knew I wasn't going to go back to sleep so might as well.

It didn't take long to be able to reach the break room that was for the 'higher ups.' I sat down after making the small pot, scratching at my eyes. "Fox," The deep voice came from behind me, even though it made me jump, it didn't entirely scare me. Ghost. I turned in the chair to face him. He was wearing his normal clothes but instead with no gear and not his skull mask but his skull detailed balaclava. "What are ya doing up?"

I watched him carefully as he went around so I could sit properly in the chair. He stared down at me, those beautiful brown eyes of his, it didn't even have his usual black paint that he wore when going into the field. I didn't even noticed how long I was staring until I saw his eyes look around. I tried to fight the blush coming through my cheeks, thankfully succeeding. I cleared my throat. "Can't sleep is all."

Ghost just stared for a moment before giving a firm nod and turned to the cabinets, pulling out a cup. "I see." He also grabbed a kettle placing it on the stove once he filled it with water.

Once he was finished he came and sat across from me. We locked eyes once again, it was a comfortable silence. I could tell Ghost was searching, he didn’t want to pry, he isn’t the type. Knowing him for more than a couple months it was easy to know that he didn’t like to comfort others, he would basically be the ‘dust it off’ type.

“It’s the Hallmark cabin.” I said smirking, taking a sip out of my cup.

His expression changed to amusement. “The Hallmark cabin?” From how his voice was, he knew I wasn’t telling the truth. I didn’t know to let him know that I was still having nightmares.

“Yeah, deciding where to place this home. Has to be isolated from everything. The only problem it would wait for years, since the field of work I am in. Never know when someone will hunt me down.”

“Especially with this line of work, could build a security system,” He paused for moment. “What about your mate?”

“No mate.” I said shaking my head.

The room went tense for a moment, not a bad one, it was more that we both wanted to say. Ever since the whole card game situation there has been a sexual tension between the both of us. We both didn’t know how to bring it up. At least for me, I didn’t know if I was reading it wrong.

“Didn’t ya want a dog too?” Ghost asked breaking my train of thought.

It shocked me for a moment, to me Ghost was the type of remember the tiny details. Or even care to know. It was a small detail I mentioned to him when we first talked about this damn cabin. I nodded slowly trying to fight the red blush hitting my cheeks, I hurried and took a sip of my drink. “A German Shepard to be exact.” I mumbled.

Ghost nodded before leaning back. “You could get two, a german and malinois. Malinois are good protectors too.”

I glared at him teasingly. “You a dog expert?”

Ghost snorted rolling his eyes. “I worked around them, they can be vicious but sweet.” I hummed drinking my coffee. “How big do you want this cabin?”

“Decent size. Nothing too big, two stories. I want a land though.”

“You wanna do a farm?” He asked I couldn’t tell if he was joking cause how he said it.

I chuckled lightly. “No, if I want kids and the dogs, they will need a decent backyard. Hell have my own hunting ground.”

“You hunt?”

I nodded my head. “You thought I knew how to handle a gun by this profession?”

He just stared for a moment before the kettle went off. I jumped but he just kept looking at me before standing up and pouring just the right amount of water into the cup. “This cabin, where would it located?”

I watched carefully looking at his butt. I never noticed how well shaped it was, glad that it is since he is a big man. It would be awkward if he was flat and the rest bulk. “Fox?” I snapped my head up to see him half looking over his shoulder. “Ya drooling love.”

I quickly wiped my lip but it was dry. Ghost chuckled. Fuck. I could feel the blood rush up. “Somewhere forestry. Why you care about my cabin?” The words rushed out quickly trying my best to make the conversation change.

Ghost stopped what he was doing. He sat there for a moment. “Curious.” He said quietly.

“Mhm, I don’t see you doing it to anyone else.”

Ghost finally turned around having a teabag in his cup. “It’s cause I am not curious on what they want.”

I gave him a quizzed look. “So just me?”

“Maybe.” He sat down not looking at me just his tea.

I glared at him smirking. “Alright.”

“Alright?” He questioned looking up at me. His eyes had that hint of another emotion, couldn’t tell, it didn’t seem like what Ghost would have.

“Yeah I can tell our flirting is going to a new level.” I mumbled taking the last sip of my drink.

He chuckled and I could tell his eyes turned into that dark haze. The list. “New level? Explain Fox,” He leaned into the table getting a bit closer. “What level would you want it to be?”

I glared once more feeling his leg hitting mine briefly. I moved my foot up his leg. “Oh I think we both know the answer to that Lt.”

After that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he would be the mate in the cabin. How we could be rolling around naked of course but also having those damn dogs. Unfortunately though, that doesn’t seem the type of guy Ghost is. Not the settling type, just the ‘no strings attached.’

But that wouldn’t stop us from a little flirting would it?

[randomfandomdreaming]

Welcome and Masterlist

A Little About Me

Welcome to my tiny corner of the Internet! I'm Rune, and I have an unhealthy obsession with fandoms lol.

This blog may be centered around fandoms, but I have no doubt that I'll end up posting spiritual or occult related topics at some point. If you don't like it, please move along and don't interact.

This blog is 18+ due to the fact that some heavier topics and imagery is sometimes used on my blog. It’s the Internet and we all like to over share here 🤣

Fandoms: Star Wars, Ghost (the band), Dead By Daylight, slashers, Doctor Who, Guardians of Ga’Hoole (book series), and others I can't remember right this moment lol

Star Wars will always have a very special place in my heart as it was the first fandom I ever got involved in, all the way back in 2008. I was writing SW fanfiction when I was in third grade, so there's that lol. That was also when I learned I loved writing. My magnum opus as a writer is very much Call of the Stars (a Star Wars fanfiction), and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Favorite Star Wars characters: Obi-Wan, my dual-wielding kings Rex and Tech, Mitth’raw’nuruodo (Thrawn), Qui-Gon, Cutup, Fives, and Jar Jar.

Fandoms I know the most about: Star Wars. I know an unhealthy amount of lore, history, ships, and other random galactic facts. I am a NERD for SW. I can read and write Aurebesh (Basic) and tried to learn Huttese, Mando'a, and Cheunh. I have a problem. I mean, I'm completely normal about it, I swear.

Masterlist

⚠️ = Spoilers

Star Wars

Call of the Stars (AO3)

⚠️ Ahsoka Show Thoughts 2

Clone Trooper Headcanons

An Explanation of the Coruscant Regulated Calendar (CRC)

Dead By Daylight

Unlikely Shadows (AO3) 18+

Not So Merciless (Wesker)

DBD Wesker Headcanons

Lore Accurate Headcanons

A Lesson in Stealth (Ghost Face x GN!Reader) 18+ AO3 Link

Random DBD Pictures 2 3

High DBD Thought of the Day 2

Michael Myers (OG)

Not Your Typical Victim

Doctor Who

Just Another Stray 2 3

Spirituality

My Reality Shifting Experience

[titanicfreija]

Angry

The sand table's piece was just a bunch of divots in rows from Sunny bouncing along and trying to measure distances. She couldn't think of anything else and she needed to spend time doing something. It didn't help that she was afraid to talk to Caiatl because she knew she would say something about it and maybe start trouble.

So naturally, Caiatl pinged comms.

And she couldn't think of an excuse and she didn't want to just say no. Just act normal and be a good friend.

That immediately backfired, because Sunny's first attempt at pretending to be in a good mood was an entirely fake, "Hey!" 

If Caiatl was going to say anything else, it was gone now. "What happened."

"Freija made me mad, I'm drawing it out on my table."

"Ah. My men found an interesting supply of stationery in the Pale Heart, and I wondered what you might like to do with some of this ink. It is an interesting texture and the color is a rich purple I am sure you will like."

Sunny could have melted. "You got me a thing?" 

The invitation was to a living/travel station near Mars, and Sunny found Caiatl's transmission point easily.

No sooner than she arrived did Caiatl swipe at her and miss as she shot toward the pile of crates along one wall.

Most had been opened and gone through, with stacks of supplies sitting around each one, some on crate corners. Paper, canvas, silk, if any major earth culture painted on it, it was here; paints of all kinds, ink pens, markers, bottled ink; brushes and quills and so much more than Sunny had ever seen before.

"Oh, wow," Sunny said, trying to pick what sounded good. "The City will love this."

"I expected you would feel that way about much of the supply, but this caught my eye when it spilled, and I think you would like it."

The spill in question still stained the floor vivid pinkish-purple in a beautiful sprawl of lines and dots from where the container had obviously landed on its side.

"I do like that color," Sunny agreed cheerfully. "I think I'll need something protective, or maybe an alternative way of drawing with it than I usually do. Humans had a special pen for this kind of ink."

"Search as you need, we will do our best to construct a means for you," Caiatl replied. "And while you do so, tell me what is wrong. I had been hoping to bring about some cheer, but I did not expect refreshed malaise. What did she do?"

Caiatl pulled up a chair while Sunny pretended to be too busy looking to answer. "Normal Guardian stuff, and I told her to quit and she didn't," Sunny huffed, remembering every other time it happened, more often than it didn't. "Guardians," she muttered irritably. She couldn't make it a swear like Caiatl but she could certainly say she didn't like them all the time. 

She didn't look back at the empress, afraid of what she might see. 

"This is very typical behavior of a Guardian, yes," Caiatl agreed, speech heavy and more monotonous than usual. "I don't suppose you'll give me more context, will you?"

Sunny didn't know what to say. "You'll be mad no matter what I say," sighed the Ghost. "Forgive her, she's just got a lot to learn." She finally glanced back at the empress to see her standing frozen, as if she were a statue. 

"Was it the same?" she asked, finally. 

Sunny drooped. "Yeah."

Caiatl took a deep breath that inflated her to twice her size.

Sunny didn't know what she was going to do but it couldn't be good. "She'll quit, it just has to scare her enough," the Ghost said, knowing it was a bad excuse.

"I will scare her enough."

Sunny wheeled helplessly and flew back to Caiatl's side. "I understand, I really do, I want to beat her in the head some days, but please don't hurt my Guardian."

The Uluran studied the tiny drone in front of her. "Define, 'hurt'," she growled. 

Sunny did struggle with that one. "I don't know if I'm okay with you doing any kind of pain infliction at all," she said softly. "I know she needs a kick in the ass but I'm not sure I want you giving it to her."

"Who better," Caiatl chuckled darkly, but she sat back down and gestured at the offering. "She is overconfident. She will get worse."

Sunny wheeled silently and kept her eye on the paper, looking for something sturdy and not too absorbent. 

"Sunny."

"You just want to kick her in the ass," Sunny muttered. "I don't blame you, but still."

"... I will admit that there have been occasions where I wished I could hold her to a standard."

"Kick her in the ass."

"Much the same. Corporal punishment is standing practice."

Sunny didn't want to say yes but she really wanted Freija to stop that and she wouldn't until it was too late, and while Sunny had a lot more faith than Caiatl in herself and in Freija to handle 'too late', the empress was right– with the way they worked, 'too late' might actually be. 

Plus, she did lose a fight and do it again anyway, which…

"What kind of corporal punishment."

"Lashings, beatings. There have been traditions of amputation that we no longer employ. I do wonder if she would prefer having a hand cut off over being whipped."

Sunny didn't want to think about it. "Don't whip my Guardian."

"Are we narrowing down the options I may employ?" Caiatl asked, maybe a little too eagerly. 

Sunny didn't want to answer that, either. 

"I will use only my hands and feet?" she offered hopefully.

Sunny couldn't figure out how she managed to make a threat sound like a request. Diplomacy, she guessed. 

"I will not kill her, nor harm her to such a degree that it could," Caiatl vowed.

Sunny didn't like how much she liked the sound of it, either, and it wasn't like she didn't get shot at every day anyway, and while 'who better' wasn't a good question, 'who else' was.

"Fine. Please don't hurt my Guardian."

Sunny barely heard her on the way out. "Hurt is relative."