#imagine your house is haunted or a loved one is possessed and then when you called for help this fucker showed up

[ratblazer]

vintage Johm

[jaebeomsbitch]

The Princess and Eggplant (E.M.)

Summary: Your boyfriend happens to be a foot taller than you...or Eddie is afraid to stick it all the way in, afraid to hurt you

Warnings: Minors DNI, size kink, pure smut

Pairings: Boyfriend!Eddie x Girlfriend!Reader

A/N: watching Sex and the City and couldn’t stop thinking about the size difference between Carrie and Aidan. As a 5'1 they/them I'm drooling. Literally finished this a while ago but couldn't find a good gif, I'm gonna start making my own banners

Like Eddie holding you up, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his big hands on your ass. His tongue in your mouth as he kisses you more and more aggressively until you can’t breath and your head is spinning. The way he manhandles you, impaling his thick cock inside you as he grits his teeth trying to control himself from being too rough. But his cock only fits half way and you’re clinging onto his shoulders moaning like a ghost in a haunted house.

You heave for air as his cock knocks the wind out of you. He lays you out on the bed, your hair fanning out as he yanks you to the edge of the bed.

“Fuck sweetheart” he groans looking at the way his cock disappears inside of you. His neck straining as he holds himself back.

“More Eddie, fuck give me more” you gasp, your nails digging into his back.

“S-shit baby, don’t wanna hurt you” he grunts, slowly pulling out and back halfway in. As he refuses to go deeper, his eyes already rolling back as your tight velvet walls grip onto him.

“Please Eddie” you whine, pressing the heels of your feet into his ass forcing him deeper into you. Your jaw slacks as you’re stretched open by your boyfriend.

“S-shit s-so fucking big” you moan pressing your chest into his.

“F-fuck you’re gonna kill me” he groans voice higher pitched then normal. He hisses, teeth clenched tightly as he tries to remain still. However you don’t give him the chance, you dig your feet deeper into his pale ass. Pushing him inch by inch slowly into you until his hips are flush with your ass.

Eddie knows that he needs to be the one to slow down, but it's hard when you feel this good - especially when you're moaning like that. He hasn’t even moved and yet you’re already cock drunk. You’re drooling and moaning incoherently as Eddie’s cock fits like a puzzle piece inside you, nice and deep.your pussy struggles to accommodate the stretch. Your walls pulse around him almost like it’s trying to push Eddie out. 

His arms shake as he shallowly thrusts into you, little grunts leaving his lips. 

“Fuck Princess, so fucking tight” he whines. 

“S-shit it’s like you’re fucking choking my cock” he grunts out, looking at the slight bulge in your lower stomach every time he slides back in. The sight is enough to make him cum right then and there. 

“F-fuck fuck fuck ohhhh fuck” you moan underneath him trying to grind into him but his grip on your hips tightens. You know he’s gonna leave bruises on you but you fucking love it. Love that he’s practically whimpering “princess” under his breath like a broken record, like he needs to burn the feeling and imagine in his head. 

“More, Eddie please-” you whine, your pussy pulsing around him desperately trying to drag him back in. He shakes his head vehemently, his jaw tight as he grinds his teeth. No girl could ever take his full cock before and much less someone so petite. 

“So fucking perfect Princess. Your pussy’s taking me so fucking good. Fucking stretching out to fit my cock baby” he grunts out starting to lose his reserve. His hips move slightly faster as he feels the burn deep in his gut. 

“Made f’you Eds” you nod, eyebrows pinched together as he pulls the rubber band tighter. You flex your stomach trying to keep it together. Your moans getting louder as his his resolve starts to slack more and more. 

It isn’t long until he’s snapping his hips into yours looking like a man possessed. He’s fucking feral, hair wild, pupils blown out, neck flexed. His whole body is tense as he pounds into you fast and hard completely breaking you down. 

You’re more than cock drunk at this point. Babbling gibberish, writhing under him, pulling at the sheets, your eyes closed shut as you’re in your own little world taking Eddie’s thick cock. 

“Jesus fucking Christ” Eddie moans at the sight of you. Most girls would’ve cried in pain, he always needed at least an hour of stretching and foreplay to get half way in and yet here you are taking it.

“M’gonna cum!” You cry, stomach flexing harder, your muscles tightening almost painfully. 

“Fuck- cum on my cock, Princess,” he pants, his balls slapping into your ass, hand pressing into your stomach feeling the bulge of his cock.

“Ohh fuck- fuck- fuckkk fuckkk” you all but scream as you let go. You tremble under Eddie’s body, face contorted, jaw slacked, drool dripping down your chin. It’s like you’re high and drunk at the same time. 

“That’s it Princess milk my fucking cock. Taking me so well, begging for my fucking cum” he grunts. His eyes rolling back as he clenched his jaw and comes hard. Thick white ropes paint your velvet walls already dripping down to your ass. Your pussy too small to accommodate both his cock and cum. 

“Shit” he heaves, slowly pulling out not trying to hurt you further. 

“I’m not gonna be able to walk am I?” You groan as he nuzzles into your neck. 

He chuckles,”probably not.”

“You’re the worst” you mumble lightly nipping his bottom lip. 

“Not what you were yelling two seconds ago” he murmurs against your lips. That’s dimpled grin on his face as he presses for a kiss and another and another.  

[makingqueerhistory]

Queer Book Recommendations

Every once in a while I like sharing some queer book recommendations on here as I read a lot and I get requests to share some of the books I love, so here we go! 

Tell Me I'm Worthless: Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends Ila and Hannah. Since then, things have not been going well. Alice is living a haunted existence, selling videos of herself cleaning for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. She hasn’t spoken to Ila since they went into the House. She hasn’t seen Hannah either.

Our Wives Under The Sea: Miri thinks she has got her wife back, when Leah finally returns after a deep sea mission that ended in catastrophe. It soon becomes clear, though, that Leah may have come back wrong. Whatever happened in that vessel, whatever it was they were supposed to be studying before they were stranded on the ocean floor, Leah has carried part of it with her, onto dry land and into their home. 

You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty: Feyi Adekola wants to learn how to be alive again.It’s been five years since the accident that killed the love of her life and she’s almost a new person now—an artist with her own studio, and sharing a brownstone apartment with her ride-or-die best friend, Joy, who insists it’s time for Feyi to ease back into the dating scene. Feyi isn’t ready for anything serious, but a steamy encounter at a rooftop party cascades into a whirlwind summer she could have never imagined: a luxury trip to a tropical island, decadent meals in the glamorous home of a celebrity chef, and a major curator who wants to launch her art career.

Silver Under Nightfall: Remy Pendergast is many things: the only son of the Duke of Valenbonne (though his father might wish otherwise), an elite bounty hunter of rogue vampires, and an outcast among his fellow Reapers. His mother was the subject of gossip even before she eloped with a vampire, giving rise to the rumors that Remy is half-vampire himself. Though the kingdom of Aluria barely tolerates him, Remy’s father has been shaping him into a weapon to fight for the kingdom at any cost.

Disintegrate/Dissociate: In her powerful debut collection of poetry, Arielle Twist unravels the complexities of human relationships after death and metamorphosis. In these spare yet powerful poems, she explores, with both rage and tenderness, the parameters of grief, trauma, displacement, and identity. Weaving together a past made murky by uncertainty and a present which exists in multitudes, Arielle Twist poetically navigates through what it means to be an Indigenous trans woman, discovering the possibilities of a hopeful future and a transcendent, beautiful path to regaining softness. 

The Perks of Loving a Wallflower: As a master of disguise, Thomasina Wynchester can be a polite young lady—or a bawdy old man. She’ll do whatever it takes to solve the cases her family takes on. But when Tommy’s beautiful new client turns out to be the highborn lady she’s secretly smitten with, more than her mission is at stake . . . 

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror: Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes—such as the circumspect and resilient “final girl,” body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet—spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world. 

Refusing Compulsory Sexuality: A Black Asexual Lens on Our Sex-Obsessed Culture: Everything you know about sex and asexuality is (probably) wrong. The notion that everyone wants sex–and that we all have to have it–is false. It’s intertwined with our ideas about capitalism, race, gender, and queerness. And it impacts the most marginalized among us. For asexual folks, it means that ace and A-spec identity is often defined by a queerness that’s not queer enough, seen through a lens of perceived lack: lack of pleasure, connection, joy, maturity, and even humanity.

[katakaluptastrophy]

Thinking about how Harrow was brought up knowing what she cost. That her price was the death of her House. How she had to be a perfect necromancer to prove to her parents that cost was worth it.

And thinking about who she asks for help when she is at her most desperate.

Harrow, who has never belonged to herself.

He reached out for your hands. You could not refuse him, and in any case had no choice of doing so; your body reacted long before your mind did, and the meat of your meat and the flesh of your flesh belonged to God.

Harrow, who only ever experienced love as a response to her worthiness.

Her most vivid memory of her mother was of her hands guiding Harrow’s over an inexpertly rendered portion of skull, her fingers encircling the fat baby bracelets of Harrow’s wrists, tightening this cuff to indicate correct technique.

And how that colours her entire perception of kindness. Of what those who try to love her want.

“I would like to give you something,��� said Abigail Pent. This was to Harrowhark. She watched as the capable hands—strong, for a necromancer’s, beautifully formed and with very even nails—took a bit of folded paper from the table. She passed it to her Ninth colleague as though it did not hurt her to give away such precious material.

How John imagines Harrow as his daughter, but can only love her selfishly; her creation a mirror of his own sins.

You’d make a hell of a daughter, Harrowhark. I sometimes indulge in the wish that you’d been mine.

How Abigail, in loco parentis, having exorcised the children that weren't quite her's either so that she could help to keep Harrow safe, wants to comfort her but can't.

Abigail Pent took off her glasses and popped them down into the top fold of her robe. She reached out to touch Harrow’s arm, and Harrow flinched away; she winced a little in sympathetic apology, and removed her hand.

How Harrow is haunted throughout HTN not just by the actual ghost trying to destroy her, but by the memory of her parents, their touch, and by those who for better or for worse want to parent her. Abigail, who loved the children whose planet she was annexing - a fate Harrow viscerally feared. And John, who will show his love for his unexpected daughter by making her an undead construct. However well meaning, Harrow cannot conceive of parental love without possession, without an agenda.

The Emperor set down his tea and finished off his biscuit, and did that terrible thing that he did, on occasion: he reached over to touch your shoulder in that brief, tentative way, the lightest and swiftest of gestures, as though afraid that he might burn you. Your mother had guided your hands over bloating corpses. Your father had held down the corners of great tomes, and his sleeve had brushed your six-year-old-fingers as he showed you how best to turn their pages. Both of them had pressed a rough rope made of coated fibre into your hands—you recalled the pressure from their palms, their attempts to be gentle. When the Emperor touched you, your body recalled, unbidden, each rare and terrible touch committed by your mother and father.

How the one touch Harrow doesn't flinch away from is Ortus, who acknowledges his failure to protect Harrow and wants to make amends.

It was difficult to know what to do with this type of touch. It made her whole soul flinch, but at the same time opened some primeval infant mechanism within her, as though the embrace were a mirror: having someone hold up an image by which you could see yourself, rather than living with an assumption of your face. It was not like the touch of her father or mother. When she had first sat by the tomb in shivering awe, she had fancied that the Body’s ice-ridden fingers had shifted for hers, minutely. Gideon had touched her in truth; Gideon had floundered toward her in the saltwater with that set, unsheathed expression she wore before a fight, her mouth colourless from the cold. Harrow had welcomed her end, but suffered a different death blow altogether—and she had become, for the second time, herself. She untangled from Ortus, more reluctantly than she’d expected.

And now Abigail Pent and Ortus are (probably) dead. Gideon is John's daughter. The Body is Alecto, awake and on the move, meat loving meat.

Desperately hoping that in ATN Harrow and Gideon have an embrace without agenda where they are both simply themselves.

[helplesslyblue77]

You Can't Deny(That Beast Inside)

Genre: Smut, minors dni

Pairing: Hybrid!Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Hybrid!Felix is a golden retriever, Friends to Lovers, heat - Freeform, Breeding Kink, Mentions of pups and all the usual stuff that comes(haha get it lol) with a hybrid au, Dirty Talk, hints of Sub!Felix but its mostly Dom!Felix. He gets a little posessive and crazy but we love it

Notes:

bro i love hybrid au's. they weren't something id ever seen out of the kpop fandom, and ive been in a LOT of fandoms. i wonder why thier so specific to kpop

Felix, your best friend of ten years, your lovable Golden Retriever Hybrid who always smiles and makes time for you no matter what, your crush of so many years is avoiding you. It hurts your heart to admit it but it has to be true.

It started three days ago, when you texted him, asking him to come over for your weekly movie night. You received this in response:

“I'm sorry, I can't make it this week.”

He had never, ever skipped out on your weekly movie night.

You had asked if he was ok, and he had told you he was fine, just a little sick. 

“Can I come over to help?”

You'd texted and promptly been shut down, rather harshly in your opinion. Fine, whatever. 

Ok, so maybe Felix was sick and just didn't want to get you sick as well. You believed that until you saw him at the grocery store, perfectly fine. You marched over to him, intent on giving him a piece of your mind, but to your surprise, he had practically run away from you. Without so much as a greeting. 

So you called Chan. 

“Is Felix avoiding me?”

He coughed and stuttered out. “N-no of course not, why would you think that?”

Chan was a horrible liar. 

“He ran away from me at the grocery store, and he won't answer my texts or calls.”

“He's just sick. It's not too bad, he just doesn't want to get you sick.”

You frowned, “If it's that bad, I should go over there—”

Chan interrupted you.

“No wait, he told us not to let you—”

“WHAT?”

“Wait name don't—”

That infuriated you beyond belief, so he was avoiding you huh?

You hung up, intent on giving him a piece of your mind. 

Too bad for him, you knew his address. So you collected yourself and stormed over there, opening the door with the spare key hidden under the rocks by the porch. The house was silent when you entered, storming down the dark hallway you slammed on the lights, shouting at the top of your lungs. 

“LEE FELIX.”

⊛⊛⊛

Felix felt bad about ignoring you, every minute apart from you tore at his heart, and your sad face as he had all but run away from you at the grocery store haunted him every moment.

But it was for the best. He couldn't be around you when his heat was approaching, it wasn't safe for you. He felt tense as if any minute he could jump on you and take you, with or without your permission and he would rather die than ever mess up your friendship, even if he wanted you, had wanted you for years now. 

Felix had resigned himself to being permanently stuck in the friend zone years ago, and yet he still hoped that one day, you would reciprocate his deep feelings for you, but he knew it was just wishful thinking. 

It had started years ago, these urges, and every heat since then Felix had barred alone, accompanied by only thoughts of you. It was dangerous to be near you when he was so close to his heat, your scent tempted him constantly, the pretty sundresses you wore exposed the crotch of your panties when you bent down, and Felix had to do his best not to take you over the kitchen table, in front of all of his friends.

Even if he knew they would enjoy it(Probably a little too much for their own good.)his sense of possessiveness couldn't let the other see you like that.

But it had been worse lately. You had been babysitting your younger cousin, a baby of only two and Felix had watched in agony as you practically glowed with the baby. He couldn’t help imagining the child was yours and the hybrid side of him longed to put his pups into you.

He knew you would look so good all swollen with his pups, and that was when Felix realized his heat was approaching and he needed to get away from you before he did something potentially disastrous. So he had locked himself in his room, in constant agony and accompanied only by his vivid fantasies of you.

So when he heard your pretty voice, shouting his name at first he thought it was just his fantasies. 

But the longer he listened, the more wrong it sounded. First of all, the tone was all wrong, you sounded furious and it was acconpanied by a loud slamming sound.

And then he smelled you, you're scent too fresh to belong to the small heap of your clothes he had been desperately sniffing. And then his kitchen door slammed and Felix realized you were here. In his house. Less than a wall was separating the two of you. Felix almost came right then and there, your scent overwhelming him as he humped desperately into the mattress, still fully clothed. 

You were stomping around his house, shouting his name and Felix hurriedly pulled himself out of his fantasies and bit his hand so hard it started to bleed.

The sharp burst of pain cleared his hand for a moment and he hurriedly stood up, trying and failing to hide the bulge in his pants, before giving up and taking a deep breath, exiting his bedroom.

You were furious, he could tell as you laid eyes on him, marching right up and planting a finger in his chest. Felix held his breath desperately trying not to lose it as you yelled at him. 

“Lee Felix, how dare you ignore me, your not sick—”

You were still yelling but all Felix could focus on was your pretty face, you looked so radiant when you were mad, and Felix would gladly get on his knees and worship you, let you step on his hard cock with your pretty feet or maybe you would slap him, and call him a pervert. He could be your good boy, he could do that. Or if you wanted he could beg you to sit on his face, he would gladly suffocate in your pussy.

That would feel like heaven.

Or maybe if he begged for it enough you would let him fill your pussy with cum, pumping his pups into you until you were nice and round and full, and—

“Felix! Are you even listening to me?”

Felix could help it, he let out a whimper. You frowned, finally taking in his flushed cheeks, his sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, his wrinkled clothes and most telling of all, the large bulge tenting the front of his gray sweatpants. Your eyes widened, and you stepped back hurriedly. Felix followed you, trying to be as close as possible to you, even if he knew he couldn't have you. You frowned, your back hitting the wall, and parted your pretty lips, asking him a question. 

“Felix? Are you in Heat?”

Felix pressed against you, and buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent in large gulps, trying his best to memorize it before you ran out of the house in disgust.

You shivered a little and Felix groaned as he smelt the sweet smell of arousal emanating from between your thighs. The strings holding his sanity were thin, too close to snapping as you thrashed against him, rubbing your thighs together. You shuddered and ground out a question. 

“Felix? Do you need help? I can get someone—”

“No…”

He moaned out, his voice rough and deep and you whimpered. “Only want you, please…”

His tale swished back and forth, the soft yellow fur catching on your leg and you moaned as his pretty hands gripped your thighs desperately. “You…want me?”

The question came out haltingly, your brain muddled and overcome with arousal. 

Felix nodded against your neck. “Only wanted you, always. I love you.”

You gasped at the admission, your heart full, even as your empty pussy pulsed.

Felix whined against you, the scent of arousal driving him nearly insane. He was about to tell you to leave, you needed to leave before he lost it and fucked you against the wall, but then you grabbed him by the collar, dragging him into his room and shoving him onto the bed. 

“I love you too, Felix.”

He whimpered as you pulled off your shirt and skirt, your panties and bra hitting the floor. He made quick work of his clothes, and you stared greedily at his cock, gulping. 

You realized that Hybrids had, um, bigger dicks than humans, but you had never realized how truly big he was. Just the sight of it made your mouth water desperately, and another time you would have loved to have your mouth on it but right now, you just wanted it inside you, spearing your insides and rendering you nearly dumb.

You could tell Felix wanted the same, even as he waited patiently for you, you could see his impatience in how his hands gripped the sheets, ripping holes and he desperately held himself back, trying to not look too desperate. His tail was wagging back and forth, at an embarrassing rate and all he could see was you. He couldn't believe this was even happening.

After years and years of deserted hopes and dreams of you, he tried to hold on to as he woke to a cold empty bed, you were finally his, not Chans, not Jisung's, his mate.

Felix could smell your arousal scenting the air, and the sight of your naked body was just too much for him. He was about two seconds from just jumping on you and taking you against the floor but thankfully, you ceased his torture and moved on top of him gracefully, lining your entrance up with his tip. 

You were tempted to tease him, he looked too cute with that desperate look in his eyes, his cheeks flushed and his chest heaving up and down with the effort of restraining himself, but you didn't know if you would last, your arousal driving you nearly insane with want. So you spared him, easing down slowly on his cock, taking him one inch at a time. 

He was big, and the stretch was slightly painful but the pain only served to turn you on more, and when you looked down, and saw that only half of him was inside of you, you felt yourself tighten around him. Felix knotted his hands tighter in the blankets, letting you take your time. You felt so good, so tight, the hot walls of your pussy fluttering around him and your pretty moans filling the air.

Felix still half believed this was a dream. 

It took a lot of time, but finally, he was fully inside of you. You felt stuffed, unbelievably full as he pulsed inside of you, and you nearly came there and then as you looked down, noticing the bulge denting your stomach.

Felix was almost gone by now, his hybrid side so close to taking over and all he could think about was fucking you full of his pups, filling his precious mate up completely, and fucking you until you were moaning and screaming dumbly on his cock. 

Before he was completely gone, he made sure to grip your face, turning your eyes to his own. 

“Can I let go?” 

You shuddered, and leaned in, kissing him gently. “Yes, Felix. I'm yours.”

And with those words he was gone.

He lunged forward, gripping you close to him and he pounded your pussy desperately, moans and whimpers filling the air and mixing with your own. He set a ruthless pace, his thick cock felt like it was rearranging your internal organs with each thrust and you didn't think you would ever be able to go back. He had quite literally ruined you for another man. 

“Your mine, m-my mate. The others cant have you.”

At the mention of the others, you almost stopped him, but his words were slurred and desperate, and his possessive nature turned you on. You could almost feel your thoughts slipping away like he was fucking them out of you. 

“Oh Felix, y-yes I'm y-yours…” you interrupted yourself with a loud moan as Felix picked up his thrusts, humping into you with wild abandon. 

This desperate, possessive side of your Felix, who was always sunshine and smiles was new to you. It turned you on beyond belief. You could feel your high coming, feel the tense knot in your groin as Felix fucked you closer and closer to completion. You could feel his thrusts stutter as well.

You tried to warn him. “Felix, ‘m c-coming!”

He mumbled out more nonsense, interspersed with desperate moans as he sucked possessive hickeys into your neck. 

“Make sure the o-others know your mine…fill you up with my c-cum, breed my pretty mate full of my pups…”

His hand makes its way to your clit and you scream, fingernails leaving large scratches on his back. 

His thrusts turn sloppy and he ruts into you desperately, his moans mixing with yours. 

“So pretty, always been so p-pretty, and n-now you're mine.”

You whimper, gripping his shoulders tightly. Your high crashes over you, and you clench around Felix's cock, he stutters, shoving inside you one more time, and moans as he cums. You feel his knot swell inside you, locking his cock inside you as he cums and the extra stretch makes you orgasm a second time, clenching around Felix as he lets out an especially raspy grunt. 

He seems to cum and cum, his hand making its way down to your clit, and he rubs circles into it, prolonging your orgasm. You pull him down, sealing your lips as his cum pumps into your stomach. The kiss is all teeth and tongue and as your orgasm finally dies down, Felix’s still hard cock lodged in your stomach you feel beyond exhausted. Felix collapses on top of you, kissing your neck.

He hugs you fondly, his voice almost shy as he asks you, “Be my girlfriend?”

You giggle a little, how is this the same man who fucked you ruthlessly into the bed and still has his cock lodged inside you. You can tell he's pouting against your neck so you put him out of his misery, wrapping your arms around his naked back. “Oh course Felix.”

His cock is still hard inside of you, and you can feel yourself clench around him. He sounds almost cocky as he teases you. “Are you ready for more, Baby?” 

You slap his back. “How long do heats usually last?”

He smirks, pulling away as his hands and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. 

You wiggle, clenching around him. 

“About a week.”

You moan as he flips you around, entering you again from the back even as his cum drips down your thighs, wetting the bed below you. You're in for a long week. 

originally posted on ao3 on 2023-06-04

reposted on ao3 on 2023-06-08

[stevenssticks]

I'M GOING THROUGH A BRAINROT THINKING ABOUT VIRGIN EARLY METALLICA JAMES HETFIELD

Our boy didn't had the best parents and as the Man himself Said, he grew up being way too sheltered from the world so Can you guys imagine How fucking pent up, excited and desperate This Man might have been to get his First lay?

And his first lay Being his dear girl best friend, literally the only girl who he knows that's not with him because of the Band because she's been there pretty much since day one for him, growing up together, living Just some houses away from each other and hanging out almost all day everyday until and helping him with his struggles back home.

Needless to say that James Fell First and fell hard and he has been like This since you guys were 15 at least (bro had been simping for longer than he would like to admit), even If he took notice of the way that you made him feel back in those years, It was easier to blame puberty....but things didn't mellow out after This at all, in fact, It only got worse as the years went by, the wholesome daydreaming of curious childish kisses turning into wet and sticky nights where our Young man would be haunted by the most lascivous and erotic dreams with his sweetheart that would lead to him eventually losing sleep and spending almost the whole night desperatly touching himself, chasing after a relief that never seemed to really saciate him completely, not even porn magazines or tapes could help him out because they weren't his girl (possessive baby before even making the First move)

It took him Being away for some time, getting the band stuff going and coming back to his Sweet friend all Grown up and more than eager to welcome him back home to finally break

He would be so desperate for her, so pent up and aroused by her simply embracing him in a hug that he couldn't help the groan that left his mouth as he burried his face on the crook of her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly close to his body, much to her joy that finally realised that all These years he was in love with her as much as she was in love with him, she Just didn't expected to Discover This via a raging boner poking against her tummy

(Someone pray for his sweetheart, our boy still don't know he's a bigger and thiccer than the average)

this just made me let out a noise that i will never let myself live down omg......

james would be allllll over you when he finally gets you in his bed. desperately pawing at you barely even getting his pants down to fuck you. he would be moaning in your ear telling you how good he feels and how he's waited for this for so long. how much he loves you and wants you to really feel it. he would fuck you into the mattress bc hes so wound up and feral for you but oh does he love on you the whole time. chests pressed tight together, your legs around his waist and ur holding his hands at the sides of your head<3333

him cumming embarrassingly quick and just going down to eat your pussy after bc he didn't make you cum and he needs to see it. needs to see you fall apart for him. and then he gets hard again bc our baby has STAMINA okay he's like 19-20 ish, and winds up rutting into the bed until he cums for a second time while he sucks on your clit until you lock your legs around his head and cum into his mouth.

young james young james young james

[csilis]

Five Nights At Freddy's William Afton x F!Reader A/N: The continution of Until Death Do Us Part, but can be read separetely. And yes, this one is longer. But at least the characters are talking now.

You left him in that backroom, choking on his blood and dying, never looking back. Still, that night haunted your dreams in ways you could never imagine. There was deep inside a part of you that genuinely loved that man. A part that thought he was only just broken and needed to be mended. But you buried it deep, only letting that part’s guilt torment you in your dreams.

What you knew is that when the management found him in the morning they decided to seal off that room and forget that William Afton ever existed. You wished you could erase him from your life just like they did from theirs.

To avenge your little sister, Cassidy, you had to become a monster just like him. You had to dirty your hands, be his partner in crime. It was the only way to make him think you madly loved him. And when the perfect moment came you betrayed him and took your revenge.

After making peace with what you’ve done, you thought it was finally over. But fate is a funny thing after all. Forgetting that knowing him, he will definitely return one day, you spent the next ten years helping those who have been wronged by William. And boy, it was a long list.

But in the end you circled back to this shithole as you realised that since that day, you didn’t get any older. Like as if you stopped aging. So you went back to his old house for his research papers, thinking that you might find some kind of answers in them.

In his old house you found his son, Michael. He wasn’t looking like he used to be when you two briefly met all those years ago. But you could tell that he’s been through hell. Maybe even worse than that because now he was a ghost, possessing his own rotting body.

He was also surprised to see that you haven’t aged at all. But wasn’t that really when he heard your story of you taking your revenge.

“That fucker deserved it. Maybe even more” That was Michael’s honest reaction to your story. You could only laugh at his response. He then offended to help, thinking that you deserved the same peace just like everyone else.

After looking around, you two found his old notes about the why and how of his killing spree over the years. What started as a promise to put his own damned child back together ended up in the death of many others, so that he could make remnant out of them, thinking that will bring back the children he have lost. On the last pages of the notebook he even wrote about you. It wasn’t what you thought he would write. Professing eternal love so deep that he even thought about just quitting altogether to start a new life with you. But you knew it well that he was way too deep for that. 

Nevertheless you were surprised as you always thought he too played the part of a man madly in love with his woman. You thought this was a game where the one who fools the other sooner wins. But it was not the case. He genuinely loved you. That bastard! 

In the end what you two come up with that the remnant must be keeping you in the same age, making you some kind of immortal. But when that night you dreamt about your sister, you realised. Cassidy was the one keeping you this way, so when Afton comes back you will have the strength to put an end to this.

So you spent the next two decades trying to think of ways how to kill him for good. Send his soul to hell. Hell… that’s what you needed. To burn him until nothing remains.

Soon, 30 years have passed since your cursed wedding at the backroom of the Freddy Fazebear’s pizzeria. And when that same place is reopened as a horror attraction, you knew he will soon be back. So you and Michael signed up for the night guard job and planned how you two are gonna end it.

On the second night he was there and your heart started to beat faster even at the sight of him. Though you didn’t really see anything as he tried to hide from the cameras the best he could. 

“Do you wanna meet him?” Michael asked while looking at you. He knew the history you two shared more than anyone.

“Not now” you quietly said. You then pushed the button and the laughing of children could be heard in the next room, where William soon headed because of the programming of his suit.

“He looks so trapped in that suit. Hm… Let’s call this amalgamation Springtrap” came up Michael with the name idea as you two were sitting bored in the office.

“Fitting” you nod in agreement as you turn a page in your favourite book. Hours pass and you are still reading as Michael fell asleep on the desk, while watching the monitors. Noticing this, you put your book down, deciding it would be time to meet your cursed husband.

Walking past the monitors, you take note where he is now and continue your journey towards that way. Picking up the taser you confidently walked through the halls of the horror attraction.

When you close your eyes and go to sleep And it's down to the sound of a heartbeat

When you heard the song coming from the speakers throughout the whole building, you froze for a minute, only to realise that Michael was up and signalling this by playing the same song you've been dancing to with William on your first date.

"Fuck you Michael" you quietly stated as you composed yourself and took a deep breath as you turned right in the end of the corridor to come face to face with your husband.

He takes a good look at you, his mechanical eyes focusing on your unaged face. Even though 30 years has passed, you were still the same. Not like him. His suit rotted away, leaving even more wires and springs to be exposed. You could see through the holes how his flesh stuck to the metal, making him one with the suit.

You could hear the clancing of the gears as he tried to open his mouth, no doubt to speak to you. But it soon came to a halt as the rusty metal did not let him do what he wanted. However, he was William, so he continued anyway.

"It's been... been... a while" he finally managed to say, his quiet words loudly echoing between these walls. You did not say anything. He didn't deserved to hear your voice. "It took... took me long to... to realise. You are... the sister... the sister of Cas..."

"DON'T YOU DARE TO MENTION HER NAME!" you exploded, anger apparent on your cheeks as you held the taser higher and ignited it, electricity cracking between the two tiny metal rods. "She was just a child and you...!" you yelled, tears threatening too fall even after so many years. But you had to keep your shit together. "You gutted her like an animal and stuffed her into one of the suits" your voice dropped and became so calm that even William was suprised by it.

"So revenge... it is."

"The word revenge cannot even give you what I've planned for you. This time I will send your soul straight to hell and stay there to torture it until the end of time" you said, laughing leaving your lips as you took some steps towards him. You weren't afraid. From him? Never.

As you advanced towards William Afton, a sense of determination and purpose welled up within you. The past three decades had been a relentless pursuit of revenge, and now the moment of reckoning was at hand.

"That... that will be... heaven then" he smiled, or at least attempted to smile. "Because... I get to be with you... forever"

You couldn't believe the audacity of his words. Even now, he clung to the delusion that he could be with you for eternity. It was sickening.

"You are truly mad, Afton" you whispered, your voice dripping with contempt.

"Don't say... that you are... not..." he said and you had to admit that he was right. He infected you and now you were just as insane and bloodthirsty.

"I'm not saying it, love" you quietly answered, not even noticing that the part which still loved him was showing.

With a swift movement, you lunged at Springtrap, ready to push the taser into his suit, but your attempt was short-lived as he quckly grabbed your waist.

"You... can't... escape me" he wheezed, his words coming out in painful gasps. "We'll... be together... always..."

"Always, Afton?" you scoffed, your anger boiling over. "The only thing that will be eternal is your torment in the deepest, darkest pits of hell."

"I... I love... when you... determined like... like this" he whispered, pulling you close and giving you some kind of twisted kiss. And the worst part was... that you liked it.

You tell me that you want me You tell me that you need me

The song still went on and it made you even more unsure of your feelings right now. Conflicting emotions coursed through you. The memories of your twisted relationship with Afton, the years of seeking revenge, and the disturbing connection you still felt for him... it all clashed.

As the song played on, you found yourself grappling uncertainty. Afton's words and the sensation of his touch stirred something deep within you, a part of you that somehow loved him. But you couldn't allow that vulnerability to cloud your judgment.

So you had to trick him once again. So you kissed him back, knowing that this was the only way to get close enough to carry out your plan. As you deepened the kiss, you could see the surprise in Afton's mechanical eyes. He believed he had won you over with his twisted charm, but little did he know that this was your opportunity to get the upper hand. You could taste the desperation in his kiss, the longing for a love that could never be.

"You were always good at playing games, love. But the rules have changed since then..." Breaking away from the kiss, you reached for the taser with your free hand. You had to end this, for now at least. So you pressed the taser against his rotting flesh and activated it.

You watched him silently suffer from the electicity and twitch uncontollably. It felt great.

"You will... will be... back..." he whispered to you in pain. "Because you... you always come back... back to me" he then despite the pain managed to laugh before he shortcircuited and fell to the floor.

"Two down. Four more nights to go" you said turning around and going back into the office. You will make his life a living hell, here... and the other side too once you burned this fucking place down.

Word counter: 1857 Characters: 10037

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Could we maybe see Brahms x a reader who has a porcelain doll of a young girl that’s actually haunted? I think it’d be a really cool pov!

Also, hope you don’t mind that I’m an anon, scared I’ll get made fun of for sending this ask if I ask using my acc lol-

Aww don't worry, we've all been there

This may have ended up being a bit rambly but I hope you enjoy it :)

Brahms with an s/o who owns a real haunted doll

When you came into Brahms‘ life, you didn‘t even notice anything off in the house. Mostly because you came with baggage of your own. It was a lovely porcelain doll you had bought at a garage sale many years ago. You had named her Lizzy, because she looked like a Lizzy to you. You felt like it wasn‘t just a childlike whim that made you give her that name, but a feeling deep in your chest that this was her name, whether you liked it or not, so might as well go with it. You had brought her with you because the very same part of you was convinced that abandoning her would be the same as abandoning an actual child; an act of cruelty that would almost defy description.

Strange thing always happened around Lizzy. So when these strange things just kept happening at the Heelshire estate, you naturally assumed that your doll was the culprit. When you heard about the origins of Brahms the doll, you came to the further conclusion that Brahms was just as lively as Lizzy, also possessed by the spirit of a child who had been taken from the world way too soon.

You often had Brahms and Lizzy sit together, joking that they could be best friends. But whenever you turned your back, Lizzy would be closer to you and Brahms would be nowhere to be seen.

So clearly, Lizzy and Brahms didn‘t like each other.

You would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and find Lizzy next to you in bed, pressed against your body like a frightened child seeking comfort in their parents‘ bed, and her face wet like she had been crying.

Most of the time, you would doze off again and upon waking up, would find Lizzy tossed onto a nearby chair, as if someone really wanted to shatter her on the floor but had stopped themself just in time and tossed her into the nearest soft surface instead. After incidents like this, Lizzy tended to radiate sadness and fear for a while, another feeling she was causing deep within the very core of your being.

At some point though, when you woke up yet again with Lizzy cradled in your arms, you said loudly and clearly:„Brahms, please, stop bullying Lizzy. She is just a little girl.“

You, of course, had no way to prove that whatever entity was possessing your beloved doll was a little girl, but it sure behaved like one.

There was the sound of movement in the wall, and a little boy‘s voice replied:„You are supposed to be taking care of me. Not her.“

You got curious. The voice absolutely came from the wall. You looked over to the door, knowing that Brahms‘ room was nearby and that you had tucked in the doll you assumed contained his ghost hours ago.

But ghosts didn‘t speak so clearly; they whispered hoarsely and so quietly that one could barely hear it. Lizzy sometimes spoke to you, but so softly that most of the time you can‘t figure out if you really heard or just imagined it.

„I can take care of both of you“, you promised. You had a feeling…

It had never been the same with Brahms‘ doll. He had never felt like anything other than a doll. Sure he had moved when you turned your back, but he didn‘t radiate anything, no feelings.

„Won‘t you come out?“

Months passed, and now that Brahms had revealed himself to you, you found your way into a new kind of normalcy.

He evidently still didn‘t particularly like Lizzy, but he loved you enough to tolerate her. He even seemed to find her antics quite interesting at times.

One day he came running to you, Lizzy in his arms. „Lizzy just talked to me!“ „Yeah, she does that sometimes. What did she say?“

He looked down onto Lizzy‘s soft porcelain face. „She said ‚Thank you for being so nice to them‘.“

You smiled. Seeing these two, doll with the little girl inside it and the man behind the other doll finally get along warmed your heart.

[dp-marvel94]

Face to Face - Epilogue

Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did

First -> Last

Word Count: 5,791

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note: Hi friends! It's been a while. Honestly, I was putting off posting this, the last chapter of Face to Face, because it intimidated me. 😅 But I really wanted to wrap this up by the end of the year. So we're finally here! I'm so excited to share the ending with you guys.

Also in honor of finishing this fic, I wanted to share this loving art made by @lilianade-comics on Tumblr. Check out this lovely scene from chapter 51 here!

Happy Reading!

Six months later.

“I must have been here a dozen times at least. And your lair still surprises me every time.” Sidney said, eyes surveying the room.

Danny leaned back on his couch, giving a chuckle. “Hey, I’m just working with what I have. I think the Hobbit vibes are pretty cool.”

“I figured you would want something more modern and sci fi.” His friend shrugged.

The halfa raised a brow. “Like an underground bunker? Nah.” He shook his head. “As cool as quarters on the Enterprise would be, or the inside of the TARDIS…. It just didn’t feel right. Plus,” He shrugged. “I like to be comfy.”

“It is definitely that.”

True to what Danny had imagined all those months ago, the underground house was cozy, warm, and homey. Wooden floors and paneling. Circular rooms and round doorways. The furniture was simple, warm, reddish maple-wood beds, chairs, and sofas accenting each room. Multiple rugs covered the floors and carefully selected books filled one book shelf. Other decorative objects and nick-nacks covered the walls, end tables, and other surfaces. 

Some were brought from the material realm. One of his model rockets. A blob ghost plush that had been made by his dad. A Black orchid, a gift from Sam, sat in one corner, a Femalien Poster from Tucker on the wall above it. A shadow box with tickets and a glossy photo of the siblings, smiling in their bowties and fezzes with a certain actor; for Christmas his sister had bought him tickets to Comic Con and a Meet and Greet with Doctor Who actor Matt Smith.

Some objects were picked up from various trips through the Realms. There was a black and white lamp from Sidney’s lair that gave off gray light. A drum head on the wall sported an animated image of blue fire; he’d gotten that when Johnny and Kitty had taken him to see their friend Ember perform.

And some were manifested by the lair itself. A painting of a The Library with swirling spectral clouds in the background. Snow globes from different places he’d visited: Sid’s lair, The Library, Dora’s kingdom, Ember’s concert hall venue. And…. the halfa smiled softly at this last object… photo of his family and two best friends, Danny grinning in the middle in ghost form.

“Jeepers! What is this?!” Sidney’s voice interrupted the half ghost’s musing. 

Danny’s gaze flickered to the object of his friend’s attention. “Oh. That? It was a Christmas present from Mom.” He jabbed a thumb at the kitchen counter where a ceramic cookie jar sported half a dozen eyes and pointy teeth around the lid, threatening approaching hands. He grinned. “It’s a Mimic.”

“A Mimic…” For just a moment, Sidney’s black and white brow wrinkled. Then… “Like from that Dungeon and Dragons game Tucker told me about?!” 

“Yep.” Danny nodded.

“Fighting a monster like that… that must be the bee’s knees!” The half ghost could practically see the stars in his friend’s eyes.

“You’re still invited to our games any time you want to join.” Danny raised a brow.

“This section of the Realms needs its own group.” Sidney crossed his arms, pouting slightly.

“Dora might like it… and Ember.” The half ghost grinned toothily. “She’s already literally a bard.” He tapped his chin. “Maybe we can get Ghost Writer to let us use a room in his lair.”

“The Library is not the most convenient location though; it’s far away from everyone but me.” 

“Hum.” Danny’s brow furrowed, considering. “That’s fair.” Sidney’s lair was the closest to the Library by far. But the other’s…. Ember’s lair was about the same distance from the portal as Sidney’s, except in the exact opposite direction. And Dora’s lair was vaguely below his, a leisurely forty-five minute flight down. If anything…. Danny blinked. “I’m in the middle.”

“You sure are, buster.” Sidney raised a brow, looking at him as if it was obvious.

The half ghost took a second to process and then laughed. “It’s always like that, huh?” 

Getting in between the Lunch Lady and his friends. Helping Dora and other ghosts get back to the portal. Making friends with people in this part of the Zone. He rolled his eyes at the irony. The literal half ghost always stuck in the middle. Or rather… maybe he’d chosen to place himself there.

“So I guess we’d meet here. Or…” An idea had been swimming around in his head. A place for the ghosts on this side of the portal to gather, to bond, to help each other and…. “So I’d been thinking-”

Just then, the black rectangular device clipped to the belt of Danny’s suit chimed. “Oh. That’s probably my parents.” He detached the communicator– made by his parents, with Tucker’s help, to work across dimensions and designed to look like the ones from Star Trek–  and flipped it open.

His brow furrowed. “I’m not late for dinner, am I? Didn’t think I’d been gone that long.”

“No sweetie.” His mom’s voice sounded from the other end. “I’m sorry to interrupt your hang-out with Sidney. But Mr. Jenkins called from the Salvage Yard about a ghost problem.”

The boy sighed, head rolling back on the couch to look up at the ceiling. “Is it Technus again?”

“It sounded like it.” The wince was almost audible in her voice. “Your father and I would go but Mr. Jenkins asked for Phantom… very insistently.” 

Another sigh. “I’ll be right there.” Danny hung up, putting the communicator back on his belt before burying his head in his hand.

“Technus again?” Sidney rose a brow.

The halfa looked up, fixing an eye on his friend. “ I mean, I’m fine with him hanging out in the material world and tinkering with stuff. But…” The halfa groaned. “He keeps trying to blow things up the salvage yard.”

The ghostly nerd chuckled. “All that new fangled modern technology…. That beatnik must think he died and gone to heaven.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “He will if I have to tell him to stop stealing other people’s stuff one more time.”

Sidney shook his head. “You know it’s hard to keep a ghost from his obsession.” Then tapping his chin, he mused. “But maybe if he had his own place to experiment…”

“Hum…” Danny furrowed his brow, considering. He floated up. “Gotta go.” He pointed at the black and white ghost. “I’m serious, you should come to our D&D games next Saturday. Think about it?”

“I will.” The other ghost nodded, also rising. “See you later.”

The two exited through the lair’s door, Sidney flying into the green atmosphere of the Zone. Danny flew up, towards the portal. The clear dome around the structure parted with his presence and he entered. 

The boy drifted over the carefully cultivated plants, a particularly energetic snap-dragon snapping at his heel. “Hey! I don’t have time to play right now.” He bent down, patting the petly approximation of a draconic head. 

Danny stood again and continued, passing the beds of black lettuce. A ghostly blue lizard darted between the squash vines. In the flowering tiger shrub, a tiny green bird cooed. Other plants were scattered over the area, glowing insects, some as large as his fist, buzzing over them. The boy couldn’t help but smile. Only six months and there was already so much after-life here on his little island. 

The half ghost arrived in the middle, the frame of the portal surprisingly at home among the vegetation. Though… green no longer swirled in the frame; instead, black and yellow painted doors blocked the entrance. His parents had installed a set on either side to keep out unwanted visitors. 

But Danny, of course, wasn’t an unwanted visitor. With a quick scan of his palm on the panel beside the door, they parted. He flew through, just as the doors on the human-world side opened too.

At the sound, both parents looked up from their work. “Danny-boy!” His dad smiled with a wave. “You want one of us to come with you?”

“Nah. I’m just gonna try and talk to Technus again.” The halfa waved off the concern. He floated up, towards the ceiling. 

His dad looked almost disappointed at the decline; trust Jack Fenton to always be ready and eager to soak an annoyance in ectoplasmic goo, whether they were ghost or human. Still both adults accepted the statement.

“Knock his socks off, son! And be careful!” “We’ll do great, sweetie! Call us if you need anything!” 

With his parents’ words of encouragement rising in his ears, Danny phased through the ceiling and zoomed off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Banging, clanging, and shouting rang through Mr. Jenkins’ Salvage Yard. 

“It’s finished!” Maniacal laughing sounded “Finally finished! I-”

“Finished?! What in tarnation even is-.” A sudden crash. “Woah!’” 

“Ah. A few more finishing touches and…” A sparking, sizzling hiss…

“Where did you get a welding gun? Wait! Is that my coffee maker?!”

The ghost scoffed. “It’s not like you were using it.”

“I used it this mornin’, you-” 

Danny arrived just as Technus flipped up his face shield. “Tada! My greatest creation!” The ghost spread his arms, grinning proudly.

“You stole my French Press!” Mr. Jenkins yelled.

“Ghost Child!” The adult ghost ignored him, eyes lighting up at Phantom’s arrival. “You arrived just in time to watch!”

Danny fixed Technus with a skeptical look. “What’s going on here?”

“As I was saying, I Technus! Master of all things electronic and beeping have finished my greatest creation yet!” The ghost motioned again, to a tracker-trailer sized collection of mismatched metal parts. 

Well, that wasn’t here the last time. “Technus… where did you get all this stuff?”

Just then, a frantic woman came running out of the square building sitting among all the old cars. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Jenkins. I don’t understand how, but the office phone is gone. So are the fax machine and the microwave. And all the computers and-” Her eyes widened, voice squeaking as she spotted Technus. “Not you again!”

“That’s my computer?!” Jenkin’s eyes bulged, his face turning red. “I already told you, this ain’t a junkyard. You can’t take whatever you want!”

“These machines are just sitting here, wasting away! I had to do something with all this beautiful technology.” 

“What’s it even supposed to be!?” 

“An ingenious invention! And greatly needed!” The green skinned ghost held a finger up. “What kind of junk yard doesn’t have a car-crusher?”

“You’re nuttier than a fruitcake.” Jenkins pointed accusingly at Technus. “This ain’t no junk yard! We’re a salvage yard. We sell used parts!”

“Salvage yard.” Technus rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You’re just jealous of my brilliance, old man!”

“At least I made it past half a century!” The older man spat.

“I, Technus! Made it to 52, thank you very much! 52 years and then felled by my own unstable experiment! Oh, to die in the pursuit of science! What a glorious send-off! And don’t you know about that, Halfa child! Still wearing that hip and sweet hazmat suit-”

“We are not talking about my death.” Danny interrupted pointedly. “Now-”

“Of course! Enough of this. You came to see my genius!” The mad scientist darted around the metal monstrosity, lab coat flapping behind him.

“Phantom! Stop him!” Mr. Jenkins cried.

“You heard him, Technus.” The ghost boy crossed his arms. “Don’t make me get out the thermos.”

The older ghost ignored the reprimanded, eagerly grabbing at the machine’s controls. “First! The claw will shoot out and snag the car we want. Now which one…” His brow furrowed, then turning and pointing at a red, old-looking convertible. “Ah! That sad sorry hunk of junk will do.”

“Technus! We talked about this!” Danny drove forward, arms out to pull the other ghost away from the controls.

At the same time… “ No! That’s-” Mr. Jenkins sounded panicked. 

Danny surged forward but faster than he could process, the mad scientist blinked out of the way. He missed, tumbling in the air and barely missing the side of the car-crushed machine. 

The clawed arm lashed out, clamping around the truck. The metal fingers snapped closed with an agonizing crunch of metal and glass. 

“Must be out of practice.” Danny mumbled. Then, he lit his hands with ecto-energy, “Technus, I’m warning you!” 

“And now! My hyper-efficient car-crusher will reduce this rust bucket to scrap in seconds!” The other ghost laughed maniacally, jamming one of the lever’s down.

“No! No! No!” Mr. Jenkins sounded near… tears?

The arm pulled the car forward, the headlights meeting the jaws of the crusher with a stomach-turning crunch.

“Look! My funky fresh creation is working perfectly!” 

The ghost boy let his shot lose, the ecto-energy knocking the other ghost away.

“No! That’s my car!!” Mr. Jenkins fell to his knees.

Danny darted in front of the control panel. His eyes widened. So many buttons, nobs, and levers…. Lights blinked in front of him. Frantic, the boy jabbed at different controls. 

“My Oldsmobile!” Beside him, Mr. Jenkins was definitely crying. “That was Pa’s. Me and Pa fixed it up before he passed. No!”

The halfa’s eyes flashed. “How do you turn this thing off?” He turned to the other ghost, demanding.

Technus floated there for a moment, eyes wide and startled. He stared, the previous mad joy completely evaporated, even as he took in his invention. After a blink, his gaze moved from the machine to the devastated human man. The ghost’s face scrunched up, brow wrinkling. Then…

He flew back to the controls. Wordlessly, the mad scientist pushed a series of buttons, metal crunching uglily all the while. He pulled a final lever and the sound of gears and breaking glass stopped.

Quiet fell and Danny sighed, shoulders untensing. Still, he nervously fingered at the thermo’s lid. “Technus, you know I don’t have any problem with you hanging around Amity Park. Tinkering by itself is fine. But when you start taking other people’s things and destroying property…. I can’t let that stand.”

“But it’s just an old car…” The older ghost fixed his head down, voice oddly subdued.

“It’s Mr. Jenkins’ car.” Danny pointed. “It belongs to him.” His tone sharpened. “I wouldn’t come in your lair and mess with your laboratory. Take your inventions without asking. You can’t do that to Mr. Jenkins.”

A long, tense pause fell over the yard. The sound of gravel shifting at the human man stood, as his assistant nervously shuffled. Danny could feel both adult’s eyes on him but his own gaze was fixed on the ghost and his tight, unreadable expression. Technus had stopped the crusher but… why? Did he understand? The boy’s stomach turned, anxiously hoping. That the ghost had listened, that he could find a peaceful resolution. 

Technus’s grip on the control panel’s levers tightened. “It seems, I, Technus, made an error. The first tenant of the scientific method…. I failed to gather all the important background information.”

Mr. Jenkins looked up, angrily whipping his face. “You don’t say.”

“I got so excited, I forgot to ask for permission to use the junk…��

“Hey! It’s not-” The human started objecting.

“Or to think about whether the invention would be useful here. I mean, who ever heard of a junkyard without a car-crusher? But apparently, you don’t need one. Which does not make any sense to me. Still, I should not have taken your things and-”

“That’s all fine and good. But my car’s still trashed.” Jenkins interrupted, scowling at the crushed vehicle.

“An honest mistake.” Technus winced. “And…” He held up a finger. “Give me a second.” He darted over to the wreckage. “Here, let me…” 

The mad scientist ghost waved his hands over the debris. His aura sparked, spreading out and enveloping the twisted metal and shards of glass. The pieces trembled slightly, rising with a jerk. Technus’ fingers moved as if he was counting, typing, or playing an instrument. The wreckage floated and flowed, swirling in the air and coming together. It coalesced into…

“Well I’ll be damned.” Mr. Jenkins said breathily.

Danny’s eyes widened, just as amazed. “How? You… you-”

“Fixed it!” Technus swung around, arms spread. “I fixed it!”

Sure enough, the car sat in front of them, whole and intact.

The on-lookers just blinked for a long moment. Then…

“My car!” Mr. Jenkins practically ran forward. “Bessie! You’re alright!” He flopped onto the hood, arms spreading wide as if hugging the vehicle. “Better than alright!” Eyes wide and gleeful, he wiped at a spot over the headlights. “That blasted scratch is gone!” 

The human man kept cooing over his car and Danny laughed. “He’s worse than my dad with the GEV.” The boy rolled his eyes. Then… “Seriously though. Putting it back together like that…. that was incredible, Technus. Thank you for fixing this.” 

“Pst.” The ghost shrugged off the thanks. “It was child’s play!” He laughed almost maniacally.

“Can you uh… put back the rest of the office?” The assistant asked meekly.

Technus’ eyes flickered to her, briefly looking disappointed, before he scoffed. “Can I put the rest of the office back?” He waved his arms, green light again spreading and enveloping the metal pieces. “Easier than differential calculus. Can I, Technus, master of all things mechanical, put it back? Please.”

The different pieces separated, flying off in seemingly random directions, while the mad scientist mumbled to himself.

Meanwhile, Mr. Jenkins looked up from his car. “I didn’t know you could fix things like this, Technus. Incredible!” He popped open the trunk, gaze flickering over the various parts. “She’s as good as new.” He reached inside, tapping something. “Say. One of the new tow-trucks is acting squirrely. Some kind of malfunction with that fancy new, space-age onboard computers. Can’t make head ‘r tails of it. Take a look and maybe I can find some spare parts for you to tinker with.”

Parts continued to swirl away, the car-crusher growing smaller and smaller. Technus tapped his chin. “Is this a problem worthy of I! Technus’ vast expertise!?”

For a moment, both Mr. Jenkins and his assistant looked worried, concerned eyes searching Danny. 

The ghost boy nodded sagely. “Of course! Computer technology is so advanced now. Especially in cars! They definitely need someone as genius as you to fix it. Plus free parts!” The half ghost spread his arms. “You can’t pass up a deal like that!”

“You’re right, Ghost Child!” With a final flourish, the last remnants of the disastrous car crusher vanished, the components returning to their proper places. “Come Jenkins!” The mad scientist quickly floated away. “Show me this tow-truck!”

“Not so fast! We mere humans can’t fly!” The human man jogged after. 

Danny gave another chuckle at the pair. He flew after them. 

“Here it is.” Mr. Jenkins panted, motioning to the car. He unlocked the door and slid into the seat. “The problem is, anytime I start up the car…” He pressed the ignition. “See?”

The ghost nodded from where he leaned over, observing. “Ah! That is confounding! First, let me try…”

The half ghost watched two for several minutes. His eyes slowly widened, anxious core lossening. The two talked and hypothesized, bouncing ideas off of each other.

“Try it again.” Technus instructed.

Mr. Jenkins pressed the start button again. A pause. “Well, I’ll be.”

The mad scientist laughed. “I told you, old geezer. No electronical problem can overcome my genius!”

The human rolled his eyes, good naturedly. “Old geezer? Ya didn’t know what a computer was until last month.”

They were… getting along? “This is great! See.” Danny gave an encouraging smile and spread his arms. “Technus can help you out with stuff like this and you can give him some spare parts to work with. How does that sound, Mr Jenkins? Technus?”

The human tapped his chin. “You know, my brother’s got an auto shop. He’s always needin’ help. Maybe we can work something out.”

“I’m listening…” The green-skinned ghost nodded, face serious. Even as his aura flickered excitedly.

“I’ll give Perry a call and…”

The two talked for a few more minutes. Hope bloomed in Danny’s heart, a smile slowly parting his lips. They had this. Coming up with a compromise together. Without him. In fact…

The ghost boy turned to leave. “I’m going to go check on your assistant and everything in the office. Shout if you need me.”

The two barely acknowledged him, simply waving as they both chuckled over something. 

Danny flew away, shaking his head. Moments later, he knocked at the office door. “It’s Phantom.”

There was a shout to enter and the boy did so. His eyes flickered over the room. Slightly disarrayed but… there was the microwave, the phone, the computer.

The assistant looked up from the desk. “Mr. Jenkins is okay, right? I haven’t heard any screaming recently.”

Danny laughed. “Yeah, he’s fine. Him and Technus are working out tech-help for spare parts.”

The woman blanched. “Is that wise?”

The boy nodded. “Giving the guy something to focus on will be good for him. And I’m sure Mr. Jenkins could use the help.”

The assistant’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “I guess you have a point.” Her face smoothed out, smiling gratefully at him. “Thank you, by the way, for coming and helping with all this.” 

“It’s just what I do.” Danny shrugged. “No big deal.”

 “Seriously. This all wouldn’t still be standing without you.” She motioned around her vaguely. “We’d be in a mess without you, Phantom.”

“Well then…” The boy blushed at the praise. “You’re welcome… uh, I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Nancy.” She smiled.

“Nancy.” Danny gave a nod. “Everything’s good here so I’m going to head out. Give FentonWorks a call if you need anything.”

“I will.” 

With a wave, the half ghost drifted up and phased through the ceiling. He flew over the salvage yard, catching a glimpse of the two men, one human and one ghost. Mr. Jenkins leaned against the vehicle, arms crossed casually. Technus floated, head lifted to the sky. His unique brand of laughter carried on the wind, the human’s hearty chuckle just as real and vibrant below it.

Danny beamed down at the scene. “Yeah. They’re going to be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny returned home to his ghost researcher parents, both proudly congratulating him on peacefully dealing with Technus. After which of course, both had to blather on about their latest inventions. The boy fondly rolled his eyes.

He tried to invisibly sneak up on his big sister, the super-powered little brother’s prerogative. To his chagrin, he was unsuccessful though; before he could even think of turning her chair intangible, she turned the spray bottle on him like he was a misbehaving cat. 

He logged onto Doom and played with his best friends. The boss of the current level decimated their party three times before they gave up for now and started on a new side quest. All the while, they talked about new movies, rumors and gossip at school, Ember’s upcoming concert, and convincing Sidney to join them for D&D.

Family and friends. Ghosts and humans and the two somehow, miraculously existing together. All this and more, in a day in the life of a half ghost. 

And now, during the darkest part of the night, that eerie time between the late night and early morning, the Haunting Hour. Now, Danny Fenton-Phantom floated on his back, suspended in the air above the Ops Center.

Blobby snuggled against him, tiny paws kneading biscuits into his side. The smaller ghost purred loudly, now firmly settled into something between a very cat-like blob and a blob-like cat. The boy gently stroked his pet, idly scrolling through his phone. 

A text notification pinged and Danny laughed, typing back.

Danny: that’s the most cursed meme i’ve ever seen

Another cursed follow up. And another. Danny snorted, sending his own.

Tucker: 😵 ☠️ Deed. Y u stil up thoigh?

Danny: Dude it’s spooky hour. Getting my haunt on.

Tucker: U lucky basterd. Ony need 4 hrs of skeep

Danny: 😜 Y r u still up?

Tucker: Doom. newd new armor. 

Tucker: 😵 stupd skelton killed me😭

Danny: Go to sleep!

Tucker: Neverrttt5454er66wreeqwsd

Danny: ?

Tucker: dropped phome on my face

Tucker: maybe i shoud slep

Danny: You think? 🤨

Tucker: One more meme!

Tucker: Phantomceiling.mov

Tucker: wrong file. 😴🥱😫 Sry. Gd night Danny

Danny laughed softly, shaking his head at his sleepy friend. He could imagine it, Tucker half-way across town, drifting off at his computer, gaming with one hand and texting with the other. No wonder the skeletons, the freaking easiest monster in the game, managed to kill him. 

And he sent a random video? Danny tilted his head at the file name, pressing play.

“Woah!” Tucker’s excited voice cheered. 

The camera shifted wildly, a blurry tan surface covering the screen. The crispness of the image wavered, in and out until…. tiny, glow-in-the-dark stars shifted into focus. On the… ceiling? Why did Tucker have a video of his bedroom ceiling?

“I can’t even believe this, I’m floating!” This friend’s voice cheered. 

The half ghost’s eyes widened, suddenly remembering. This video, the one Tucker made while swinging from the ceiling. Meaning….

The image titled, pointed directly above and…  Black suit, white hair, sparkling green eyes paned into view. Danny felt his heart squeeze.

“Say hi, Danny.” Tucker laughed. 

“Hi Danny.” The ghost stuck out his tongue, giving a wave.

“Hi Phantom.” The boy smiled softly, waving back.

This video… he’d forgotten about it completely. Hadn’t even realized they had any video from when he was split, all those months ago. And now…

On the screen, Tucker grunted in effort, Phantom’s face deceptively even, eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth.

And now, Danny could remember it like it was yesterday. His feet planted firmly on the ceiling, one hand in Tucker’s, his familiar weightlessness spread through the contact. That was him, trying to hold back his laughter. And yet… 

“Come… on.” His friend shouted in frustration. “Come on!” Two voices burst out in laughter, one higher pitched- obviously Sam. And the other….

The camera panned. Black hair, blue eyes pinched closed, mouth open with his laughter.

“Hi, Fenton.” His eyes crinkled, a fond mirth.

Danny remembered this too. Busting a gut at a constipated-looking Tucker, bent over with his chortles, Sam rolling her eyes at his comment. That was him. And yet…

After re-fusing, it had felt like he’d been asleep for a long time. Like he hadn’t really been present; it was all a dream. And yet, he had been right there. He remembered everything. It was like he told Jazz, all those months ago. He was Phantom and Fenton. Fenton and Phantom had been him. And yet he, the Danny thinking this thought, hadn’t really been there. But now….

The video continued, the camera passed around as Tucker cheered, swinging like a pendulum. As Sam had her turn, laughing hysterically the entire time. As Jazz screamed to be put down, before admitting that it wasn’t so bad. All the while, Danny chuckled at the scene. His smile grew, something soft and precious and fond.

“Wait… how?” Tucker wrinkled his brow. “I don’t get it.”

“He’s tapping into our powers.” Phantom righted himself in the air. “I mean, I’m the ghost so I’m technically the one with the powers right now. But we’re still the same person.”

“So I can kinda use them if we’re touching.” Fenton explained. “I uhh… actually turned myself intangible last night, when Phantom did it and I was touching him.”

The video ended there, Fenton and Phantom side by side. The human’s brow wrinkled in thought. The ghost mid-nod, agreeing. 

And Danny’s heart squeezed, something nostalgic. “Guys. We made it.” A finger brushed the screen. As if he could reach back to then and reassure both halves of himself. “We made it.” 

Danny remembered that day where it started. Sitting with his friends, his burger falling through his hands. That was the final straw, the moment that changed everything. It led to his fateful decision to go through the ghost catcher. A bad decision but it had left him all the better. It had taught him many hard won lessons, changing the way he saw his friends, his parents, and most importantly himself.

And those lessons…. Danny remembered, his dream the night he re-merged.

“I’m going to be okay.” A soft, swirling gratitude. “I won’t forget what I learned when I was you guys. I’ll remember.” 

Danny hadn’t forgotten. He’d come back to himself, like finally coming home. And he’d found that he was more. More than just Phantom plus Fenton. More than just human plus ghost. 

Letting out a sigh, the ghost boy lowered himself in the air, down to the roof of the Ops Center. To the camping chair left out here for his nightly star gazing. Blobby curled into his lap, the halfa giving gentle pets. His head drifted up, towards the sky.

And he let himself remember his last night as two halves of himself. 

Danny closed his eyes and he was back there. Sitting side by side. Pointing out constellations and telling stories, one arm around his other half. And at the same time, drifting off to sleep to the echoing voice, his body comfortably leaned against the familiar chilly presence.

“Hey, I’m very witty. You just happen to share my brain.” The ghost grinned, roughly ruffling his counterpart’s hair. “Can’t get one over on you, can I?”

“I’m the pun master.” Fenton chuckled, leaning into the touch.

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are.” Phantom teased.

A chuckle at the memory. Seeing this from both sides really shouldn’t make sense. Yet it couldn’t be more clear…

“I love you too.” The human muttered, rolling his eyes.

The ghost stilled, his free hand dropping out of the black hair. His core squeezed, jovial teasing giving way to a soft and quiet joy. The tiredness radiated off of his other self, heavy enough that he was starting to get silly. But those words…. Every syllable was real. 

Phantom breathed. Teasing and joking was familiar, comfortable even. He was even used to transparency, tender honesty. But this…. The arm still around his human half tightened, his free arm circling around Fenton’s front. He had said earlier, if they had anything else to say to each other while they were still split, they should say it.

Ghost Danny completed the hug. “I do love you.”

Back on the roof, Danny’s hand tenderly rested over his heart-core. Maybe if anyone else had seen that moment, he’d feel embarrassed, ashamed. But that moment was just for him. That same soft and quiet joy rose, quivering in his chest. Splitting himself had let Danny see himself in new ways. He’d learned so much. He’d grown to know, accept, appreciate, and, yes, love both halves of himself. As strange as it was to say, Fenton and Phantom had loved each other. 

An overbearing gratitude washed over him at that. Gratitude that they (that he) had been brave enough to voice that, to give him this memory. This proof, this reminder of how far he’d come. Of all he’d learned. 

He had suffered and struggled and agonized. He had fought with his own self-hatred and doubt, his shame and fear, with the painful reminders of his death. But with the love and support of his parents, sister, and friends, he had overcome. He had learned and grown and changed. The transformation itself hurt and terrified him. But he had risen above it. And now. Now Danny loved who he had become.

And who had he become? What did loving himself mean now, with his heart and core nestled together, where they belonged? It meant taking care of himself. Letting his friends and family know him and love him. Loving other people. It meant eating enough– both ecto and regular food-, sleeping well, watching the stars during his Haunting Hour. Spending time with his loved ones and letting them share his burdens. Helping others as Danny Phantom.

He saved humans in the town with his powers when ghost animals appeared or over-enthusiastic ghosts wouldn’t listen. He helped lost ghosts find their way back to the portal. He worked to find ways for humans and ghosts to exist together.

The idea from when he’d been talking to Sidney earlier flickered in his mind. A shared place for the ghosts on this side of the portal to gather, to bond, to help each other. A kind of Sanctuary, that was his dream.

That first time he’d almost fused, before telling his parents about Phantom, he’d dreamed of the human in the ghostly, ghostly in the human. He’d imagined truly being both. And now Danny found he was. The life he wanted was here, in the life he was building.

Danny unlocked his phone again, taking the image of Fenton and Phantom side by side. “We’ve come so far.” His eyes softened, full of awe and gratitude. “I said it before, in that dream. I’m happy I was both of you. And thank you for working to grow into who I am now.” 

In his lab, Blobby mewed, head jerking up at something in the sky. The half ghost looked, eyes widening. A shooting star, streaming across the vibrantly deep sky. 

His core fluttered in time with his heart, swelling with hope. Danny smiled. “Here’s to whatever comes next.”

Note: Thank you all for reading! Whether you joined me at the beginning back in 2019, you started following only recently, or you're binging at some point in the future, I appreciate you! I would never have written this story, let alone finished it, without all the kind comments on here and fanfiction.net, Tumblr reblogs and rambles in the tags, and DMs on Tumblr and Discord. If you ever talked to me about this story, offered your support and encouragement, I am so thankful to you. I am so thankful for the friendships I've found through this fic and for how much I've grown as a writer.

As always, I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and the story as a whole. I love and appreciate you all!

[zablife]

Hello, sweet Lee! 🩷.

May I request a gif blurb for Alfie and this gif? Maybe hurt/comfort?

Thanks, darling!! ❤️

Ty for the ask, Flor! I went for hurt/comfort and ended up with angst instead 🙈 I hope you still enjoy it!

The Opera Singer

Alfie shuffled across the cold, wooden floorboards, feeling in front of him for the lamp as he went. When he stumbled into it, stubbing his toe, he hissed in pain with a sharp curse escaping his lips. "Fuckin' hell!" he growled into the darkness.

Giving the cord a savage jerk, light sprang forth illuminating his path. His eyes instantly landed on the magnificent gramophone in the center of the room, the only possession he cared anything about in this world. It's ability to cast a spell over him, transporting him back in time and allowing him to relive the past, made it priceless.

He hesitated for a moment as he towered over the stand, gripping the sides to steady himself. The noise would surely wake his housekeeper, Edna, as it had on previous occasions. She would lead him back to his room and dose him with laudanum as she grumbled about him being more difficult to sedate than a bear. However, he would have time to listen to one familiar aria first and that encouraged him to crank the machine, tired servants be damned.

As he placed the needle onto the record, he held his breath in anticipation. The scratching sound before the first notes allowing him time to close his eyes and imagine himself in the audience of an opulent opera house as he had been the first night he saw her.

He thought the golden lighting upon her face illuminated her like a bloody angel. The delicate curls that framed her face and the curve of her neck were details he liked to trace over in his mind, the ritual of it calling him back into a dreamlike state. He'd never seen a woman so tantalizingly beautiful, her curves wrapped up in a red velvet gown he longed to unwrap like a present.

Two months later when the run ended, he would do just that. Escorting her to his London townhouse, they passed the better part of two days tangled up together in his sheets. If he inhaled deeply, he could still smell the unique scent of her jasmine perfume mixed with the heady scent of sex in the air.

His love for her only grew in the months that followed when she would return to him between her engagements in Paris and Vienna, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her. She was like a beautiful songbird who flew away and returned at will. He told himself he would never trap her within a gilded cage, no matter what he felt during her long absences when he turned weak with need and bitter jealousy.

It was a promise he couldn't keep. As it turned out devotion was something Alfie needed from her, demanded of her, and their last meeting was filled with tense words he hadn't meant.

He could never hold the sweetness of her memory past the last crescendo. It was too painful as he thought of her shattering the vase in the front hall as she left, followed by her swift exit to the street where she attempted to run from him. The final clash of cymbals coinciding with the car that never saw her step into the street.

As the record popped and cracked with static, he swore he heard her silver voice whisper, "I love you, Alfie" into the silence of the room and he turned to see if she might be standing there behind him. "Alfie, Alfie..." echoed off the walls and he shook his head, pressing his palms against his ears as he wondered if he had finally gone mad. The haunting sound wouldn't leave him and he remembered why he shouldn't be downstairs at this hour, reminiscing about her.

When he opened his eyes, Edna stood before him to take him to bed. "You'll be needing your medicine now, Mr. Solomons," she advised, taking him by the arm and he didn't resist her.

[sanjoongie]

Library of Illusion: Introduction

📚Part One for the Library Of Illusion Event

📚Pairing: N/A

📚Genre: Fantasy au, Adventure au

📚Warnings: mentions of death, loss of a loved one, dangerous traveling

📚Word Count: 1,168

📚Rating: 18+ MDNI, just plot here

📚Summary: You begin the adventure that is reviving your love by retrieving the fabled treasure from the Library of Illusions

📚Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland the best beta readers a writer could bribe have

↭MasterList ↭The Horror Section↬ Better Run

The modern world was broken. Science and technology had made it so space and time had fractured and the most dangerous quality to possess was an imagination. Reality was skewed. Say goodbye to cell phones, the internet, everything in your current world.  Back were the myths, the stories of old and the monsters that came with it. But also there were new stories of the modern world that mixed in with the old. You were just as likely to walk into Tony Stark as you were Odin. If you believed in it, if you could imagine it, then it became reality.

You lived in a safe bubble, a place where thoughts were not manifested. When the world had shifted, you had been assigned to the library. Your mind was already filled with all of the fiction of the world so assigning you to the now most dangerous place in the world seemed about right. You used to share it with someone you loved. But he is gone now. 

Except you didn’t accept your fate. 

You dug through every book within your library, scanning documents, fairy tales, looking for anything that would help you with bringing your love back. There were plenty of stories; trials and tribulations but none that struck you as a way to bring back your love. 

Then you came across a book that made your fingertips tingle upon running them down the spine. It was both old and new at the same time. You could tell by the style of the gilded edges of the paper and smell of the book that it was old but it looked as if not a speck of time had ever touched it. Library of Illusion was the title. Interesting for a library to have a book about another library but you were desperate for answers.

In the book, it described a treasure. It’s vague about its abilities but it is underlined that it is very, very powerful. Your heart tugged painfully at the thought of bringing back your lover. His smile and laugh haunt your very dreams, and it is not enough to replay the memories in your mind. You must have him back in your arms.

The journey to the library was described as extremely taxing and you had to agree with that statement. It took several days and nights, in which you had to hide and dodge many monsters. You cursed your vivid imagination for making the shadows alive and the mountains full of trolls. You simply had to look at an inspiring scene and the world would come alive. You tried your best to visualize giggling fairies and serene pegasus but the night time was the hardest.

When you approached the doors of the Library of Illusion, you honestly couldn't help but let your mouth drop. You couldn't believe you made it but also the aura of power that exuded off the place was beyond anything you had ever felt. You thought the library you worked in, housing all the keys to the imagination in your safety bubble of a city, was very powerful. Your library was a pinprick of the power coming off of the Library of Illusions.

The doors gave way, and your vision was met with chaos. The many shelves and bookcases seem to merge and split in ways that defy gravity. Which shouldn't have surprised you, given the world you lived in, but it was almost incomprehensible the way some of the shapes that were made and--you had to shake your head. Staring at the library itself was clearly a trap, made to steal other humans of their sanity before they could even begin to look for the treasure. But you were more resolute than that!

You kept to the hallway that seemed to lead to the heart of the library. In the center there was one desk and another large gate behind it. That must be the restricted section. 

A man had his feet up on the desk at the front and you thought that was rude, especially if it had been your library. You cleared your voice and the man stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Oh, a visitor,” He said with zero tone in his voice.

“The Keeper of the Keys, I presume?” You drawled. 

The man stiffened. “You know who I am?”

“Just your title and the fact that you're a demon,” You admitted, “The book I read doesn’t tell much of what’s beyond you. Simply of the creature in the restricted section that guards a treasure that I’m going to make mine.”

The man stood up and moved in front of the desk. He leaned back, butt resting on the edge and crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow at you. “And what do you intend to use the treasure for?”

You smiled sadly. “Is my true intentions key to acquiring it?”

His lips made an unimpressed line on his face. “Not necessarily.”

“Then I think I’ll keep those reasons to myself.”

The demon grumbled. “Fine. I will explain the rules to you then, secretive human.”

Seonghwa explained, in order for you to get into the restricted section, you had to acquire six different keys. They were scattered amongst the sections of the library. You needed to explore said sections to find the guardian of that section, and you needed to convince them to give the key to you. Sounded easy enough, without any specific details, which made you wonder just how easy this actually was going to be.

“Careful,” The demon said with a smirk, “If you break the reality of their world, the demon in charge of that section might take too kindly. So it’s best if you play along with their story, or game, so that you can receive their respective keys.”

You squared your shoulders, determined to do whatever it took to get these keys to get into the restricted section. “Understood.”

Seonghwa shook his head. “You’re a funny human. I wish you luck, for what it’s worth.”

“Probably not a lot, coming from a demon,” You responded, already wandering down the halls with a wave goodbye.

Seonghwa laughed under his breath. He wasn’t sure if he wanted you to succeed so that he could get to play with you or fail so you weren’t another victim of the library. 

Instead of searching out your favorite sections like you might have done as a reader, you let your heart guide you. You walked the halls, waiting for something to pull you. There was a particular section that gave you goosebumps as you walked by it. Its aura was that of hushed whispers and tension climbing up your spine. When you peered up at the sign, it was bitch black and said in a gothic font “Horror”. You swallowed but found there was no moisture in your mouth. If this was your first test and it was meant to send the weak hearted home, you understood the mission. If you could overcome Horror, surely you were worthy of the treasure.

↭MasterList ↭The Horror Section↬ Better Run

taglist: @hijirikaww @flowerboykun @kitten4sannie @starillusion13 @flurrys-creativity @stardragongalaxy @a-soft-hornytiny @yoonguurt

[firespirited]

hot take but I think the fantasy Event Horizon director's cut should have less gore and more of the character building moments. Less is more.

The more ambiguity about whether it was a mass hallucination, the more left to the imagination and conveyed by the actors reactions to what they saw off-screen, the better the film.

The set design, the lighting, the incredible acting speak for themselves - I think those things are so strong you could have a PG-13 rated cut with a single f-bomb (Fishburne's "Fuck this ship!" of course) that still leaves you sleepless.

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

9/10 film. Would have been 10/10 without the extra gore.

As Anderson himself says, after a certain amount the viewer's imagination is stretched too far and you start to rationalize the rubber props and fake blood. The anatomy is off for PJ's death, the fire's effects are off even for different gravity, the carefully acted distress of the crew isn't present in the shock imagery. That's the one point against it, that and the prevailing belief that it's about a literal hell when that's refuted in the text.

==== I love this film ====

It is breathtakingly beautiful. the sets, the effects, the lighting, the filters, subliminal symbology everywhere. The acting, the way the world is lived in and their relationships are shown to us by the way the actors touch each other and move around their ship.

Within the first five minutes we have everything we need to know: Weir is a self-absorbed "genius" who hesitates over his jugular while shaving, Miller is an efficient and empathetic search and rescue lifeguard captain with full devotion to his crew which is fully returned.

Each member of the crew has their backstory in their mannerisms and design: we have a superstitious pilot with an ankh back tattoo, the sun-starved surgeon has scalpels on a utility vest and encourages you to smoke, the women are "one of the boys" facing the same ol' sexist banter from lovable rogue Cooper, but also respected in their fields. That's show not tell in impeccable detail.

We get a quick meet and greet verbal introduction to the crew at the 10-minute mark. We're introduced to the ship and its gothic, unholy geometries at 25. The design elements invoke a hybrid between the awe of a cathedral and the disgust of an intricate medieval torture device. The technology is robust and, except for an optical drive disk, future-proof.

This ship is a twisted Passion Play in design form with an evil seraphim of eyes within eyes, wheels within wheels as a beating heart engine. You don't have to be told that this thing demands worship and sacrifice, it is in your cultural subconscious.

It is in every jagged tooth and violence invoking shape engraved into the various panels and walls. The designers working on creating future warnings about nuclear waste would be pointing at different elements and yelling "Yes! That's it! Universal, visceral, primal signs of danger! Colours of disease!"

We're in a psychological thriller: the first real violence is a full 50 minutes into a 1h30 runtime and it's a plausible hazard of the job, shown with an unflinching camera with real time tension.

We spend the next ten minutes being gaslit by Weir into believing the ramping violence of the 'haunted house' might just be in our heads until the captain and crew subvert the horror trope and GET OUT. Fantastic story telling, very smart.

We now switch genres. again. to an ultra violent possession and slasher movie with a switch in tone for the ending: rewritten to be just open-ended enough to wonder if it was a shared psychotic frenzy, something supernatural or something natural but beyond humanity's understanding. A nice bookend to that almost campy over the top blood fest of a last half hour where Fishburne is the grounding force to Sam Neill's insane monster.

The CGI is in service to the practical effects and near seamless despite the age, it's mostly composite work on miniature sets and for zero gravity liquids. I honestly don't know how Mortal Kombat guy managed to get this kind of acting and photography talent to work on a space horror.

It feels a lot like the glitch that was Hannibal the TV show, art that wouldn't get made if the money men had known exactly what was involved and art that is bordering on schlocky but toeing a line that makes it brilliant. A kind of art that is achieved with a lot of talent and dedication but also the enforced limitation of The Edit.

I really think that the multiple test screenings and edits made this film better: it's like Robocop vs Showgirls*, Event Horizon vs Resident Evil*: the edits saved us from a movie that went too far and came out silly.

It's a film that feels rare.

*you already know I like both.

[idv-ask-the-showman]

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and ghouls, Welcome one and all to tonight show~ I am your friendly neighbour Showman, Phineas. oh, just what a truly haunting pleasure it is to see all your spirited faces gathered here tonight!! I stand before you to celebrate, announce, and embrace the arrival of the spine-tingling month of October!!”

“And we all knows what that means~ the air is crisp, the leaves are falling, and the pumpkin spice is flowing. It's that time of year when the mischievous spirits come out to play and Halloween lurks just around the cobweb-covered corner. Yes, honey, it's time to release your inner witch, wizard, vampire, or even a gloriously goofy ghost!”

“In this magical month of October, the world transforms into a whimsical wonderland of frightful delights. It's the time when the veil between realms becomes as thin as spider silk, granting us a chance to embrace our wildest imaginations.”

“And we are here tonight to make sure that during this frightful and spooOOOOooky~ month, you would have the most fun you could have ever dream of!! Heheh~”

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//okay I made a small drawings ideas list for you all to use for fun during this month, is not long or a lot but is the best I could do tbh. You do not have to do them in order or as fast as possible, you can just pick what fit your fancy and have fun!!

{DRAW YOUR OCs}

Getting ready for Halloween

Carving a pumpkin

Going to a simple Halloween party

Going/giving trick or treating

Splash art for their costume (like in genshin)

Scary movies night

Playing a horror game

Waking up from a nightmare

Halloween masquerade ball

Dressing up as their favourite horror movie character

Let them sing their favourite children rhythm but in a more of a scary tone.

Dancing underneath the blood moon

Got cursed by a witch (your choice what the curse is)

Exploring a real hunted house

Day of the dead

Dress as their friend/family member

Doing one of those 3am scary challenges (Bloody Mary, ouija)

Be a menace to society and watch or already set the Christmas decorations and movies mid October >:3

Visit a graveyard, why not?

Doing a devilish ritual to summon an ancient evil deity… with the besties!!

Getting drunk in a party

Hiding a DEAD BODY.

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{OCs Asks}

1. If your OC had to choose between being a vampire, werewolf, or witch,etc. which one would they pick and why?

2. What would be your OC's favorite Halloween candy or treat? Would they have any unusual cravings?

3. Does your OC have any unique Halloween traditions or rituals that they follow each year?

4. If your OC hosted a Halloween party, what would be the theme and how would they decorate the venue?

5. What is your OC's opinion on scary movies? Do they love them or avoid them at all costs?

6. If your OC were to go trick-or-treating, who would they go with?

7. Has your OC ever encountered a real ghost, monster, or other supernatural entity during Halloween? What happened?

8. Describe a memorable Halloween adventure or misadventure that your OC has had in the past.

9. Is your OC the type to play pranks on Halloween night, or do they prefer a more peaceful approach to the holiday?

10. How would your OC react if Halloween forever been cancelled?

11. Does your OC believe in the existence of creatures like witches, vampires, or werewolves? Why or why not?

12. How does your OC feel about carving pumpkins? Do they enjoy the process or do they find it messy and tedious?

13. If your OC were to create a spell for a Halloween potion, what kind of magical effects would it have?

14. Has your OC ever attended a Halloween masquerade ball? If so, what kind of costume did they wear and how did they feel about the event?

15. What kind of supernatural abilities or powers does your OC possess, and how do they utilize them during the Halloween season?

16. How was your OC first Halloween like? And if they didn’t celebrate it in the past as a kid, tell us why?

17. Dose your OC like the month of October?

18. What type of person your OC is during Halloween?

19. How likely that your OC would befriend Jack Skellington?

20. Would your OC be the type to older a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks just because is October even tho they may not like it?

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[mywaywardcupcake]

Joey for the meme?

I'm so happy I get to talk about my boy so much today!! Thank you for sending this in! Ok this is going to be a long one!

Answers for 3, 5 and 11 are here and answers for 7 and 13 are here

1. What Pokemon would you compare this character to?

Part of me wants to say Charizard and it's mostly because I'm thinking of Ash's Charizard and it's attitude. Also the shiny Charizard is Black and Red, like come on.

2. "McDonalds! McDonalds! McDonalds!" "We have food at home." or *pulls into the drive through as children cheer, orders a single black coffee and leaves* ?

Oh Jou is 100% MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!

4. What movie(s) do you think this character wouldn't be able to stand?

Obviously, scary movies. But, to get into specifics...I think slasher movies he would care for but he would be less unwilling to watch them. I think the ones he absolutely hates to watch and at times flay out refuse would be more haunted house, ghost, demon possession ones. Especially, if they do any of that based on a true story. It would get to him too much. Which considering who his best friend is, this is honestly hilarious to me. "Based on a true story! This girl touched a BOX and got possessed by an ancient demon?!?! What the hell!!! That's terrifying! How is this a true story?! Can you imagine just going to some place and touching a box and suddenly you just wake up covered in blood?!?!" Yugi and Bakura both just stare at him like no, Jou. I could never imagine that.

6. What part of themself might they resent?

He resents who he used to be for awhile. He used to hate himself and the things he has done to others. I think that is something that would tend to bother him a bit. I'm also thinking if he has a record and how it may cause difficulties for jobs in the future and how he may come back to being upset at himself for his past mistakes and gang life. Though, I do think things get better for him and I also think he grows to forgive himself.

8. What character foils / parallels do you find most intriguing from canon regarding this character?

I have always found the character foil/parallel with him and Kaiba to be really interesting. They are put into so many similar situations throughout their lives but their reactions are so different. I could write more here but this one could be an essay honestly.

9. What does this character find inspiring?

His loved ones. He finds Yugi's kindness inspring and Shizuka's bravery. He wants to be a better person because of them.

10. If this character wanted to cheer up someone they cared about, what do you think they'd do?

Thinking specifically of him yelling at Atem in the puzzle to cheer up right now.

Honestly I think it depends on the person and the situation. I think at times he'd do silly things and try to make them smile but, we also have moments when he gives his speeches too. During those he doesn't act silly, many times he's looking directly at them, on their level and talks about how great he thinks they are. How he knows, because he's been there, that even when things looks dark that it'll be ok and it'll get better. We also have moments when hes just there for the person, like with Honda and getting rejected by Miho, and he just offers to get them food and just kind of be there for them. Honestly Jou, when he realizes someone is upset, really tries hard to fix it and seems to be fairly good at it.

12. What's a moment in canon regarding them that you feel is underappreciated?

This one is a little harder because it's one of those things where honestly it's probably more based on maybe not seeing it as much but, I feel like Jou winning against Ghost Kozuka should be appreciated more. That was the first time he was truly on his own, in an absolutely terrifying place for him. I feel like even though he beat Ryuzaki on his own and that was a great moment, beating Kozuka was a huge turning point for him and how he viewed himself and dueling.

14. "Can I copy your homework?" "I'll help you with it!" "Yeah sure" "bold of you to assume i did the homework" "lol nope" "wait we had homework????" or *Read 5:55 PM*

Oh he is definitely "Wait we had homework???" With a little bit of "bold of you to assume I did the homework" because like he knows that it would be honestly hilarious for someone to ask him of all people to copy his homework. He has like 3 jobs and adhd , you really think he's out here doing homework? Much less realizing there is homework. Though, just imagine if one day Anzu is digging through her things and realizes she forgot her homework and Jou just slides a paper over and shrugs like "eh, I never turn it in anyway. Another missed assignment is no big deal." And part of her is so thankful and the other part of her is like....there's not a single correct answer on this paper. Somehow turning this in would be worse than just admitting I forgot it.

[deancasswitchbang]

The Housemate

Author: Trenchcoat_Paradigm (@geeksheek89) Artist: Squirrelofcelestialintent (@squirrelofcelestialintent​) No Major Archive Warnings Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clairvoyant, Haunted House, Real Estate Agent Castiel, Ghost Dean, Mutual Pining, Eventual Smut, Voyeurism, Possessed Dildo, “I swear if you buy this place I’m so gonna Swayze the shit you!”

Summary: The old Singer farmhouse has been listed with his father’s real estate company for the past 2 years, and Castiel couldn't fathom why the place never sold. That was until he was tasked with selling the place and quickly discovered that it wasn’t just dry rot haunting the halls.

Whenever someone thinks of ghosts, they always draw the same image of a bygone era. Something that would resemble a ‘Lady in grey’ in a long flowing dress, wandering the halls of old forgotten manor houses. Never someone who looked strikingly similar to one’s age, and equally, never someone with such a high level of sass.

Dean was vulgar, annoying, and an insatiable flirt who had no interest in leaving what was once his home. He would drive Castiel up the wall, so much so that he regularly thought about tossing a handful of salt into his face, just for a moment of peace and quiet. But he was also charming, kind-hearted, and had a smile that could light up a room. Paired with his bright emerald green eyes and infectious laugh made his handsome face look more alive than Castiel had ever felt.

Castiel had never intended to buy the old farmhouse, but he’s a firm believer in things happening for a reason. He just never imagined to save a ghost would be the reason.

Preview: “Woah.” The husband froze mid-stride, his arms coming up to rub at his bare biceps. “Do you guys feel that?” he asked his eyes flitting between his wife and Castiel. “Babe, come check this out! I swear there’s a cold spot right here.” The man stepped forward again, his hand reaching out, the tips of his fingers pushing forward straight into the ghost’s chest and protruding out his back. The tips of his fingers wiggled through the flickering vision.

“Get your hand out of Me!” The ghost protested batting at his assaulting arm, but his pale hands just sliced through the solid human form with the husband staring right through him, completely unaware of the ghostly protest.

Castiel pressed his lips together trying hard to suppress a smirk. “It’s an old building—” he offered, his usual go-to when ‘cold spots’ cropped up, all the while trying to keep his professional face firmly intact. “There’s possibly a draft somewhere.”

“Dude! Will you quit fingering my insides!” The ghost answered stepping away and the hand slicing through his ghost’s torso. “Seriously… at least by me dinner first.”

Castiel chuckled, coving up the laps of character with a small clear of his throat. The woman stepped forward, mimicking her husband’s movement of raising her hand and swirling it in the open air. “I don’t feel anything.” She replied with a shake of her head.

“It’s gone now. Man, that was weird.”

“You’re weird.” The ghost snarked back, looking even more sullen than he had moments ago, his arms coming to cross his chest as he pouted at the couple. ‘Ghost can pout?’

“Would you like to see the last room?” Castiel asked arm outstretched towards the open door indicating their departure. The couple smiled at him and headed out back onto the landing with Castiel close behind. One hand on the golden doorknob with all the intention to pull the door closed behind him; “Oh sweet blue-eyes, I hate watching you go. But man, do I love to watch you leave.” The ghost whistled appreciatively. “Damn… You could bounce a quarter off that thing.”

Feeling the hairs on the pack of his neck rise once again and a shameful pair of eyes on his behind, Castiel turned quickly to face the perpetrator. Eyebrow raised, one hand still on the door handle. “I can hear you.”

The apparition yelped. He stumbled backwards into the room like he had lost his footing, lower legs clipped through the bed and clutching a hand to his chest like he had legitimately been startled. Mouth agape and bright green eyes wide staring straight back at him looking, dare he say, terrified. With a blink of an eye, the apparition flickered and vanished out of sight.

Castiel didn’t even think it was possible to ‘spook’ a ghost. But he guessed there was a first time for everything.

POSTING BETWEEN APRIL 23rd AND MAY 6th, 2023!  

[2lim3rz]

So it’s me again, the one who first asked about all of the emperor of mankind imagines and asks and I recently came back into the fandom. Alas all of your Yandere asks is/are amazing and I was wondering about your take on a reader escaping Yandere Emps? Like they escape and evade all of his attempts to capture them though sheer luck and will, but he still lovingly tortures them in their sleep. Anything from bribes, feral possessives, to anger, anything, and yet they don’t give in, don’t give away their location, until they let slip one tiny detail about the planet they are inhabiting.

YOU HAUNT ME ANON, GOOD JOB. SEND ME MORE EMPEROR X READER VHA IDEAS.

Your dreams were once haunted by flashes of the unknown. Of the vague and eldritch.. but now they were haunted with gold and bones. With wires sinking into your flesh and a myriad of voices all sounding deeply masculine.

"My sweet dove," it would murmur into your ears "come to me once more and I will grant you your wishes. You may walk more of my halls and explore any planet you wish to see. You will have the most luxurious of goods and the most comforting of beds to sleep upon. Only the best for you, my love." Comforting. Gentle. Tempting.

Other dreams were darker. Of oppressively opulent halls and beautiful clothes that drowned you. Of skeletal hands that tore into your flesh and a thundering voice roaring so loudly; loud enough so that when you woke up, you could not hear for minutes at a time.

"I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING, YOU THIEVING WRETCH. WHORING YOUR MIND, YOUR SOUL SO THAT YOU AVOID MY GENTLE TOUCHES."

Frightening and fearful, so that you wanted to run once more. They hadn't found you yet. He hasn't found you yet. Your dreams were always so fickle and yet you were prideful that you were somehow coherent enough to ward any thoughts of your current 'home' away from Him.

"I worry for you, my heart. I need you, I yearn for you. Even my most trusted warriors and advisors ask where you have been."

It was the sad ones that tore your heart the hardest. That made you awaken crying. You cried a lot these days anyways. Everything was so tolling on your mind. The smallest thing would send you bawling. You were only lucky to be some no body in some hive-world. Hiding in a not-quite-house not-quite-shelter.

And yet, you knew that when you awoke to Arbites pulling you to your feet and yanking you sternly to the spires above that you had failed yourself. That your mind betrayed you. What had you thought? What- Maguttol fruit. An underground delicacy that only found the will to grow on the planet you found. Something that was bitter and felt like eating snot but delicious and nourishing if you were starved.

The moment the Arbites supporting you let go, you fell to your knees only to be dragged up again by an Ultramarine the second you tried to sprint for it. Thrashing your malnourished body and wailing as if you were being burned alive.

Anything! Freedom in suffering was butter than captivity in safety! You howled your displeasure until your voice broke. Until you could do nothing but bleat out croakily. Until you were placed before the Emperor once again. Feeling the gaze of a godly thing that beheld you in mixed emotions.

Feeling the gilded cage wrap around you ever tighter as his skeletal fingers lightly lifted your chin, and mummified lips pressed against yours.