#might to Gracey next

[strange-doll-child]

Ghost Gallery centric design 👍👍 Irish organist

[wundrousarts]

SILVERBORN IS OUT IN AUSTRALIA?!??!

Noooo 😭 that’s just Google and various sites never being up to date 😅 I hate to break the news 😭😭😭

Silverborn is not out until next year, where it will release on April 30th in Australia, May 8th in the UK, and June 24th in the US. These dates are for REAL this time, I promise!!

Unfortunately if you are waiting for a translation, no news on any of those dates yet :( I honestly would say to maybe contact whoever publishes Nevermoor translations in your country to express demand for Silverborn to be translated sooner rather than later? Worth a try 🤷

[chasingshadowsblog]

Review: Better Man - Something Beautiful

Title: Better Man Directed by: Michael Gracey Written by: Simon Gleeson, Oliver Cole, Michael Gracey Starring: Robbie Williams, Alison Steadman, Jonno Davies, Stephen Pemberton, Kate Mulvaney, Carter J Murphy, Raechelle Banno, Frazer Hadfield Music by: Robbie Williams Choreography: Ashley Wallen Visual Effects Team: Wētā FX Visual Effects Supervisor: Luke Millar Production Design by: Joel Chang 

"It might be cabaret but it's world class cabaret and I'm the fucking best at it. Fuck yourselves."

There are fair comparisons to be made between Better Man and Elton John's Rocketman. Both draw on fantastical elements to depict the experience of sudden and extreme fame. Rocketman does so through colourful, high-octance musical sequences and the image of the singer shooting up into the sky like the rocket man he sings about; Better Man is more rooted in reality but depicts its subject matter - the musician Robbie Williams - as a CGI chimpanzee.

Williams has spent his life, it seems, hiding his anxieties behind a 'cheeky monkey' persona but it is not to this that the ape-suit refers, i in his own terms Williams has always viewed himself as "unevolved" compared to those around him and it is this idea that saves the the CGI chimp from being a gimmick and makes it a unique and engaging stylistic choice. It takes all of ten minutes to get used to the CGI chimp and after that ten minutes it's difficult to imagine a human face and body in the same role and it is not so difficult to see the human being behind the chimpanzee eyes. After that ten minutes, the effect is almost invisible. It helps that none of the other characters allude to the fact that they are talking to a chimp. There is no wink and nudge; Williams' story is told with sincerity, making his presence as a chimpanzee and the film's energetic musical numbers - a Take That montage that jumps and flips around Regent Street, a delicate sequence in which he falls in love with Nicole Appleton, and an unexpectedly violent scene in which Knebworth Stadium is turned into a gladiatorial arena where Williams battles past versions of himself - seem utterly natural.

While the ups and downs of Williams' career aren't so different to sudden fame and cocaine blues depicted in many a musician's biopic, the commitment to the stylistic punt pays off totally and utterly. The schtick will - hopefully - put curious bums in cinema seats but the heart-felt sincerity in which the story is told will keep them there. Williams and director Michael Gracey took a massive risk and it absolutely works. There is a magic in Better Man, in Williams' words and Gracey's committed directing, that somehow, combined, make the emotions in the film more heartfelt and stronger than they would have been had Willimas been merely a man.

Other bits:

I've only written two reviews so far this year and they both reference Elton John and Rocketman so I think I should be expecting a cheque in the post soon

Good evening everybody! My name is Robbie Williams. This is my band, and for the next two hours, YOUR ASS IS MINE!" - bruh

all the song and dance sequences were outstanding - it needs to be said, it needs to be SHOUTED

that She's the One number was so beautiful

again, the absolute commitment to the bit that this film did is really what made it for me. I kept expecting, after his rehab, that he'd turn into a man, but I like the insinuation that even after sorting himself out, Robbie Williams still sees himself as a chimpanzee

"I'm gonna be fucking famous!" "Shut up, you tit." "Oh, fuck off Glenn."

Alex Godfrey's review is brilliant and captures everything that was so brilliant about the movie: https://www.empireonline.com/movies/reviews/better-man/

I wasn't a huge fan of Robbie Williams when I went to see this - I liked some of his songs but his peak as a musician was somewhat before my time - I enjoy music biopics and this one caught my interest as a bold and cool way to tell this kind of story, but consider me converted I'm absolutely sold on his music now

the Relight My Fire setting was so good and effective in conveying how overwhelming it must be as a musician to face that scale of an audience and venue

I realise that it is probably not his story to tell, but I would have liked if the film had been more explicit bout the fact that Nicole had to get an abortion because her producer wouldn't let her have a baby. It made me think of Sinéad O'Connor, who refused to get an abortion and how she is probably a minority among the many women who have been treated this way. I think it would have been a good opportunity to at least shine a light on the issue in a conversation or argument about it, even if they didn't want to dwell on it for the entire film

fucking Oasis

[creative-soul-22]

Why Madame Leota is charging $3 in “Haunted Mansion” and why it's probably anything but “highway robbery”.

"I can show you what happened but it will cost you $3." "What? That’s highway robbery!”

We know this scene from 2023's Haunted Mansion. Madame Leota demands $3 from the "Dream Team" consisting of Gabby, Ben, Father Kent, Bruce and Harriet in payment for her help, and Bruce accuses her of highway robbery. In the trailer, Madame Leotas lets out an indignant "Who said that?" not long in coming, in the film she leaves this accusation unanswered. Of course I laughed at this scene both in the cinema and during the trailer.

But then a thought got stuck in my head:

What if it's anything but highway robbery? What if the claim is justified?

So, let's collect all the information about Madame Leota's previous life and put it together like a puzzle to form a picture.

First of all, let's see how this lady dresses. Namely like this:

A lavish robe that makes her look almost regal. And who knows, maybe she is also a member of a royal family but was banished from there because of her skills as a medium and her great power? This regalia is a good expression of her power, wealth and influence. And it has to, because only then does Madame Leota appear authentic. Especially considering her clientele. This is the only way she can give the impression of being truly powerful. This is the only way for her customers to take her seriously, appreciate and respect her as a medium.

And that brings us to the next point. Her power. On the one hand she is powerful because she is a really powerful medium, her powers to communicate with the dead, hold seances and see into the future(?) are very strong. So she is a master of her craft, not a swindler but really a real powerful medium. Perhaps even the most powerful in the United States, if not the world.

But that's not the only reason she has so much power.

In the film it is mentioned that rich people and royals often approached her, that she was a frequent guest of royal families and rich people. So her clientele is the most powerful in a society, those with the most money or those with the most power. Now if we consider that she offers séances and communication with the deceased and thus also does grief work and that her clients turn to her in grief and pain, one can imagine the great influence she has on her clients. And, as already mentioned, her customers are kings and rulers and very wealthy people like William Gracey. So also people with a lot of power and influence.

And that brings us to the next point: her wealth. When you have clients of such great wealth, you don't have to starve yourself. She can charge prices that normal people cannot afford. Firstly because of the clientele she serves, but also because of her power. The quality of the product makes the price, the price makes who can afford the product. In short, Madame Leota is the Rolls Royce of mediums. A luxury brand. Madame Leota stands for good quality. This lady keeps what she promises.

And that brings us to her popularity, partly because her customers are well-known themselves, but also because she's really very powerful. Word gets around. So of course Harriet is a big Madame Leota fan, because she looks up to her, hoping to one day be as famous and powerful as she is. So Madame Leota is still well known in her branch more than 100 years after her sudden disappearance. So she was once someone of rank and fame.

And then she gets trapped in the crystal ball. So all of a sudden she is no longer able to leave the house, which means that people have to come to her. Then it's like she's not going to be trapped in the crystal ball in her own home. It's at William Gracey's house, while she's away. But not everyone knows that. In addition, from the outside, things look mysterious: William Gracey is dead, the arsenic bottle is lying next to him. To a police officer who might be investigating this (if anyone calls the police at all, or if a police officer happens to stray there), it looks like Gracey has poisoned himself (which he has). But if it turns out that a Madame Leota was in the house (because she went missing, for example) and her cane is found next to Gracey's body, which of course contains her fingerprints (or not because of the gloves), but with Madame Leota nowhere to be found, one might assume that she is either gone or killed and her body gone. No one would know that Leota is in her crystal ball, and if the hatboxghost immediately put her in the trunk and hid her in the attic right away, then the chances of being found are zero. So Leota is presumed dead or at least just forgotten at some point as no one ever hears from her again. A medium that no one knows anymore because everyone has forgotten it or thinks it is dead no longer has any customers. Of course she can no longer spend the money without hands, it is no longer of any use to her. So, in an instant, she went from a medium that is loved, respected, rich and powerful to a head in a crystal ball that no one knows anymore, who can no longer travel to the customers, who no longer can use the money she has.

As a result, prices drop drastically. It's just bad for business being a medium stuck in your own crystal ball.

But that's not the only reason she charges $3. Now let's take a look at the situation in which the “dream team” mentioned at the beginning finds itself: The situation is becoming increasingly threatening. If they want to survive, they need to find out what happened so they know what to do, and more importantly, what the hatboxghost wants. He wants to lock 1000 souls in the mansion so that he becomes omnipotent. Grief makes one vulnerable to its manipulations. Hatties power is strongest when the moon is full. A bancurse can banish him back to where he came from.

They receive all this information from Madame Leota. So she has essential information on how to survive the hatboxghost. William Gracey can't tell them for various reasons, so he just writes down for them: "Talk to Leota." So without Madame Leota, our dream team would be in quite a fix.

And since Madame Leota doesn't know our dream team at the beginning and still thinks of herself as a lady and medium, but really wants to help, she offers her help at a fair price: 3$.

So the price is a combination of the fact that Leota is not anymore what she used to be, the willingness to help, the importance of her information and the fact that even after all these years her services still aren’t free.

But since she really wants to help, she doesn't protest when she doesn't receive her $3, knowing that the dream team is in a predicament and won't survive if she doesn't give them the information. $3 or not.

So it's not highway robbery, but a more than fair offer.

[seriously-nobody]

Love's Dark Afflictions

Chapter 6

Warnings: Romance, murder, nightmares, paranoia, blood, gore

Preface: I'm sure you can guess what happens in this chapter from the cliffhanger. Remember the warnings and have fun!

The servant runs up to the wall where the door used to be and begins pounding his fists on the wood and screaming for help. “That won’t work!” You roll your eyes and he stops turning his head to look at you. “All the maids and servants have gone back to their quarters for the night. Master Gracey and Madame Leota can’t hear anything behind that seance room door either.” You prowl around the sofa, waiting for the servant to run so you can pounce on him. “In here,” You chuckle. “No one can hear you scream.” You finish with a wicked grin. 

He starts for the fireplace and you chase him around the living room, lunging at him before he can grab the fire poker. You lasso the rope around his neck and bring his back to your chest. “I kind of like it when you run.” You giggle breathily in his ear as he chokes against the force of the rope crushing his windpipe. “It’s invigorating.” You say, letting him go. He falls to his knees on the floor, grasping at his throat, gulping in breaths of air. You kick him onto his chest and kneel on his back, pinning him beneath you. “Now snap his neck!” Alistair entices. “No, I have a better idea.” You say keeping the rope taut. You bring the rope down around his throat again. “Wait please! I’ll do anything!” The servant rasps out. “Anything?” You ask him. “Now this ought to be good.” Alistair says, floating beside you. “Anything either of you want! I’ll do it!” He pleads. “The only thing you can do for me is die.” You tighten the rope a little but pause. ”Oh, and do try to fight back. I find it quite fun when you struggle.” You say and begin suffocating him. 

His legs kick and his arms flail as he gags. You pin his ankles down with your other leg and rear your head back so his hands don’t catch you. You laugh maniacally at the site before you. He struggles under you and you hold true until his movements become slower and slower. He goes limp against the rope and his head falls. You release the rope, his head thunks on the floor and you feel for a pulse on his neck. “Still alive. Must’ve gone unconscious.” You say getting off him. You look over to the fire poker and get an idea. “I’ll finish him off.” You reach for it and Alistair lays his hand on yours. You look over to him. “Remember, you can’t clean this mess with fire like you did with Florence. We have to keep things clean, so no spilling blood anywhere.” He reminds you. “Hmm you’re right. How do we finish this, then?” You ask him. “I might have an idea.” Alistair says, pointing up to the rafters where moonbeams dance in tiny dust particles in the air. “We could tie him up there.” He suggests. “Wouldn’t they notice? And how am I going to get up there?” You ask. “I can project a ceiling over it. No one would notice.” Alistair says, sidling up next to you. “And for how you get up there,” He wraps his arms around you. “I can carry you.” Alistair says, flustering you a little. “If you think it’ll work. Then I trust you.” You say. “Alright then. First we have to make this look like this wasn’t a murder.” Alistair says, nodding to the body. “Right.” You walk back to the unconscious servant and tie the rope into a noose and place it around his neck. You stand back up and walk over to Alistair preparing yourself. 

He pulls you into a bridal carry. “Hold on.” He says and you wrap your arms around his neck as he floats up to the rafters and drops you off on the catwalks above. “I’ll get the twig.” Alistair groans. He floats back down and grabs the rope around the servant’s neck. The servant’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of being pulled up by the rope. The servant kicks and flails again as Alistair pulls him up to the rafters. Alistair throws you the end of the rope and you swing it over one of the support beams, and grab it once it swings back to you. Alistair momentarily lets go of the rope and you struggle to hold him up yourself. Your feet skid forward on the wood and Alistair notices, flying to your rescue and grabbing part of the rope. The servant claws at the rope around his neck and at the air towards you, but nothing helps. He kicks and swipes while your grip and Alistair's combined hold true. The servant’s struggling slows. He looks in your eyes, the light fading from his. He reaches out to you, not in aggression, but as a cry for help. After all you have confessed to doing and after all you have done to him, he still has faith in you not to kill him. Damn shame you don’t feel the same. He finally goes completely limp, his outstretched arm falls to his side and his head hangs at an unnatural angle downward. His body dangles at the end of the rope, swaying back and forth. “Can you hold the rope on your own for a moment while I tie it off?” Alistair asks you. You nod and he slowly lets go while you grip the rope. He swiftly ties off the end of the rope on a beam behind you. “Alright, now slowly let go of the rope.” He says in a soft voice to keep you calm. You do as he says and the rope and knot hold true. You look down and your mind plays tricks on you making you think the room below you is stretching below you. You hadn’t known you were even afraid of heights. “I think it’s best we get down now.” Alistair says smoothing a hand over your back. “Yes, I think so.” You get back into position for him to carry you back down and you bury your head into his neck to keep from looking down. He laughs softly at you and holds you tighter to him. 

Once on the ground your legs feel like jelly and pain shoots through your injured leg. You had almost forgotten you were even injured with the amount of adrenaline that was coursing through you. You stumble a bit but Alistair catches you and hands you your crutch. “Thank you.” You say, propping yourself up. Alistair looks up to the rafters and waves his hand above him in a wide sweeping motion. An illusion of a ceiling materializes before your very eyes and you gawk at it. “How can you even do that?” You ask in awe. “I have many powers as a ghost.” Alistair says mischievously. “Half you don’t even know about yet.” He tilts his head over to you with a smirk and raises his eyebrows at you. You laugh at him and bump his shoulder. “Alright we better get out of here before the seance lets out.” You say and Alistair nods. With the snap of his fingers the windows and doors that were in the room reappear. You walk over to the doors and try to open them but they don’t budge. “Oh no.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Damn my incompetence! The servant still has the key to these doors.” You say turning to Alistair. “Here, let me try something.” Alistair gets an idea. He walks up to the door and passes a finger through the lock of the door. He struggles a little until you hear a click and the door unlocks. “And, voila.” He says and you thank him. The clock on the mantle chimes, signaling you have 3 minutes before Madame Leota and William finish the seance. “You better move quickly now.” Alistair says dematerializing. You open the doors quietly and hobble to the stairs, abandoning the use of your crutch in favor of swiftness. You still limp a little from the pain but you book it to your room as quietly as you can. 

Once inside you close and shut the door behind you, leaning your crutch against the wall beside the door. You hold your breath and listen at the door for any voices or footsteps following you… nothing. You take a peek at the clock in your room, 1 minute to spare. You let go of your breath and walk over to your bed, slumping down on the edge of it. You breathe a sigh of relief and laugh breathlessly at your predicament. Alistair materializes in front of you. “What’s so funny?” He smirks at you. “How the hell did I get into this mess with you.” You cover your face with your hands and hunch over. You feel a lump begin to form in your throat and you try to hold it down and hide it by laughing. “Y/n? It’s alright. We took care of it.” Alistair tries to reassure you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You feel tears begin to form in your eyes but you still try to hold them back. “Don’t you see,” Your voice breaks, still muffled in your hands. “They’ll figure it out. They’ll know it was me. That I did it. All of it. Just like he did. Then they’ll be messes to clean up too.” You begin crying into your hands. You feel the mattress shift as Alistair sits beside you and embraces you. “Sh, sh, it’s ok. We’ll be ready for them. They’re just servants” He leans into you. “No, not the servants. William and Madame Leota. I don’t want them to be messes.” You cry. “If we play our cards right, then they won’t have to be.” He says, but you can’t help but feel their demises are almost inevitable. “Come now, you need rest.” Alistair suggests. You nod and take your hands away from your face. You take off your boots and overgarments. Alistair dims the lights and pulls the blankets back for you and you slide in with him. You bury your face in his chest and sniffle. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. “You’ll feel better in the morning.” He reassures, petting your head. A few stray tears leave your eyes as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

You awaken in your bed, your room cast in a dim light. You feel around your bed but Alistair is nowhere to be found. “Alistair?” You call out in a hushed whisper. “Oh, he can’t save you here.” A familiar deep voice echoes around the dark room. “No… it can’t be…” You say in disbelief. A shadowy figure appears at the end of your bed, tall and lanky. “Why not?” The servant asks. “Y-your dead… I killed you… your body is hanging from the rafters!” You shout out in anger. The figure grabs the end of the bed and leans forward into the light, rage in his eyes, glinted by the light of the gas lamps. The noose you put around his neck is cut off and he holds a very familiar looking, stained hatchet in his hand. “DOES THIS LOOK DEAD TO YOU!” The ghost exclaims, throwing the hatchet with deadly aim, right between your eyes. You duck at the last second and it thunks into the headboard behind you. “This is only a horrible nightmare!” You slink off the bed, away from the apparition. “YOU MADE MY DEATH A NIGHTMARE!” He shouts, jumping onto your bed and retrieving the hatchet. “IT’S ONLY FAIR I MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL!” He jumps off the bed and pulls back for a swing at you. “Leave me alone! You’re supposed to be dead!” You swiftly step back just in time. “AS LONG AS YOU’RE ALIVE, YOU WILL SUFFER!” He swings again and you back up again, your back hitting the wall. You hold your arms in front of your face and he swings, the hatchet hitting mere centimeters from your ear. You look at the hatchet beside your head and then at the, now very close, ghost servant. “YOU. WILL. PAY.” The ghost grits his teeth, ripping the hatchet out of the wall and slamming it square into your cranium. You feel your skull splitting in two and blood trickles down into your eyes. 

You jolt awake, sweating, and gasping for air. “Y/n?!” Alistair exclaims, scared by your sudden movement. Dawn breaks through your window and illuminates your room in bright morning light. You whip your head to look around the room but it seems only you two are in the room. “Are there any ghosts in here?” You ask Alistair, still trembling. You shift your eyes to spot any movement. “None but me.” He says, concerned. “Are you alright? Sounds like you had a bad dream.” He says, running a hand down your arm. You flinch away from him and he seemed hurt by your reaction to his touch. “Are you really Alistair?” You pull away from him and look him dead in the eyes. “Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks. “Tell me something only Alistair would know.” You demand. He raises a brow at you and you hold your ground. He sighs, giving in, “Alright, we had our first kiss after you ended Florence's life.” He says. “Anyone could’ve guessed that.” You say, still suspicious. “Alright then, when we kissed, I dipped you and you noticed I lifted my leg. And… you thought it was… cute.” Alistair huffs out embarrassed. “Oh thank god it’s you.” You sigh in relief and fall back onto him, embracing him. 

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asks concerned, petting your head. You pause for a moment, looking around the room again to see if the vengeful spirit is still there. "I promise you no one else is here. I have the executioner guarding the door, the duelists are pacing the hall, the knight is in the foyer making sure no one comes up the stairs, and the busts are distracting the living from the ceiling." Alistair reassures you. "You're safe with me. I promise you." He kisses the top of your head, and you remember your dream where the ax struck you. You whimper and curl up into a ball against Alistair. "Darling, I'm very worried about you." He runs his knuckles down your cheek. "There was a ghost… in my dream…" You say keeping an eye out. "Who." Alistair says with burning rage. "The servant, from last night." You say. "He hasn't crossed over yet into the ghost realm. Damn it. He must be stuck between regions, that's why he can invade your dreams. I can't get to him there." Alistair spits out. "But he can't harm you. Only give you bad dreams. What did he do?" He asks. "He had the hatchet that I stole to kill Florence. He cut himself down with it… and he… split my head." You hesitate. "That son of a-" Alistair growls but you cut him off by putting your hand on his chest. "I'm alright, really. It was just a bad dream." You still tremble. He grasps his hand over yours on his chest. "I promise once he crosses over, he won't be able to touch you." Alistair says, bringing your hand up and kissing it. You lay your head against his chest and try to relax before the day ahead. Your tension melts away and you finally stop trembling as Alistair holds you and pets your back. Though your paranoia still remains, you feel a sense of momentary calmness.

Chapter 8

[kryptoncat]

Take Care, Caretaker (The Haunted Mansion Ride Fic) Part 1

(Gen. Family-focused. Mix of comedy, drama, tragedy, and some romance. Main characters: The Caretaker, the Hitchhiking Ghosts, the Hatbox Ghost, and the Brides)

(Fair warning, I started writing this in 2019, the last time I was obsessed with The Haunted Mansion. I have no idea how long this current obsession will last, but I figure it's better to post a fic unfinished and come back to it later than to never post at all.)

Horace sat quietly next to his oldest brother on the church pew, trying hard not to fidget. His legs were too short to reach the floor, and he had accidentally kicked Hatty's cane a few minutes ago, earning his oldest brother's disapproving gaze. Right now Hatty's eyes were on the middle child, Ezra, whose arms were crossed beneath a frowning face, blinking away the sleep as the pastor droned on. Hatty elbowed his younger brother none too gently when Ezra didn't even try to stifle his yawn.

When the service finally ended, Hatty slowly pulled himself up with his cane, placing the source of his nickname back on his head, while Ezra grabbed Horace's hand and charged through the chattering adults. "C'mon, let's go play!"

"In the graveyard?" Horace's voice was small as Ezra pulled him away from Hatty's protests and outside of the building.

"Of course the graveyard! Where else?" Ezra rolled his eyes. Other children were already chasing each other around the graves. One of the boys ran up to them.

"Hey Ezra, let's go to the old Gracey place!" The kid pointed to the large stately mansion bordering the church's graveyard. "Milly's too scared to look in the windows."

"I am not!" A girl protested, stomping her little foot as she stood beside a tomb. "I just want someone to come with me."

Ezra dropped Horace's hand and stood between the two children. "We should all go together, and look in the windows at the same time," he said with a grin. "That way it's fair and nobody should be scared."

The other kids agreed with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Horace looked back to the adults talking near the church. Only one young man, barely twenty, stood among them with a cane. Hatty had to look up as he conversed with the pastor. His face was suitably dignified and composed, but his hand shook slightly as he leaned on the gnarled rod. None of the adults were paying attention to the children. Horace slowly followed the other kids as they crept to the end of the graveyard where the mansion stood.

Horace lagged further behind as the sleek white walls of the mansion loomed closer. He craned his neck to look at each of the dark windows, imagining someone behind them, watching him back. He returned to reality only when Ezra called his name.

"Horace! We'll leave you behind if you don't keep up!" Ezra frowned as he yelled.

"Let's go back, Ezra." Horace's eyes watered and his voice shook. "Please."

"Come on Horace; we're all doing it." One of the children said. "Don't be a chicken!"

"Hang on; I'll get him." Ezra ran back to his brother and sighed when he saw his tears. "Honestly, you miss out on all the fun." Ezra clapped Horace's shoulder and pointed back toward the cemetery. "If you don't live a little, you might as well be dead!"

. . . . .

The mansion was not the impressive-looking palace of luxury Horace remembered from his youth. Vines climbed the once-white walls and columns, and Horace could see the large amounts of undergrowth surrounding the building's perimeter as he drove closer.

Horace parked the Model T right in front of the large wrought iron gates of the graveyard near the mansion. There was no one to let him in, but there was also no lock on the gates, so Horace grabbed the flowers from the passenger seat and pushed the gates open.

The church had burned down years ago in an incident with the new electrical wiring placed in the building. But the graveyard was still there, and much larger than it had been in Horace's childhood. The number of graves may have indicated that many people thought it would be an ideal resting place; peaceful, quiet, and deep in the woods, but the haphazardly placed stones and partially filled plots betrayed less noble intentions. Since no one in town claimed to own the property, people could bury loved ones there without spending much money. And since the mansion was a ways out of town, many families chose its graveyard to bury those they felt were better off forgotten.

Dry leaves cracked beneath Horace's feet. He pulled his scarf and coat closer as a cool afternoon breeze passed him. The cemetery was just as unkempt as the mansion. Graves were covered with brush and vines, fallen tree branches littered the area, and tombs showed their age with cracks and, disturbingly, holes. Horace stepped up his pace as he searched the names of the strangers laying beneath him, not stopping until he found the one familiar name on a small gravestone. EZRA DOBBINS was carved crudely into the marker with no other epitaph, not even a date of birth or death. The writing was already fading, even though Ezra's passing wasn't that long ago. Horace wondered how much weathering the stone could take before he had to carve the words again.

Horace bent down and picked up the remains of the flowers he brought the last time he was there, and replaced them with a humble arrangement wrapped with string. A rather large tree branch had fallen behind Ezra's grave, so he removed that, chucking it into the woods. He pulled the weeds and, when he had nothing else he could clean, stood at the grave for a while, just looking at it.

His brother had always been a chatterbox when he was alive, telling stories he had heard from far-off places or of the latest gossip in town. Hatty would pretend not to be interested, sternly responding that Ezra needed to get his head out of the clouds and do something useful with his life. But Ezra would laugh and continue on until Hatty wound up invested in the stories, asking follow-up questions and interjecting with mild arguments as he sat by the fireplace with his sewing. Horace would be perfectly comfortable just listening to his brothers' banter as he swept the floors of their late parents' house or fixed the three of them tea. But now Horace was alone. There was no tea, no banter, no brothers.

The grave did not speak and Horace couldn't think of anything to say back. He finally gave a quiet, "Goodbye, Ezra," and walked away.

Though the sun had yet to sink, the air still chilled around him. Horace held onto his hat to prevent a breeze from blowing it away. As he hurriedly walked past the mansion, he noticed he was not the only person there. A woman in a striped green and black dress stood on the steps of the mansion. Dark coiled hair framed her face underneath a maid's bonnet. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms when he walked by. Horace was taken aback but didn't want to seem ungentlemanly.

"Good evening, miss." He tipped his hat. "Nice day for a walk in the cemetery."

"Oh!" She blinked at him, then forced a smile. "Yes sir, I hope you had a pleasant visit." Her smile fell to a grimace as she held her gaze in his direction. Horace shivered and turned to leave. "Have a good night, miss."

"Wait," the maid said with a sigh. "I have to ask. I noticed you cleaning a bit of the graveyard. Would you be interested in being the groundskeeper for this place?" She gestured at the mansion behind her. "It would take a lot of work, but the Gracey family pays well, believe me."

Horace now looked past her at the once pristine mansion. In all his years of coming to church here, Horace had never seen, nor met any member of the Gracey family. He wondered how the maid became employed here. The whole place gave him an odd feeling.

"I'll consider it, miss," he said with the tone of someone who's already made up his mind. "Thank you for the offer."

The maid just stared at him, and Horace felt a chill as she didn't turn away. She laughed suddenly, shaking her head, smiling as she walked back into the mansion. "Get out of here, then. I hope you come back soon." The door closed behind her.

Bewildered, Horace started the car's engine and drove down the dirt road. He relaxed as he saw the mansion become smaller in the rearview mirror. "She was certainly very strange."

"You think she's strange?" A voice cackled behind him. "Go and meet the folks inside the mansion."

Horace looked straight at the rearview mirror and into Ezra's eyes. He braked the car hard, nearly crashing it, and turned immediately to the backseat.

No one was there.

Horace breathed quickly, looking everywhere. Had he imagined Ezra's voice? He hadn't heard it in so long. He looked back at the mirror but saw only his own eyes. Horace shivered, took deep breaths to calm himself down, and started up the car again. As he drove, he recalled the face in the mirror. The skin was pulled too far back around his smile, the eyes were sunken into his skull, and the nose had completely rotted off his face. But those were Ezra's eyes.

Horace tried to get the visage out of his mind as he pulled up to his neighbor's house. Ezra had always been so full of life, he didn't want to imagine his brother… like that. Horace shivered as he thanked the man profusely for letting him borrow the motorcar, then hurriedly entered his small shack across the street. He tried to quickly close the door before he could let the cool air in, but it was too late for that.

. . . . .

Something had awakened him. The ghost rose from his grave and spotted the black Model T heading for the gates of the graveyard. It didn't matter that Horace couldn't afford new shoes for transportation, much less a newfangled motorcar; Ezra knew his brother had come to visit him.

Phineas Queeg had been peacefully resting until his friend's excited voice cut through all 6 feet of earth. "Phineas, wake up!" Ezra, ever the patient one, reached through the ground and pulled the now disturbed spirit out. Phineas groaned and sputtered, adjusting his cloak and hat before grabbing the carpet bag that materialized at his side. Ezra made a show of brushing off the dirt from Phineas's cloak before pulling him along. "Come with me; let's go!"

"Where are we going?" Phineas asked, looking around. "It's too light out to try and hitch a ride; no one would see us!"

"Ah, but he doesn't have to see us!" Ezra pointed to the man emerging from the car at the gate. Phineas could see the man was shabbily dressed with a cap and scarf, but couldn't make out details from that distance. Ezra hurried to an unmarked grave where prisoners were buried.

"Hey, Gus!" He bent down and shouted at the ground, then jumped in surprise when something tugged on his coattail. Behind him was a small man with a large beard, his hand carrying the iron ball chained to his foot. Gus covered his mouth in glee at scaring his friend, but Ezra didn't seem to mind this time.

"Over here, Gus! I have someone I want you to meet!" Ezra bounded away like a puppy chasing a new toy. Gus shrugged his shoulders and joined Phineas, who still looked groggy. The two of them followed Ezra to the cemetery's gates, where the living man had just entered, carrying a scraggly bundle of flowers.

"Are those for me? You shouldn't have!" Ezra ran up to hug the man, only to pass through him. The man barely acknowledged it, save for shivering and adjusting his scarf. Phineas and Gus looked at each other but did not comment.

"This here's my baby brother, Horace," said Ezra, quickly turning around to walk beside the living man and attempting to pat him on the back. "Phineas, you remember him, don't cha?"

"We've met?" Phineas studied the man. Phineas became good friends with Ezra towards the end of his life, but he didn't remember ever meeting Ezra's family. Horace did look familiar, though.

"Yeah, you did! It was just the week before I died." Phineas struggled to remember meeting Ezra's brother. The time surrounding Ezra's death had been muddled by drink. As Phineas's memories dangled out of his grasp, Horace reached Ezra's grave and started replacing the old flowers with new ones. Ezra watched him, oddly silent, his thoughtful expression mimicking his brother's. Phineas decided he would ask questions later.

Horace then walked over to a fallen branch behind the stone and started dragging it away. "This place is a mess," Horace grumbled.

"Hey, sorry I didn't clean up before you came." Ezra walked after him, his jovial demeanor returning. "You know you shouldn't expect someone's home to be all prim and proper if you come over without calling first!"

Gus tugged on Phineas's cloak and pointed to the tall grass and debris on the other graves. "You're right, Gus." Phineas bent down to pick up a stick, but his hand went right through it. "It's not like we could clean up, even if we tried."

"Well, not with that attitude," Ezra rubbed his chin in thought. "I'm sure if we wait until midnight, all grab it together, and really believe in ourselves, we can definitely move that stick."

"What exciting evening plans we have," Phineas sighed.

Horace chucked the branch into the woods, then walked back to Ezra's grave, slouching and solemn. The ghosts gathered around him. Ezra sighed at his gloomy brother.

"Sorry he's not much entertainment. Never was, really. Guess there can only be so much cha-rizz-ma in one family." Ezra threw his bony arm over and partially through Horace's shoulders. "Still, he is my little brother." The ghost grinned suddenly.  "And what kind of friendly big brother would I be if I didn't look after 'im every once and a while? So, what do you guys say - wanna tag along?"

Phineas smiled. "We haven't gotten away from this place in so long; I'm with you." Gus nodded vigorously and pumped a fist in the air.

Ezra grinned at his brother. "What about you, bro? Mind the company?"

"Goodbye, Ezra," Horace said to the grave, then walked away. Gus slapped his knees as Phineas guffawed and held his stomach.

"Hey! You can't just reject me like that!" Ezra feigned distress and placed a hand over his chest he ran to catch up with Horace. "I'm hurt! How could my own brother be so cruel?" Ezra tried to knock off Horace's hat but only succeeded in messing his hair a bit.

Phineas subsided his laughter when he saw the maid frowning at him from the mansion's steps. She was known as Sara Everson, the only living person to set foot in the mansion for quite some time. She did not look amused.

Phineas tapped Ezra on the shoulder to get his attention, and both of them doffed their hats to her. "Lovely to see you, miss!" Ezra said as he bowed. Gus, with his tattered robe, curtseyed.

"This here's my dear brother," Ezra continued. "We're going to travel with him for a while. Surely there's nothing wrong with a little family visit?"

Sara furrowed her eyes at him, and that's when Horace decided to greet her, tipping his hat just as Ezra had. "Good evening, Miss. Nice day for a walk in the cemetery."

"Oh!" She said in surprise, addressing Horace. "Yes sir, I hope you had a pleasant visit."

"Thank you so much; we sure did!" Ezra winked at her.

"We won't be gone long, Miss," Phineas added. "You know us, always traveling, always coming back."

"Ha, ha! If another tree falls on the road, we might not make it back!" Ezra pointed to the debris around the mansion and laughed again.

The maid sighed. "Wait," she said. Horace and the ghosts looked up at her.

"I have to ask. I noticed you cleaning a bit of the graveyard. Would you be interested in being the groundskeeper for this place? It would take a lot of work, but the Gracey family pays well, believe me."

Phineas raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, and Gus looked at Horace expectantly. Ezra also turned in delight to his brother.

Horace did not look so enthused. "I'll consider it, Miss. Thank you for the offer." Ezra kept his grin, but furrowed his brow in thought. Phineas wondered if he was getting an idea.

Sara was still staring at them, so Phineas waved cheerily. "Goodbye for now, Miss Sara!"

"Please don’t cry yourself to sleep in my absence!" Ezra bowed with a flourish. Gus copied the bow as best as he could while holding the metal ball.

Sara laughed and shook her head at them. "Get out of here, then. I hope you come back soon." She disappeared into the mansion.

Horace stared for a moment at the place where Sara stood, then turned to the motorcar, the ghosts following behind him. While Horace climbed into the driver's seat, the ghosts simply phased through the doors and into the back.

"You know, it would be nice to have a caretaker for the old place," Phineas said, settling down beside a window and placing his bag by his feet. "But your brother probably already has a job."

"I'm sure he does." Ezra rolled his eyes and leaned back in the middle of the seat as the car started to move. "Hey, Horace. Are you still stuck sweeping the streets? Maybe plunging a few toilets? Or did you finally grow a spine and tell your boss to shove it?"

Phineas and Gus stared at Ezra, who was suddenly frowning. They jumped a bit in surprise when Horace spoke.

"She was certainly very strange."

Ezra laughed loudly. "You think she's strange?" He looked at his brother's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Go and meet the folks inside the mansion."

The car suddenly lurched to a stop, and the ghosts had to quickly hold on to each other to avoid flying out. Horace turned around, his face inches away from Ezra's.

"Uhhh, boo?" Ezra said.

"Ezra! We talked about this!" Phineas's voice was stern as he faced his friend. "No scaring the living while they are driving these contraptions!" Gus nodded in agreement.

"I didn't mean to! Not this time!" Ezra was honestly shocked. He stared at his brother as Horace looked frantically around the car, breathing quickly. "Look, he can't see us now."

Gus tapped Ezra's knee and pointed back and forth between Ezra and Horace. Phineas leaned over and nodded. "Gus has a point. Maybe because you two are brothers, you can materialize in front of him more easily. You should probably be more careful until we reach his house."

Ezra frowned but leaned back as Horace got out and shakily cranked the car. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I guess you two will have to do without my dulcet tones for a while. In the meantime, Gus, why don't you tell us a story?"

Gus nodded and stroked his long beard thoughtfully.

Horace parked in front of a tidy house a little while later.

"Wow." Phineas shook his head and prepared to leave the car. "That was more information about hyenas than I ever wanted to know."

"Eh, I've heard worse," Ezra lied. He phased through the car and faced the home in front of him. Phineas appeared at his side and smiled cheerily. "What a lovely house. It seems the flowers he gave you were from his own garden." Phineas pointed to the marigolds at the perimeter of the house. Gus was already among the flowers, taking a big sniff.

"He's done really well for himself," Ezra stared in awe at the clean windows and newly painted wood. Horace stood at the door and knocked.

"I knew it." Ezra looked cross as he watched his brother thank the man in the house for lending him the car and letting him pick the flowers. Horace then walked across the street to what could only be described nicely as an eye-sore. "And you said you could make it just fine on your own, didn't you?" Phineas could feel the bitterness in Ezra's voice.

Horace walked the path to his hovel, breathing unsteadily, his face clearly still shaken. Phineas stared at the man, trying to remember meeting him, but his mind persisted in coming up blank. "Ezra, are you sure I met your brother when I was still alive?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Ezra crossed his arms, still staring at Horace. "You two didn't get on too well, though, I don't think." Ezra shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry about it. If you don't remember him, he might not remember you."

Horace walked up the rickety porch steps with his key, and Ezra followed his brother without looking back. Gus finally ran across the street, clearly unhappy with his unsuccessful attempts at trying to pick the neighbor's flowers. Phineas adjusted his hat with a sigh and walked on.

Horace shakily unlocked his front door and stepped inside, shivering as his brother and friends walked right through him.

[parksaversnews]

Haunted Mansion Makeover: New Experiences, Expanded Grounds, and Ghostly Shop at Disneyland 2024

Grim grinning ghosts, come out to socialize! The Haunted Mansion at Disneyland has just unveiled its spooktacular new experiences, and foolish mortals everywhere are dying to get in on the fun. From expanded grounds to a ghostly new shop, there's more to explore than ever before in this beloved New Orleans Square attraction!

A Spirited Metamorphosis

The Haunted Mansion has always been a fan favorite, but now it's undergone a truly spirited transformation. The newly expanded grounds officially opened today, inviting guests to immerse themselves in enhanced theming that builds on the rich lore of this iconic attraction.

As you approach the mansion, you'll first encounter the elegant Magnolia Park. This shady oasis, nestled between Tiana's Palace and the Haunted Mansion, offers a perfect spot to rest your weary bones or enjoy some live entertainment. It's an ideal place to savor a Mickey-shaped beignet from the nearby Mint Julep Bar while soaking in the atmosphere.

Ghostly Gardens and Eerie Enhancements

Beyond the gates of the mansion lies a world of new, cultivated grounds that are simply to die for. The expanded queue area now features themed gardens inspired by some of the attraction's most famous residents. Keep an eye out for elements paying homage to Master Gracey, Madame Leota, and even the mansion's elusive one-eyed cat.

Imagineers have outdone themselves with the attention to detail. You might spot a charming greenhouse where the groundskeepers grow their spectral flora, or encounter new statuary that seems to watch your every move. Don't worry, though – the beloved pet cemetery and horse-drawn funeral hearse still reside on the grounds, ready to greet you with their macabre charm.

Accessibility Improvements

The Haunted Mansion is now more welcoming than ever to all guests. Those using mobility devices can now use the main queue and entrance, enjoying the same spine-tingling anticipation as everyone else. After the ride, they'll exit via a new accessible elevator that extends the storytelling with a gallery of original Imagineering artwork.

A Ghostly Shopping Experience

But wait, there's more! Coming this winter, a new retail shop will materialize next to the Haunted Mansion. Madame Leota's Somewhere Beyond promises to be a hauntingly delightful shopping experience.  

This former carriage house, now home to the mysterious medium herself, will offer an array of Haunted Mansion and "The Nightmare Before Christmas" themed merchandise. From eerie apparel to ghostly home decor, you'll find plenty of reasons to "hurry back" throughout the year.

The Return of Haunted Mansion Holiday

As if all this wasn't exciting enough, the Haunted Mansion is currently decked out in its seasonal "Haunted Mansion Holiday" overlay. This fan-favorite transformation, inspired by "Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas," will run through the holiday season into early 2025.

Final Thoughts

The expanded Haunted Mansion experience at Disneyland is a dream come true for fans of the supernatural. With its new immersive queue, enhanced accessibility, and upcoming ghostly gift shop, there's never been a better time to visit this happy haunting ground. So gather your courage, foolish mortals, and prepare for a ghostly good time at the new and improved Haunted Mansion. After all, there's always room for one more! Read the full article

[maximuswolf]

Neil Peart from Rush is my favorite lyricist. Who's yours?

Neil Peart from Rush is my favorite lyricist. Who's yours? Neil manages to write such personal lyrics, while speaking to the universal human condition. Some of my favs:When he speaks about finding your 'soul mate' through all the randomness of life in Ghost of a Chance:Like a million little doorwaysAll the choices we madeAll the stages we passed throughAll the roles we playedFor so many different directionsOur separate paths might have turnedWith every door that we openedEvery bridge that we burnedSomehow we find each otherThrough all that masqueradeSomehow we found each otherSomehow we have stayedIn a state of graceI don't believe in destinyOr the guiding hand of fateI don't believe in foreverOr love as a mystical stateI don't believe in the stars or the planetsOr angels watching from aboveBut I believe there's a ghost of a chanceWe can find someone to loveAnd make it lastHe has a bunch that deal with anxiety/stress, but 2 of my favs are Far Cry:One day I feel I'm on top of the worldAnd the next it's falling in on meI can get back onI can get back onOne day I feel I'm ahead of the wheelAnd the next it's rolling over meI can get back onI can get back onand how to overcome it in The Enemy Within:Things crawl in the darknessThat imagination spinsNeedles at your nerve endsCrawl like spiders on your skinPounding in your templesAnd a surge of adrenalineEvery muscle tense to fence the enemy withinI'm not giving in to security under pressureI'm not missing out on the promise of adventureI'm not giving up on implausible dreamsExperience to extremesExperience to extremesSuspicious-looking strangerFlashes you a dangerous grinShadows across your windowWas it only trees in the wind?Every breath a static chargeA tongue that tastes like tinSteely-eyed outside to hide the enemy withinAnd some of his most powerful lyrics ever, The Pass. It was something that resonated me when I was at a low point and had some very difficult thoughts. The last passage really kinda hit home that the easy way out doesn't achieve anything. You need to fight and realize that you're not alone.proud swagger out of the schoolyardwaiting for the world’s applauserebel without a consciencemartyr without a causestatic on your frequencyelectrical storm in your veinsraging at unreachable glorystraining at invisible chainsand now you’re trembling on a rocky ledgestaring down into a heartless seacan’t face life on a razor’s edgenothing’s what you thought it would beAll of us get lost in the darknessDreamers learn to steer by the starsAll of us do time in the gutterDreamers turn to look at the carsturn around and turn around and turn aroundTurn around and walk the razor’s edgeDon’t turn your backAnd slam the door on meit’s not as if this barricadeblocks the only roadit’s not as if you’re all alonein wanting to explodesomeone set a bad examplemade surrender seem all rightthe act of a noble warriorwho lost the will to fightand now you’re trembling on a rocky ledgestaring down into a heartless seadone with life on a razor’s edgenothing’s what you thought it would beno hero in your tragedyno daring in your escapeno salutes for your surrendernothing noble in your fateChrist, what have you done?RIP Neal - you were the best. Submitted May 03, 2024 at 10:33AM by icepick3383 https://ift.tt/HBUPq0Y via /r/Music

[theheadlessgroom]

Distracted was putting it mildly, in all honesty: It seemed like Randall had two set states of mind, in that he was either daydreaming about the future (a future life in California, his mind filling up with many sugared thoughts and hopeful suppositions about a happy wedded life with Emily, with the Gracey’s right next door...), or was fretting about the future (a future in which all those happy dreams would never come to fruition, all because his neck had a very unpleasant run-in with a blade…)

In truth, he was still watching out of the corner of his eye to see if his would-be murderer was skulking about: Maybe his death wouldn’t take place in an attic, with Emily by his side, but as they were working to change the future, what if, in doing so, it changed the trajectory of his death? Maybe Pennyworth caught onto the plan, and decided to kill him first, hating the idea of an Irishman getting his hands on the de Clair fortune even more than he did the idea of the Gracey’s son doing so...

…or what if he found about his and Dorian’s friendship, and decided the best way to hurt the man who stole his meal ticket was by murdering his best friend, just as a cruel way of twisting the knife, punishing him for what he had done, how he’d completely uprooted Pennyworth’s carefully pruned plan...

…or what if he decided to kill Randall just to vent his frustrations? After all, no one would bat an eye at an Irishman going missing one night, never to be seen or heard from again-hell, some might say Nicholas Pennyworth was doing the city a favor by ridding it of such filth...

All of these thoughts and more had danced around his head at one point or another, but out of a fear of making his bride and his best friend worry, Randall put on a smile for the two of them, saying, “Oh, I’ve been fine, really; I’m a bit tired, yes, but that’s nothing a cup of coffee can’t fix. Other than that, I’ve...I’ve been just fine.”

@beatingheart-bride

"I can't blame you!" Randall had gaped as he listened to all of this, very grateful to have this moment of peace, spent venting with his bride-to-be and his best friend: He couldn't say he'd had nearly as long and embarrassing a day as they had thus far (at least, not when it came to discussions about having children), but it had been a very busy morning, with a lot of running back and forth, feeling like he was juggling at least twenty tasks at once.

"And here I thought I'd been having a rough morning," he laughed in exasperation, sweeping a hand through his black curls before saying, "But you two have me beat, oh, I'm so sorry you had to sit through all of that! I'm glad you were at least able to escape and come down here!"

"So are we," Dorian laughed tiredly, able to have a sense of humor about the embarrassing discussion earlier. At the very least, he was able to laugh it off, far more than he'd be able to laugh off the gossip, the only part of the brunch discussion he didn't bring up to Randall-he considered it, admittedly, but he didn't want his best friend to know what his parents were saying about his beloved mother...

[askchammy]

DND success!

Hey guys! For those of who who follow @ask-dcf​ , y’all may have heard that I was doing a gaming session, and well, it was a success on both ends!

I’ve been meaning to try a DnD session for some time, but I do have problems with focusing entirely due to lack of visuals or auditory things, so as an autistic person it can be hard to concentrate fully. But my friend managed to help out with it by adding the appropriate musics and visuals per tavern!

We were playing the Twisted Taverns as a means of a chill session to show the ropes as it were, for the first session, the Wizards Wateringhole, gave me a chance to flesh out my first character: Laxar the Sorceress Rabbitfolk!

Born as orphans during a thunderstorm alongside with her twin sister Franny, she and her were taken in by a kindly human painter whom lived in a cottage surrounded by many animals and nature as far as the eye could see. For the time they were together, everything was peaceful for the most part, with the exception of Laxar getting into trouble most of the time by being a little prankster to some villagers far away from the cottage. However, because that Laxar was born with lightning magic, her powers were difficult to control. One day an incident went a little too far when Laxar’s powers would get her into more trouble than she already did. She doesn’t know where her powers come from, and neither did the wizarding school she was assigned to in order to try and help her with her powers. Eventually, after some time, Laxar decided this would be a personal journey for her to go on to learn more about the origins of her lightning powers. She was equipped with a lightning staff to help manage her powers better, and went on her journey not only to better herself, but to help support her founding family. It’s speculated that Franny herself went on her own adventures, but where the path takes her we have yet to unravel...

Which segways us into the Wizards Wateringhole! Laxar made her way here alongside with her bag that the human painter gave to her. It was just as magical as it can get! From Laxar making friendly conversation with the bartender and a half-tiefling warlock named Ferris, to helping Data craft a potion for his journey ahead, to Laxar forming an unlikely friendship with Dalla (methinks there might be more shenanigans with the two given Dalla’s mischievous behavior and how she ended up in Laxar’s bag XDD). There was a plant lady which Laxar met earlier in the lounge, and she seemed to be arguing with a tiefling of sorts in terms for a “quest for vengeance” as it were. The tiefling warns Laxar that this isn’t her path to take, but Laxar couldn’t help but feel bad for the plant lady in distress, she had to help somehow! On the way when trying to locate her room, she encounters Dalla again and a smiling purple spider-man (forgot his name-), whom checks her in to a room since the plant lady is asleep at the moment, and we paused where Laxar takes her sleep in one of the beds which will be able to take her to the land of dreams~ Will there be secrets along the way? Only time will tell!

And the 2nd one, the Grand Shanty, has us RPing as Conner’s characters Seeker and Cherry, which I took the role of Cherry as the two have a bit of father-daughter bonding time, since Seeker decided to bring her here as a means of help perking her up. Things are swell for the most part, though there was the giant crab that Cherry devoured but it made her sick in the process XDD There was also some intruders abroad threatening the ship’s commander, these pirates were led by this lightning dragonborn whom seems to be in league with a “Captain Gracey” of sorts. They took their leave for now, and this would also be the place where Cherry first met Felly, which the two had their bonding moment and when Cherry decides to crush BIG TIME, much to Seeker’s amusement and Cherry’s embarrassment XDD The next day the same pirates came aboard, about to finish off the ship’s commander, but Cherry made it just in time to stop them, but unfortunately this derives their attention to her as she tries to run off, but since she saw too much she was about to be finished off by the lightning dragonborn until Seeker came in the nick of time to save the day and go full on papa wolf! Felly was also accompanied by a party of her own, and there was a plasmoid and shark man that helped assisted their heroes in their brutal fight against the pirates! Once they retreated, all was well, though Cherry deep down felt a sense of regret in her on her father and whatnot...

All in all, ‘twas a fun session no doubt about that! And I look forward to what else will be in store for the future!

Until then, you guys have a good one, Ashy out~

[just-my-type-x]

Opinion on Brad and ex

Hi, so, i have an opinion and idk how many people read post comments, so I will post something that everyone can see.

Thanks to @brad-is-my-dante 's investigation upon the Brad and Gracey story, even tho it is not my place to address it with my own opinion, but things are going on another direction and fast.

Brad has been receiving bad comments about his behaviour regarding his relationship with gracey. Correct me if I'm wrong, but in case it was something so special or serious about their relationship, both parts would've made it public. In this case, g is the only one who pushed everything. At least this is what we all see. Regarding the clips posted by the amazing @brad-is-my-dante, clips are made in a position where Brad doesn't even see what's going on. I'm not saying he didn't really know, i just think they were shot before and she just made sure it is OK to post them after showing him what she filmed. I may be wrong, but she was still very pushy, trying to show the word that she's around him. I don't think she liked the idea of people considering he's still single. Yet, this is not the way to approach things, especially because Brad hates the public life regarding his love life.

Brad never posted anything, not when he was on vacation and fans photographed them together, not even on his birthday, when, again, someone else saw them together with his family. He keeps everything private because he knows how social media is. Even gracey said that when she started dating him she started getting hate. Mostly, Brad wants to protect his decisions and people around him. Her, whatsoever, seized the opportunity and started to write a song about it, which, by the way, is out after her song what a waste, so these songs actually make a storyline, as her other 2 songs that are about to come out. I'm sincerely curious about what she has to say about Brad next.

On the other hand, we are also very protective over him. I mean, i know we consider him pretty much perfect, but let's not forget no human in this univers is flawless. But still, i don't think he would be toxic, or at least give toxic vibes, since him himself doesn't like toxic vibes in his personal life.

The vamps have lots of sad songs with deep meaning and yet no one called their exes toxic just because somenof the lyrics would mirror the events in their past relationships. Again, with gracey's music, people would assume how much she suffered over her last relationship because she keeps reminding everyone before every song she's about to release. I mean yeah ok, you prepare the ground for your song so it would be listened by other people who don't join ur fandom because they figure out what type of person u are.

All in all, i think the relationship ended in good terms, mostly because they all still follow each other, so i guess that if it was such a big deal, they wouldn't have each other on Instagram. I believe she wants to capture his attention and be like "u made me suffer, I'm telling everyone", in hopes that he will say anything to her. Brad has good taste in music and i bet he doesn't listen to hers 😂 so he might not know what's going on, maybe he doesn't even know what she's talking about in her songs.

[britishassistant]

The Villainous Paranoiac Experiences Culture Shock

The Hannya of the Gracey and its Kitsune.

Tricky, cruel, deceptive, jealous, ungrateful.

That’s what you’ve been called ever since Nanji settled. It’s been whispered behind your backs and said outright to your faces.

Ever since Chichiue told you to take a more appropriate form if you both were going to eat dinner properly with the family, and his eyebrows drew down when you stuttered out that you were trying, you were, but Nanji couldn’t change back from the red fox that quailed under the glare of Chichiue’s eagle.

You were sent to their room in the middle of the meal because of that, Asahiko-nii-sama’s exaggerated faces of disgust, Leota-nee-sama’s quiet yet smug vindication and Enji-nii-sama’s open glares of disapproval following you both as you left.

Seven isn’t an…uncommon age for a dæmon to settle. Unusual, to be sure, enough to raise and lower eyebrows, prompt the start of a inquiry before the asker remembers which family they’re about to question.

But it’s just edging into more common for “early bloomers” that it’s usually assumed that you were closer to eight than seven when Nanji did settle. Besides, there are kids out there who have had their dæmons settle at younger ages, after all.

All the studies you’ve read say this phenomenon is near uniformly a result of a traumatic event or hostile living environment. But that’s probably more of a generalization than anything.

Still. At least the names and insults weren’t so bad. They were just words after all.

At least the people using them would steer clear. Keep at least a two foot distance between themselves, the Hannya of the Gracey, and its Kitsune. As though you and Nanji actually had any power to curse anyone with.

At least they wouldn’t try to keep fucking touching your dæmon every five minutes.

So pause. Rewind a bit. You and Nanji and your old middle school crush and his dæmon (who you’ve certainly gotten over, and who does not look any better than he had in middle school now his Sonata has settled, thank you very much) have been transported to another world. This world is called Twisted Wonderland.

The people of this world are soulless assholes.

Because none of them have dæmons.

And the vast majority of them you have met so far are assholes, in some shape or form.

You have yet to ascertain whether the latter is dependent on the former.

And yet they keep acting like normal people in spite of this absence, rather than the traumatized wrecks that are in textbooks in history class, all dead-eyed and unresponsive. So maybe there’s something to the headmaster’s claim that their dæmons are…inside them, somehow.

Though that just gives you the awful mental image of a person lifting a mouse or an insect dæmon to their lips and just…swallowing. Nanji nips your hand for putting that lovely idea in both your heads.

But back to the topic at hand: The people here don’t have dæmons. They have never had dæmons. So it’s understandable that initially all of them don’t quite understand that there’s a difference between them and just another talking animal, like Grim.

That it is NOT OKAY to try to scoop them up or punt them around like they do to Grim (and honestly, you’re not really okay with them doing that to Grim either— it’s why you and Yuuken trade off who has the monster cat perched on their shoulders or in their arms and out of harm’s way whenever you both can). That’s just down to cultural differences. You can understand it, if you cock your head, squint your eyes, and are very, very sleep-deprived.

What is not understandable is the assholes who think it’s hilarious to try to keep touching Sonata and Nanji even after you’ve repeatedly told them “no”.

Some of that might be Nanji’s fault. Though at the time it hadn’t seemed like a bad idea, considering how many curious would-be touchers immediately jerked away and lost interest permanently after he blurted out, “It’s a sex thing!!”

(It’s not exactly a sex thing, more of an intimacy thing at most. But there’s something much more visceral and back-the-fuck-off about “touching a dæmon is like shoving your hands down a stranger’s pants” compared to “touching a dæmon is the realization of a very deep and intimate bond between you and your partner”.)

But of course, many is not all.

And there’s always going to be some assholes who think that seeing how easily they can get away with harassment is a “fun game” rather than a creepy and messed up power play. Just like back home.

Yuuken and Sonata have it much worse than you and Nanji.

You’d thought the muskox form she settled into was noble, dignified, a perfect embodiment of Yuuken’s diligence and strength. (No, it has not made your crush on him worse, shut up.)

The only problem is that a muskox is not as small a creature as a fox. So while you can physically pick up Nanji and move him out of reach if some punks decide they want to cause trouble, poor Sonata has no such defense. She has to move away if they get between her and Yuuken, and their distance limit is so much smaller than your own, and both of them look so trapped—

It surprises everyone but Nanji and yourself when you take a page from Deuce’s book and ball your fist up to punch the asshole trying to bury his hand in the thick fur of Sonata’s flank.

The resulting crack is not from the asshole’s nose breaking, unfortunately.

You haven’t ever really punched anybody before, hadn’t ever been in a situation where you were justified in your retaliation.

Of course you manage to fuck it up on your first try.

Nanji does not thank you for the resulting limp in his one good leg until your hand and his paw heals, even if he understands why you did it. You give him lots of petting in apology, carefully avoiding the spots where his fur is now patchy and the skin is ridged with scars.

(And isn’t that a fun experience, whenever the ex-overblots’ eyes wander over him, catch sight of what they inflicted on you both, and suddenly can’t look at anything else fast enough. None of them have actually, explicitly apologized to either of you for it.)

Yuuken and Sonata hover over you both like concerned mother hens, despite how often and repeatedly you tell them this is not their fault and you’d do it again in a heartbeat. Sonata actually offers to let Nanji ride on her back while he heals.

You try joking you’d get jealous, so it’d be better not to, only for Yuuken to offer to piggyback you around campus as well.

Ace teases you mercilessly for how strangled you sound when you squeak out that that won’t be necessary, and Nanji buries his head under his tail and refuses to come out for the rest of the day.

Deuce is more concerned with teach you how to throw a punch properly, so you don’t hurt yourself next time.

Jack provides Nanji with a smaller version of the splint he sometimes uses if he hurts his paws when in Wolf Mode, which does help a bit, even if it does feel slightly surreal to feel the phantom press of the medical implement on your hand.

Grim delights in setting the assholes on fire whenever they’re within reach. Whether he can get away with it is another factor he doesn’t seem willing to take into consideration.

Crowley scolds him and the rest of Ramshackle by extension for “violent behavior on school premises”, and resorts to subtly threatening to cut off your food money whenever you try to pressure him to actually do something about your harassers, as though it’s somehow your and Yuuken’s faults for having dæmons.

As though it’s Sonata and Nanji’s faults for existing.

You resort to scribbling increasingly insulting caricatures of the stupid birdbrain headmaster for your theory wall to vent your frustration, in absence of any concrete way to get back at him. Nanji chews the cushion in your armchair to near rags as you pin them to the wall with more force than is strictly warranted.

Yuuken and Sonata turn out to be far more proactive than you when it comes to dealing with grudges of this kind.

Or, at least, more willing to go along with plans that allow them to do so.

You know Ace had a hand in it. His brand of vindictiveness and humiliation is pretty distinctive. Ortho is also clearly a culprit, thanks to the technological mishaps that had one of your tormentors in actual tears. From the garish, clashing pink and petty sparkles that have been added to Crowley’s attire, you’re fairly sure Epel was involved too.

Sebek…is a participant you’re on the fence about, for his conflicting claims that it was a childish prank to pull on the bullies and headmaster and that both parties had whatever fate they now suffered coming to them. Even if he wasn’t directly involved, you’re pretty sure he was in on it enough to not spill the details.

But the sudden influx of logs, which would require someone with an above average level of strength and/or the help of an animal that specialized in moving large burdens over distance?

Combined with the fact that Jack and Deuce were as mystified as you, Grim, and Nanji at the results of the prank?

Well, even if Yuuken hadn’t shot you a subtle wink (which most certainly did not have your cheeks heating, no sir) in Ramshackle’s kitchen while the two of you prepared dinner to the sound of Sonata’s quiet laughter, you’re pretty sure you would’ve worked it out sooner or later.

For now, you and Nanji are just glad that they’re both here with you to help navigate this Twisted Wonderland of soulless assholes.

Even if some of them aren’t as bad as the others.

[sneezefiction]

different things

nishinoya x reader

a/n: honestly, i struggle with miscommunication. things really can go wrong if you dont voice your assumptions, world views, and plans for life. this fic kind of addresses that. sorry to both you and baby noya :,,(

warnings: angst, break ups

wc: 1230

inspired by: the song Different Things by Gracey and @lol-dafuq for angsty nishinoya ideas :,) thanks b

---

There was a time when summer brought giggles and sugary sweets. Where you and Nishinoya found yourself spending warm, sleepless nights counting stars and bantering about whatever stupid thing Tanaka did earlier that day. 

You would fondly reminisce over these high school summers. Noya never failing to bring a whole box of popsicles, eating most of them himself, and a large, quilted blanket to lay out on a flatter part of the roof. How his big, brown eyes light up when they meet yours and how quickly he would run up to hug you, spinning your body around in a dizzying circle. 

There was a time when you thought that summer was made for this boy. And when you thought that this boy might even be made for you.

Yes, somehow you believed you would always be apart of his adventures. That he would factor you into his future as you had done for him. That Nishinoya might see marriage… kids even with you. Sharing summer hazed, late-night conversations and firefly catching endeavors together until you were both old and gray. 

Instead, you’re sitting hunched over on your bathroom floor again. It’s a place of solitude for you. A fortress from the outside world that, even if just for a few minutes, you’ll find yourself hiding in daily. The cold tiles underfoot keep your mind from going numb, back pressed up against the side of the tub. Your leg keeps falling asleep, so you lean the pressure of your body weight onto the other knee every once in a while, but that’s about the extent of your movements.

This “hiding in the bathroom” habit probably stemmed from some silly fear you had as a child, but for now, it’s doing the trick. It’s like a bitterly cold hug, without the physical touch that seems to mock you. Nothing seems to measure up to Noya’s hugs, so you subconsciously have seemed to deprive yourself altogether.

You periodically catch yourself holding in a deep, heavy breath. It’s an attempt to lessen the emptiness that sits in the pit of your stomach. Something you’ve been battling against since the bubbly, blonde-tufted boy left you.

---

Nishinoya wasn’t one to sit still. Never one to fear the unknown. Unwilling to say no to an opportunity.

It was what you’d always admired about him. He is individualistic. Driven. Always staying unapologetically himself.

You hadn’t realized that this might also apply to your relationship.

After high school, you both chose programs at the same university. Life seemed to replicate that of your high school years. You walked the cozy campus, hand-in-hand. Coffee’s on the weekend, dancing at parties together, big squishy hugs, and late nights.

But Nishinoya wanted more. And unfortunately, he assumed you knew that he would need more than just you in his life.

Noya wasn’t prepared to settle down. Not for you. Not for anyone, really. To say that you were both on wildly different pages, would be a terrible understatement. 

So when he told you he was ready to travel the world, you accepted it with a big smile on your face, not realizing the extent of his decision.

Both you and Noya were in the final months of your senior year at university. You didn’t question his plans, since a few weeks of travel before summer seemed entirely reasonable to you, especially when it came to Nishinoya. He would want to clear his head and get his energy out before searching for a job. 

But when he showed you his travel plans, everything became all but fine.

The world as you knew it had suddenly crashed down on your head, leaving you a bleeding, empty mess.

—-

Tears and shouts of betrayal ensued. No, it wasn’t your shining moment, but Nishinoya wasn’t exactly an angel here either.

He had never seen you so hurt. Noya knew you had loved him. He knew the relationship you both shared was precious and one-of-a-kind. But he also knew he needed to go and he always believed you understood that this portion of his life was subject to change at all times. Miscommunication at its finest.

He’d lived spontaneously and openly since he was little and had no intention of changing.

The flight ticket he was holding onto explained his trip to Europe and his schedule ranged all the way into the next year. His plane would leave early May and he would not get back till June of next year. 

All without you.

His thoughtlessness had your head spinning. That he could make plans without telling you what it meant for your relationship. How he didn’t bother to ask you to join him.

You would’ve come with if he’d wanted you to go. You even asked him if he had planned on taking you.

He hadn’t.

The way he mentioned going away so casually as if you wouldn’t break down in tears at the thought of him leaving you. 

—-

The problem is, you thought you knew him. You thought he would stay for you. Really you never had any idea what he’d wanted in the first place. Clearly, he didn’t know you well either.

You did what made sense to do, defending your last shreds of dignity: You kicked him out, punched your wall, resulting in you needing someone to stitch up your drywall, and texted him hours later as bluntly as possible that the relationship needed to be over. His response was even more painful. “Okay, y/n. I’m sorry. Thanks for everything.”

Not a, “Please don’t break up with me!” Not a, “Come with me, I love you!” Nothing. He didn’t want you enough to stay. Enough to take you with him. You became dead weight. A piece of his life that he planned to retire from the beginning.

---

As time went by, you forced yourself to mull over his choice.

The one that beckoned him to leave you.

To chase after something that required you to let him go.

The choice that shattered your heart.

It was just one conversation, ending as quickly as it began, but somehow it managed to knock you off your feet for months. It ended a lifetime of inside jokes, patterns you weren’t prepared to let go of, and the most gratifying relationship you’d ever experienced.

Gravity decided to drag you to the floor whenever it could, pushing you to experience the physical agony of losing someone you thought would be permanent. The boy you had sharpied into your life. The one where you had intricately woven his and your path together in your mind.

But he just couldn’t see it. He never would.

Now it’s August. It’s been about 4 months since he’d left you. 4 months since he’d last messaged you. It’s been the loneliest, most confusing, most depressing months of your life. 

To think that years ago, you could’ve shared this perfect, cloudless day with the boy you loved. Still love somewhere deep down.

It’s getting later in the day, the small bathroom window allowing the sun to show off its golden rays and the swirling clouds, boasting hues of pink and blue. All colors you associate with Noya. 

But instead of letting the heaviness in your heart suffocate you like you usually do, you decide to pull yourself up, off of the freezing bathroom floor tile. 

You blink away the tears in your eyes.

It’s time to find someone else who reminds you of summer. Someone who will stay with you. Someone that will take you with them no matter where they go. 

And with that, you decide: It’s time to move on.

[holidaysat221b]

2020′s Halloween at 221b - A Sherlolly Celebration Master List

Below is the 2020 Halloween at 221b Master List, complete with where they’re archived, mult-chapter or not, complete or not, and rating.  In progress fics are marked in bold as a reminder for a mod to periodically check for updates. 

Some of this year’s submissions have been featured before, some were written years ago, and some are brand new for this year.  We have edits, fics, a pumpkin, and even a youtube video; plenty to look at and reblog, kudo, or comment on.

If I have missed a submission or made a mistake on the list, please let me know.

As always, the complete Master List for all years can be found here.

2020 Sherlolly Halloween - Created by @mel-loves-all​ A Ghost and Mrs. Muir AU   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

2020 Sherlolly Halloween - Created by @mel-loves-all Theme: Gothic Mystery AU   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

2020 Sherlolly Halloween - Created by @mel-loves-all Theme: Underworld   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

The Accursed Huntsman of Bodmin Moor - Written by @mizjoely​ Late one night, on a lonely, wind-swept moor, midwife Molly Hooper has a supernatural encounter that will changer her life - but for the better, or for the worse?   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

The Addams Family - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Sherlolly Addams Family AU   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

The Adventure of the St Bartholomew Vampire - Written by @darnedchild Bodies that had been found drained of blood are mysteriously disappearing from the morgue. Could it be the work of a vampire? Or is there something even more sinister stalking the dark streets of London? - Written for the Halloween at 221B - A Sherlolly Celebration Fest. A Victorian vampire story written in several short chapters.   (Repost from 2016′s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated M)

Banshee - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Sherlock’s the head of his family with Mycroft away, but he isn’t prepared to deal with Molly, a banshee who once harassed his older brother. She’s not as frightening as she appears…in fact, he thinks he could be falling for her.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

British Supernatural - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo This week on British Supernatural, Molly conducts a séance in a manor on the moors whilst Sherlock investigates the hellhounds that are rumored to roam the land.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

Cozy Autumn Night In - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Cozy Autumn night in   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

A Different Angle - Written by @mizjoely Jim Moriarty is dead, Molly Hooper has a secret, and Sherlock Holmes is about to jump off the roof of St. Bart’s and fake his death. A Post Reichenbach horror AU.   (On Ao3, Multi-chapter, In Progress, Rated T)

Happy Death Day - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo “So, uh, now that your bedroom is officially a crime scene and all, where are you planning on crashing?” “Is that an invitation?”   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Happy Sherlolly Halloween Pumpkin - Created by @darnedchild I carved this pumpkin with a pattern based off of the “Coat Flip Hair Ruffle Kiss” shirt sold by Saniday on Redbubble.   (Repost from 2018′s Sherlolly Halloween, On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Haunted Mansion - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo ‘Yes, my dear heart; I will marry you. I will love you for all eternity. And tonight, at last, we will be together. I do!’ Sherlock as Edward Gracey and Molly as Elizabeth Henshaw   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

The Haunting of Pondicherry Lodge - Written by @mrsmcrieff It’s coming up to Halloween and Sherlock has a spooky case to investigate. He’s not helped by his friends who are seeing it as a holiday but will they get more than they bargained for?   (On Ao3, Multi-chapter, In Progress, Rated E)

The Heart of Betrothal - Written by @mychakk Not once had he shown any kind of interest in her since the beginning of their betrothal. And yet here he was.   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated M)

Let’s Watch This World Burn - Created by @terrmissamorriver My small art for 2020 Sherlolly Halloween. Spooky holidays, everyone!   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

The Manor - Written by @afteriwake Growing up, Molly knew of a building that only came out on Halloween, the building all the people in her village referred to as The Manor. When she was eight she saw it come into existence, and one of her friends was lost to it that same year. Since that day she has avoided it and tried her best not to think about it, until it came up in conversation with Sherlock. Sherlock is adamant that she was making it up so the two of them travel to her home village and watch as The Manor materializes there as it does every year. But this year is different. This year Molly and Sherlock enter the malevolent home, and it’s up to the two of them to keep the owner of The Manor from claiming any more victims.   (Originally written in 2013, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated T)

The Maiden Mirror - Written by @hobbitsdoitbetter He finds it after the fire, after the funeral, while they’re rebuilding 221B Baker Street. The mirror is heavy. Oak. Vines and leaves curl around its border. A carving that might be a face gazes out between the branches, eyes dark and wide. Watching. The wood is polished and smooth, the glass speckled with age. In the aftermath of a tragedy Sherlock Holmes finds a mysterious object in his home and develops an odd new fascination… Ghost story, Victorian AU. Set post Abominable Bride and post HIs Final Vow. Enjoy!   (On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated M)

Molly Hooper - (Assistant Reanimator) - Written by @darnedchild Sherlock Holmes learns the shocking secrets of Molly Hooper’s past. *Cue dramatic music and an evil laugh*   (Repost from 2017′s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated T)

The Munsters - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Sherlock and Molly as Herman and Lily Munster   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

The Pathologist’s Skeletons - Written by @englandsgray ‘He passed his hand over his mouth, closed his eyes. If he opened them, he would look straight into the eyes of the people who loved Molly Hooper long before him. What would they think, what would they say to him if their opportunity had not been snatched from them? Would he too have to look into the dead eyes in the waxen face, hair a mass of congealed blood..?’ Even Dr Hooper, it seems, cannot be protected by her own quiet brilliance from the stains of a murky history.   (On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated T)

Pleasant Surprises - Written by @ladysolitaire Molly encounters an entity that makes her appreciate her relationship with Sherlock. She uncapped her lipstick and turned to face the mirror. “Oh, my God!” she shrieked, dropping the lipstick to the stone floor. Her eyes wide, she ever so slowly turned round. “Bloody hell,” she muttered to herself as she stared at the doorway with her heart thundering in her chest. Happy Halloween!   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

Potions - Created by @mel-loves-all Theme: Potions   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Sherlock as Dracula - Created by @terrmissamorriver Halloween is coming, so I’ve made one more work. Sherlock as a Vampire? Why Not.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

Sherlolly/Beetlejuice AU - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo A Beetlejuice AU   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

Simplyshelbs16xoxo List of Spooky Fics - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Spooky Sherlolly stories by Simplyshelbs16xoxo   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Siren - Written by @darnedchild Woman or sea creature - did it really matter? Molly was as mysterious and beautiful as she was vicious; her very existence a scientific improbability. From the moment he saw her, his fate was set, Sherlock would never let a mystery remain unsolved.   (On Ao3, Multi-chapter, In Progress, Rated M)

Spellbound (Trailer) - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Trailer for my Fanfic Series, Spellbound.   (Repost from 2018’s Halloween at 221b, On Youtube, Complete, Rated T)

Undercover - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Sherlock and Molly go deep undercover to thwart an unhinged serial killer who’s next target may just be Molly herself.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

Uni!Sherlolly/Blair Witch AU - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Sherlock receives found footage and is asked to investigate the Blair Witch. He takes Molly along with him and what they find is beyond their imaginations.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated T)

The Woman in Hampstead Parish Burial Ground - Written by @mizjoely The first time he sees her he’s seven and visiting relatives in London with his parents and older brother. Mycroft at fourteen is all teenage aloofness and disdain, at first ignoring the tug on his hand by his over-eager sibling who begs him to let him explore the cemetery so like and yet so unlike the one at their old house.   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

The Undead Is the New Alive series - Written by @afteriwake

1) The Vampire & the Detective Molly Hooper was a vampire, a fact she kept hidden from the world at large. But Sherlock Holmes is a genius, so of course he’s going to figure it out. But his reaction is surprising, and from that Molly finds their relationship changing. When Moriarty puts it and her existence in jeopardy, however, decisions are made that have life-changing consequences for the two of them.   (Originally written in 2014, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated E)

2) Her Own Personal Hell Upon returning to work after the events on the hospital roof, Molly finds she has an unwelcome visitor in her morgue: the ghost of Jim Moriarty, and he’s bound and determined to make her pay for killing him.   (Originally written in 2014, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

3) But In All Chaos There Is Calculation Sherlock is still coming to terms with his new existence as a vampire and Molly is still wrestling with feelings of guilt that she had to turn him. When they return to her home after a walk they find that Mycroft is waiting for them, and he has a few bits of surprising news for the two of them.   (Originally written in 2014, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

4) Home Again Sherlock returns to 221B Baker Street and he, Molly and John find out more about Mrs. Hudson’s very interesting past.   (Originally written in 2014, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

5) Easily Solved This fic is not eligible for Halloween at 221b; but as it is part of the series, I decided to include a link for continuity’s sake.

6) How To Spend A Day Off Molly tries to sleep in on her day off but wakes up hungry, and since her body is on a feeding schedule it’s very important she get her blood before she’s in pain. While she and Sherlock feed they talk, and one thing leads to another, ending with them deciding to put their vampiric stamina to the test and spend the entire day shagging each other senseless.   (Originally written in 2015, On Ao3, Complete, Rated E)

7) Silence Pressing In The night is too quiet tonight. Molly needs…something…to soothe her tonight. But not sex. Something else.   (Originally written in 2017, On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

8) Revenge Is A Dish Best Served (Magically) Cold For some time now Sherlock has suspected Molly of sleepwalking. But when Lestrade calls him with a case that involves a vampire victim one evening when Molly appears to have been out, he starts to wonder if her sleepwalking may be having homicidal effects. But there is more to the whole story than it seems…   (Repost from 2017′s Sherlolly Halloween, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated T)

The Unexpected Legacies series - Written by @afteriwake

1) Questions Answered While Questions Remain Deciding to make the best of the situation he’s fond himself in (being immortal and impervious to harm), Sherlock incorporates his developing skill set into his consulting detective business. But even as he gets some of his questions answered by (the supposedly fictional) Merlin, it still leaves him questioning exactly how he’s supposed to do what the wizard wants him to do.   (Originally written in 2014, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

2) Attempting To Run An Experiment Among the many interesting new powers Sherlock has received as a wizard is the ability to see and communicate with ghosts. Being of a scientific mind he wants to run an experiment of seeing just what he can do with this newfound power, and Molly has volunteered to help. But it doesn’t work out exactly like he had planned.   (Originally written in 2014, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

3) Malevolent Intentions After Sherlock has been trained by Merlin more in the use of his powers he takes a case in Eynsford, trying to find out why a particular home there has the occupants feeling as though there’s an evil presence. Molly is accompanying him and before the case is solved Sherlock comes to a stark realization of just how important to him Molly is, and the lengths he will go to keep her safe.   (Originally written in 2014, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated G)

4) Infestation Molly calls Sherlock one evening shortly after the Eynsford case after hearing a buzzing sound and seeing a strange woman with bugs on her face at the foot of the bed. It turns out Molly’s house is infested with dark magic imbued insects who want nothing more than to kill anyone in the home. After Sherlock gets poisoned by one of them he and Merlin begin to work on taking care of the threat and getting Molly her home back…if they can.   (Originally written in 2015, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated G)

5) Thwarting A Potentiall Uprising When Merlin informs Sherlock and Molly that a very mischievous and dangerous fae has escaped with the intention of raising her own personal army comprised of the male police force in attendance at the Halloween party thrown by Scotland Yard, they take steps to make sure that doesn’t happen…with some unexpected help from some from friends and acquaintances.   (Originally written in 2015, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated G)

6) A Glimpse At What Could Be This fic is not eligible for Halloween at 221b; but as it is part of the series, I decided to include a link for continuity’s sake.

7) Monster Madness Halloween comes around and it starts every bit as irritating and uncomfortable as Sherlock and Molly have expected as every ghost in the vicinity makes their presence known, and only gets worse as disciples of the Dark One turn a twelve hour monster movie marathon into an attempt to wreak havoc in the city of London by making the movie monsters come to life.   (Originally written in 2015, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated G)

8) In The Shadows And In The Light Sherlock and Molly finally get to go out on their first date and nothing, come Hell or high water, is going to ruin it. Nothing. Or at least that’s what he thought, until he wakes up having a vision. Fortunately, he’s got a very understanding girlfriend.   (Originally written in 2015, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

9) A Complicated Evening One of Sherlock’s normal cases becomes one of the strange ones, and while it has a satisfactory end, it doesn’t have the best of endings for everyone.   (Originally written in 2015, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

10) Rare Gifts Mycroft is sent to Hampshire for a meeting that he has an ulterior motive for going to: there has been talk of strange goings ons in the nearby village of Farnham, Surrey, and a high ranking government official has disappeared. He tasks his brother to find out just what is going on, which leads to the discovery of a long lost colony of an ancient race who are normally peaceful but are being manipulated by an unscrupulous businessman with plans for taking what he believes to be rightfully his.   (Originally written in 2016, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated G)

11) History Repeats Until Stopped When Merlin tells Sherlock and Molly that another one of his descendants is living in a village under a curse and could be in danger, Sherlock and Molly go to the shore to try and break the curse and change history from here forward.   (Repost from 2017′s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Multi-chapter, Complete, Rated T)

12) Surprise Visitations Sherlock and Molly are settling in for the night when they get an unexpected and unwanted visitor in their bedroom.   (Originally written in 2018, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

13) Magical Lineages Molly, Sherlock, Phryne and Merlin enjoy a morning of magic and cozy family feels, and unbeknownst to them they’re being watched by two people wanting to keep their magical lineages safe.   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

The Universally Monstrous series - Written by @darnedchild

1) Universally Monstrous - The Hunchback of Notre Dame “The Quasimodo Killer?” Sherlock scoffed. “Really, John. That’s the best you could do?”   (Repost from 2018’s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

2) Universally Monstrous - The Phantom of the Opera It was a well-known secret that New Scotland Yard was haunted.   (Repost from 2018’s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

3) Universally Monstrous - Dracula It’s Molly’s voice. The woman he had buried just six days prior.   (Repost from 2018’s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

4) Universally Monstrous - Frankenstein They were four bodies in before someone noticed a pattern. It was Philip Anderson, of all people, who made the first connection.   (Repost from 2019’s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

5) Universally Monstrous - The Mummy “I must admit I’m surprised you managed to secure authorization for me to see the mummy.”   (Repost from 2019′s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

6) Universally Monstrous - The Invisible Man “This is the strangest thing I have ever seen,” John marvelled. “Haven’t seen,” Sherlock corrected.   (Repost from 2019′s Halloween at 221b, On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

7) Universally Monstrous - The Wolf Man Normally, she would hardly deign to give the tales of Holmes’ fantastical detective work a passing glance, but something about The Hound of the Baskervilles drew her interest.   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

8) Universally Monstrous - The Creature from the Black Lagoon “I think I’m looking at a fake, albeit a well-constructed one.” The Skipper huffed, but Sherlock ignored him. Surely the woman in the tank would need to surface soon, or risk betraying the presence of a breathing apparatus of some sort.   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

9) Universally Monstrous - The Bride of Frankenstein To his chagrin, it took Doctor Matthew Hooper more than a dozen interactions before he realized that the notorious Sherlock Holmes was not the man he pretended to be. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t a man at all.   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

[seriously-nobody]

The Ghost In My Heart

Pt.2

Warnings: romance, grief and grieving, depression

Preface: This one is a little less heavy than the last one, but it deals with the fallout. So, there's much dealing with grief and depression, but I tried to keep it light between the dark moments. I do recommend sticking around though because pt. 4 was particularly enjoyable to write ;^)

It’d been almost 8 months since Eleanor’s passing and you had spent most of your days tending to William in the mansion. Though your efforts to sooth him always seemed to be thwarted by his deep grief. At this point it was worsening more than anything, most days he’d stay in the master bedroom and lay in bed all day, and even some days he would refuse to eat anything the maids or servants would bring him.

“William? May I come in?” You say at the door with a tray of lunch. “Yes.” he muffles out. You open the door and bring the tray to him, there was barely any light in the room since he’d drawn the curtains. “I brought you some lunch, would you please eat?” William scrunches his face at the food but begrudgingly takes a bite. “There, see? That should make you feel a little better.” He sighs and a small smirk creeps across his face and it makes you beam in turn. "I am glad to have such a good friend by my side in these dark times.” he rasps out having not spoken in a while. “I’m happy to be here for you William.” you rub his shoulder. He glances down and the dark shadow of grief returns to his face. “I just wish I could see her again. Talk to her again. Some days I wake up thinking I'll find her by my side like always and it all would have just been a horrible nightmare." This sentiment sparked an idea in your head. What if you could reach Eleanor from beyond the grave. It was a dark thought and a dangerous one at that, but who are you if not enticed by a little danger. As soon as William was finished eating you told him you needed to run an errand that the servants couldn’t, and you’d be away for a while. You water the flowers you got for him every week and left him with his favorite book to read and went down to talk with the maids and servants. “I’ll be away from here for 6 days, can I trust you will take care of him, feed him, and bring him small joys while I’m away?” they nod, and you go fetch your horse and head to the city of New Orleans to look for some kind of answer.

You go club to club, pool room to pool room, and lounge to lounge, when finally you get yourself in the right circle and hear of a well renowned medium by the name of Madame Leota who can speak with and summon the dead through seances. She came at a high price but you would pay it 3 times over if it meant it would help William be himself again. So you start your journey back to Gracey Manor the following morning.

You arrive back just when you said you would and go up to talk to William. You knock on the door in a cheery melody. “William? I’m back, do you mind if I come in?” a shuffle is heard on the other side of the door and then it cracks open and William peaks through. “You were gone for so long. I thought you had left me.” he says monotonically but does not open the door for you. "I'm sorry I was away, truly it was for you.” you say looking at the floor. “Ah, so you lied to me. Not just some errand then?” William says scornfully. “Yes, but only because I was searching for something that I didn’t know was possible at the time. But now I know it's real and I want to help you… please, William, believe me.” you beg him. “What impossible thing are you speaking of?” He asks only slightly curiously. “You might be able to speak with Eleanor again.” “How.” he squints at you. “I learned about a medium, her name is Madame Leota, and she can summon the deceased through seances.” a moment passes in silence as William thinks things over. “I’ll pay for all of it. I can write her a letter today and she can be here by next month.” you say sweetening the deal. “Good.” he returns back to his sorrowful tone rather than anger at you for leaving him alone. “I am truly sorry that I left you here alone for so long, William. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?” you plead. “I’ve been missing the flowers you bring me.” he says. “Then I shall bring you a full bouquet.” you smile at him and leave to get the flowers from the garden and write the letter to Madame Leota.

The rest of the month goes by and before you know it Madame Leota is on the doorstep looking even more radiant than you had imagined. “Madame Leota, how wonderful it is to see you.” you say walking into the foyer to greet her with Gracey to your side. You helped clean him up as much as you could and you were glad it showed, he looks the best he has in weeks. She walks through the double doors and the doormen close it behind her. “I’m y/n l/n, and this is William Gracey.” you say and she looks over to William for a moment and he shifts his eyes to the floor. “I see. And I assume you have my payment?” she looks at you. “Ah, yes, of course.” you hand over an envelope and she looks in it to make sure it’s all there. She looks up to William, “Perfect, and have you prepared a seance room?” William looks over at you with pleading eyes and you nod to him to respond. “Y-yes, it’s just this way.” he says skittishly and walks up to a portrait on the landing of the stairs.

He puts his fingers in the eyes of the portrait and unlocks the mechanism that makes the portrait swing out like a door. “Interesting.” Madame Leota approves with a smirk and walks into the seance room as you follow suit. The room is already lit when you enter, by a circle of oil that runs around the edge of the room. In the center of the room lies a table and a few different chairs. “I’ll be needing my effects before we begin.” she says to you. “Oh, yes.” you say and motion for one of the servants to bring in her luggage. Out of a large red and gold bag she pulls out a crystal ball with a small metal stand for it and places it in the center of the table. Out of the same bag she pulls out 3 candles, a bundle of sage, a tarot deck, a pendulum, a leather-bound journal, an ink well, a feather pen, and a large book. “First I’ll cleanse the room and then we may begin.” she says, lighting the sage. After she smudges the room, she sets up her things and everyone takes their sets.

“Serpents and spiders, tail of a rat; call in the spirits, wherever they’re at.” Madame Leota says almost as if casting a spell. “Now, who are we making contact with?” She looks at William. “My late wife, Eleanor Gracey.” He says and hangs his head. “Ah, My condolences. May I ask how she passed?” she asks gently. “It was yellow fever.” He says welling up. And just as he says this the crystal ball in the center of the table begins to glow and levitate. “Someone is reaching out.” She says. “Eleanor?” William says with hope in his eyes. “Maybe, I’m not sure. Your grief caused them to reach out.” she replies. In the distance you hear the ringing of a ship’s bell, seagulls, and what sounds like waves crashing on rocks. “Is anyone else hearing that?” you say to the group. “No, what is it?” Madame Leota asks, intrigued. “I hear a ship’s bell and the ocean.” you say looking confusedly between Leota and William. “Extraordinary. The spirit has chosen you.” Madame Leota says. “Why would the spirit choose me? I’m only here to observe.” You ask. “Spirits don’t always want to talk through mediums, they choose who they like, and I can interpret their ways of reaching out. You said you hear sounds of the sea, did Eleanor like the ocean, sailing, or traveling by water?” she asks William. “Not particularly, but she did like they’re stories of travel.” William says. “Ah, so that’s why the spirit chose you.” Madame Leota says. “Maybe they can find Eleanor.” You propose. “Good thinking.” Madame Leota says dipping the feather pen in the inkwell and opening the leather-bound journal to a blank page. “What is your name, spirit? And do you know Eleanor Gracey? You may write your answer here.” Madame Leota says gesturing to the journal. Splashing watery footsteps walk around from your left side to where the journal is laid, then the feather pen rises up out of the inkwell and starts scratching on the paper. The first line reads as follows: “I Am Captain - -'' and 2 drops of water fall onto the paper smudging out the name. The second line reads: “I Do Not Know An Eleanor.” And the pen is placed back in the inkwell. Madame Leota hums thinking for a second. “Well, I suppose that is all you can do for us, thank you Captain.” Madame Leota sighs and the crystal ball floats back down to where it was and stops glowing. But the footprints don’t disappear, they just walk back over to your left side. “Madame Leota, I don’t think they’ve left.” You say staring down at the watery footprints on the floor. “Do you want them gone?” Madame Leota asks. You think for a minute. “I suppose not if they don’t want to leave.” You say to the left of you.

“That is all I have the energy for tonight. I assume you want to schedule another appointment?” Madame Leota asks. “We should keep trying until we find Eleanor.” William says, looking to you. “If you are that determined, then I can do one seance a night.” She says ambitiously. “Yes, I can provide you with a room and service. So that you may stay here instead of having to travel so far, every day.” William agrees. Everything feels very sudden with Madame Leota moving into the mansion and then the sound of the crashing waves gets louder in your ears. You screw your eyes shut and plead in your head for the sounds to quiet. “What’s wrong, dear?” Madame Leota asks. “N-nothing. Just the ghost having a bit of a jest I suppose.” You say nervously and the sounds quiet down. “I can try to send them away if they’re bothering you.” Madame Leota says. “No, no, it’s alright.” you say. “Alright then.” She says, concerned. “I’ll show you to your room.” William says standing up from the table. “That would be lovely.” Madame Leota replies. You stand, follow them out, and go to your guest bedroom you had been staying in for the past few months. As soon as you enter you shut the door and sigh, slumping down onto the edge of the bed. With your head in your hands, all your emotions crashing down on you like the waves of the ocean, with the events of the night weighing heavy on your mind. You feel the bed shift a bit and you whip your head around to find nothing but an indentation on the bed and then you feel a cold, watery hand gently lay on your shoulder. “Thank you.” you mutter out.

Pt.4: https://www.tumblr.com/seriously-nobody/728815545008488448/the-ghost-in-my-heart?source=share

[cloakedandsoaked]

From the Debts

Dantalion stepped down into the steaming waters, and leaned back against the smooth, stone edge of the pool. An ichthyocentaur with an intimidating-looking face handed him a hot towel without a word, and then swam away to a far corner to pull out its phone.

"Don't mind the horse, Gracey-Face. He's a real knot to untie." Crocell laughed at their own joke, if it could be called a joke (Dantalion certainly didn't get it), and then sobered with alarming speed. "Now what can the offices of Crocell and Crocell do for you on this fine day? Spill your problems to old Cellie."

Dantalion hesitated only a moment; after all, even in their territory, he was the one with the most power to throw around this interaction. He shouldn't let them disarm him so easily. Even if they're creepy as all fuck. Something about the way they spoke just didn't sit right with him. Maybe it was because he already had enough trouble understanding other demons without their kinds of word games. Maybe it was because it felt like he was always missing the point of some elaborate joke with Crocell, and therefore might be the butt of it.

He placed the folded towel on top of his head. "It's about that favor you owe me. I've come to collect."

"Oooooh!" Crocell swam toward him from their side of the pool, dodging only at the very last moment to sidle in next to him on the basin wall. "Yes, yes, I remember. How interesting! What tat for your tits, then, Great Benefactor mine?" Their eyes were wide, apparently fascinated, as if performing a favor were the most exciting thing that had happened to them all day. 

Given how Crocell liked to spend their days, this may well have been true, Dantalion thought.

"I want one of your spring wights. And, no, you don't get to ask why or what I plan to do with them."

It was a weighty demand. (Or wighty, Dantalion thought with an internal giggle.) There were precious few of them left in the world, and Crocell valued each one very highly. It came close to pushing the boundaries of the kind of favor he could expect from them. But, he wagered, it was better to state his demand with confidence than doubt.

At this, Crocell's fascination swapped out in a flash for consternation. "You ask much, Your Grace. Have you forgotten what deed it was that secured my debt? Is a few moments of your work worth weeks of mine, and centuries of affection besides?" They stared him down. "The wights are mine, and mine they will remain, from dust to dust."

Dantalion pursed his lips, but nodded. "I will relent if you but make for me a spring wight. They need not be one you already have."

This, they seemed willing to consider. Crocell looked away, and began drawing small ripples in the water with one hand just above the surface. "And you will tell me what your plan is."

"I will not."

"You will."

"I will not."

"You will, if you want a spring wight."

Dantalion sighed, and rubbed at his sweating face with the towel, which had, by now, lost most of its heat. "Alright. I will -- if you make for me a spring wight, and if you swear to keep the story a secret. But you won't be happy about it."

Crocell waved him off. "Render and lime and a song. Do you need them pretty, or may I fudge it?"

"Fudge it. I only need them for their power against nosy humans."

Crocell nodded, and swam back to their original place across the pool. "Ten days, then. And I expect my release in writing. But you must stay and enjoy your bath, sweetness -- No charge. You're far too tense, Gracey-Face." They smiled, and Dantalion was unsure whether it was meant to be playful or menacing.

He opened his mouth to reply, but decided to let it go. Instead, he leaned back, relaxed, and let his mind drift peacefully for the first time in several days. He was too tense; Asmodeus would be disappointed in him. All this work and not a bit of fun to be had. But soon, he would face Semjaza, and that. That would be worth the wait.