ghoulishundertakings

[ghoulishundertakings]

― "Manon Lescaut", Antoine François Prévost

#tbt #fucking Lou

[ghoulishundertakings]

you do not miss them btw. you miss the version of them you created in your head to which they never lived up to

#Brendan ghost wrote this @ Lucy’s friends

[ghoulishundertakings]

The Originals — Season 1  {Sentence Starters}

“You’re frightened… don’t be.“

“I forgot how much I liked this town.”

“What an entirely unwelcome surprise.“

“What makes you think I’m afraid to die?“

“No one hurts my family and lives. No one.“

“If you’re going to kill me, then get on with it.“

“Is there anyone who isn’t plotting your downfall?“

“You will not believe the crap day that I’m having.“

“Oh, don’t be fooled, love. I’m the devil in disguise.“

“You do not want to end up on the wrong side of me.“

“I will always protect you. You have my word on that.“

“There has to be another way. This is not how it ends.“

“Well, something killed them. And may still be out there.“

“You started it, but then you left. Actually, you ran from it.“

“They die. Mercy is for the weak. You taught me that, too.“

“If there’s a war going on, I want to be on the winning side.“

“The world is an awful place. Best to meet it on its own terms.“

“I’ll either stop them, or I’ll help them. Depending on my mood.“

“I’d have greater chance of draining the Mississippi with a straw.“

“I don’t mean you any harm. Though I think it’s time we had a talk.“

“One survivor to another, all I want to do is keep you alive. I swear.“

“What’s mine is yours, but it is mine. My home, my family, my rules.“

“Oh, I still think you’re a bitch… I’ve just grown to like that about you.“

“Forgive me. Thought you were in danger. It appears I was mistaken.“

“You don’t suppose they’ve found a way to kill him once and for all, do you?“

“I want a home. I want a family. I want someone to love me, and I want to live.“

“I weighed the good I see in you versus the horrible things I know you’ve done.“

“You know, I never much thought about dying. One of the perks of being immortal, I guess.“

“Here’s a lesson in friendship. Friends don’t lie to me. They don’t break the rules. And they do not steal what is mine!”

“Well, only this morning I had a mystical dagger embedded in my chest. So, I’d say I’m holding myself together quite well.“

[ghoulishundertakings]

𝕽𝖚𝖓...⛧

[ghoulishundertakings]

Holy Sepulchre Cemetery

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Dreaming of Another World, Tim Walker

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Sorrow

Source: †

#gore tw #horror tw #blood tw #;;i am i am i am [urban legend]

[ghoulishundertakings]

Sleepwalking by Katherine Boiarkina

#;;i am i am i am [urban legend]

[ghoulishundertakings]

Kelly you can’t base hells dynamic off Right.eous gemstones and o brother where art thou. I tell myself while doing it continuously

#;;swamp blogging [ooc] #entire book is just wow this girl really likes that movie huh

[ghoulishundertakings]

[ghoulishundertakings]

She stares at him, and while there are no eyes or really any visible turn of her head the knowledge is easily conveyed.

"Would that have made it better?" She askes, the dark shadows of her arms gesturing to her form, subtle, the shape of her continuing to make the movements obscure. "If it would I'll do it next time. Although, I think this will be the worst shock of it, right? Practice makes perfect and all."

"Is the perspective no Indian food? If so, I'm really opposed to that," she replies, half teasing. "Take a seat Sam." An office chair rolls to him, an offering to relax. "What's your order? They close soon. We can talk after we put it in, okay?"

The sun had set long ago. Sam walks into his office, the lights of the city seeping lazily through the silent black. He'd just returned from collecting someone— a middle-aged man, his home empty with a room where someone used to be, now filled with cardboard boxes and graduation photos, no ring on his finger. The drive back took an hour and thirty. 

His watch reads 10:45, and Sam turns the lights on in his office.

With it: a voice.

He half-startles. He tosses his head. There's a shadow in the corner that's not his, once obscured, now, with the lights on, obvious as a hole in the wall. He drops his hand from the switch, exasperated.

“Je-sus. Want to try knocking next time? Maybe ring first? Jesus!” he breathes, loud.

He'd recognized her, maybe, by voice, even if it came to him as though it echoed through a tunnel. Lucy has always been inexplicable. Lucy has never been a black smear sitting there like this is the most normal thing in the world, and Sam makes a sound halfway through the word what?

“I don't- What did you-” He stands, wordless, his face pulling at the offer of food. He flips his palms forward. “Can we get some perspective here?”

#samuhelll

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He shuts the door behind them, tamping down on a response. They’re at his place now and if they get into it, it’ll be him footing the bills so, for the sake of his pocketbook and his sure to come headache, he’s giving himself space not to take every piece of bait.

“I did.” There’s a feeling he can’t mark in that response. He can’t tell if it’s horror or not. He certainly hopes it is, that’s what anyone with sense would feel, but Lucy wasn’t known for having a lot of sense and from his experience with her friends he can’t say any of them do either.

“Yeah, that’s what happens when something is trying to go against pretty much every rule in the book — it’s hard,” he scoffs, bitter as black coffee. “Look, as soon as I know what this is I’ll be able to answer that better. However, I’m a strong believer that past actions can indicate how current ones will go, so you’ll forgive me— or don’t, I don’t care — if I’m skeptical. What exactly is your goal in coming here?”

@ghoulishundertakings from here

"It's good to see you too, Brendan," he responds with a grin, wiping his Louboutin oxfords on the mat before stepping inside. "I'd be flattered to think you chose Boston because of me, but I know better."

John has been avoiding ghosts at all costs for a very long time. On one hand he doesn't want to give himself away, on another he doesn't want to go through the emotions of recognizing some long-lost friend perpetually trying to drink a beer at the Green Dragon. He'd much rather pretend to be normal.

"I did." His voice is little more than a whisper. "She found me, actually. Seemed to be difficult for her, but she did." John's not interested in another fight and he does a very good job at not rolling his eyes at Brendan's dickish comment. "You don't think I'm going to be civil about this?"

#ofcongress

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Brendan should be used to mysterious knocks at his door in the middle of the night by now. "May I come in? I think we should sit down and have a chat."

He thinks he should've moved farther away from all this shit. He thought not-Lucy would keep all of it back down south, that less of it would bleed out into the rest of the world now that someone else was there to fill the hole Lucida left.

But, here he is, face to face with someone else he really is not interested in seeing. There is only one explanation for it though and he is not in the frame of mind for another fight.

"You saw her too, huh?" He moves away from the door, and waves the other man in. "I'm very certain that's not a good idea, though." He remembers how the last round went.

#ofcongress

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She nods, testing another step past the door and closer to really being inside the home. "Yeah, not in Louisiana..." she paused, chewing over if that was really the right way to describe it. Maybe it is because their meetings were shorter, more sporadic despite how close they grew. Over time, over the country, no one spot had a solid hold for her. It is just him and his memory, and the version of her he knew. Which, if she looks in the mirror, may be younger than she expects. She feels very wide eyed, if not naive.

"Yes, it's hard to get out to places where I don't have a lot of people who remember."

There's a sharpness in her laugh that comes unbidden. "I'm not alive," she holds her hand up as if to prove her point. What she is she can't say these days either, but alive certainly doesn't fit the bill.

"Well, the same way anyone dead hears you. I think it's a little like a prayer for angels or gods. It filters through and finds the right spot more or less." Lucy can nearly see the thoughts flit behind his eyes as he tries to filter through everything he's has said to her. It's the same face Mal had when they met at her not-grave.

"It's good to see you too, by the way. I don't think I said that yet, right?"

Sometimes he thinks it's funny that his encounters with the supernatural have been few and far between. Living in Boston, an old and arguably haunted-ish town, he figures he should have seen more apparitions. In fact, he would like to see more apparitions. Perhaps he could catch up with a few friends...

"It's alright." John's far too polite to ever admit if it's not. "Out of town?" he asks, the first of probably a thousand questions, but he's behaving and doing his best to focus on the parts of her that aren't currently falling apart. He's frozen to the spot, fists clenching and then unclenching as a means of dealing with his unease. If she wasn't partially bone and sinew, he would have been more apt to give her a hug. "It's good to see you alive, Lucida. I suppose that's all that matters."

"You heard me? How did you hear me?" Sure sometimes he did have a bit of a big mouth, but... Hopefully he hadn't been doing or saying anything embarrassing as she was tracking him down. Oh Lord...

#ofcongress

[ghoulishundertakings]

cemeteries aren’t creepy they’re actually devoted to memory and rest and love and humanity

[ghoulishundertakings]

Pray for me I gotta go by my friends place and deal with FQF traffic

#;;swamp blogging [ooc]