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#Ghost Writing
ghost-of-luna · 1 year
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I think it's fucking hot when a dom tells a sub to push their limits themselves. To test themselves, if you will. To kneel by the door while they drive home -- even if that's over an hour commute. To hold something in their mouth -- a gag or your spit or cum -- and not release it or swallow until they say so. Endurance commands.
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daxieoclock · 10 months
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Howdy folks. I’m Daxievane, you might know me from my Persona 5 NG+ longfic Deja Vu, my so-far twoshot Black Mask Duo AU, my canceled Kingdom Hearts Dissidia, or my dozen or so WKTD fics. I’m an unemployed trans lesbian with a shit ton of writing experience and many disabilities.
It's summertime and while I'm currently focusing on preparing for summer classes to graduate on time, I'm also trying to budget out my slim savings to get out of my toxic parents' house and stay with my boyfriend for at least a month during my break. But since I'm unemployed, I'm about 200$ short of my goal. If anyone could help by buying me a coffee, I would be very grateful.
I also do prose or fic requests, ghost writing, fiction editing, genre tutoring, and photography+poetry. Check my ko fi above for examples of my art.
Prose, fanfic or ghost writing: 1$ per 100 words (5$ per double-spaced page).
Fiction editing: 1$ per page you'd like my in-depth feedback on.
Genre tutoring: 15$ for a (roughly) hour long lecture on a genre, trope or writing technique of your choice.
Photography + poetry: 15$ for a single image and poem pair with a subject, tone or prompt of your choice.
Sensitivity reading (transfem, nonbinary, lesbian, autism, bpd, ptsd, Jewish): 10$ minimum for <15 pages, 1$ extra for every page over 15.
I am happy to write or edit ns fw content, but I reserve the right to carte blanche rejection for predatory ships, or fandoms that make me uncomfortable. I will not accept any ns fw requests for underage characters, "aged up" or otherwise. I will also not accept any requests for RPF.
My strongest subjects are horror, character drama, action and world/lore building. I will gladly also tutor for romance.
DM me if any of the above sounds interesting, and we can discuss!
Don't tag with donashun etc thank you <3
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phantoms-lair · 11 days
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Fredogawa - Enter the PizzaPlex
@pixlokita you wanted more of this AU so Happy Birthday
((From my DCxFNAF:SB))
((Also I never posted part 2, so, uh...here?))
"So we are stuck here?" Freddy asked.
"For now." Conan looked annoyed. They were supposed to catch their connecting flight to Hawaii here, but a storm over the ocean was making it impossible. The clear blue skies around them just made the reason seem so incongruous. "Thankfully we're already in the states so we won't have our visas checked or anything. Especially since you look mostly Caucasian and we both speak perfect English."
"Your accent might need a bit more practice," Freddy said gently. "I have the advantage of switching my language module. Well, there is nothing we can do about the weather." Freddy shrugged gamely. "Why don't we 'do the tourist thing' until a flight is available to meet with your Great Aunt and Uncle."
That's one thing Conan appreciated about him. As an entertainment bot, he knew how to commit to a bit. They were impossible far away from anyone who might know them, but he kept their identities, as well as his parents identities relevant to theirs, up.
"Sure Dad. What's around here?" he asked, also staying in character.
"Let's see." Freddy pulled out his phone and did a quick search. "Oh." His entire demeanor fell.
"What's wrong?" Conan asked concerned. He'd seen few things get under his 'dad's' skin like this.
"The biggest tourist spot in this area is...a Freddy Fazbear's PizzaPlex."
Yeah, that would do it. "We don't have to go, I'm sure there are other things we could do."
"No, I - I want to see. what it could have been like? How many people get the chance to see what might have happened if their lives had gone according to plan. And this one is even bigger than the one in Japan. Here I - The other Freddy has a whole band. It is strange and frightening, but I want to see."
Conan wasn't sure if he could say the same. If he could see a different Kudo Shinichi who'd never been shrunk, never had to lie to Ran...all in all he'd just rather not. But this was Freddy's choice, not his. "Sure Dad, sounds like fun." He gave Freddy his "I'm a little kid smile, which Freddy returned with a genuine one.
The Pizzaplex wasn't far from the air pad, and when they got there both stared at the building for a moment. 'Bigger' was an understatement. The Pizzaplex in Beika was the size of a good sized restaurant. This was the size of a mall.
"Fazbear Entertainment must be doing well in America." Conan commented.
Freddy nodded. "Shall we?"
Conan held his hand, slipping his face into that of a little kid excited for an afternoon with his father. They walked through the giant glass doors and that where everything went wrong.
They had barely stepped foot into the Pizzaplex when Conan froze in place. Freddy did a quick scan of his son and noticed in addition to his paling skin his heartrate had skyrocketed and his breathing had quickened to a worrying degree.
He knelt down next to his son. "Conan, are you okay?"
He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't for Conan to grab onto him like a koala, gripping his clothes in fear while small sniffles escaped from him. None of this was standard Conan behavior.
"Is your son alright?" a concerned lady in a Fazbear uniform asked.
"I think he's overwhelmed." he responded, wondering why the woman suddenly looked surprised." He stood, holding Conan to him. "I'll take him to the parking lot and see if that helps."
Thankfully as soon as he exited the doors Conan's death grip on him relaxed, thought it wasn't gone completely. His breathing evened out and his pulse rate dropped to normal.
"Hey there, superstar. You okay?" Freddy asked, rubbing Conan's back soothingly.
"No." Conan croaked. He took several deep breaths before he continued. "I...I've trained my detective instincts a lot."
"You have," Freddy agreed.
"And I've gotten them to the point where if someone's feeling a large amount of bloodlust or malice I can tell. Not who, and it wouldn't be permissible evidence in court even if I did know who, but...I don't feel it everytime but when I do it's never wrong."
That didn't sound like something that should be physically possible to Freddy, but now wasn't the time for that. "Is that what happened when you entered the building?"
But Conan shook his head. "No, it was.." Haibara used smell as her example, and Freddy was made to be a musician. "Think of it like a sound. Usually when I pick up on malice it's like a sudden note out of silence, a stinger on a violin. It's shocking and I have to pay attention to it. Walking into the Pizzaplex..." Conan gulped. "It was like stepping out of a sensory deprivation chamber into a cacophony. Loud horns, screeching violins, hands slamming on a keyboard. A thousand overwhelming notes of malice, death, violence. And they just kept playing. I've never felt anything even remotely resembling that."
"Do you think something bad is going to happen?" Freddy asked gravely.
"I think," Conan gulped, trying to make sense of the whirling feelings going on inside him. "I think something bads been happening for a while."
"Can we tell to the police?"
"No. We have no evidence other than me having a panic attack, which they'll be even less likely to listen to due to my age. And if they look into either of us they might realize we entered the country illegally."
Freddy thought a moment. Then he sighed. He wanted nothing more than to lick up his son, turn his back, and leave this place forever. But the thought of leaving victims, most likely children, made his servos twist. And he knew his son. Knew if he tried to leave Conan would just turn around and sneak back in to handle it himself. And the thought of Conan going there alone if this was anything like was happened at his Pizzaplex..."We are leaving."
Conan opened his mouth to argue.
"For now." Freddy appended. "We will get food and rest and give you time to recover. We will return shortly before the last big show. If we cannot find anything to give to the police, we will hide until closing in one of the recharge chambers. Though I have been altered to no longer require them, I should still register as a Fazbear Entertainment Animatronic and you would not be harmed in my stomach hatch. We can investigate after it is clear. The Pizzaplex is hugely busy. If something bad is ongoing, it will not be happening during opening hours."
"Thank you," Conan whispered.
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inyoureyes69 · 4 months
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McDaniel Fertilizer | ©inyoureyes69 | Linktree
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nothngbroken · 26 days
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everytime i see someone who gets iffy abt the trans mizu hc i click on their account and its always some 'omg mizu my wife😍😍😍' mf who sexualizes them to hell and back and refuses to acknowledge any trans identity for them outside of transmasc and its like. oh. ok!
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justcallmeanobsessor · 8 months
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-Unseen Stalker-
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-Trigger Warnings: Non-Con, Sexual Content, Stalker, Yandere, Hinting at Death
-Pairing: Supernatrual Yandere x gn Reader
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INTRO:
I am warped in warmth while I sleep in the arms of a faceless creature. Their hands caress my hips as they lay behind me, our legs tangled in a way where you can't tell where one of us starts and the other begins. They mold us together so tightly to ensure I can never leave their side, so I can never escape from them.
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I had recently moved to a small town with little to no plan and with almost nothing but the house that was now in my name. So here I stood looking up at the tall wooden structure with a less than friendly appearance, trying to convince myself to step inside. As I continuously sike myself out of stepping into my new humble abode of a murder house, It starts to rain ‘how classic’ I say out loud, less than amused. And as if the world was offended by my sarcastic remark, the drizzle of rain turned into a full blown storm in the matter of seconds.
With my clothes now soaked, I ran into the death trap that I now call home, to find the few boxes of items I brought along, all piled in the foyer. The house was bigger than imagined with a grand stairway right in front of the main door and one larger door on each wall to the sides of me. The left leads to the kitchen and the right looks to be a living room with a clam glow of an orange light coming from it. The house looks decrepit with cobwebs everywhere and you can see the wall paper peeling off.
As I take one more look around I hear a creak of the floorboards coming from the living room, I freeze in place, flight or fight instincts kicking in. It felt like I stood there frozen in place for hours but was probably only a few seconds. The only thing shaking me out from my frozen state was my need to take a breath of air that I didn't even notice I was holding. Every ounce of my body told me to run and get the hell out of there but the sound of thunder behind me served as a warning to not leave and the feeling of something pulling me towards the growing warmth of the living room did nothing to help my need to escape from this fright fest of a house. ‘It was probably just the house settling.’ I brushed off but In my rationalization I failed to realize when my feet started to move on their own, leading me towards the doorway of the living room. 
I seemed to gain control again when I was sitting on the dust covered couch in front of a fireplace that seemed to have lit itself. I was both in awe and completely petrified at how this could be possible. Did someone light it before my arrival? But then why didn't I see a light from outside?
Yet as more time passed the fire seemed to wash away my worries and the exhaustion of the long day of travel seemed to overtake me as I laid my head on the plush coach. In my half sleeping state the sight of a figure in front of me went unnoticed with my drowsy mind.
The next morning I awoke to a blanket covering me and the once burning fire had been put out. While trying to come up with an explanation for this, I had yet to realize that this was just the beginning of these strange encounters. 
Overtime Things would be done without me doing them, like dishes and laundry, even coming down to a meal that was already prepared. I would also have little notes pop up, that were more than strange, most were compliments written in elegant cursive, then others looked frantic begging me to stay and how much they longed for me. I came to the conclusion that It was a stalker, especially when I had begun to lose items of mine, be it a toothbrush or a piece of clothing. To say I was creeped out was an understatement. 
This went on for at least a month when I finally decided to call the cops who I found completely unhelpful. When they couldn't find anything they just brushed it off, cocking it up to teens making a prank and animals that found a way in the house, oh how wrong they were. 
I have to say, now I entirely regret ever calling them, for the events that took place after was a nightmare brought to life.
The days after, I was bombarded with dozens of letters from the unknown stalker. The handwriting was crazed and forceful, like they were putting all their strength into writing each letter. All of them all had the message of a singular word that caused chills to run down my spine. MINE. To say I was scared shitless is an understatement. 
After a while the notes turned into nightmares filled with the same voice repeating that word over and over again. MINE MINE MINE. Getting louder with every repetition. After a week of this I didn't try to stay in that house for any longer. I was afraid that if I did I would start to believe the unknown creatures' words, that maybe in some way I was thei- NO. I shook my head rapidly trying to clear it of these thoughts as I ran to my car as fast as possible, speeding out of the driveway and down the road but not without getting a glimpse of a tall figure standing in the window. I didn't stay any longer to investigate who or what that was because frankly I value my life and just staying in that house for as long as I did was an utterly stupid decision.
As I continued to freak the hell out and put together what was happening, I failed to notice the headlights that were coming right for me and with a screech of tires and the view of my car heading straight towards a tree, I fell unconscious as the same word echoed in the back of my mind. MINE MINE MINE. 
WIth the cushion of my bed beneath me and the warmth that engulfed me, for a second I thought everything that had happened was just a bad dream that my mind made up from watching to many horror movies but through the sounds of my own breaths my hopeful thoughts were rudely interrupted by the growl of the very same words that caused my whole body to convulse and my brain to be put into panic mode, MINE. A baritone voice echoed into my ear with a breath of air fanning across my face as it spoke that one frightening word solidifying where I stand in this predicament, I have no choices, what I am and what I have belongs to them and only them. 
This only becomes more real when I feel their rough hands move from around my middle to my hips, caressing me as if to calm my rapidly beating heart. YOU'RE MINE. They keep saying over and over again, like an echo in my mind. Their demonically enchanting voice does nothing to help my panic that seems to increase. I try to wiggle out of their grasp but to no avail. Instead they pull me back into them even harder, making my back flush against them, allowing me to feel their growing erection that rests between my thighs. I struggle even more, disgusted, unwanting of what I might be in for if I stay in the arms of this unknown being. 
The next sound that comes from this makes me stop my struggles instantly. An unearthly groan of pure pleasure rips through the silence of the room as he pulls my hips closer to him, grinding his length into the crevice of my ass. I try to scream but my throat closes in on itself keeping any sounds from escaping. His hands slip down my hips into the waistband of my pants pulling it along with my underwear down to my mid thigh, leaving just enough room to gain access to my hole. My mind races, panicking on what is about to happen. As my eyes are blocked with my unshed tears, all my thoughts are pushed away by a fog coming over my mind when I feel his bare length rub against my thigh.
I gasp and look over my shoulder to see who my perpetrator is, but all I see is the empty bed beside me and yet I can still feel them there, I can still feel their hands caressing me, I can still feel their breath against me, and I can still feel the head of their dick sliding it’s way into my hole. I tried so hard to scream for help and now I'm trying even harder to not let out a single moan, I can not give them the satisfaction they want.
I'm stuck in place as I hear them groan loudly when they finally sheath themself fully inside of me. After a few seconds they begin to move into me, holding on to my hips to pull me back with every thrust making their cock sink deeper into me than I have ever thought possible. As they speed up their thrusts they angle themselves in a way that hits a spot that makes my efforts of holding back my voice go in vain as I let out a loud moan that echoes against the walls of the bedroom. 
They chuckle breathlessly into my ear, amused at my fruitless struggles. After one moan it was impossible to stop the onslaught of sounds that came after almost putting porn stars to shame. I had gone from cursing this beast to begging them for more within seconds and this being did not hold back on giving me what I asked. Their thrusts had sped up to ungodly speeds and the force of them caused the bedframe to shake. I felt the coil of pleasure form in the pit of my stomach, that tightened with every calculated thrust they made. Soon they had me screaming beside them in a pile of sweat and tears trying to calm from the high they had brought me to. 
they did not stop their onslaught of thrusts, even with my body that had become sensitive to the touch. 
I begged them to stop when the pleasure soon turned into pain. All that they responded with was a grunt in acknowledgment yet still did not relent till they finally came with a few more thrusts letting out their warm fluid inside of me with a loud groan of pleasure. My face was covered in tears and snot. My body, spasming from the overstimulation. I hiccuped as their hands rubbed over my hips in a comforting manner. They refused to pull out of me, so they stayed there unmoving from their place within me. Pumping into me every so often. Even when I tried to move my hips away from them, they would pull me right back on to their cock. STAY. They grumbled, more as an order than a question. I stayed in that spot, sobs still raking through my body, knowing that against this unknown creature I have no chances of escape.
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ghcstcd · 6 months
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This is a headcanon that I often think about when it comes to Omega:
Did he come before Terzo, or was he the first Ghoul Terzo summoned on his own? Both I feel lend wonderful ways to explore their relationship and devotion and such, and I can never decide which I like more. How do *you* imagine they first met?
I'm a huge fan of the idea of Omega being a part of the Dark Ministry since it's early days.
I should note that I personally like to headcanon that this fictional church of Satan/The Clergy started in the 1300's, Italy. Omega was found, preying on humans, and was given an offer to work for the Clergy.
Hundreds of years later, Omega rides a series of trains from Sweden, to Italy, to pick up two young boys who have just met for the first time. Omega is told they are the second, and third sons of Nihil. They're understandably perplexed by the masked man who knows them, but they've never known him.
But the boys were curious, maybe even brave. With the last dredge of doubt thrown aside, Omega took each of the boys' hands in his, and lead them towards their train car.
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drunkonaheistinspace · 4 months
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three almost kisses and the one time nothing could interrupt
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originally published: December 3rd, 2023
Pairing: Illinois x gn!Reader
Rating: General Audience
Tags: fluff, friendship, first kiss, slight angst
1
When Illinois proudly announced that the two of you would be attending an auction again, flashbacks from last time hit you like a tsunami. Luckily for you, you were informed of his plans two weeks in advance and not hours in advance like last time, giving you plenty of time to prepare.
The first thing you did was insist that you wear your outfit from last time and he didn't have to buy you a new one. You accidentally found out how much he paid for it, which nearly gave you a heart attack. The only reason you still had it was Illinois's argument that it was a birthday present and you didn't want to be rude. And yes, you even kept the overpriced ring that could possibly be an ancient relic. The second was to find out more information about the auction. This time it was about a deceased collector whose collection is being liquidated so that the family can pay off the mountain of debt that the deceased had left them. It looks like you might even find it this time as the deceased specialized in ancient artifacts and judging by the thumbnails were the kind of artifacts you're after.
The sight of Illinois in a suit was something you could never get used to. It was just wrong. But it gave you the opportunity to tie his bow tie, which in turn gave you an excuse to get close to him. "Let's go over the rules again," you said as you straightened the bow tie. "Why are we going to the auction?" Illinois sighed. "To find potential pieces for my collection." "What don't we do?" "Do not purchase artifacts of unknown and/or questionable origin." "And?" "And don't give my partner any gifts that cost me more than fifty dollars." The fifty dollars was still a compromise. You wanted to go lower than ten bucks, after all he was still your boss and after all he was obligated to pay you and he paid you well above average, which is why you didn't see the point of expensive gifts. But he insisted that there should be at least fifty. He referred to this as a bonus for excellent work performance.
A look out of the window told you that the limousine had already arrived and was now waiting for you. You went to grab your coat, but Illinois grabbed your arm. You looked at him in surprise. “After the auction...would you like to go out for dinner afterward? It doesn't have to be expensive! We can also just make a detour to McDonald's and get something there.” A gentle smile graced your face. Illinois was always so cute when he was shy. This was a side of him that only you got to see. "I'd love to have dinner with you." You stood in absolute silence for a moment, looking at each other before Illinois slowly walked towards you and leaned towards you. You closed your eyes in anticipation but your lips didn't touch. Instead, you were startled by loud impatient horns. "The limo is waiting," you said, heart racing, and grabbed your coat. "Yeah, we should go now," he agreed, running his fingers through his hair.
In the end, the auction was canceled because two idiots broke in and took a large part of the collection. Instead, you spent the night in the parking lot behind a McDonald's watching the stars while sharing a helping of chicken nuggets.
2
You had asked Illinois for a single day at the beach several times in the past. Just to relax. Well, your wish has finally been granted after a long time, but unfortunately not in the way you would like. Yes, you just found yourself on a beach at sunset, but instead of sipping colorful cocktails and enjoying the view, you were stuck on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere with a treasure map that made no sense.
"I give up! The map is useless!" you called to your boss who had climbed up one of the palm trees hoping to get a better view of the island. You, on the other hand, had the map in your hand and tried to make sense of the scribble. "I'm afraid I have to agree with you there," Illinois admitted while clambering down the palm tree. "I'm not even sure if we're on the right island anymore." You sit down on the sand and bury your face in your hands. The adventurer sat next to you and fanned the cool air with his hat. "At least we can enjoy the sunset." With a sigh, you looked up and you had to admit that the sunset here was particularly beautiful. At least there was a nice moment you could share with Illinois. "We should take a vacation and just go somewhere that isn't dangerous," you murmur as you rest your head on his shoulder. Illinois said nothing and just silently took your hand and gently squeezed it.
You just sat there and watched the sunset without saying a word. You couldn't remember who turned around first, but suddenly you were looking at each other and your faces got closer and closer. Your lips were only a few millimeters from touching. You were just a head movement away from what you both longed for. At the same time, a cannonball hit the water just meters in front of you, drenching you both in seawater. You looked up in surprise and saw a ship on the horizon.
"Please tell me that's not who I think it is," you moaned in annoyance and frustration. "Captain Magnum," Illinois confirmed. "Maybe we should flee inland before he actually hits us." As if on cue, you saw another cannonball being fired and you ran into the dense jungle hoping to escape the pirate.
3
You ran through the dark maze-like corridors. You've been running for quite a while and you're not exactly sure where you are right now. Everything looks the same and the fear that you've been going in circles the whole time overcomes you. The worst thing about the whole thing, however, was the fact that you didn't even know who you were running from or where exactly you were going. The day started out so harmless.
It was a beautiful summer day and you and Illinois were “on vacation” so to speak. Maybe vacation wasn't the right word. It was much more of a break between adventures because your plane broke down and your flight was delayed by two days. You were in no hurry and instead chose to take this as a sign that you really needed some time off. This included sitting in cute little cafes, drinking coffee and talking about possible new goals. Buy new work boots. Arguing with Illi about why you don't need a 200 euro jacket. In the end you decided to visit an art exhibition.
The exhibition included several different pieces by well-known local artists. You didn't know any of them, but that didn't stop you from marveling at the countless works. Illinois seemed to feel the same way because he would stand in front of a work for a long time complementing both the composition and the technique and all you could do was listen in silence and marvel at how much this man knew about art.
Then it happened. Illinois was laughing. Everything was good. Everything was wonderful. Then he noticed something in the distance. His laughter stopped. His smile vanished. He looked like he had seen a demon. Then everything happened quickly. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the exit, but something forced him to change direction and you ran deeper into the gallery. You couldn't see who or what was doing this to Illinois, but you were sure of one thing. You've never seen him so scared. Eventually he drags you through a door with a staircase leading down. Once you got to the bottom you saw two hallways and Illinois turned to you with a worried look.
"Listen to me. We have to split up! He's most likely after me and I doubt he'll hurt you as long as you stay away from me!" "But-" you tried to protest, but he placed a finger on your lips, silencing you. "No buts! For once, I want you to listen to me and do what I tell you. This is solely for your good.” He removed his finger and instead took your face in his hands. “We will find each other again. I promise it." You wanted to protest again, but the look in his eyes tells you that he won't accept any complaints. You took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. I trust you." He gave you one final affirmative smile before you walked in different directions.
And so you found yourself in the endless dark labyrinth that sucked every hope out of you with every passing second. Your legs hurt from running and you were exhausted, but you couldn't afford a break. Not unless you knew where the adventurer was. Every step you took felt like you were pulling a heavy load behind you, and a tightness that settled in your chest heralded the onset of a panic attack. It was difficult for you to see in the dimly lit hallways and you felt like it was getting darker with every step. How much time has passed since you broke up?
You turned a corner and instead of finding another endless corridor ahead of you, you ran into what you initially thought was a wall. Only the wall was warm, muscular and difficult to breathe. Two strong hands rested on your shoulders, providing the necessary support that kept you from collapsing like a cheap folding chair on a hot summer afternoon. "Thank God! You're fine!" did you hear the living Adonis statue say You were too exhausted to say anything. Instead, the hands moved away from your shoulders and you were pulled into a tight hug. "I know I have some explaining to do, and I'll do it once we get out of here," Illinois still held you tight, afraid someone would pull you away from him. “I promise you that we will then be a month – no, two months! oh you know what Let's take the rest of the year off and just relax!" The support that the adventurer gave you finally let you relax and catch your breath. Over time, your mind became clearer and the hallway you are in became brighter. You take a deep breath. The familiar smell of leather and linen gave you another piece of security. Your limbs were heavy as lead, but you somehow managed to raise your arm and squeeze Illinois' biceps, after which he released you.
You didn't realize your vision was blurry until you tried to look the adventurer in the face. You feel his warm hands on your cheeks and a light pressure on your forehead. You blink a few times and as your vision cleared you noticed his forehead was pressed against yours. His eyes were closed, his sun-tanned skin was glistening with sweat, and you could smell the faint whiff of coffee on his breath. "I promise nothing will happen to you," he whispered more to himself than to you. “You survived until now. You survived longer than anyone else." He opened his eyes. "You mean too much to me to let him take you away." You stared into each other's eyes for a long time. The corridor was long forgotten. All your senses were taken over by him. The warmth radiating from him. The smell of him clouding your mind like a potent drug. His breath on your face. His eyes that looked straight into your soul. It was like a spell that you couldn't break.
Slowly he closed his eyes again and tilted his head. His lips were only a few millimeters from yours. You inhale his breath and close your eyes. This was the moment. But before you could lean forward and fully surrender to the spell, a door next to you was violently thrown open. You both jumped aside in shock and panic. Was the door here all along? "There you are!" exclaimed Wilford. You both looked at him in horror, but neither of you was able to say or do anything. “You two are extremely late for your interview! Well, come on in!" Wilford grabbed you both by the wrist and yanked you through the door.
You didn't talk about what happened in the corridor. Neither of you could.
+1
It's mid-August. The sky was painted yellow and pink from the setting sun. Illinois kept his promise. Since the Gallery incident, you've stayed away from adventures and settled in a small town. He gave you you room to breath by giving you a small house on the outskirts of town. Under normal circumstances you would insist on getting an apartment, but since the incident you just needed some alone time. Time to think. Time to understand your own feelings. His house wasn't far. A few minutes walk. He gave you a key. You were welcome at any time. And yet you haven't seen each other in two months.
Those two months were the first time you could really think. Overthink. Losing yourself in your own mind. You realized three things: 1. The carpet in your living room was exceptionally soft and perfect for staring at the ceiling for hours. 2. You miss the smell of leather and canvas. 3. Illinois' entire existence was like a siren song and you struggled every day to resist it.
You only now realized that you had been under his spell since the first time you met and every time you tried to leave, you somehow found a way back to him. You had lost your heart and it was now part of his collection. The only thing that stopped him from possessing both your body and your soul was a single kiss.
One kiss and there will be no turning back.
A kiss to seal the deal.
A kiss to become his holy grail.
Every time you opened your front door and looked out, you could see his house. So far and yet so close. There was nothing standing in your way except your own pride and sanity. But today you were weak.
You didn't bother putting on shoes. You looked up at the sky and noticed that the colorful play of colors from before was replaced by dark rain clouds. You felt the first drops on your face and closed your eyes. It didn't take long for the light drizzle to turn into a storm. The rain soaked your clothes and your hair was wet and stuck to your face. This was the perfect weather.
Your legs moved of their own accord, carrying you down the street until you stood in front of his house. Lightning and thunder joined the rain and the wind became more ruthless. But you didn't care. Three steps and you were standing at his door. You take three deep breaths. You knock on the door three times.
You heard the footsteps behind the door. Your heart was racing and you felt the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You heard the door unlock and you held your breath. The door swung open and you took the first step. Illinois didn't have time to react as your arms wrapped around his neck and cold lips pressed against his. He stumbled backwards until his back was pressed against a wall. Only when he realized it was you kissing him did he allow himself to close his eyes and return the kiss. Only when he wrapped his arms around you and felt how wet your clothes were did he force himself to break the kiss. He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you away. You were surprised at his sudden abruptness, but the sight that greeted you made every bit of anger in you fade away. His otherwise perfect hair hung over his face, his cheeks red, his lips swollen and his eyes dark. You wanted to lunge at him once more and steal another kiss, but his grip was iron, keeping you at arm's length.
“What happened?” he asked, struggling to keep you at a safe distance. “Why are you wet?” “I couldn’t take it anymore,” you replied while breathing heavily. "I need to see you, feel you, you..." “And that’s why you walked through the rain?” He looked you up and down again. “And that barefoot?!” You rolled your eyes. “How dare I walk barefoot in the rain! This is worse than the time I had to jump off a cliff into the sea! Or the time I had to fight a mutant killer bunny!” Now it was Illinois who rolled his eyes.
You felt his grip on your shoulders loosen and you took the opportunity to approach him again. He didn't do anything to stop you and so you wrapped your arms around him again and hid your face in his neck. Strong arms wrapped around your wet form, pushing you closer to him. “I want to be more than your partner,” you whisper into his skin. In response, he kissed you on the temple. “Were you thinking about a spring wedding or would you prefer fall?” You gave him a light kick to the leg. “Not so fast, my dear! We haven’t seen each other for two months and we have to make up for that time first.” “Whatever you want, treasure!”
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martyn goes to hermitcraft season 9 but it would have been great if he knew what hermitcraft was first: the fic
InTheLittleWood-centric oneshot, Ren is also there, 3364 words, no warnings :D
“Please, just explain it to me.”
Surely, after everything that’s happened, everything he’s done for them, they could at least tell him something, anything more-
“No. We don’t think we will.”
The final words of the Shadow ring out in the nothingness, and something swells as everything fades to white.
___
Martyn wakes with a gasp, and his breathing doesn’t steady. He heaves in ragged breaths, wheezing and choking on air. His eyes are screwed shut, he doesn’t want to see, he doesn’t want to know. He’ll be back in that void, or he’ll be in another game, and he can’t handle either of those right now. His robes, robes of the Shadow Alliance, are suddenly too tight, too much, and he grips the fabric with shaking hands. Martyn waits for the voice, for the sound of approaching players, but all he hears is silence. 
As the silence stretches on, with no sound of danger, player or otherwise, he forces himself into some semblance of calm. Slowly, he manages to regain control over his breathing, and he lets himself sit, eyes shut, and rests his head on his knees. His hands unclench from his robes. Eventually though, he tilts his head up, and despite his heart hammering in his throat, Martyn opens his eyes. 
First glance reveals that he is alone, but exposed. He’s sitting, or more like collapsed, on a floor made from oxidised copper, with copper pipes rather than walls supporting a shelter made from trapdoors. Vines thick with glowberries hang from the ceiling providing a soft light, but blocking his view. Furnaces and chests are stacked along one side, with a series of signs next to them- if not obvious from the build, this confirms that there are other players here with him. Who knows who, or where, they are now. He staggers to his feet, gripping one of the pipes to help stand on shaking legs. He squints at the signs, and in the dim light he reads “HERMITS HELPING HERMITS, COMMUNITY RESOURCES.” Which, well. That doesn’t seem like something you’d  find in another death game. Not exactly the most community-minded environments, those.
He becomes aware that head is spinning, and his visions blurrier than he’d like. Pushing past some of the vines, he’s met with the night sky. The moon looms overhead, and its light, while faint, may well be a spotlight. Echoes of furious reprimands ring in his ears, but he shakes his head clear. He needs to check his communicator, see what colour his name is, see who’s here with him, but his pockets are empty. A horrible, hollow feeling rises in his chest, but his frantic searching is to no avail. He’s stranded, cut off from any potential contact or information on an unknown server. He can’t see far in the darkness, and his gaze lands on a bed under the edge of the shelter, covered in simple white sheets. He sways on his feet. You know what, he decides, fuck this. Whatever is going on is future-Martyn’s problem. He’s going to bed.
InTheLittleWood went to sleep. Sweet dreams!
__
When he wakes up, it’s a lot easier than the first time. Exhaustion is still set deep in his bones, but his head feels clearer, and he’s not even dead! He half expected to be killed in his sleep, so it’s quite the pleasant surprise. Martyn knows much better to assume that means he’s safe, but the danger isn’t as immediate as it could be. He sits up, rubbing at bleary eyes before checking for his communicator again. No luck. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. ‘Course it wouldn’t be that easy.
He gets up, and begins rummaging through the chests. Hopefully there’ll be something useful in here, before he starts looking for proper gear. Sleeping unprotected was already a bad enough choice, he can’t go any longer without some form of weapon or armour. The signs described this spawn as a community area, which seems very out of place for another round. The lack of communicator, isolated start, and no knowledge of lives he can understand as a new twist, as the fear, confusion and paranoia surrounding the unknown is something the Shadows would love. But this decorated area? Described as “hermits helping hermits”, whatever that means? It doesn’t fit with that idea at all. Honestly, Martyn wants to go back to bed and sleep for at least a week, but the familiar drive to explore, learn and above all else, survive, is back and burning within him.
The chests are disappointing, but anything is better than nothing. A stone axe, pickaxe and sword slot into his inventory, and he pockets carrots he hopes to turn golden later. A glance into the furnaces reveals a handful of iron ingots, and okay, that’s a little more like it! If he can find some trees, that’ll be a shield and sword in no time. For now, he draws his stone sword, grimacing at how light it is in his hands, and steps through the curtain of vines.
Martyn blinks in the daylight, and his jaw drops at what he sees. There’s so much happening he barely knows where to look- houses and buildings dominate the landscape, giant statues towering above him, and as he turns, he sees what is possibly the largest custom tree known to man. A giant alien perches atop a house, green glass encircling it as though being abducted, with an equally giant archer aiming its bow at the creature. A roof glitters with amethyst nearby a literal poolside mansion, and there’s a cruise ship sitting stationary in the river surrounding the island he stands on. Bridges cross the water, and the ground itself is artfully shaped and moulded, flowers and moss amongst the grass. It’s like nothing he’s ever seen before, far, far beyond anything he’s ever had the reason, time or resources to build. Creations of this scale, so extravagant, unnecessary and unguarded? It’s unthinkable.
His brows furrow as he scans his surroundings. This is the setting of the next round? This place, whatever it is, couldn’t be more different to the last two servers. It’s so clearly lived in, confirming what that sign said- this looks like an actual community. But that doesn’t make any sense, the game being here doesn’t fit with the scraps of information he’d been told. The Shadows have given up on him, but he thought his failures would mean punishment in the next rounds, like starting with less lives or continuously getting cursed, not whatever’s happening here. Unless the Shadows hijacked this existing server, rather than make their own? Maybe they’ve forced the inhabitants of this world to join the games, using this pre-established, broader environment as another change for the new round? It could be meant to make the game last longer, drag it out so the end is even more painful after all the time to form attachments and build tension. Yes, that could be it- Martyn can’t dare assume he’s safe, not when he doesn’t even know how many lives he has. 
Ok, so this place isn’t what he expected. That’s fine! That’s totally fine! He’s a traveler at heart, what’s a little more land to explore? It’s a shame he won’t be able to add any new players to his creeper scare compilation without his communicator, but if he can at least get a sense of the layout, and how far this border goes, that’ll be a win for today. Martyn heads out across one of the bridges, heading for the towering tree- if he can scale that, that’ll be a decent vantage point to start from.
He avoids the main path, ducking from behind one flowering bush to another. He makes his way to the entrance without seeing anyone, and takes the opportunity to hack some wood off the base of the trunk. Quickly making a bench, he rushes to craft a shield, thankfully having enough iron to make a sword and pick too. It’s not much, especially without armour, but it’s better than before. Hefting the shield in one hand, his new sword in the other, he decides to sneak around inside, see if there’s anything inside worth stealing.
__
From the top of the tree, he had a good view. He’s got a decent mental map now, marking out the different buildings and bridges between each, but there’s still so much he doesn’t know, like where the border is. From that height, he’d been sure he’d be able to see at least a corner, but no. Nothing! If the other servers felt claustrophobic, this one feels far too big, too exposed. If he’s going to try exploring someplace this size, he needs armour first, hence: mining. His arms already ache, but he can’t stop. He raises his pick and strikes again, stone crumbling at the impact.
The monotonous work completely fails to distract him. His mind is buzzing with questions and half formed plans. Martyn needs to know how many players there are, if there are new players from this world, how many lives everyone has, how many lives he has. He’s especially stuck on where everyone else is. Even assuming this world is much larger than the previous two, it’s odd he hasn’t run into anyone yet. He has no way of knowing who’s here, where the others are, if any new alliances have been formed. Still, he doesn’t want anyone to find him underprepared, so maybe it’s for the best? All he can do is keep swinging, until he finds a cave, or hits a vein. 
(“And then I said, well it’s funny you should ask Grian, because I’ve been hiding my diamonds right here!” 
Martyn smiles as Mumbo fights to talk through laughter.
“And we keep going, for ages,” Grian adds on, his face still flushed. “Until eventually Mumbo digs a line without saying it, and you’ll never guess what he found! The one time he didn’t say it!”
“My diamonds!” They both cry as Mumbo pulls the precious stones from his suit pocket, and the Southlanders laugh with them.)
His pickaxe cracks, wood splintering in his hands. He crafts another one.
__
Martyn emerges from the mines a day later, with tired eyes and hands blistered and bleeding, but a diamond sword gleams in the morning sun, as does his chestplate. He only has iron for his legs and boots, but a sudden terror of being hunted through narrow, underground tunnels had struck him in sleepless delirium- ahem. He got a bit tired, and decided he had enough already. Anyway! Now slightly more geared up and at least somewhat armed, his next goal is enchanting. There’s still a lot to explore, and if he can find someone or somewhere with an enchanting setup while he’s looking, that’ll be two birds with one stone.
He’s squinting in the daylight after the darkness of the mines, hand raised to shield his eyes. Damn, he wishes he had sunglasses right now. He remembers Ren giving him a spare pair back in Third Life, all the better to plan a heist with. Such a shame he hadn’t been able to act out most of his plans there, and the one heist he did pull hadn’t worked as he’d hoped- if Joel hadn’t lingered breeding extra cows they surely would’ve gotten away scot free! And Scott free! Martyn grins at his wordplay, but the smile falls when there’s no one around to hear it. God, he’s already far too sentimental for early game, that’s not good. Especially if the others have already started alliances, he might have to be the loner this season, full Joel-and-his-ridiculous-number-of-dogs style.
His thoughts are interrupted by a shout from across the spawn island. Summoning his shield to hand, he scans the landscape- has he been spotted by someone, or is it a group? 
A shout again, louder this time- the person must be getting closer, but where are they? Invisible, maybe? They must have seen him.
“Martyn!!” 
Martyn is tackled from behind, the shock of it sending him and his attacker sprawling to the ground. He’s about to swing when he realises- he’s not being attacked, but very aggressively hugged. What?
“Sorry dude, didn’t mean to knock you over!” The person- Ren?!- rolls off him, quickly standing and holding out a hand. “It’s just so good to see you again!”
Martyn, dazed and more than a little confused, takes his hand instinctively and is helped to his feet. Soon as he’s up, he’s swept into another hug, Ren actually managing to pick him up and spin him round.
Once he’s set down, he staggers back a little, trying to regain balance and an understanding of literally anything that’s going on here. 
“Ren,” he begins, but words escape him as Ren outright beams at him, tail wagging furiously. 
Why in the world is he so happy to see him? They were trying to kill each other in the finale of last round, their Shadow Alliance abandoned, but here he is, greeting Martyn like an old friend.
“How’ve you been?” He manages, the words clumsy on his tongue. This interaction already feels wildly off balance, like there’s something he’s missing. He feels like he should be reacting differently somehow, but he has no idea what or why.
“Great!” Ren answers, thankfully not off put at all, “I’ve just been to visit my family, and it was wonderful to see them again! Still, always good to be back on the server, especially when I’ve got so many plans. And now you’re here! What a surprise, I wish I’d been able to prepare! Ooh, I’ll have to show you Gigapies, and the mooshroom island, give you a proper tour- ”
“Ren,” Martyn says again, trying valiantly to pretend his worldview isn’t rapidly collapsing around him. “What in the world are you talking about? You went to see your family, you- you had a holiday!?”
“Um, yes? Dude, I know I can get carried away sometimes but I do take breaks!”
Is he hallucinating right now? Is that what this is, some kind of fever dream?
“How do you take breaks during a death game?” He says, throwing his hands up. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”
Ren’s mouth shuts with an audible click. Martyn can’t see his eyes behind the tinted lenses, but he can feel the weight of his stare.
“Wait,” Ren says, ears flicking down to press against his head. “Wait, Martyn, what do you think this server is?”
“It’s the next round of Last Life? Or whatever it’s called this time, I haven’t actually run into anybody else yet.”
“Oh dude,” Ren says, “No, it’s not. This is Hermitcraft, I’m sure I’ve told you about it?”
Hermitcraft? Like Hermits, on that sign?
“It’s not like either of those worlds, we’re safe here, it’s infinite lives and everything-”
“Infinite lives?” He interrupts, suspicion rising like bile. “Ren, what? If this is a trick, you’re on my list when I go red.”
“No, I’m being honest, swear! Haven’t you seen your comms? Our names aren’t coloured, and you can see all our deaths, way more than three or six!”
Martyn shakes his head. “Lost my comm between worlds.”
“Mkay.” Ren sighs, “Well, can’t blame you for being sceptical, jeez.”
A pause. Martyn can’t bring himself to believe something so- so monumental, not just like that, not on words alone, but the idea that Ren would tell him such a bold and dangerous lie doesn’t sit right. Ren seems at a loss as to how to continue. Then, an odd expression crosses his face.
It sometimes feels like years since Third Life, but right now it might’ve been yesterday, because Martyn recognises that look. The crease of his eyebrows, the set to his jaw, speaks to apprehension, stubbornness, and a refusal to admit fear despite it being warranted. To be blunt, it means Ren’s about to do something stupid and he knows it.
‘I’ve got an idea,” he says, “I think I can prove to you that Hermitcraft is- that’s it’s safe, but you’ve got to hear me out, alright?”
“Right,” Martyn says slowly, “But I mean it Ren, if this is some kind of joke, you’ll be my first target.”
“Hearing you loud and clear, dude,” Ren smiles, tense. “So, my idea is, how about I die? I can do it myself, or you can kill me, but either way, you’ll see how different respawn is here. I’ll be completely unaffected, and I can die again, as many times as you want. How’s that?”
He’s stunned into silence. Ren’s offering to die for him, as many times as he wants? That’s not an offer to make lightly. But what if it’s a trick, and he’s on yellow now?
“Only if you can give me some assurance that if you go to red, you won’t kill me. I want a no kill pass.”
Ren pulls a pen and paper from his back pocket, and scrawls something on it before handing it to him.
It reads “Rendog’s Certified No Kill Pass! 100% legit, no take-backs :D”
“Huh,” Martyn says, “Yeah, that’ll do it.”
“So, um, the me-dying thing? Like, I can shoot up and sort of catch the arrows, or go drown maybe, but it would be quicker and probably less painful if you did it, so would you mind? I can give you my sword to make it easier, it’s fully enchanted.”
Does Ren have some kind of complex? Seriously, what is with this guy? At least it’s not an axe this time, he supposes.
Martyn takes the sword offered, and they both carefully avoid eye contact. It’s another bright and sunny day, but for a moment, he feels a phantom winter chill.
He adjusts his grip on the weapon, taking a second to check the enchantments, and damn; Martyn knew he was a skilled enchanter, but this is stunning, deadly work. And he’s going to decapitate Ren with it, because that’s just how his day is going, apparently. 
“You sure about this?” 
“Yup! Try and make it quick, the waiting is sorta stressing me out-”
Martyn swings.
Ren’s body evaporates, golden green orbs left floating where he’d stood. 
That- that is different. He blinks away the image of a bloodied corpse, staining the snow red at the steps of an altar.
The sword is clean. 
Still, he holds it defensively, shield raised. He’s got the pass, ink still wet on the page. Corpse or not, Ren has just lost a life. Will this pass actually save him if he comes back red?
The vines at spawn rustle, and Ren steps out, jogging over with a wave. 
“Nice one, that was a good clean kill! Barely even felt it. And look, no changes, see?”
He does a little spin to prove his point. 
“Also! No scar, not even a scratch.”
He tilts his head up, exposing his neck, and Martyn steps forward. He could use this chance to kill him again, but he can’t find a reason to. The skin on Ren’s neck is clear, no mottled scar tissue, no angry red inflammation. Nothing, just like he’d said. 
“Take your glasses off?” He asks, cursing himself for not checking his eyes earlier.
Ren flicks them up onto his head, and clear blue eyes meet Martyn’s. No trace of green, yellow or red, not a rim of colour or flicker of light. Just blue. 
Okay. Okay. So, the evidence. Much larger server, pre-established and definitely lived on. Out of character and strikingly different to previous rounds. Large and elaborate building projects not possible in a game environment. Sign by an apparent community resources area, hermits helping hermits. Ren said this place was called Hermitcraft. Death is different, apparently casual, painless, and without lasting impact. Eyes clear- no indication of a limited life system. Ren. Excited to see him, unafraid. Vacation, seeing family? Not trapped. Safe. Free.
Martyn breathes in, breathes out. 
“You know what? Sure, I believe you. Do you have somewhere I could crash?”
He sheaths the sword, and lets Ren take him by the hand.
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illegallyexisting · 13 days
Text
First Visit
(To the Geiermann Asylum)
This was an incredibly long project that i started sometime in the midst of January. I hope you all enjoy!!
Sweet, sweet word count: 8,111
The air was strikingly cold with dead trees lining the perimeters of the asylum; in bold gothic letters the front read “The Geiermann Asylum.” The building loomed over them, watching as they walked towards it. The bricks were old and worn with vines and plants entangling them, two large, dark wood doors adorned the top of the crooked steps.
The man that was touring (is that the right word?) them finally broke the silence, “I don’t think this place was touched in a long, long time. My dad just entrusted me to the place, said he got it from an old friend of his and that she wanted to make sure that it would be in safe hands.” They all made it up the creaking stairs and the man opened the door for us; Elliot – a newly adult with a slender build and pumpkin themed sweater on – was first to peak their head through.
“It's very... Dark. And even colder in here then out there!” Her voice echoed slightly from inside the asylum.
“Well, the lights aren’t even on in there yet, though I don’t even know if those work anymore, last they were changed was probably in the ‘60s...” The man gave them a polite smile and ushered them all inside. Inside the asylum was, well, cold, but particularly massive. In front there was a long hallway stretching for who knows how long, on their left was a regular wall with what was a torn-up photo (or perhaps a painting) and table sitting underneath it with a wilted vase of flowers on top. As they walked in further, it was apparent that leading upstairs was a dilapidated staircase on their right, and next to it a staircase leading to another abyss. The man turned on the lights and they came flickering to life, very dimly to say the least.
“I don’t think there's anything else to mention, you’se can all just look around, I’ll be outside walking if you need me.” He gave them another polite smile and left the asylum. Everyone went to their little corners of the entrance way, Vixen to a nearby couch slightly covered by cobwebs, Elliott to the mysterious staircases, Jesse looking at the different paintings and photos (about all of them horribly damaged by time), and Laysha was taking in the entire abandoned asylum. She looked all around, hopping from place to place seeing what her friends were doing, studying all of the entry room. As she was doing so, thoughts popped into her mind, “Who were the people here?” “What were they like?” “What were they here for?” but her thoughts were interrupted.
“Hey, you alright?” It was just Jesse standing next to her now.
“Oh, yes, yes. Say, what if we looked around some more? Obviously, the place is huge, so what if we split into groups of two? We could cover more ground,” She turned around looking at the rest of her friends, “And call each other if anything happens!” Laysha smiled, clapping her hands together thrice to get Vixen and Elliott’s attention. They lifted their heads up from where they were standing (and sitting).
“Alright, so, here’s how this is gonna go. Jesse and Vixen, you two go together and explore the upstairs and me and Elliott will explore down here. Any questions? No, good!” Laysha gave the group a beaming smile as the others left and beckoned Elliott to come to her.
“So, where exactly do we go now? I mean we could go in that weird basement thing-” And Laysha immediately interjected.
“What about just down the hallway and search there? I don’t want to go down there yet, and plus I said that we were gonna explore here.” Elliott tilted his head, but sighed and gave her a reassuring look.
“Alright fine, you lead the way then!”
Laysha laughed and began walking down the hallway, looking at everything in awe. Elliott followed in pursuit, looking around with her. The walls were littered with cobwebs and pictures hung up on the walls, along with the occasional shelf of books or years dead plants. Eventually, they made their way to what seemed to be another corridor but filled with rooms upon rooms, each with small windows – barely enough room to stick your head through – on the sides of the doors and on them. Some doors were open, some stayed shut, as with some of the windows being destroyed. They were both looking down at each side of the hallway with simultaneous confusion and awe, until something caught Elliott’s eye. It seemed to be coming from an open door some ways off, and it looked like someone was staring straight back at him. He squinted his eyes, but just as he noticed the supposed person, they went straight back into the room. He took a few steps back until they accidentally bumped into Laysha.
“Woah, everything all right?”
“I- Well- No. Look, I’m, fairly sure I saw someone, they had like- Shoulder length black hair and they were completely like-” Elliott continued to stumble his way through his words, confusing Laysha that such a person like them could even be stammering this much.
“Alright, just calm down! Maybe it was just a trick of the light? Aren’t you needing to get new glasses soon, too, right?”
He started to calm down, lowering his voice, “Right, you’re right. Trick of the light, or eyes, or something.” They both chuckled lightly and continued as Elliott tried to shake off what he might have seen. Laysha went down the left side of the hallway and Elliott went down the right side, albeit nervous. As Laysha went forward, she looked inside every nook and cranny of the doors, seeing what was in them and what was left there. Practically every room held nothing but multiple, horrifically dirtied bunk beds, the occasional glass on the floor, and spider webs everywhere. There appeared to be nothing more than just the same thing over and over, stretching on for God knows how long. On the right side of the hallway was Elliott, doing the same as Laysha, but looking more carefully and wondering if what they saw wasn’t a trick of the eyes. What if it was someone else? What if it isn’t just the four of them in the asylum? Was it a bad idea? They are already in the asylum, too late to back out now.
Meanwhile, Vixen and Jesse were doing the exact same thing, looking through the rooms. Although eventually they had found a rubber room, it was less a bright white room and more so a grayed and deadened space.
Jesse spoke, making Vixen jump, “You would guess that there would be more, I dunno, things here?”
“Well, these are just normal rooms you would see at a place like this,” They both exited the room, “You think we’re looking in the wrong place?”
“Could be, I guess we’ll have to walk around more and see!” Jesse smiled, giving Vixen a vague sense of reassurance. Jesse started to walk off in another direction, but Vixen stayed back just for a few seconds. He spun and looked around, down the hallways, through other rooms. Then he had a strange feeling, like he was being looked at, stalked. He noticed a slight bluish, colored glow, his mind went on full speed, and he hurled around behind him to see where it was coming from, catching a glimpse of what looked like an eye, but as he turned it was too late. The light disappeared. He shrieked, and immediately ran back over to Jesse, promptly pretending that nothing had happened, but Jesse turned towards Vixen with a mix of confusion and shock on his face.
“Did you just scream?” But he was cut off by Vixen.
“There was something watching me.” Vixen’s voice quiet and he looked petrified, eyes wide and arms close to his body.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, Jesse! I saw some weird light and I turned around, and then it was gone!”
Jesse stopped and fully turned to Vixen, grabbing him by the shoulders.
“Look, it was probably just the sun casting by,” Jesse was cut off again.
“Listen to me, it was blue! There is something here with us,” Vixen wasn’t as scared anymore, but now annoyed that his friend won’t listen to him. His voice became more strained, “I don’t know what it was, but I know there was definitely something!”
“Alright, alright, I believe you, just stick close to me for now.” He took his hands off Vixen’s shoulders and nodded his head to follow, and Vixen followed suit.
Downstairs, Laysha, and Elliott found their way out of the twisting hallways and back somewhere near the main entrance. Elliott had gone over to what seemed to be a storage room, investigating whatever could be in there. Laysha had wandered down another, shorter hallway with only a few paintings and photographs lining the left side of the wall and on the right was a dark, wooden door. There was nothing too intriguing about it, but it drew Laysha in; another place to explore! She walked towards the door in effortless steps and opened it up.
Inside the room was an old, dusty wood desk with a chair slid into it- An office, perhaps? The walls were a deep maroon with entirely black floorboards. To the sides of the centered desk were two bookshelves, both partially filled with varying books. On the back wall was a window covered with curtains and underneath it was two strange, square objects both covered in a white sheet. Laysha fully walked in and was hit with a strange aroma, an odd smell of iron. She realized that on the desk layer a large book and she went over to investigate. Opening it up to a random page near the end, she soon discovered that it was all full of names; names of the patients and their reasons for stay. The names read as Ruby Di Amore, Ethel Wisconsin, Sherwood Sappington, Oscar Quinlan, Edwin Forester, Dorothy Falk… The list seemed to stretch on and on. The book seemed to hold upon hundreds of pages as she flipped through, skimming through the names of all these people, at a certain point the names had stopped being written down with the last name being recorded in 1922. She started reading before the last date, but a strange presence irked her, something that told her to look around, be more alert, but she continued and carefully read the names.
Elliott had searched around the storage room but found nothing of interest. Most of the boxes were full of old clothes or straightjackets, trinkets, and other odds, destroyed paintings beyond repair. So, he exited the room in a huff, slightly let down by the unexcited boxes. Instead, they decided to put their focus on the stairways and started towards them. Obviously, there was no way that they could walk up the dilapidated staircase, so why not downwards? He took one look and was met with a curious darkness staring right back at her. She took a deep breath and prepared herself, then took the plunge and started their walk down.
The stairway was long and did not seem to get much brighter, but eventually Elliott made his way to the bottom. He was met with not a destroyed, old basement, but what seemed to be a recreated speakeasy bar, decorated with nice warm colors. A bar was on the left, all stocked with alcoholic beverages and glasses and on the right were booths, accompanied by tables situated throughout the makeshift speakeasy. He took a closer look and led himself through.
Laysha was still listing off names from the patient book. Soaking in all their names, histories, and entries. It was about 2 pages back that she decided to stop and remembered her surroundings. The iron smell, the dull room. She sighed, standing up and scooting out of the chair, only to bump right into someone. She yelped, apologizing, before standing back and looking at the person in front of her.
Who she was met with was a man fully decked in red towering over her. Against his greying hair, he was wearing a stark top hat – almost reaching the ceiling in height – and a frock coat littered with stitched up patterns across his stomach. A silver pocket watch shined against his dark red pants, but Laysha was quickly drawn back up to his face; an annoyed look turned to anger.
“About time,” His deep voice bellowed across the room – what seemed like wisps coming up from his shoulders alighting his face, “What you think you are doing here and why are you here?” The man had a thick French accent, although that should not matter to her right now, she was entirely impressed.
“Oh, me and my friends were just- Uhm, looking around here,” Laysha stumbled over her words, giving out a nervous smile and slowly scooted away from the man before having a late realization, “Wait are you-”
“Friends? There are more?” He watched her carefully as she moved away, charily inspecting her movements.
“Well, yes, there is. There’s four of us, I don’t know where the rest of them are, sir,” She stopped in front of the left bookshelf, glancing around before holding her hand out for a handshake, “I’m Laysha, and you?” She kept her voice as calm and approachable as she could. All he did was turn, look down at her hand, then back up at her, raising a brow.
“Dr. Geiermann,” He rubbed his face and sighed. He glanced around the room in thought, wondering what move to make next, “I cannot bother doing this, I will let Vincent find the rest of you...” He bowed his head whilst mumbling words underneath his breath, before walking forward and disappearing into the wall. Laysha stood there in complete shock. Did she witness a ghost for herself? An actual dead person, standing in front of her? I mean there was no doubt about it, he looked human, but his eyes were black and hollow save for two pink pupils in the middle. And the wisps coming off his shoulders! He was dressed in what could it have been- the Victorian era at least. He did not seem happy to see her at all, or to hear that her friends came along with her, but his name... Dr. Geiermann! Of all the people, could she have just met the past owner?
Back downstairs, Elliott was still in awe. Looking around and studying the place.
He thought aloud, “But how could this even be here? It couldn’t be that old, half of this stuff is new...”
They looked behind the bar and picked up a bottle of whiskey, checking everywhere on it to see if he could find a date. After turning it around quite a few times, she managed to find a due date on the back of it.
January 30th, 2021, that's only a few days away.
Thinking aloud again, she spoke, “Now who in God’s name would have a place like this underneath an asylum of all things and even keep it stocked!”
“Well, well, can’t a few ghosts have a good time as well?” The voice appeared behind her, giggling as she stood completely frozen. A bluish light materialized from behind, complimented with reds and purples. Elliott slowly turned to face the mysterious voice, the liquid quaking in her grasp.
“What, a little chicken-hearted?” She fully turned around, now in front of them was a half-faced man. A grin was spread across his face, his pupils large and glowing behind his red tinted glasses.
Holding his hand out to shake, he spoke once more, “Hello.”
Back up in the second story, Vixen and Jesse stuck close to each other. The grey light shined through the cracked and broken windows of the asylum, lightening the already dim glow of the lightbulbs. Across both hallways, were the same rooms, repeatedly. Holding the same things; bunkbeds, dirtied floors, chipped off walls, and cobwebs. Despite this, they thought that if they still peaked in, there would be something different. Maybe not. At a certain point, the hallway broke off into two once more.
“Do you think it would be worth going down there?” Jesse questioned as he turned his head to his friend.
Vixen tilted his head, shifted a bit then responded in a wary tone, “No, I don’t think it would be worth it. What's to say that it isn’t the same thing again like the time before,”
“True, true.” Jesse responded, but something diverted their attention. In the corner of their eye, they saw a shadow walk by and what sounded like insults being thrown each and every way.
‘Idiot.’
‘Could not bother to stay put.’
‘But he is always like that, isn’t it?’
They kept going until the man passed their view and Jesse went chasing after the man. By the time Vixen even registered what had happened, Jesse turned the corner and was gone.
When Jesse turned, there was no one there, the man was completely gone. He couldn’t hear the person anymore, like he had vanished out of thin air. Vixen came running back up to him, startled and out of breath.
“Jesse, what do you think you’re doing?” He was huffing, trying to catch his breath.
“I was trying to see who that was,”
“Let me guess, they weren’t there anymore?”
“No, they weren’t. All I could make out is that he might have been wearing some sort of, I don’t know, top hat?”
Vixen’s eyes widened and he started to tug on Jesse’s shirt, visibly shaken, “Come on, Jesse, there’s clearly other people here and I don’t know if we should be staying any longer. I swear, there was someone watching me before, and I don’t want to experience that again!”
“Well, what’s to say that the others didn’t see anything, too? Maybe Laysha saw something or someone – this is more her specialty.”
As soon as Jesse finished speaking, both heard a yelp from downstairs. They both looked at each other before agreeing in silence to rush down to see what had happened.
It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the first story, and they were met with Elliott, looking entirely disheveled.
Jesse ran up to her, desperately inquiring, “What in the world happened down there, are you okay?”
Elliott took a step back, catching herself and looking at her friend confused, “You only just heard me?”
“What do you mean, were you yelling beforehand?”
“Of course I was! There was this, like, blue light behind me and then someone said something, and I turned around and he was inches away from my face!”
“Alright well who was this he?”
“Why do you think I know?”
“I don’t know, describe him then!”
“He was all in fancy clothes, top hat and all; he even had a cane! I think he was wearing some type of tailcoat?” She paused to catch her breath, trying to run her mind back up to speed with the rest of her body.
Vixen crossed his arms – more so hugging himself, “Great, completely great, this place is actually haunted! What are we supposed to do now?”
Jesse huffed, upset at Vixen’s remark, “We just wait for Laysha, Elliott where exactly is she?”
“I’m fairly sure she went to the office last I was with her,”
“What do you mean ‘last I was with her?”
“Well, we split up to cover more ground on the first floor, but I am fairly certain she did go there. Do we go get her, or?”
“Unless she comes to us herself, we’ll go and find her then.”
Back in the office with Laysha, she was still reeling from her encounter with an actual ghost! How cool is that? She was already tapping away on her phone, writing down what the man looked like and what she thought of him, so she remembered. Now she has to tell her friends. Quickly putting her phone back in her pocket, she rushed outside of the office. She booked it outside only to meet right with her friends, waiting for her. They all looked different degrees of shocked.
She tilted her head, confused, “Did something happen, what’s wrong?”
Jesse was the first to tell her, “Look, all of us are pretty sure this place is haunted, me and Vixen saw some guy walking down the hallway, along with something glowing, watching Vixen, and Jesse had someone right up to their face!”
“Oh, yeah, it is,” She gave Jesse a wide smile, “You just realized that?”
“What do you mean? Did you know that beforehand?”
“Well, not really,” she crossed her arm, holding up her hand to her chin, “I came across one when I was in that office. So, you found more?”
“Yes, we found more!” He was more aggressive in his tone now, very much upset about the fact that she didn’t tell any of that to him sooner.
“Sweet! Where are they?”
“We don’t know, they’re all gone now,” Jesse put his hands on his hip, “How would you suggest we find them? Seems like they’re all spread out around this maze of a place,” He appeared to be more levelheaded now, softening his voice.
Laysha made a quiet “Hm” sound, “What if we just go searching from where they came from? Didn’t Elliott say that they came from the speakeasy, did you respond to the ghost in any way, or did you just run?”
Elliott promptly piped up, “No, I just ran,” He clasped his hands and shuffled in his spot a little bit, “The guy seemed creepy either way.”
Laysha had a bright, encouraging smile on her face, “Well then maybe he’s still there, I say we go check.”
Without giving any of her friends a choice, she hastily made her way down the winding hallways all the way to the makeshift speakeasy.
The entrance to the speakeasy was as dark as ever; like it was sucking in the surrounding light for itself. Laysha swiftly made her way down the stairs, intaking every little detail (about as much as her eyes could let her). The oldened floorboards creaked beneath her shoes until she finally made it down. As she stepped down, she immediately went in a sprint to look for the supposed ghost. She booked it straight towards the bar, looking down behind it but alas, found nothing. Rapidly jumping up and over from the bar, she looked past the nearby corner of the room, but there was still nothing in sight. The entire speakeasy was flat and open and there were no ghosts to be seen.
Laysha sighed and moped to the center of the room, “Well, so much for that.”
“Well, I wouldn’t give up so easily now!”
She jumped and instantly turned around, abruptly met with a man smiling only mere inches from her face. As she turned away, he floated backwards and held his hand out to shake. Laysha shook it and promptly had a horrible, painfully cold sensation going up through her hand and into her arm.
“Hello, hello! The name’s Vincent, Dr. Vincent Geiermann and you are?” He rapidly shook her hand up and down, not even letting go for just a second.
She barely understood what he was saying, sounding like a slur of vowels and breaths strung together and barely pronounced consonants. Laysha quickly pieced together that he was asking what her name is.
Talking with a steady voice, she responded, “Oh, my name is Laysha, Laysha Boyer. Those are my, uh, friends over there.” She gestured with her head and saw Elliott giving her a disapproving shake of the head.
With an unnatural turn of the neck, the doctor stared at her friends with an even wider half-faced grin. They all stared at Dr. Vincent with large eyes. The man was dressed from head to toe in shades of blue and green; save for his circular, bright red glasses and a top hat taking up most of his height. His tailcoat was spread out as he floated, and underneath it seemed to be a tie and a green button-up. Most notable of all was the mask covering the left side of his face.
He floated over to the group, kicking his feet and giggling. Scanning over the group, his cyan pupil began to widen.
“Say, what exactly brought you’se four here?” He turned upside down and proceeded to float over them, “Its a rarity to see anyone that's here and not around to mess up the place or whatnot; but you’se seem like a good bunch!”
The ghost chuckled after finishing his sentence and the group all took turns glancing and nervously looking at each other. Suddenly, he flipped back upwards and twirled his cane, setting it right back on the ground. His legs continued to float as he rested his arms on the cane.
Jesse was the one to pipe up first, “Well, the gist is that we kind of... Hunt ghosts? And we were here to see if there were any to, uh...” He trailed off, still baffled about everything that is occurring.
Elliott finished for him, “We were coming to see if we could buy it and use it as a haunted place attraction.” She was completely unmoving from her spot, letting her monotone voice do all the work. Dr. Vincents eye widened as his smile managed to creep up through his face.
He let out a sinister laugh before responding, “Oh, how lovely, lovely! Also, also, did you happen to see any other ghosts on your little tour?” Dr. Vincent seemed entirely unphased by the whole “buying the asylum” bit and instead indulged in his own conversation.
“I found a ghost in the office-” Laysha was cut off in an instant by the ghost.
“Oh, that was my father, don’t worry about him!” He giggled and joked, not having a care in the world (I guess you wouldn’t if you’d been on Earth for that long).
Vixen made a small gasping noise before questioning, “Wait so you are-”
Dr. Vincent cut him off immediately; already knowing the question and answer, “Yes, yes, second – and last, heir to the throne of the asylum! I thought, I thought I gave it away with the whole introducing myself as doctor and Geiermann, not the brightest of the bunch, eh?”
“Well, I-”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” He appeared over to Vixen in less than a second, “You even lose a bit of that smartness when you’ve been staring at the daisy roots for how long!” He laughed and leaned his head on Vixen’s shoulder until the boy rapidly stammered away from the ghost. Dr. Vincent promptly reappeared back to his original standing point and continued their little conversation.
“So, you’se were saying about possibly buying the place; turn it into those haunted house ‘tractions, yeah? How much we talking here?” Not being able to stay still, he started floating and roaming around the group; making zig zags between them. Patiently (or not so) waiting for a response.
Laysha started walking towards her friends, watching the ghost drift mesmerizingly above, “Well, I think- I guess it would depend on how much you would like it to be.”
She returned to her friend group, but Elliott leaned in and asked her, “Do you not think it would matter more if we asked the guy that owns the place?”
“Well, considering that there are also other people that live here, I think we should ask them too!”
Elliott sighed, not wishing to pursue the conversation, so he let Laysha and Dr. Vincent continue with their bargaining.
She crossed her arms, “Exactly how old is this place?”
The ghost paused, tapping the bottom of his chin with a quizzical look, and making a ‘Hm’ sound. Without warning, a large puff of red smoke appeared right next to Dr. Vincent. As it dissipated, a figure took form and revealed that it was the same ghost from the office; Dr. Geiermann himself.
He spoke in a low, annoyed voice, “One hundred and thirty-seven years old. I thought you would do better, Vincent,” He turned to the group and raised a brow, “You are the others I presume?”
Vincent answered right away for them, “Yes, yes, they’re visitors, visitors!”
“Trespassers, imbécile,” He shot his head over to his son and frowned, “You are seriously giving the asylum away to children?”
Laysha argued, “We are not children! We have a whole job to do, that’s why we want to buy this asylum in the first place!”
“I do not want this place to be the next dernier cri, so do not bother-”
Vincent rapidly flew over to Laysha and held his hand out with a malicious smile, “How does 5 grand sound?”
Dr. Geiermann sputtered and stammered for a second before gathering himself together, but by that time Laysha had made her choice.
“It’s a deal.” She shook his hand and started giggling as his smile grew, unnaturally stretching up to his eye.
“And how! So wonderful, wonderful!”
“No, Vincent, not wonderful,” Dr. Geiermann grabbed his son by the shoulders, moving him away from Laysha. Vincent stared up at his dad with a confused and frankly annoyed expression, “You do know what you are doing, right? You are seriously giving it away that easily? You did not even think!”
“First of all, I thought it all the way through.”
“En cinq secondes, sérieusement?”
“Yes, I know, shocking. I think it would be nice to have more visitors, wouldn’t you say?”
Dr. Geiermann sighed and rolled his eyes, exhausted, “Tu me donnes mal à la tête...”
Vixen leaned into Laysha and whispered to her, “What is he saying?”
“I have no clue,” She replied in a similar subtle tone.
Vincent exclaimed once more as he whipped his head around to the group; his pupils a wide blue, “We have come to an agreement!”
Dr. Geiermann chipped in an immediate, “No we did not,” he scooted his son away and stiffly approached the friends. He stopped just in front of them, staring them down; he finally replied, “If you go through with buying this place, I have rules. You touch not a thing, you change nothing, you add nothing; is this go to be a paid tour?”
Laysha panicked for a moment before responding, “Oh, uh, yes?”
“Then you can put a box next the front entrance. That will be the only thing you add. You will add caution tape to the front of the stairs,” he walked over to the end of the staircase and pointed to the top of it, leading back to the main hall, “None of us want anyone else down here. You tell people, stay together, no one go to upstairs near the main entrance. Only the first and second floors. Do you understand?”
Laysha shook her head in slight confusion, but he had a point, it was his asylum after all, “Alright, we’ll follow your rules.”
Vincent responded an unnecessary and drawn out, “Boring,” he made a yawning motion with his hand. His father shot him a sharp glare, narrowing his eyes, but Vincent did not seem to care nor notice, “So many rules,” He tilted his head backwards to where his father was standing, “You’re a real pill, you know that?”
“And you think of yourself as better?” Dr. Geiermann started walking his way back to the group, looking down at his son, “You were about to let them do qui sait quoi!”
“Oh, boohoo, at least it would’ve brightened the place up a bit,” He stuck his tongue out nonchalantly, “But I’m guessing you wouldn’t want that, eh?” He started giggling at his own joke.
His father rolled his eyes, but took his attention back to the friend group, “So, you understand what you can and cannot do?”
Laysha nodded, “Yes, we do,” she glanced over to her friends with a desperate look in her eyes. The group nodded with murmurs of yes’s and yeah’s.
Dr. Vincent swiftly turned his head up and in an unnatural pattern, he swiftly floated over back to Laysha and shook her hand once more.
“Another deal then!” He rapidly shook her hand up and down before moving onto the rest of the friend group. The ghost swapped his hands, turning them over on one another, almost looking like a pretzel in comparison. Vixen had jumped back slightly at the sheer freezing cold of Dr. Vincent’s hand. Elliott and Jesse just nodded and shook, exchanging distressed looks to each other.
He finally let go, sparing everyone of a frostbitten hand. The ghost ascended upwards, suddenly stopping just before the ceiling and he looked down at the newfound owners in an aplomb pose. Dr. Geiermann watched his son with skepticism and uncertainty.
“So, any more questions or anything for me at all?” Dr. Vincent smiled as he scanned the group. He checked their mannerisms, any minute details. The way they looked; the way they stared in absolute awestruck.
Seemingly with no questions asked, he was just about to continue until Vixen impulsively asked, “What’s with the half a mask?”
The ghost snapped his attention abnormally over to the young man, his smile unwavering. He immediately flitted down to him, only mere inches away from his face, close enough to feel the icy chill. Then he spoke, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Vixen was astonished and creeped out, the color seemingly draining from his face. His lips quaked, but all the ghost did was chuckle at his sheer fear until it turned into a boisterous laugh, swinging his arm around Vixen, “Oh, I’m just messing with ya!” Dr. Vincent took his arm away from Vixen, still continuing his giggling spree.
Dr. Geiermann looked at his son, his pupils visibly only a slit now, and turned to Vixen, “This is what you will deal with now,” Vixen nodded slowly while giving out a nervous chuckle.
Laysha had been in thought for quite some time, and decided, “If you have rules, then I have some as well,”
“For my own asylum?”
“Yes, actually. First of all, don’t interfere much,” She got cut off in an instant.
“Again, in my own asylum?” The ghost took a menacing step forward, narrowing his eyes.
Laysha confidently continued, “Let me finish, do not interfere much while we are working. Like doing tours and stuff.”
Dr. Vincent floated over to his father with his arms drooping downwards, seemingly sliding over to him without a single real movement, “Didn’t you say that the whole deal of buying this place was to turn into a, y’know, haunted tour?”
“I mean, yes, obviously, then there would be no fun! But just maybe keep the whole...” Laysha trailed off, trying to think of the correct words to use to not make anyone upset, “Everything to a minimum.”
“By everything do you mean him?” Dr. Geiermann nodded his head towards his son, and he seemed entirely unfazed about the fact they were now talking about him. He was just fiddling with his gloves.
Laysha nodded slowly in agreement, “Yes, and whoever else is here in the asylum, like the past patients, I’m assuming.”
“I saw someone staring me down in one of the hallways thirty or so minutes ago,” Elliott piped up from the midst of the group, walking forward slightly, “Was that one of them or?”
The ghosts both promptly answered, “Ruth,” Dr. Vincent snapped his head up and Dr. Geiermann stood taut as he stared at Elliott. Dr. Geiermann spoke normally, “Do not worry about her, she just likes staring on occasion.”
“Not like she can do much either way with how balled up she normally is!” Dr. Vincent started to shake in laughter, nudging his dad by the side with his elbow to see if he thought his, quite frankly, mean-spirited joke was. All Dr. Geiermann did was look down at him, and stare at him with completely dead eyes and no sign nor even a flinch of joy within this man.
“Well alright then,” Dr. Vincent rolled his eyes and gave out a dramatic sigh.
Laysha continued her list of rules, ignoring (well doing her best to ignore) what happened, “Do not fiddle with the money box and...” Now she completely forgot what she was going to say. Laysha frantically darted her eyes to her friends, hoping they could at least think of something to help her with ground rules or anything!
Jesse had stepped up to help Laysha, and spoke for her, “How about no picking up objects, so it isn’t too obvious that you guys are actually there,”
“Oh, and no making too much noise.”
Dr. Vincent tilted his head, “Exactly what counts as too much noise?”
Geiermann added on, “Can I even be allowed a walk?”
“Well, yes, obviously! Just don’t go around causing a ruckus,” Laysha quickly rebutted, “Like smashing stuff or arguing to each other.”
The ghost made a snide remark to his son, “Do you hear that, Vincent?”
“Yeah, did you?” He snapped back, crossing his arms in defiance, “With how much of a bluenose you already are, I never woulda’ thunk you do anything to begin with!”
“How many idiotic insults will you make until you stop your wake snakes spree?”
“Till the death of the universe, dearest father!” He leaned up close to Dr. Geiermann’s shoulder before breaking down in a laughing fit from how funny he thought he was.
“You are a complete lunkhead!” Dr. Geiermann shoved his son away from him.
The friend group simply watched on as the two ghosts started to go back and forth with each other. They kept spouting out different insults, annoying and taunting one another. Getting louder and louder, Dr. Vincent started shouting out profanities now, and he started getting physical. He shoved and poked his father, his gestures becoming increasingly varied and wild. Dr. Geiermann only stood his ground and continued to verbally reprimand his son.
“Well, you never close your head, so that’s on you!” Dr. Vincent blurted out.
Dr. Geiermann defiantly acquitted himself, “On me? C’est vous qui ne vous taisez jamais!”
“Est-ce que je ne me tais jamais ? C’est parce que vous ne vous taisez jamais et que vous vous plaignez toujours!” Dr. Vincent quickly snapped back at him over and over, now very rarely even giving his father a chance to react.
Laysha shuffled backwards to her friends and whispered, “Still don’t understand what they’re saying?”
Vixen mumbled back a measly, “Nope.”
The argument had now become a full on shouting match. The ghosts were screaming at each other, and so loud that Elliott noticed something just out of the corner of her eye. She leaned over to see up the stairs and saw three other ghosts staring down at them; two to the right and one to the left. Elliott immediately recognized one of the ghosts coming from the right- Ruth. The one that was staring him down at the hallway, but the other two he had no clue of.
The shorter one, seemingly only a child, was of a magenta hue. Her hair was shaped almost like a bowl cut, and she was wearing an oversized simple dress. From what he could see, random dark splotches dotted her arms. The ghost to the left had his entire head covered in bandages. His was of a tan and blue colors, sporting a simple t-shirt and pants. Although, when Elliott looked closer, she noticed that his head was floating instead if being attached to any neck. Elliott nudged Laysha by the shoulder, tilting and gesturing with their head to look up towards the stairs. As she did, her eyes widened in realization.
“Visitors?” Laysha said a bit too loudly for her liking.
Dr. Geiermann and Dr. Vincent shot their heads over to the friends, then turning their attention too the staring ghosts upstairs.
Without missing a beat, Dr. Vincent’s face grew in anger, and he flew to the end of the stairs and yelled, “SCRAM!”
They all disappeared in an instant, although the child lingered for slightly longer before slowly moving out of view. Dr. Vincent put back his façade as soon as they left, and calmly floated back down in front of the group. Dr. Geiermann still looked like he was fuming from the argument but didn’t want to engage any more than he had to.
“So, what were we discussing again?” Quizzed Dr. Vincent.
The group was still visibly reeling from the shouting match, all of them having wide eyes. But Laysha once again took hold of the answer.
“We were, uh, talking about rules… But I think that was it, right guys?” She looked back and forth between her friends with a desperate look in her face and a nervous smile. All four of them nodded and gave different variations of yes; yup’s, yeah’s, and ‘mhm’ littered the air.
“And how! That was a lovely conversation- though excuse my father for the disturbance.” Dr. Vincent pointed back to his dad as he was about to blow a fuse.
Instead, Dr. Geiermann angerly stated, “You know what? No!” And just in a flash, he disappeared into a cloud of smoke.
“Well thankfully, he’s gone now, so we have nothing to worry about!” He chuckled mid-sentence before calming back down, resting to his unnatural grin. He floated over in front of the group and rapidly looked between them.
“So, anything else you’se guy’s wanna know? Any other questions?” He was currently floating upside down now, putting his cane horizontally up to his chest and spinning it, waiting for any response.
Laysha spoke up in an instant, “How long did you run this place? When did you start working here?”
Dr. Vincent started giggling, “Oh, sometime after my father had died! I only lasted about 20 years before I kicked the bucket, but it happens to the best of us,” He tossed and turned in a fit of laughter. Smiling maniacally, he continued on, “And it paid some good clams from my last job as well! But that’s all.”
“Oh, thank you for the insight then.”
Dr. Vincent shook her hand rapidly, again sending multiple waves of freezing shock up in her arms, “Of course, of course!”
She nodded and pulled away from him as soon as he let go, “So, that was all we needed, actually.”
“Oh, seriously? Well, thank you for stopping by,” He seemed to switch tones, seemingly threatening, “Better get the money here soon.”
Laysha chuckled nervously, “Yup.”
He swiftly floated over to the end of the staircase and beckoned the group to follow him. They all promptly followed him back up the stairs. He started talking as they walked up the stairs, but most of the conversation was filled with his giggling and vaguely audible sentences. The friends just nodded along with him as they went along, not understanding his fast pace. After the trek upstairs, they said their goodbyes to each other.
“I’ll make sure that this place is in tip top shape when you come back to check in in a week,” Dr. Vincent floated upright (finally), “Certainly a pleasant time meeting you’se four!”
“And to you as well-” Before Laysha could finish, he grabbed her hand and shook it for the umpteenth time.
“Well, goodbye, goodbye. Have a wonderful day!” He cheerfully exclaimed.
The group, one by one, exited the asylum, but were stopped for a few seconds to receive Dr. Vincent’s chilling shake. They all left down the steps, and he yelled to them, “Au revoir!” before he slammed the door without giving them a second to respond.
After they had left, they all joked about what had happened. The strange asylum, the eccentric ghost and his father (among the others they didn’t even get to meet).
“How many others do you bet were in there?” Jesse larked.
“Do you see how big that place is?” Elliott gestured to the massive asylum, “There has to be at least two-hundred ghosts.”
“Two hundred, seriously?”
Laysha laughed at their antics, deciding to walk around the asylum for a bit. She stared at the cracked bricks, littered with vines and plants. The entire building seemed to be taken back by nature now that she looked at it. She carried on walking to the right of the building, breathing in every detail, but she still wished that she questioned them more. What’s the history of this place? What about the ghosts that were sentenced to the asylum? Drowning in her thoughts, she made her way to one end of the building and peeking out from around the corner seemed to be a cemetery. Laysha tilted her head, above it read “The Geiermann Cemetery.” Could it have been for the past patients? Vixen interrupted her thoughts by appearing behind her, tapping her on the shoulder and giving her a bit of a scare.
“What are you doing over here?” Vixen quizzed.
“Just wanted to walk around the place, what about you?”
“We were looking for you,” He chuckled lightly, “Isn’t the guy supposed to pick us back up soon?”
“Oh, right, right! I completely forgot,” She glanced over back to the cemetery.
“What are you staring at?” Vixen leaned over to see what she was looking at.
“I don’t know, must have been an old graveyard or cemetery thing to keep the past patients. I mean, you heard what Elliott said,” Laysha gave him a polite smile, “About time we get going, I don’t want Jesse gnawing at my throat for being late.”
Vixen laughed and they went on their way.
They walked back, greeted their friends but Laysha had not told them about what she saw, and Vixen already seemingly forgot. After about a minute or so, the man arrived to pick them back up. He asked how they liked the place and if anything happened, but they had a silent agreement not to say anything about the ghosts just yet. They just joked about certain things that had happened (or changed them for the story) and went on with their lives. Laysha had told the man that she would like to buy it for the five thousand agreed before. He expressed a bit of shock but complied. They arrived back at the car and said their goodbyes to the man and drove off, discussing what to do next.
Epilogue…
Around 2 hours later...
Dr. Geiermann was looking outside a window on the far right of the asylum. The sun had started to set, and lay harsh shadows against the dead forest. Leaves were brushing around in the wind, dancing and swirling until the gushing wind had stopped. The sun was bright as it sunk down past the Earth from his view. No one else was roaming the hallways and no other sounds were being made. He was all alone with his thoughts. Up until a blue flume of smoke appeared behind him, and a familiar tricolor glow was seen. Dr. Geiermann let out an annoyed sigh before turning to look at his son.
“Have you come to apologize yet?” His face grew dark.
“For what?”
Dr. Geiermann groaned before responding, “Never mind.”
His son giggled and promptly rested his arm on his father’s shoulder, “But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
His father turned back around to the window, “What do you want of me, Vincent?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing! Just about those kids. So when they come back around and buy the place, who’s gonna look out for the tourists?”
“What exactly are you to get at here? Such as…” Dr. Geiermann trailed off, flitting and turning his hand about to get the right words, “Vous cherchez les touristes pour qu’ils ne nous voient pas?”
“Exactly!” Dr. Vincent snapped his fingers and moved his head away. He started floating around, tapping his finger on his chin, wondering, “So, who exactly do you think would be good for that?”
“Why are you asking me?” His son cut him off in a flash.
“Of course, you would be perfect, perfect! Thank you, thank you!” He gave his father a swift hug, and just as he appeared, he was gone once more.
Dr. Geiermann was left there to ponder what had just happened to him (again) and question what his son had gotten them all into. All he could for now, is stare back out into the now nightly dark woods, and wait until next week.
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hook--line · 5 months
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Finally beat the puppet master, saw that Lie was written in red! Hope this isn't foreshadowing anything!!
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daxieoclock · 5 months
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EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS
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My best friend and her girlfriend (both transfem) are struggling financially right now, and at risk of homelessness. I'm opening commissions to help raise funds for them.
I do prose or fic requests, ghost writing, fiction editing, genre tutoring, and photography+poetry. I will provide samples of any on request.
Prose, fanfic or ghost writing: 1$ per 100 words (5$ per double-spaced page).
Fiction editing: 1$ per page you'd like my in-depth feedback on.
Genre tutoring: 15$ for a (roughly) hour long lecture on a genre, trope or writing technique of your choice.
Photography + poetry: 15$ for a single image and poem pair with a subject, tone or prompt of your choice.
Sensitivity reading (transfem, nonbinary, lesbian, autism, bpd, ptsd, Jewish): 10$ minimum for <15 pages, 1$ extra for every page over 15.
Either of the following "links" should work (remove the spaces). Even if you don't want a commission, please consider sending a few bucks of support. Even a little bit helps.
p a y p a l . me / cashforjaneycat
p a y p a l . me / itsjustquin
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phantoms-lair · 12 days
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"Okay, I can see why your astrology loving self likes it here," Tim elbowed Danny.
"It's astronomy and you know it." Danny said, fake offended.
"Yeah, I will admit I'm surprised by how good the internet is here. I wasn't expecting that out of rural Kansas."
"Well, think of who they have to keep in contact with, and how far away." Danny pointed out. "Honestly, pretty sure Bruce is responsible."
"Wouldn't be surprised."
"Hey Danny!" Elle hovered over the two of them. "Let's go flying!"
"We've got a guest you know." Danny gestured at Tim with his thumb. "Be kind of a jerk move to fly off without him."
"Can't he fly?" Elle asked. "His hero name is Robin, right?"
Elle looked like she was ten, but Tim had to remind himself she was less than half a year old and often surrounded by metahumans. "No flight. All my powers are up here." he said, tapping the side of his head.
"You're psychic?" she asked.
Danny laughed and Tim rolled his eyes. "No powers, just smart." he clarified. Then he looked back at the stars. "It would be interesting to see what it would be like to have powers, but like most of the family, I'm a normal human."
"No one who can lie to Batman with a straight face is normal." Danny pointed out.
"If he wants to know what it's like to have powers, why don't you show him?" Elle asked.
"It's rude." Danny said, sticking his tongue.
"Not with consent."
"Not with permission." Danny pleaded. "You are too young for me to want to hear you use the phrase 'consent'."
"Missing something." Tim pointed out.
"Overshadowing. If I take control of you I can channel my powers through your body. But like I said, it's kind of rude."
Tim wasn't sure 'rude' was the word for stealing someone's bodily autonomy. But Elle did have a point of her own. There was a world of difference between doing something with or without consent. "Okay, how would that work?"
"How would what work?" Danny asked.
"The overshadowing thing."
"Oh, it's er," Danny was fiddling with his fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's kinda creepy."
Tim gave him a flat look. They'd covered Danny referring to himself as 'creepy' enough in Gotham that he wasn't amused.
"It's basically possession. I would seize control of your body and channel my powers through it. Normally the person getting possessed is sort of put to sleep and only has vague impressions of the time they were controlled. But a person with strong enough willpower can resist and be aware." Unsaid was that pretty much everyone in Tim's family would be able to hold onto their awareness.
"Could you cede control once you had it though? Possess someone but not control them?"
"I honestly don't know. I've never tried it." Danny admitted.
"Then lets try it," Tim suggested.
Danny looked at him like he was crazy. "Why?"
"Two reason. The first is it will see how well I do if a ghost tries controlling me. The second," he shrugged, "I'm not a metahuman and will probably never be one. And I'm okay with that, but it's been interesting to see what it feels like to be one, you know?"
Danny pursed his lips and Tim wondered if he was crossing a line. Being a metahuman hadn't exactly been a fun experience for Danny, after all.
"Okay." Danny said reluctantly. "But you don't get to blame me if you don't like it."
Or he could just still have issues with the thought of people rejecting him for his powers. "Fair. We've got Elle as our witness that this was my idea. I could talk to the Kents beforehand too-"
"Not necessary!" Danny shuddered.
Tim felt his heart droop. Deep down Danny still didn't trust they'd keep caring for him. He hated what the Fentons had done to Danny's self esteem. "You don't have to if you don't want to." Tim softly reminded him. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable either. But I trust you, you know?"
Danny swallowed heavily. "Okay. If you're sure."
It felt cold, at first, like a chill up his spine. Then Tim felt his mouth move and vocal chords activate independently of of him. "Okay, so this is overshadowing." His own voice said. "So I guess, try to do something and I'll try not to stop it?"
"Do you have to talk out loud?" Tim asked. "It's going to look like I'm talking to myself."
"I guess that works. And yes, no psychic connection for this. Sorry."
"Weird," Elle observed. "I've seen some recordings of overshadowing and usually the person has the eyes glowing the ghosts color when control, but the glow fades when they resist control. But the eye glow didn't go away when Tim spoke."
"He's not resisting me, I'm letting him have control, it's different." Danny insisted.
"Maybe I should start resisting you. Just to see if I can." Tim suggested.
Elle giggled. It really did look funny with him talking to himself.
"Okay," Danny raised Tim's arm and clenched his fist. "You try to open your hand and I'll try to keep it shut."
Tim had to admit just feeling his arm move like that was mildly panic inducing. He'd managed not to be carded by Hatter but imagined this was what it felt like. He struggled to move his hand only to have it firmly stay in place. He struggled more, eventually sending his arm into erratic fits, punching himself in the face. "Owww" he moaned as
Elle doubled over in laughter.
"Healing factor should take care of it in a few minutes. Unless you want to stop now." Danny rubbed their injured nose.
"No, I mean, I think I want muscle control back, we can work on resisting stuff more later. But I want to see what having powers feels like!"
"Which one do you want to-"
"Flying!" Elle interrupted gleefully.
"I think you might have an ulterior motive." Danny said dryly. "You up for flying, Tim?"
"Yes please," Tim answered, trying to hide how excited he was to try.
He's seen others fly, several times, but it wasn't something he's ever thought he could do except on a hang glider or something.
"We're going for invisibility first." Danny warned. "Since we don't want to be seen."
If getting possessed had been a shiver up his spine, becoming invisible was like being dunked in cool water. Not frigid, but a definite chill ran across his skin as it vanished from sight. Then Tim felt gravity lose it's hold on him. Without any form of propulsion he lifted up about a foot in the air.
"We're going to start low and slow." Danny assured him. "So if anything goes wrong you aren't going to fall too far." Gently he leaned forward and glided effortlessly through the air.
"Do you think I could do this myself?" Tim asked.
"No clue, let's try!" Danny seemed to be warming up to the idea of testing with Tim's lack of a bad reaction to being overshadowed.
The floated in place and Tim tried to move their shared body. But while he could mover his limbs with ease, Danny's power couldn't be interacted with. "Doesn't look like it, sorry."
Elle looped back around. "This is low and slow is kiddy stuff." She groaned.
Danny gave her a mild glare. "You are three months old. You have no right to complain of kiddy stuff."
"If anything I can more." Elle countered. "Come on, can we at least do tag or something?" Tim shrugged. "Sure, tag sounds good."
~
"Does she normally smoke you this bad at tag?"
"No." Danny grumped.
Tim sighed. "Sorry. Having to plan out our strategies is letting her hear us. If you took full control-" "Then you wouldn't be in the game, I'd just be using you as a meat suit for no reason." Danny pointed out.
Tim thought for a moment. "Danny, can you put your shield in a bubble around us, so Elle can't hear us planning?"
"Sure, but it's going to be obvious."
"That's fine, we're just planning the planning." Tim assured. Danny raised the shield "We're planning to plan? Seems redundant."
"We're planning the things that will let us plan in plain sigh without your sister knowing." Tim corrected. "So our main issue here is we've got two minds that need to collaborate. Even if we split the division of labor of you powers me body, we each need to use both. You can take control of my body if an opportunity needs it, but I can't take control of your powers, so that what we need more communication for."
"Elle hasn't developed much beyond the standard, so we can keep to those. So, intangibility," Tim tapped the ring finger of his left hand twice. "If I make that motion, it means I'm asking you to use intangibility, if you do it it's warning me you're using it and I don't have to flinch away. Blinking twice will work the same for invisibility and..." Tim thought a moment more. "Tongue for flying." "Okay, I get eyes for invisibility and hands for intangibility, why tongue for flying?" Danny asked.
"Because it can't be seen. So tongue on the roof of my mouth acts as the taps or blinking, but can also be used to indicate direction in three dimensions." Tim demonstrated by holding his tongue to the roof of his mouth, then pressing it to the left side of his cheek."
Any more discussion was interrupted by Elle knocking on the shield. Danny dropped it to reveal his younger sister looking annoyed. "Are we playing or what?" Dany smirk and cracked their shared knuckles. "Round two begins now."
~
Alfred stood on the porch with the Kents while Martha rang the bell to call the children in. It had been a lovely visit catching up with them while Tim spent some time with Danny and Elle. It warmed his heart that despite moving to Smallville and possibly adding Kent to his name instead of Wayne, Danny and Tim were still very much brothers.
(One of the contingencies, if the Kents hadn't felt able to take in the boy, was for him to be officially adopted by Tim as a Drake, allowing him to still be a part of the family without feeling an unwanted connection to Master Bruce. But that plan was scrapped when Danny became publicly known during the Seige of Gotham. It was for the best, Danny truly needed more adults he trusted.)
It wasn't unexpected to see the children approach from the air. What was unexpected was there was only two of them and Master Tim seemed to be flying of his own volition. A raised eyebrow was all it took to remind the children that this wasn't an ordinary situation either.
Tim felt his shoulders hunch and his cheek flush as Danny's self-consciousness expressed itself in his body. Danny separated from him and opened his mouth, probably to apologize, but Tim wasn't going to let him. "I wanted to know what it was like to fly." he said, cutting off any apologies for his existence his brother might make.
"Indeed." Alfred said simply. "And how did that work out?"
"Quite well. I can better coordinate flying members of the team now, as well as Danny and I worked out a simple non-verbal code in order to plan around Elle while she could hear everything we said to each other. It was a productive endeavor."
"More importantly, Master Tim." Alfred's eyes crinkled into a smile. "Did you have fun?"
Tim felt himself becoming bashful now, ducking his head. "Yeah." He answered. "I did."
Good. Just as Danny needed the occasional reminder they were cared for, Tim needed the reminder that he was more than his use.
"That's something." Pa rubbed his chin. "Don't suppose you'd be willing too take me up there too. "I'd love to be able to go flying with Clark."
Danny's face turned red, and he half hid behind Tim's shoulder.
"It's okay if you're not comfortable with us for that yet." Ma said kindly. "We know you haven't know us as long as Tim."
"S'Okay." Danny muttered.
"You can take Pa and I'll take Ma. We can all go flying!" Elle cheered.
"When your brother's ready," Ma gently admonished.
"With that we must be off." Alfred apologized. "While I treasure these times, it's not fair to Miss Gordon to have to run herd on our family all evening without backup."
"Give Bruce our best." Ma patted Tim on the head while Pa and Alfred shook hands.
"I will. See you soon Danny."
"Yeah." Danny smiled at his brother. "See you soon."
It would be sooner than either of the two thought
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ghostiicarus · 4 months
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holiday writing comms open until jan 15th!
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nothngbroken · 23 days
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me looking at the mirror after trying to follow a how to give yrself curtain bangs tutorial on yt
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ghcstcd · 5 months
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Is it okay if I ask for your thoughts of Alpha like how he came to the Clergy?
1300's, the Clergy heard of strange activity in a seemingly abandoned house. Upon investigating, they found what they were hoping for. A recently summoned demon, and an unfortunately dead individual who did not survive the demon's might.
The demon introduced himself as Omega. The end, as he demonstrated upon his arrival. Despite the threat, the newly formed group worshiping the Dark Lord still tried to bargain with him.
Omega scrutinized the group with keen eyes, and proposed, 'I will serve you, if you summon the half who completes me. There is no start if you only possess the end.'
Apprehensive, the group agreed to the challenge. It was a test. They knew one mistake, a sliver of doubt, would end in their death. The odds favored Omega. If they're successful in summoning this demon, but haven't sealed it properly, it'll attack. Just as Omega did with his summoner. If they fail to summon the demon, well...
Omega watched the process intently. Eyes narrowed upon the center of the summoning circle. It was new magic to these humans. Yet he saw not one flaw. The chorus of voices rumbled like the throat of the earth. A spark flicked to life in the center of the circle. Omega's eyes widened as it grew. Another sharp spark, like electricity reaching out for the sky.
The fire consumed the circle, pressed against the barrier and reached up towards the sky. It roared with another great shove, but the voices rang out and drowned it out. The song placated the flames. It exhaled, and the flames died down. The summoning circle hissed and smoldered. In the center knelt a beast similar to Omega, obscured by clouds of smoke. It blinked, blearily searching the group of faces. 'Omega?'
'Alpha!'
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