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#and caspers death just reminds me of that again
undercoverpena · 1 year
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More Helen x Ghost pleaseeeeee
sometimes, I am merciful
Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader
Word count: 1k
AN: mentions of a wound and dressing it. fluff-ish (probably more than I’d like but it’s been a day and a half and I needed this too). Helen isn’t readers name, read Helen.Simon for more context. take pity on me, I wrote this on my phone (: but hope it’s okay, anon.
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“Helen,” he hisses through gritted teeth.
He clenched his other fist, the bones on the glove cracking under pressure. He’s trying not to stare at you—fearful you’d turn him into fucking stone.
The look on your face is still etched into his eyelids. Eyes flicking from him to his clearly bleeding hand, a mixture of relief and disappointment he’s come back with another scar you’ll obsessively try and heal.
Your grip on his hand tightens, wrenching it closer. “Keep still, Casper.”
He doesn’t hate it. The grip you have on him. Both literally and figuratively. Even if he doesn’t fully understand the ifs, buts and how’s of it all.
But he doesn’t fucking hate your new pet name. The one you’ve clearly thought about over the thirty-six hours he’s been gone.
He’s had it for all of fifteen minutes and already cannot stand it. But he refuses to ask for Boo.
Instead, he puts up with it. Letting you relish in inflicting your own choice of torture.
Because if you’re calling him a friendly ghost, it means you’re still calling him. Still talking.
He’s learnt how painful and torturous your silence is. A punishment he’s not sure he could handle on such limited sleep.
Sighing, he blinks. Purposefully blanking his face, letting his eyes soften and settle.
Then he wills your eyes to meet his.
If you were anyone else, he’d command it. But that doesn’t work on you. Not unless he says it softly, not unless shards of him are breaking off and you take pity on him.
Look at me. Please look at me.
You don’t.
The scent of antiseptic, vanilla and blackberries meets his nose, mixing with the smell of blood, dust and death he’s brought with him.
He prefers your scent. A perfume he struggles to remove from his casual clothing and his bed sheets. Not that he complains. He’d never complain.
If he had his way, the scent would be burned into his skin. It keeps him rooted and reminds him of the truth in all the lies that his brain conjures when insomnia strikes.
Helen. Look at me.
You don’t. You’re too busy using all of your focus as you dress his wound. Your delicate fingers slide the bandage around his palm, silently judging, silently tutting as you work your magic.
He knows you’re pissed—before you start muttering and tutting. You weren’t half as gentle with the needle as usual. Not even muttering an apology when you’d stabbed it a little too hard.
If it weren’t inflicted on him, he’d have egged you on. Rather liking your conniving ways. On him, not so much. Even if he can tell, you’re getting some sick satisfaction from making him wince.
But he needs your eyes.
He’s missed them.
“Sweetheart…”
It comes out stern and quiet, but it forces your chin up. Those big beautiful eyes land on him, and they feel like the sun.
At first, they’re soft, all kindness and love. In one blink, they’ve shifted. Scolding him, attempting to peel back his mask and scorch his face.
Fuck, you’re beautiful.
“A rusty knife? Really, Simon?”
“Better my hand than my neck.”
You clamp your mouth shut, hiding insults and your wicked way with words from him. The fact you do annoys him more than the coward who tried to stab him.
“There’s a choice to choose neither, you know,” you whisper, continuing to bandage his hand, focusing on the bow. “Could come back to me with just bruising and cuts. That’s a choice too.”
You tighten the final part of the bandage more purposefully, him biting back a wince as you look up at him again. The anger softens, sadness replacing it. A look he instead fucking hates, even if he’s the one who put it there.
“I’m never leavin’ you.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” you say, pushing back on the wheels of your chair for more distance, “Because if you considered it, I’d hunt you down. Hell or high water, I’d find you. And, let me make this crystal fucking clear, Simon Riley. I am both.”
He wants to lift his mask.
Show you the prize of his smile.
But he can’t risk it. Not here, not in the middle of your medical room that people barge in and out of.
It doesn’t matter how often the two of you try to steal moments; life has a way of ripping them from your grasp. But it doesn’t stop him from trying.
Instead, he grabs your leg, pulling you, pleasantly surprised you don’t fight him as you wheel between his legs. Your annoyance is painted as clear as day, his fingers releasing your leg before resting on your knee.
“Understood,” he says, drawing a soft circle against your knee. Watching you, watching him. A moment, between all the others, where it’s just the two of you. “Go eat, Helen.”
“I’m fi—“
He squeezes your knee, silencing you. Staring at you to remind you he knows you. Knows that you haven’t eaten two meals a day, never mind three. That he’s had people check on you, ask about you.
That in his own fucking way, he cares, so let him care. Let him take care of you.
You swallow as if realising this. As if the two of you are in the middle of a conversation, you’re both having with your eyes.
He wins.
The only way he knows that is from the sweet little groan you give him as he returns to drawing a circle on your knee.
“Sometimes, Simon. I really can’t stand you.”
“Feelings mutual, Helen.”
You remove your glove, placing your hand gently over his. It’s warm, gentle and yet calloused in its own way.
And he should tell you to leave.
Tell you to get food before you’re left with scraps you’ll complain to him about later. But this is nice. It’s comforting. It’s something he can’t genuinely articulate and is glad you don’t ask him to try.
And then, you hand him his glove. The one stained scarlet and still damp with his blood.
He nods.
You nod.
The two of you send the other a look which has become close to a parting kiss, without you both touching. One that will have to do until he can really kiss you later. Until he can remind every inch of your skin that he came back, that he’s alive. He’ll do so, silently promising too, until you’re chanting his name to the point he realises this isn’t a dream, but reality.
A beautiful, unexplainable reality.
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alaksandus · 6 months
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Just finished watching the Fiona and Cake by some VERY legal means, and I am reminded again and again how much I love the character of Simon Petrikov
Obviously spoilers I guess! if you haven’t watch it or even haven’t watched Adventure Time, I deeply suggest that you do.
I think the new spin-off really allows us to understand just how human he is because I know we were very familiarized with the Ice King.
It gave him a distinct flaw-fulness that I don’t think the original series was able to get across or even given the time to get across. All we were able to see was the kind natures fatherly figure who made his necessary sacrifices and the hopeless romantic whose madness drove his love away. In the main series, it seemed like all the flaws were exclusively from the crown itself and it’s madness ( of course, this is not a fault of Adventure Time, it merely needed to focus on the tragic element of Ice King and had to create an easy foil to understand the caring nature of Simon and the “cold” nature of IK)
Yet, I’m Fiona and Cat, Simon is allowed to be human, separate from being the “monster” of Ice King. And in this, we get to see his flaws. In particular, that he was an extremely selfish lover who never made the same level of sacrifice for his love and because of that in combination with the crown, his love was destined to fail ( I particularly like the parallels told in the story of Casper and Nova, that through Casper’s case for the crown, and Casper’s (Simon’s) choice to ignore Nova’s (Betty’s) solution, he is ultimately forced to lose her in someway, either by her death and him remembering her (Golb solution) or her life and him forgetting her (Ice King solution); another point I like was Simon wondering if his selfishness ultimately led him to find the crown and become the Ice King)
But within all that, Simon learns from his mistake and rather than relapse for the sake of Fiona snd Cake and lose himself to the crown, he lets himself live, just as Betty wanted.
But continuing on the idea of selfish love and it’s connection to the crown, I wonder if it was specifically this type of love that imbued itself into the mad psyche of Ice King. I have seen people talk about how the Ice King searches for princesses because he (Simon) lost his princess, so I wonder if the selfish, you should sacrifice yourself for me, expectation of that former love is the reason Ice King is so willing to kidnap the princesses themselves. Burrowed into the psyche of the crown is now the idea that there is a princess who needs no other life than a life with the wearer.
On one last note, I will prematurely clarify that I don’t think Simon was intentional in his selfishness. It is made abundantly clear that he is not and didn’t even consider to think of it. Now, I am not going to make the case that that is better. What I will say is that despite his selfishness, Betty was still willing to sacrifice herself which I think is another interesting element of her character. Throughout the previous series, she was either that mysterious princess or characterized as an insane obsessive freak who wanted someone back who wasn’t there (until digested by Golb). But here, we get to see what that obsession was before. Self-sacrificial love and devotion, even if you did not receive equal parts back (Simon still loved her very much, just not to her own extant). I think it helps to finish the painting of the love between Betty and Simon. It was messy. There was unequal distribution of love. But they loved each other, and fought for each other until it was beyond evident that they could not win. And for that, I will always love their story and their characters.
Sorry for the little actual analysis in this post. I wasn’t trying to be too critical or analytical. I just wanted to spew my mind!
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five-rivers · 1 year
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Life's Great Lie 13
AO3
Lake Eerie wasn’t a random choice.  In addition to being close enough for the GAV to make the trip, if things did go as badly as Sam thought they would, the lake provided a way to escape ground-bound pursuit, and even a temporary respite from enemies in the air. 
It wasn’t widely advertised –because Jazz’s parents didn’t have much opportunity to use it, rather than any desire to keep it secret – but the Ops Center’s carriage could be safely submerged underwater, and even had rudimentary maneuvering capability. 
If that failed… well, Lake Eerie was a thin spot.  Walker’s second incursion was proof of that.  Not to mention the vicious lake monster.  Jazz hoped that SHIELD’s lack of experience with ghosts would make finding them in the woods if they had to flee that way. 
Or, if they got really desperate, they could use the porta-portal or the bazooka.  Try their luck in the Ghost Zone. 
Jazz hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 
The (Fentonworks New and Improved!) radar pinged at about the same time the wireless connection to the GAV came online. 
“So…” said Sam, “I’ll go out, you keep an eye on things in here.”
Jazz nodded, leaning forward to peer out the window in the direction the jet was supposed to come.  So far, she couldn’t see it. 
Considering the way the ‘helicarrier’ had been cloaked, that didn’t mean anything.  She looked back down at the radar.   
“The SHIELD guys should be here first if this is accurate,” she said. 
“Great.  Be ready to take arrow boy hostage.”
“I’ve told you my name,” complained arrow boy.  “I’ve even told you my code name.  You don’t have to call me that.”
Sam snorted and looked over her shoulder on her way out.  “Whatever you say, arrow boy.”
.
“Hey,” said Tucker, without preamble, “remind me what Danny had us take again.”
Sam glanced behind him at the small crowd.  Tony Stark was a lot shorter in person than he looked on TV.  Dr. Banner – a surprisingly common face in Casper High science lessons – was frowning down at a large, screened box in his hands.  Captain America was… Well, it was kind of weird to see the guy who rescued your great-grandparents from death or worse.  She might not exist without him.  Thor was practically indescribable.  What did you even say about a guy like that?  The only woman, who must be Romanov, Black Widow, stayed by their plane, leaning against one of the door supports in a way that looked casual but was anything but.  Valerie stood slightly apart, her suit retracted for the moment, glaring at everyone.
“I think it’s fine,” said Tucker.  “All things considered.”
“All things considered,” repeated Sam. 
“A bunch of the spare portal parts.  The porta-portal.  Shields, for both humans and ghosts.  The ecto-converter.  Some other random parts I can’t remember.  Not anything we usually work with.  Jazz knew what it was.”
Tucker nodded.  “Okay, yeah.  I think I know what he wanted us to do with all of this.”
“So do I,” said Sam.
“I got kidnapped,” pointed out Tucker. 
“We didn’t kidnap you,” said Romanov. 
“You kind of did.”
“Jazz got shot,” countered Sam.
“Speaking of which, where is Barton?”
Sam pointed.  “Inside.”
“Not like him to not come out.”
“That’s because he’s still tied up,” said Sam.  “We wanted to make sure you weren’t going to come guns blazing.  Or with your giant spaceship thing.”
“Well,” said Stark, loudly, “we thought that would be kind of a bad idea with all the spies—Sorry, the spies that were spying on the spies.”
Captain America pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Do you ever stop?”
“Hey, you should be thanking me.  I just—”
“You have no idea what HYDRA is capable of.”
“Um,” said Tucker.  “Can we go in?”
“Yeah, no,” said Sam.  “We’re waiting for someone else.”
“Oh, no,” said Tucker.  “Come on, did you guys really--?”
“Yeah,” said Sam.  “We needed backup.”
“And what am I?”
“Down a staff, it looks like.”
Tucker shot a glare at Romanov.
“You’re not getting it back until I see Barton.  Speaking of equipment, boys, I don’t see anywhere to park our bus on that thing, so you’d better help unload.”
“Can you—Actually, I’m getting a lot of weird readings on this thing—”
“I’m telling you, man, it’s the ectoplasm.”
Banner frowned slightly at Tucker and looked back at his machine even as he wandered back to the jet.  “Gamma radiation makes much more sense.”
“Does it, though?” asked Tucker.  “I mean, like.  Your whole everything…  Radiation shouldn’t really do that.”
“He’s got a point there,” said Tony Stark as he hauled a set of boxes out on a hand trolley.  “The whole… Hulking out thing.  Doesn’t seem to follow conservation of matter—Have you looked into that?”
“In between running from jingoistic lunatics, sure.”
The sound of an engine made everyone turn.  The GAV rounded the corner a few minutes later, turning so sharply that it almost tipped over.  Seconds later, it narrowly missed hitting the jet and pancaking Stark and Banner and disgorged Jack and Maddie, waving guns.
.
The thing was, Sam, Tucker, and even Valerie, to some extent, were used to the Fentons’ antics.  Stark and Banner were not.  Banner, as they had just been discussing, had superpowers activated by adrenaline and an elevated heartrate.  Anger was the main trigger, but fear… Fear worked too. 
It looked like Sam would get to say ‘I told you so’ a lot earlier than she’d thought. 
.
“How often do human… teenagers… have to sleep?”
“Hm?” asked Selvig, dropping the small component he’d been handling with tweezers.  He swore and dove after it. 
“I suppose I should ask how frequently adult humans need to sleep, instead,” said Loki with a sneer and a roll of his eyes. 
“Well,” said Selvig with a chuckle, “usually we try to sleep once a day.  Eight hours is the recommended amount.  But, heh, you know, academics, we don’t really follow the rules, you know?  You know.  Right?  I mean, you’re up there in space and all… Do they have academics in space?”
“Arguably,” said Danny, “all astronauts are academics of some sort or another.  Scientists, right?  Although, the earlier ones were military, so I suppose they weren’t.  But I guess the question is more about whether or not Loki’s people have academics.  Do you have academics?”
Loki turned slightly to look at the boy incredulously.  Danny blinked back up at him.
“Don’t—” Loki cut himself off before he could say something that could be construed as an order and looked back at Selvig who was trying to lower a piece of equipment into a padded carrying case but kept missing the hole in the shaped ‘styrofoam.’  “How often do teenagers need to sleep?”
“About the same?” said Selvig vaguely.  “I think they’re supposed to get more to stay healthy, but I’ve never had children.  Unless you count my students!  Ha!”  He finally got the part into the Styrofoam hole and smiled triumphantly at Loki.  “Fits like a glove!”
Danny leaned forward to peer at the box.  Loki pushed him back. 
Loki could care less about any of his thralls staying healthy, but he needed them to at least last long enough to get his army.  To get the chitauri.  His staff could not keep them awake indefinitely.  Eventually, their endurance would wane and fail.  Or so he had been told. 
The staff, like the army, was a loaner. 
It matched with the rules of magic he was familiar with, however.  No spell was perfect or unbreakable, no matter how powerful the focus, and the realm of dreams was… strange. 
That was the only reason for his concern.  No other. 
“You could always let us sleep, if you’re so worried,” said Danny. “How often do your people need to sleep?  Asgardians, right?  Or are you an Asgardian if you’re adopted?  I mean, you and Thor look alike, but then you guys look like humans, too, and that’s not what I would have expected from aliens, overall.”
Loki rolled his eyes.  Danny was evidently one of those aggravating people who became more talkative with fatigue.  “My father sleeps once a year.”  Well.  The Odinsleep happened once a year.  And Loki was technically a Jotun, not an Asgardian.  But that hardly mattered.  Loki did not need to sleep.  He was not tired.  He had no desire to close his eyes and see—
“Is that your actual dad, or, like, your biological dad?”
Gods did not groan.
.
Jazz seriously hoped they didn’t need anything on that jet, because it didn’t look remotely salvageable after that. 
“Hey!” called Barton.  “What’s going on out there?”
Jazz was having enough trouble trying to trigger the right controls with only one hand.  She didn’t answer.  Could she--?  No, the Ops Center portal generator didn’t work that way.  She couldn’t punch the coordinates for that.  What she could do, however…
She hit the activation button, and the shield sprang into being with the Hulk on one side and everyone else on the inside, Captain America’s shield ding­-ing off the shield in a way that resonated loudly enough to hurt Jazz’s ears.  The Hulk ran into the shield at full speed and rebounded, stumbling back into the lake.  He roared, clearly furious.  Ripples spread across the water. 
… And the Lake Eerie Monster rose from the depths. 
The Hulk whirled and leapt at the new combatant.  The fight sent water splashing, huge waves breaking over the shore.  Jazz hissed, adjusting the shield to keep the water out.  How much air did they have?  Jazz couldn’t remember how much air a person needed.  It was probably enough for at least a little while. 
The fight was impressive.  Jazz could say that even after watching Danny fight so often.  It was also incredibly brutal.  There was no finesse, no form, and there didn’t need to be.  The sheer physical power of the combatants made it redundant. 
She couldn’t help but think that Danny could beat both of them. 
The lake flared with light, visible even through the green-tinted ectoplasmic shield.  When the light cleared, both the ghost and the surprisingly ghost-like man were gone.
“Hey!  Whoa, whoa, whoa!  What was that?  Where’d Banner go?” shouted Iron Man, audible through the external PA system, which meant that he really had to be shouting, because that thing sucked.
Jazz hissed through her teeth.  She hadn’t caused this situation, but she’d certainly been involved in sending one of the preeminent scientific minds of the century to the Ghost Zone.  Not as bad as killing him, sure, but there it was. 
This was a bad day.  This was a bad, bad day. 
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sailor-toni · 1 year
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The Evil Ghost Tyrant wants to Make Me His Heir? But I’m a sixteen year-old halfa!
You can also read this on A03, FF.NET, and Wattpad.
Chapter 2: Time to call for backup!
  The students at Casper High could not fathom what they had seen at lunch that day, and many were weary of their classmate. Danny on the other hand wished for death. The gazes of the school bore holes through his skin, and peeled the frays like hangnails. The teachers watched him with wide dinner plate eyes, their bodies tense like mice before a cat. This must have been a dream for Wes who ran through the halls cheering and hollering. And Paulina would not stop staring at him. He should like this, she was a very pretty lady after all but this wasn’t a stare someone gave their crush. It was the stare of an obsessive fangirl being close to her idol. Her pink I-phone was tucked under desk , probably recording him or she might have been taking photos of him for her fan twitter account. 
    This stance was broken by Dash and Kwan. The knuckleheads blocked the hallway with their steroid fueled bodies, arms crossed and faces stitched into frowns. He wanted to phase through them and fly home, but the two suddenly fell to their knees thanking him for saving them, their parents, their friends, and the school. Kwan had paper ready for an autograph from Danny. This started the title wave of fans chasing him. 
    Sam and Tucker tried their best, but their brave efforts were in vain. Tucker was the first to slip under the trodding feet of his classmates, his voice was muffled by the scream of fangirls and fanboys alike. Sam was next, she sacrificed herself for the greater good. Her strong arms held the classroom door shut. The old wood cracked and rumbled against the horde of hormones behind it. Danny saluted her before he took off to the skies. The roar of a crashing door faded into the Amity Park skyline. 
    He sailed through the air, letting the wind roll off his body with the day’s stress. Up ahead he could see the large Fenton Works sign in its gaudy neon glory. Maybe today was all a dream, and as soon as he opened the door his alarm clock would scream in his ears and wake him up from this chaos. 
    Behind his front door, Danny saw his parents waiting for him in their living room. His mother’s eyes were red and his father looked like he was about to strangle someone. It was a very cruel way reality chose to remind him that everything was in fact real. 
“Danny, sit down. We heard what happened at school today,” His Mother’s tone was a death sentence. 
“Wait, I can explain everything,” Danny said. 
“Can you explain why you’ve been lying to us for more than two years?” His father asked in that tone that parents do when it's not really a question. But, Danny could explain why he hid everything. Why he lied, and snuck out of the house, and threw himself in danger every day, but the reasoning would hurt his folks even more. So, Danny chose silence. 
“Danny I don’t understand why you would hide this from us? We didn’t know that was you in the at night flying to who knows where! We could’ve killed you. Our weapons aren’t toys, they can do actual harm Danny,” Maddie said. 
“I know. I’ve been using them to hunt ghost,” 
“I told you It wasn’t me losing them!” Jack said. Danny didn’t see the look Mother shot his Father. But whatever it was, his father chose silence. 
“If we knew you were interested in ghost hunting we would’ve helped you,” Maddie said. 
“I wasn’t really interested until the accident and then I -” 
“What accident?” 
“Oh um two years ago I was messing around with the portal and iImighthaveturneditonewhileIwasstillinside,” Danny stammered.
“You WHAT?” His Father yelled. “Danny, that portal blasts enough ectoplasm to destroy a person! You should be dead!” 
“Well I’m half dead so you're half right?” 
“This is just like Vlad all over again. Son, we need to get you to a hospital pronto!” Jack began to gather items for a hospital trip. “Maddie! Where are the insurance cards?” 
“No! It has been two years and I’m fine! I mostly mastered my powers and I even stabilized my core, so it's all good.”
“Humans shouldn’t have ghost cores,” Maddie said.
“Hey can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to watch Tedtalk,” Jazz yelled from her room. 
“Jazz Fenton get down here!” Maddie yelled. 
“What’s going on?” Jazz asked, her hair and clothes were a complete mess from all night college study sessions. A sticky note that read STUDY HARDER was stuck to her forehead, and a coffee stain spread from her blue tank top to her gray sweatpants. 
“Jazz, did you know your brother was a half ghost?” 
“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh OH! Danny! Oh no Danny how could this have happened to you! Who would do such a thing to my precious baby brother!” Jazz worked up her best acting skills, which were razzie worthy. 
“Jazz you knew! You should’ve told us!” Jack yelled. 
“WHY! You were the ones stomping around the dinner table saying Oh  I’ll catch that Ghost boy and rip him apart molecule by molecule! Explain how I was supposed to tell you anything about Danny when you're making threats like that Dad,” Jazz said. 
“I never said that! but , if I did, I never meant it!” Jack said. He then leaned down to his wife and asked “Did I really say that?” 
“Honey I have to be honest I don’t remember half the things you say.” 
“And to be honest, I don’t either.”  
“Dad we are right here, we can hear you,” Jazz said. “Also! Danny, Sam just texted me saying the Ghost King is back? When did that happen? Did you fight? Are you okay?” 
“Do Sam and Tucker know? How many did you tell before you thought to tell us?”Jack said. 
“Well, to quote Jazz’s words I thought you two would kill me if I told you!” Danny said. 
“We would never kill you!” Maddie said. 
“You held a gun to my head at city hall!” 
“We didn’t know that was you! Which is why you should’ve told us!”
“Batman figured it out in a day!” 
“YOU TOLD BATMAN BEFORE YOU TOLD YOUR PARENTS!” Jack said. “Batman must think we are terrible parents!” 
“To be honest Danny didn’t tell me, I figured it out all on my own,” Jazz said. 
“You didn’t even tell your sister!?” Jack said.
“I thought she was going to tell you!” Danny said. 
“And I was, until Dad threatened to kill Danny over dinner!” Jazz said. 
“I have no memory of that.” 
    The house around them shook, but not from the family fighting. Picture frames fell from the walls and dishes flew from their cabinets. Jazz ran to the windows while Jack tackled Danny to the floor, their large metal chandelier missing the two by hair’s breath. 
“Oh, thank Dad.” Danny said. 
“Don’t thank me, I’m just doing my job. By the way, I was joking about the molecule thing.” Jack said. 
“I thought you didn’t remember that?” 
“Remember what?”
“Oh never mind.” 
“Uhhh Danny, he’s here,” Jazz pointed through the opening in the blinds. The whole family moved to the window, to see Pariah Dark standing on top of the neighboring rooftop with a pair of binoculars. The Fright Knight stood behind him in a firm stance. His metal armor sent blinding reflections right into their eyes. Pariah waved to them. 
“Oh for christ sake,” Danny rubbed his eyes. He could feel the headache grow ever larger behind his eyes. 
“What does he want?” Jazz asked. 
“He wants to adopt me or something,” 
“Ghost King or not I will not allow anyone to adopt my son while I’m still kicking! Maddie get the guns,” Jack said. 
“Wait, I have a better idea, Dad and Jazz, can you distract him?” Danny asked.
“Yes, but first explain,” Jazz said. 
“You and Dad will distract those two while Mom and I get Clockwork. By the way, Clockwork is the ghost of time and he was once married to Pariah Dark. I think Clockwork would be willing to reign him back in,” Danny said. 
“Wait, they were married? Why? That Pariah guy looks gross,” Jazz said. 
“I don’t know and I don’t want to know.” Danny said proudly. 
“Okay… we will go along with your plan but only if you tell me everything that has happened on the ghost ride to this Clockwork fella,” Maddie said. 
“It’s a deal!” 
    The Fenton world explorer parked its shiny metal carcass on the edge of Clockwork’s tower. Maddie and Danny exit the vehicle, with Danny mid speech. 
“And you remember the giant plant ghost, his name was Undergrowth and I don’t think you remember much as you and everyone else was brainwashed, but it was during that fight that I found out I had an ice coe and I almost froze to death trying to save everyone. But I managed to escape back to the Ghost Zone where I met ghost Ice Yetis who were kind enough to train me on how I could control my powers and - Mom? Mom, are you okay?”
“One second Danny, I just need a moment.” Maddie took a seat on the steps of the tower, her hands ran through her hair and pale face. “Danny.” She said, her eyes wore weariness like a coat. 
“Yes Mom?” 
“If you ever lie about anything this big again, I will rip your sorry ass from module to module. You understand?” 
“Yes Mom.”
“I took you out of this world and I can take you out, you understand?”
“Yes Mom.” 
“Good, now let’s meet this Clockwork person and get this over with. Once we get home your Father and I will discuss your punishment.” 
“I saved the world countless times you can’t-” His Mother shot him a look, and Danny made the smart choice of silence. 
“Are you guys also here to see Clockwork?” A female voice asked. 
Behind them, floating in the miasma of the Ghost Zone was a pale yellow ghost with long blonde hair that whipped around her body like a spectral trail. 
“Yes, but who are you?” Maddie said. 
“My name is Celeste, and I’m here to see my husband. Does Clocky know you’re coming?” Celeste said. 
“Danny, I thought you said he was married to the Ghost King?” Maddie said. 
“That’s what he told me. But I don’t know who this woman is. I’ve never heard him mention Celeste before,” Danny said.  
“Excuse me! He’s never mentioned me before! After everything we’ve been through!” Celeste cracked voiced cracked as she spoke. “Maybe I’ve been gone for too long.” 
    The door to the tower slammed open, sending the purple metal door flying into the void of the Ghost Zone, and Clockwork hurried out. 
“Celeste, my love! How great it is to see you again!” Clockwork yelled quickly floating over to her side. 
“Is it? Apparently you don’t tell anyone about me,” She said. 
“That is because I only tell those worthy about you. I can’t have someone trying to steal you from me,” He said. 
“You old fool, there is only room in my heart for two people. You and the sleeping giant. I could never make room for any more suitors.” 
“I do know this my dear, but is it too much if I want to keep you to myself?” 
“Oh you sly fox, you know one day he's gonna break out of that box, and you’ll have to learn how to share again.” 
“And when that day comes you will have to learn how to share me.” 
“With how busy the Observants have you I feel as though I am already sharing with you.” 
“Danny what is going on?” Maddie whispered.
“I don’t know, I think they are flirting?” Danny said. 
“I know that much, but who is this woman? Who are the Observants? Is this man reliable?”  
“The Observants were eyeball freaks who watch everything that happens in the world, and -” Danny began. 
“Danny, let me formally introduce my wife to you,” Clockwork said. Celeste had her arms wrapped around his shoulders and was kissing his quickly aging face. “This is my wife Celeste, the former Queen of the Ghost Zone and currently its only historian.” 
“Is this the boy you were telling me about last time? The one with the evil version locked up in your home?” She asked. Clockwork nodded. “Well it’s very nice to meet you young Phantom.” Danny shook her outstretched hand. 
“I didn’t know the Ghost Zone had a historian, or a queen?” Danny asked. 
“Yes, while Clocky here can see eons into the past, he is really bad at writing it down for future generations of ghosts to learn from. So, I have been going through the Ghost Zone and recording all traces of history down,” Celeste said. 
“But he said you were queen once? Why not?” Maddie asked. 
“I have no desire to rule. Do you know how hard it is to rule the afterlife? There are always new ghosts trying to steal the throne from you, and every ghost expects you to solve their issues, and if you address someone with the wrong title they get upset and try to overthrow you. Plus you have to manage what few resources the Ghost Zone actually has, and create an economy, and stop every wayward human who tries to get in, and and and! UGH! It's horrible, I only did it because Pariah was terrible at diplomacy! What is the new phrase, he saw every problem as a nail ?” She looked towards her husband for confirmation. He nodded. “He’s lucky that I loved him enough to do that for three thousands years.” 
“What happened? Did you stop loving him or something? I mean why did he get locked in the sarcophagus of forever sleep?” Danny said. 
“He went too far and tried to conquer our allies in the Far Frozen. He wouldn’ listen to reason, so Clocky and I started a tiny rebellion.” 
“So you left Pariah for Clockwork?” Clockwork and Celeste both burst out laughing at Danny’s comment. 
“Oh no, technically the three of us are still married to each other. We have been since we first met in the Ghost Zone,” Celeste said. 
“OH!” Danny said. 
“In that case can you help my son here, your husband broke out of his box and is now wreaking havoc on earth. The man is trying to adopt my son.” Maddie said. 
“Pariah’s out? Since when?” Celeste said. 
“Two days ago. I was watching him to see if he did anything,” Clockwork said. 
“So, you saw him come to my school and you did nothing?” Danny said. 
“I was too busy laughing. For a moment I thought it was a mirage in the time stream.”
“Well, can you stop him? I already have a set of parent’s and no offense I don’t need another one.” 
“Yes, we can stop him, but we will need that Fenton fishing pole.” 
“Umm…okay?” 
    A crowd had gathered outside of Fenton Works, confused at the sight before them. Jack Fenton and his daughter were engaged in a heated battle with the King of Ghost and his ever loyal Knight. The four stood around a plastic folding table, the urge to kill deep in their eyes. Jazz made the first move, quickly sliding a card from the table before slamming it upon the building piple of casualties. 
“Draw four and I change the color to blue!” Jazz said. 
“You are making your own father draw cards?” Pariah scoffed. 
“Think again bucko, for I have this in my hand!” Jack slammed down a blue draw two card onto the table. “Draw six Fright Knight!” 
“I am sorry your Highness, but I can not afford to gain anymore cards,” Fright Knight did not look his master in the eye as he lightly set down a blue draw two card. “Draw eight your Highness.” 
“Fright Knight! You betray me again! I will make you pay for this!” Pariah Dark added eight uno cards to his hand. 
“That makes twenty cards in your hand your Highness, at this rate you’ll never win Danny’s birth certificate,” Jazz mocked. 
“There must be some trick to this! You two are cheating!” Pariah said. 
“Nope, you just suck at Uno,” Jack laughed. “Jazz baby, it’s your turn again.” 
“Right.” Jazz said, laying down a blue nine card. “Uno!”
“No!” Pariah slammed his first on the table. 
“Yes! Once I put this card down, I will win. Got anything in that hand of yours that can stop me?” Jazz said. 
“I could kill you all where you stand!” Pariah yelled.
“That is called cheating your kingly-ness,” Jack said. 
“You two are the ones who have been cheating! I will just take the boy by force!” 
“But sir, the book!” Fright Knight cried. 
“DAMN THE BOOK!” The King withdrew his glowing sword and sliced the table clean through. 
    Jack and Jazz withdrew their weapons and took aim at Pariah. When a spear made of light sliced through the air and knocked the sword from Pariah’s hand. Up in the sky was a pale yellow Ghost with long blonde hair descended from the sku. 
“PARIAH DARK WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?” She screamed. 
“Your Highness I believe that is your wife,” Fright Knight said, inching closer to the Fentons. 
“Celeste Darling, the star of my night, what has brought you here?” Pariah’s voice reached a level of softness no living human had heard before, but Fright Knight knew it was a signal of the end. 
“Would you like me to list my grievances in alphabetical order or by severity?” Celeste threatened.  
“My love I did not mean to hide from you, it was going to be a surprise for both you and Clockwork.” 
“Who surprises someone with a sixteen year old child?” 
“Well you have always mentioned creating a family.” 
“Not like this! Now to save face the three of us are going to go back to castle dark and have a discussion about consent and why forced adoption is wrong.” 
“Wait, the three of us?”
“Time in,” Clockwork said, appearing behind Pariah with the Fenton ghost fishing pole in hand. The neon green fishing line was sung around Pariah’s wrist and feet, leaving him helpless. 
“Clockwork!” 
“Hello dear husband, I believe we have a few things to talk about,” Clockwork said. 
“You two can’t do this to me again!” 
“I’m sorry who attacked the Far Frozen, destroyed the biggest natural portal between the living and the dead, …” Celeste began to ramble on and on about every misdeed Pariah had done. From massive destruction and barren lands, to the minor items, like her 12th century shoes being ruined. Clockwork dragged the two of them away, waving goodbye to the Fenton family as they entered the Fenton home. 
“And I thought our family was bad,” Danny said. 
“You have no idea,” Fright Knight said. In his metal hands was the entire uno deck, “Do you mind if I borrow this?” 
“Only if you agree to go back to the Ghost Zone,” Jack said. 
“A deal made sir,” Fright Knight shook Jack’s hand, before skipping into the Fenton home. 
“Well, now that this is over, I have a test to study for. See you guys later!” Jazz took her weapon back into the home. The Study harder sticky note still on her forehead. 
“I think I have a test too! And look at the time, I better go inside to study,” Danny backed away slowly, inching towards the front door. 
“Perfect Danny, and when your done make sure to bring down your TV, cell phone, gaming console, computer, and every single item of Fenton tech that you have,” Maddie said. “Wait what now?” 
“Son, did you really think we wouldn’t ground you for lying to us for over two years? Also Sam and Tucker are not allowed at our home until they apologize for lying to us,” Jack said. 
“You know Batman wouldn’t do this to his kids,” Danny grumbled.
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The long, vivid dream I had about Barnaby the ghost owl from Billie Bust-Up
Buckle up, folks, because this is a long one.
My family and I were in a haunted mansion. It had a rule that if we touch each other three times, or if a ghost touches one of us once, we die.
Of course, this wasn't true in the actual game- Barnaby was able to touch Billie just fine- but it does remind me of the final round of Trivia Murder Party, where if a ghost player passes the living player, the ghost player comes back to life while the player they moved ahead of becomes a ghost in place of them. None of the ghosts in my dream came back to life this way, however.
Both my family members and myself fell victim to this death touch multiple times, because they kept forgetting that they weren't supposed to touch me in the haunted house, and because some ghosts here and there did it to me just to be jerks.
The only reason the death touch seemed to work on me was because I was paying close attention to it. I didn't "die" right away from it, instead I'd take a moment to realize I'd been touched, then I'd go limp and play dead until someone prompted me to move again, after which I'd become a ghost somehow.
This happened more than once, but I don't remember how I kept coming back to life in order to die again.
As a ghost, I was mostly able to explore the mansion freely since I could go through walls, floors, and ceilings, except for the ceiling on the top floor, and the floor in the basement. I remember passing through at least four fancy-looking bedrooms, along with a ballroom, a dining hall, and an upper walkway near the ceiling of the top floor that reminded me of the top floor of my old house.
There were a lot of other ghosts in the mansion besides Barnaby and I. Some were cartoony while others were more humanoid. Some were on Barnaby's side and would touch me just to be mean, as stated before. Others were more benign and left me alone.
Some even seemed like they didn't want to be there, and I remember at least one who let me know after I tried to pass through the roof that he couldn't, either. Another advised me that to get out of the mansion, I'd have to go outside the normal way, through an open door.
Somewhere near the ceiling of the top floor I met a round, white, puffy ghost who was glowing like a lantern and floating very slowly. When I got close to it to tell it how cute it was, it backed away, like a fish in a fish tank would if you leaned your face in close to it. I felt bad and apologized for scaring the puffy ghost.
Alright, now we get to the good parts...
The iconic chase scene from the game happened, and I could hear the “Million Gruesome Ways to Die” song playing in the distance, and I caught a glimpse of Barnaby chasing Billie from “out of bounds”. Once I managed to catch up to them, I began following Billie while positioning myself between her and Barnaby like this...
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But if you remember how in the Casper cartoon “There’s Good Boos Tonight”, the hunter’s bullets flew right through him, that was what happened to the projectiles that Barnaby launched at Billie. My attempt to stop them was fruitless. Among them were, for some reason, giant cubes of water that slid down the hall and through me (and I will admit they actually felt kind of refreshing), and either ice cubes or snowballs or something, which also went through me and felt chilly. (This probably happened because I was disappointed that Barnaby never mentioned any cold-related deaths in his song.)
Thankfully Billie did manage to get away despite my inability to help her, though Barnaby clearly wasn’t pleased with my interference, because after Billie escaped, Barnaby did a roll call of some ghosts from the upper floors (mostly humanoid ones resembling teenage bullies), and then singled me out as “the one blue ghost” from the lower floor that we were on, and told the other ghosts to get “the PG-13 manual” (apparently a guide for what can and can’t be done in a PG-13 movie?) and do everything that the manual said inside it, to me. Whatever the heck that meant. Notably, Barnaby never raised his voice or otherwise sounded angry while saying any of this, though it didn’t make him seem any less creepy.
What actually ended up happening was that the teenage bully ghosts surrounded me in a pillar formation, kind of like this...
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(No, I don’t know why they’re taller than me even though they’re supposed to be teenagers. They just were for some reason.)
They then proceeded to poke me, pinch me, pull on me, etc. It sounds kind of stupid now that I look back on it, but at the time it was really annoying. I did manage to escape by floating all the way to the top of their pillar formation, though.
I don’t remember exactly when I got my body back, but I somehow came back to life multiple times throughout the dream, only to die again from being touched by a ghost or by my family members. The same happened to said family members, too, though their reactions were more of the “oops, well, this is inconvenient” type than the “oh no!” type.
At one point after coming back to life, I found my family in a bookstore-like room on the first floor, and decided to escape with them out the front door, where a grim reaper-looking ghost was waiting to stop us.
The problem was, my grandmother was walking too slowly and fell behind, so when I went back to grab her arm (that was one touch out of the three-touches-and-you’re-dead rule, but it was an emergency so I was willing to risk it), the grim reaper ghost touched everybody who was ahead of us, then came back for me.
I fell limp on the ground and lay there until I felt the grim reaper ghost drag me back inside the house, through the dining hall, and into an empty bedroom, one that looked like it had just been moved into, unlike the others I’d seen. I remember looking at myself in the mirror, either in this bedroom or one of the others, and seeing my wispy ghost tail.
I was floating upwards through the mansion’s floors in desperation, and heard Barnaby's voice call out to me from somewhere, asking me in a mocking tone if I was floating up "to meet Peter Pan", probably because he knew that I couldn't escape through the ceiling. And when I asked him why he was keeping me there in the mansion, what he replied was downright chilling.
"Because I accept you, Colleen."
Yes, he called me by my real name. He said that he wanted me there and that he wanted to be friends, and that I'd "had a good life, right?" And then I felt him tug on me from below, pulling me down into one of the fancy bedrooms, where his wings turned into hands (kind of like his feet) and began slowly reaching towards me as he glowed rainbow colors for some reason. (Rainbows not depicted here)
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His voice sounded... different, less like his own and more like that of the Mysterious Stranger from The Adventures of Mark Twain (who talked in two voices, one low and one high, at the same time) as he said something like,
"Come play... come with me, into eternity..."
I backed up as far as I could, but that somehow made Barnaby's wings-turned-hands move faster to "catch up" with the distance I'd moved. When I floated up to the ceiling, they angled themselves upward to keep facing me. Since I couldn't get myself through the wall or ceiling, it seemed like there was no escaping from his grasp, but then in one hand he offered me a pair of "friendship tassels" he'd made for us. Yes, tassels, with pins of our faces on them that he'd made.
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This gave me an idea. I pulled on one of them, then let it go, and its rope retracted so quickly that the tassel slapped Barnaby in the face, giving me a chance to float up through the ceiling and get away.
I continued to explore the mansion and look for other ways out while evading the terrifying ghost owl, but I couldn't seem to shake him. I think I came back to life again somehow after encountering my brother and his friend in a room on one of the higher floors, but Barnaby found me and death-touched me just because he could.
After that, I tried hiding inside a TV, where a videogame with two giant robots fighting each other was going on (Billie Bust-Up is already a video game, so... a game within a game?), but Barnaby followed me in there, too.
No matter which room of the mansion I flew to, there was no losing him, but I was determined to escape. Alive or dead. The last thing I remember before waking up was trying to squeeze my way upwards through a narrow opening between a bunch of pipes, like this...
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I couldn't phase through any of the pipes, but I figured that since I was a ghost, it didn't matter if I got squished between them since I didn't have any insides to get crushed. And yet, it was still uncomfortable, slowly floating upwards through this gap that was getting narrower and narrower, wondering if I'd ever reach the top...
...and that was how the dream ended. I think the reason I had this dream was because I was having another existential crisis last night, so my subconscious mind had a lot of feelings it needed to work out because of that. It still bothers me how much better my subconscious mind is at coming up with cool stories than my conscious mind is, though.
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Like Real People Do
I will not ask you where you came from. I will not ask and neither should you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss like real people do.
Fandom: Misfits
Pairing: Nathan Young/Ghost! OC (Stella Jordan)
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: toilet humor, death mentions, ghost sex, fingering, (maybe some stuff I missed)
I threw this together over the past couple of days, mainly at midnight. @sheehalloween : Ghosts with a bit of Kinktober maybe? This was honestly kind of a laugh. I have more stuff written about this OC, but I didn’t have it ready in time to post. Let me know what you think!
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“It’s so weird I can touch you, and no one else can,” Nathan said, intertwining his fingers with her.
She squeezed his hand, “you’re the only thing I can get a proper grip on. You’re my anchor. Reminding me I’m still around. It’s so stupid. I can’t throw shit around, but I also can’t walk through walls.”
He shrugged, “this powers shit is all dumb. You just look like a person. You’re just my girlfriend, but no it’s like fuckin’ Casper in here.”
“Is your dead mum gonna turn me into a real girl for one night only?” she smiled.
“My mum’s not dead,” was all he said.
“Ah. Not Casper then,” she said and laid her head on his shoulder.
“Guess not,” he replied, “how do I even know you’re real? What if I’ve just lost it?”
“I know I’m real,” she said.
“You would say that,” he responded, “I guess it’d look weird enough if anyone catches me kissing air, and I’m not hurting anybody, so I guess it doesn’t matter if you’re real or not.”
“You could always ask your friends if they can see something like this,” she lightly pulled a piece of his hair out of place.
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea. I hear them whispering. I think they think I’ve lost it,” he frowned.
“Why shouldn’t they believe you? All the stuff with the storm. They should believe you,” she said.
“You’d think,” he said and laid back on the mattress.
She threw a leg over him and straddled him.
“Woah there, ghostie,” he responded.
She leaned over him and kissed him, placing her hands on the sides of either side of him. It was so weird how her hair tickled the sides of his face. How warm her lips felt. How his cock started to harden at the weight of her on his lap. She felt so alive. She looked so alive. To him, she didn’t look any different than any other girl he could’ve been with. And yet Stella Jordan was dead and buried, but, at the same time, Nathan also had a grave in that very cemetery. He’d died more than she had. But everybody could see him. And he had to eat and piss and shit, and she didn’t. She still breathed. She was corporeal to him, at least.
He raised his hand to her chest and grabbed her breast, momentarily forgetting his initial purpose of bringing his hand up to her.
She gasped.
“You like that?” he smirked.
She nodded, and he brought his other hand up to her other breast and squeezed. She began to rock her hips, rubbing against him. He ran his thumbs across her hardened nipples. She never wore a bra anymore. She didn’t have to when Nathan was the only one who could see her. He didn’t mind. He preferred it that way.
She moaned and continued to rub herself up against him as he became fully erect in his clothes.
“Wait,” he said, and she stopped, “this had a purpose.”
“Yeah, making me feel good,” she said and held one of his hands that were still on her breast.
He moved his hand in between her breasts to feel her racing heart. Her heart was beating, and she was breathing. Almost heavily.
“Your heart,” he said.
“What about it?” she said, impatiently beginning to rub up against him again.
“It’s beating,” he continued.
“Yeah, is yours?” She knew her heart still beat. She didn’t think about it much. She placed her hand on his chest, moving her hips against him again, “it is.”
“If your heart is beating, and you’re breathing; and you’re like… cognitively there, or whatever,” he said, “wouldn’t you technically be alive?”
She shrugged, “whatever makes you feel better… living dead girl” she wiggled her arms in his face.
He rolled his eyes and ran his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. He brought her into a deep kiss. She continued to rub herself against him.
They snogged with an intensity like never before. They hadn’t had sex with anyone since before they died, and Nathan died at least a month before Stella had. She’d spent nearly every moment with him. They’d kissed before. They’d masturbate together, but something about fucking her, knowing she had died, was very weird to Nathan, but he’d had enough evidence. She was alive to him, and that’s all that mattered. And, God, did he make her feel alive.
His tongue explored her mouth as he thrusted upward despite the layers of clothes separating them. She moaned as she rubbed against him. She pulled away from him and began to kiss his neck. He let out a soft moan.
“Fuck me. Please,” she whined in his ear. He moaned again. He pulled her shirt off. It was weird how her clothes worked. She was supposed to be a ghost, but her bra just sat in his locker. They didn’t think about it very often.
He grabbed her breasts again.
“Oh, fuck,” he said. He was worried about cumming in his pants. She pulled his shirt off. She moved off of him and laid next to him on the mattress. He pulled off her jeans and knickers. There was already a large wet spot in her panties.
He quickly pushed two fingers inside of her, and she moaned out. He curled them inside of her as his thumb found her clit. He satisfied her in the best way he knew how.
She kicked her legs about the bed, moaning and whining, being overwhelmed in the finest ways. She pushed her hips towards him as she clenched around his fingers. She moaned louder and louder as she felt more and more pleasure. She never really felt bad anymore, but she never felt bliss like this either.
She felt it building, building, building. Until she reached the peak of orgasm, the feeling of comfort filling her body. No longer feeling overwhelmed. She was struck with absolute admiration for her man.
“I need you,” she said. She sat up on the mattress, briefly pulling away from him.
She went for his fly, and her hand slipped, clipping through like a glitch, right to his cock.
He gasped, “that’s weird.” It was flesh on flesh, but also flesh on fabric. She wrapped her hand around him, and he quickly tried to shed his remaining clothes, but when he tried his hand bumped into hers. She moved her hand, and Nathan threw everything off.
He practically pounced on her, kissing her again before pushing towards her
Right before he entered her, she said, “wait!”
He sat back on his heels, “don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind… I mean if you have then you have. That’s fine, I’m not tryna say like you have to just because I’m the only person in the world that can touch you.”
She watched him stumble over his words before simply saying, “have you got a condom?”
“Oh,” he responded, “no, but I’ll go get one.” He was so focused on wanting to fuck her, he’d completely forgotten the particularly peculiar circumstances of their relationship. The lady didn’t wanna be fucked raw, so he was gonna get her a condom. He got up, about to walk across the community centre with arse, cock, and balls out to purchase condoms from the machine in the bathroom when he did indeed remember that she was a ghost.
“Hang on,” he said, “do we even need one?”
She pouted, “I don’t want t’ get ghost-pregnant.”
He didn’t question it.
“Fair enough,” he responded, and then proceeded to walk across the community centre with his arse, cock, and balls out to retrieve a pack of 3 condoms from the machine in the bathroom.
Good Nathan thought maybe the nice little walk and the condom will stop me from only lasting all of one second. He went through all the ways he was not going to fuck this up. He didn’t want to ruin their first post-death sex. Something about this just seemed important. He also didn’t want to fuck it up because he didn’t want her to go away. He didn’t know where she could go or what she could do, but he’d gotten used to the idea that she’d be around for a while.
He ran up to her with the condoms in hand. He pulled one off, opened it, and put it on.
“I want you so bad,” she said and spread her legs wide.
“Yeah?” He said, stroking himself before positioning himself at her entrance.
“Yes.”
He slowly pressed into her before thrusting in completely. She pulled him down towards her and wrapped her legs around him as they moaned.
Don’t fuck this up he said to himself Fuck she feels so good, don’t fuck this up don’t- . His thoughts quickly turned to mush. His mind blanked with nothing but thoughts of how gorgeous she was and how good she felt to him.
He recklessly thrusted into her, but she liked it. She was captivated by him. He was all she wanted, forever and ever, the end. She loved how he felt. She loved what he was doing to her. She loved all 37 seconds of it.
He didn’t even think to slow down. He was working on instinct. He had gone way too long without it. He sped up and fucked her through his orgasm. And it was a good fucking orgasm. His head felt like it was spinning for all of five seconds, and then he came back to earth.
He buried his face in her breasts as his cock started to soften inside of her.
“Shit,” he said.
She kissed him on the forehead.
He sighed and sat up. He pulled off the condom, tied it off, and set it to the side.
“I’m sorry, baby, I don’t know what happened,” he laid next to her and put his arm around her.
She snuggled into his chest, “I’m still having a good time, and besides we’ve still got two more condoms.”
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agentnico · 1 year
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We Have a Ghost (2023) Review
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The fact that Anthony Mackie manages to get taken down by an old man in this makes me question his ability in having a fighting chance as the new Captain America in the MCU. Then again, I’m questioning a lot of things about the MCU at the moment.
Plot: The discovery that their house is haunted by a ghost named Ernest makes Kevin's family a social media sensation. But when Kevin and Ernest get to the bottom of the mystery of Ernest's past, they become targets of the CIA.
Christopher Landon has proven as of recent to be very reliable when it comes to amusing horror comedies with the likes of Freaky and the Happy Death Day films with their silly quirky concepts. So Landon taking on a Casper-like ghost tale should have been a shoehorn a cheesy horror-comedy classic. However turns out this is the perfect definition of Netflix mediocrity. I mean back when Netflix only just began developing their own original content and the term ‘Netflix movie’ came about, where you’d get a straight-to-streaming movie come out which guarantees a couple of hours of entertainment yet won’t have any lingering lasting effect afterward. Literal mediocrity. Hence why the whole ‘”Netflix and Chill” term came about, since it was so easy to get distracted during Netflix movies by....other stuff, so to speak. Obviously that was a while ago and since then Netflix has managed to really improve upon its original content and partner with such creatives like Martin Scorsese, Rian Johnson and Guillermo del Toro to name a few. But then we have movies like We Have a Ghost that is that typical forgettable movie that’s destined to be lost in the endless void of the Netflix library.
For starters the movie is way too long capping over 2 hours when this should have in reality been a 90 minute feature or less. I mean it’s only based on a short story, so evidently they decided to add a lot of unnecessary sublot and baggage and its noticeable. Kind of reminds me how Warner Bros. managed to stretch out the little tiny Hobbit book into a full blown trilogy with extended editions and all. Also the movie is a genre and tonal mess. At one point it tries to be an action thriller, then a slapstick comedy and then also a deep family drama, yet it fails to do justice to any of those. The comedy never really lands, minus for the tiny cameo from Jennifer Coolidge as an eccentric medium who ends up jumping out of the window, and if you’ve ever seen Coolidge in anything before you know that her middle name is ‘eccentric’. As for the action stuff, the whole dealings with the CIA is such a tired trope that it adds no wow-factor or intrigue. And as for the family drama, Mackie is an ignorant dad so the son decides to deal with his daddy issues by treating Casper like a father. And whenever there is any chance for the movie to delve deeper into the emotional stuff, the script decides to avoid it because...well, I don’t know why. It just does. 
The only true redeeming quality of this film is David Harbour, who has to give a mostly silent and very physical performance as the ghost, being able to only show emotions through his facial expressions, and in all honestly he does great stuff with the limited material he’s given. His eyes are full of kindness and loss, and as such he’s the only main reason to see this movie, so if you like Jim Hopper of Stranger Things, you may actually find some enjoyment here. Otherwise the only purpose of We Have a Ghost is to ‘Netflix and Chill’, and I do mean in the biblical sense. Unless you don’t have a partner, and if so well then that is a completely different and upsetting matter.
Overall score: 4/10
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doodleybugg · 1 year
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i. apologize for the inactivity guys. i had a rlly bad episode recently and although im back rn i can't promise how long i'll stay JDBDHD
ANYWAYS how about we have a little update? (triggering topics such as sh, ed, etc descriptions will be in red, bold text! i'll try to keep most of the negative stuff at the bottom but no promises :/)
so i forget how long i've been gone exactly, i remember logging in some rare occasions to like and reblog a couple posts but otherwise i've been extremely M.I.A (pun very much intended) and honestly that's been a bit stressful for me.
i've had a LOT of drama in classes. yeah that's right, ya girls in uni now! and i am failing SO BAD. it's rlly hard going to school everyday, like i hate it i just wanna go back to working at a shopping mall or smth lol. but hey the map of my cities kinda set up well, being the uni is right next to a lake, and on the other side is a parking lot w mcds, circle k, chatime, etc. and next to the parking lot, like legitimately across the street, is my house. i moved back in with my mom cuz rent was getting too steep, and honestly id rather be on the streets lol
probably the biggest update ihave; i'm a did system. i got the diagnosis early december, and with a shit ton of research and help from friends who have the disorder because the doctors are no help, i'm getting comfy with the label.
if you're not sure what did (disassociative identity disorder) is, it's basically a disorder which defines the presence of two or more different persons in your mind, alike to multiple personality disorder. again, i'm not a professional, and you'd think my doctor would have given me a run down on why it meant before he diagnosed be but here's how it went:
me: hey, so i haven't looked much into the subject, but my one friend who has did was telling me about their experiences and they lined up with a lot of mine. i think i might want to go about being tested
doc: mia. you don't need to get tested, it's already in your file. we've spoken about this before?
me: ...i don't think we have?
doc:
me: so you're saying you diagnosed me with did and didn't even tell me about it?
doc: well, at least you're aware now, right?
yeah. so that's two doctors i've gone through in the past three years. i didn't throw a stressball at this one, but fuck i wanted too!!
anyways, i guess i should introduce some of my alters :)
i'm mia (she.they.fae.), the host and little, i identify with how the body looks.
enzekai (he.they.it) is the co-host and caretaker, as well as the first alter i purposefully made. kai has many sources, but his main is actually an oc of mine, cairo!
and dwelle (it.she.boo) is our resident trauma holder and nonhuman. she formed recently while i was splitting and hasn't had much time in the front. her main sources are casper from girl in pieces and cassie from skins.
i'll give everyone a better intro but i'll save that for another post!
i have gotten absolutely zero progress done in my book, the toll it takes, and i find it harder and harder to write anything but immensely sad poetry anymore. on the rare occasions i can make up some headcanons but i don't think i'll be able to write any (good) fanfics for a while now, sorry
okay, onto the bad stuff. if anything listed is triggering or unappealing, please don't read ahead: ed (anorexia), sh (cutting, self sabatoge), anxiety and depressive thoughts, suicide mentions, death mentions, and otherwise explanations of feelings like abandonment and lonliness that while, in retrospect wasn't nearly as bad as i thought so, can still be upsetting just to read.
you've been warned
recently, as mentioned above, i've just gotten out of an episode; a bad one. by gotten out of, i mean i've attached myself to select people and depend entirely on them to keep me from self harming or starving. and that's completely unfair, so i've been trying to recover. my friend @my-elysian-love is helping me immensely to eat full meals and reminding myself that i don't deserve what i think i do. i'm so eternally grateful and i can never repay any of them back <3
before my choice to try recovering though, it was getting worse. i weighed 68 pounds at 19 years old. a couple nights ago, i've cut deeper than i ever have before, and i've been stuck with this sinking feeling in my stomach that i can't quite explain. i took out all my bad feelings on people i knew and loved, and when they finally held healthy boundaries and left me to my own devices so i couldn't hurt them, i took everything out on myself. i know, real remus lupin move haha.
but that wasn't fair. and even now i still feel bad, i still hate myself for what i said and did, for how i acted and it scares me how easily people are forgiving me. because i said some messed up shit while i was splitting, and that's not an excuse. and i just keep thinking it's only a matter of time before i blow up again, and maybe i'll be worse next time. maybe people won't come back, and i can't honestly blame them because i'm fucked. and as scared as i am, i'm grateful. or maybe it's just selfish. selfish because i just hate when nobodies around for me to love, to love me back. but i'm still terrified. it's hard to change up my thinking, but i'm trying. i'm trying rlly hard and i just hope that it's enough.
i'm a couple hours clean for self harm, and yesterday i didn't technically eat a full meal like i was supposed too (my older sister got mad at me and wouldn't let me eat anything). i had multiple cookies, a fruit roll up, two cups of tea, a packet of uncooked ramen noodles, a bite of a chicken finger and also i drank water! just water! for the first time in a while.
i hate that it took me fighting with everyone i loved to the point where i didn't even need to push them away anymore, they went willingly, and having multiple panic attacks in public restrooms to finally start on the road to recovery. it is so fucking hard, it's really hard. but fuck, it's worth it to see my friends happy. to not detect worry in their eyes and to believe it when @my-elysian-love says they love me (again i'm so sorry for spamming you aaa). it's worth it to finally eat cinnamon buns again, and drink tea with real sugar, not cal free sweetener. i get a shit ton less headaches cuz i don't constantly need to count cals anymore, and i haven't passed out of dehydration in 2 whole days. ik people without eds are probably like "wtf is this bitch on about?" and that's what i'm talking about. recovery is never the same as sobriety, but it's the next best thing. and i might still struggle with my body or cover up with baggy clothes sometimes but at least i'm alive to do so. cuz a while ago i was too close to death.
i attempted to kill myself again. this time by starving and eating a buncha pills. i'm lucky cuz it didn't work, and i'm still alive. i can only think of what would've happened if it didn't work. if the last. thing i did was tell someone i loved and cared about that i didn't care if they were dead. that the last thing i did was get mad at them for feeling for someone else the same way i felt for them. yk, bpd moments ✨. but i'm glad i lived to apologize and now i'm trying to recover. and ig that's all the updates i have rn
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trans-xianxian · 3 years
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I think caspers death is especially hard because like... of course I love all of my pets equally and losing any of them would be incredibly hard like none of them dying would be any better or any worse than another one of them dying but. every once and awhile there's just an animal that you get to have a very special connection with not because they are any better or you love them any more than any other of your pets.. its just that you were blessed to have something very special and rare with them, and that's how it was with casper. now that she's gone it's like there's a big hole in my chest
rats are so unique in the way that it's almost like they're designed to break your heart.... they are so kind and loving and intelligent and they all have their own wonderful and individual personalities and you form such real and close bonds with them like they really do love you so much and make you part of their little families and they take care of you or try their best to in a way I've never encountered with any other animal but the nature of their being is that you are just given such little time with them... in the best of health they only live for about 3 years and even that is rare because they just have So many health problems that have no or very expensive and risky treatments
I've had rats since I was like seven and a few years ago I literally had to take a break from having them because it just hurts my heart too much. they are so so special and such a blessing to have in your life but you are always just given such little time... they just break your heart over and over again because they leave too soon and most of the time you also have to watch them suffer at the end of their life and you're not even able to really do anything about it
I don't know it's just like.. it's always so hard when you can tell your pet is hurting in their final days no matter what but it's especially hard when you have such a special connection with them.... I feel like I could feel caspers hurting deep in my chest
#and theres another rlly hard layer to it of... casper was really similar in both appearance and personality to another rat I had#who I slso had a very special connection with and who I had to watch suffer so so much before she passed away#she was the first rat I lost after taking a break from them for awhile and it was very very hard for me#and caspers death just reminds me of that again#I've lost THREE pets in the last year n its the first year that I'm completely on my own... I have to dig all of the small graves by myself#thats not really one of the adulthood things you're taught about.... neither the emotional or practical aspect of it#and all three times I've been completely alone at home like my best friend hasn't been here to help me#idk its just hard having to be a Grown Up tm and also lose pets#and its just like.... I want my dad#its the most primal and natural response to pain..... I am hurting and I just want my dad#n the last two pets I lost didn't. visibly suffer like they just died out of nowhere and I found them later#which is traumatizing and painful in its own way#but casper literally died gasping for breath in my hands#and that is. a very unique kind of hurt#I sat there just hoping that I would feel her breath or her heartbeat again#anyway I am so sorry for ranting about this I know its not a fun topic or rlly what any of you signed up for#but thank you for bearing with me and sending me such kind words I really do appreciate it so much :(#ghost posts#text#not mdzs#animal death#and I guess uhm#pet death#too just because this post gets very specific and.. detailed abt that in particular
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redrobin-detective · 3 years
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The late Daniel Fenton
It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.
He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.
“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.
“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”
“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”
“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”
“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”
“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”
“Sir?” Madison said.
“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”
“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.
“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.
“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.
“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.
“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.
“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”
Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.
“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.
“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”
No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.
“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”
“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.
“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”
“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”
So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.
“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”
“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”
“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.
“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”
“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”
“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”
“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”
For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.
The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.
“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.
“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”
“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”
“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.
“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.
“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”
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xbarrjallenx · 4 years
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Game Night
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Pairing: Hargreeves!Siblings x Gender-Neutral!Sibling!Reader
Summary: The Hargreeves siblings bonded with each other through their game night, a moment when peace and quiet weren’t welcome in their house.
Requested: Yes / No
Word count: 1.413
Posted: 14.08.2020
Warning(s): Siblings banter, swearing
Song inspiration: - 
A/N: Hello, guys! It has been a while since I last posted something and I am truly sorry, but I was in a really bad place for a very long time. Gladly, The Umbrella Academy season 2 came out recently and it gave me some inspirations to continue my writing. It’s my first TUA imagine, so comments and feedbacks are highly appreciated. Also, English is not my first language and my writing is very rusty and inexperient. - G. x
Take note: Ben is alive.
Links: Masterlist | Song inspirations | Support My Writing
“UNO!” Klaus excitedly announced as he threw his next-to-last UNO card on the wooden centre table, only one card remaining on his left hand. You, together with your other six siblings, shot him a sharp death glare, miffed and tired of him and his actions.
It was the Hargreeves siblings’ game night and the game was either UNO or Monopoly. Everyone happily chose the former, outnumbering the latter, to avoid another huge family mess - Monopoly ruined your relationship with each other many times and the last game turned out so badly that Allison and Diego almost killed Five for bankrupting them.
“What do you mean UNO again?” Diego frustratingly asked his brother, grip tightening around the massive deck of cards in his hand. He got a huge chain of Draw Twos and Wild Draw Fours in the previous turn, needing to draw eighteen cards in total for the stacking penalty. 
Klaus nonchalantly laughed, grabbing another bottle of beer from the table. “It’s just a game. Chill out, Diego!” 
Ben took a stinging and deep sigh, frowning as he faced Klaus once again. “Yes, it is just a game, but we have been playing for more than an hour now and neither of us has won, except for you.”
“Sore losers!” The defending champion playfully remarked, enjoying his siblings’ disputes while admiring his new bottle of beer.
“Shut the fuck up!” You all shouted in unison while you threw every cushion towards Klaus’ direction. 
Klaus kept on laughing, neatly hiding his precious card under a cushion as he grabbed the bottle opener. “I am loving this moment so much!”
You rolled your eyes and took a sip of beer. “I swear, Klaus! If you’re using your powers again to win this game, you’re dead.” 
“I bet he is!” Luther commented and the rest of the siblings agreed to his statement, Ben and Vanya shaking their heads in disbelief. 
Klaus nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “It’s not my fault if I am extremely talented.” 
“Yeah, Cheater, your Caspers should be banned from this house.” Diego muttered, eyes now focused on his deck. 
“Klaus, you are no fun!” Ben pointed out, remembering him the rules of not using your powers during game night soon after.
Five obnoxiously cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “Are we done crying? You are interrupting my turn!”  
“Bitchy!” Allison and Vanya declared, both of them giving him a go on playing his card.
“Thank you, sisters!” Five sarcastically replied, throwing a Wild Card after taking a huge bite out of his peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. “Yellow!” 
“We are technically against Klaus right now, Five.” Ben rolled his eyes as he had to fish a card.
“Well, actually, thank you, Five!” Vanya proudly smiled, enthusiastically dropping her second last card on the table. “UNO!” 
The champion’s eyes suddenly grew wide, alarmed that he might lose this turn, and Vanya gave him a toothy smile as you and your siblings noisily cheered for her. 
“Luther, please have a reverse card!” You hoped as you played your yellow card. 
“Boring deck, sorry!” Luther sincerely apologised as he dropped a normal yellow card, passing the turn to Diego.
Diego attentively observed his cards and he exasperatedly looked at all of you. “All of these cards, but no fucking yellow. Five, you son of a bitch, where did you learn how to shuffle cards? You’re so bad at it!” 
“Maybe the Game Gods just hate you so much, Diego!” Five counter-attacked and loud chuckles flew across the room. 
“He’s just a kid, Diego,” You playfully pointed out, earning a round of laughter from your siblings. “cut him some slack.” 
“Oh, fucking shut up, (Y/N)!” Five fiercely responded and you laughed louder than the usual, realising how much of a crier the Hargreeves siblings were. 
“Fish a card, loser!” Allison demandingly obligated Diego and he grumbled in response, reporting that he has almost lost his patience for the shitty game that you were playing.
“Please don’t let Klaus win, Allison.” Ben sweetly pleaded, his sweet puppy dog eyes showing.
“Sis, I am about to win,” Vanya reminded her, happily shaking her last UNO card. “please skip Klaus.”
Allison guiltily looked at her cards and silently mumbled an apology, playing a normal yellow card and letting Klaus proceed on his turn. Everyone around the table groaned and hoped that he wasn’t holding a yellow or a same-numbered card.
“Yeah, hate me all you want,” Klaus proudly sang after drinking his beer bottom up, throwing his last card soon after. “but I still fucking won.” 
Complaints and insults flew across the room while the winner celebrated and gave high fives on different empty spots behind him. 
“Fuck you and your ghosts, Cheater!” Ben playfully exclaimed, grip still tight on his cards. 
“You would be my ghost bitch, if (Y/N) didn’t save you that night, idiot!” Klaus reminded him, making Ben sigh exasperatedly. You were shocked that Klaus brought the incident up once again, but before you could comment on it, Diego has already spoken up.
“I am so done with these stupid games.” He messily threw his cards on the table. “Can we abolish game night, please? All of us are, now, adults. Well, most of us.”
“Just because the Game Gods are against you, you want to abolish Hargreeves siblings’ game night? That’s unfair, bro! Besides, it’s the only time we don’t stress about our adulthood.” It was impossible that Diego hadn’t got a possible move earlier so you checked his cards properly and you judgingly looked at him. “For fucking real, dumbass? I refuse to believe this.” 
The siblings started shutting their mouths up and they paid you their whole attention, eyes filled with curiosity. “What?” 
You grabbed a special card from Diego’s deck and raised it in the air. “Diego had the Swap Hand Card and never played it!”
Diego furrowed his eyebrows, not fully understanding what you meant. “The what?” 
“Swap Hand Card.” You repeated. “It meant that you could fucking swap cards to anyone you wanted.” 
“What the hell?” He was still confused, but frustration quickly wrapped his face as soon as he processed the new information. “I thought it was just a Jolly card and I had it in all of the previous games.” 
The room was soonly filled with laughter and insults towards your idiot brother. 
“For fuck’s sake, Diego!” Luther shook his head in disappointment as he loudly laughed, relishing how the Kraken immediately lost his cool.
“We painfully watched Klaus win all the damn time when you had the chance to win big time.” Five smartly observed. “Good job, bro!” 
Diego was vexed and the jokes that you and your siblings were throwing at him surely didn’t help on calming himself down. “Fuck you, all of you!” He grabbed the whole deck of UNO cards and violently tossed it across the living room, messily scattering it everywhere. 
“Classic, Diego!” Allison slowly clapped, mocking her sibling even more.
“Cool move, dimwit!” Klaus joined his sister in and whistled, exaggeratedly clapping afterwards.
Diego flashed his middle fingers and started heading out of the living room, leaving you and your siblings in shambles.
“At least, pick up the cards, asshole!” Five fiercely shouted.
“Leave me alone, kid!” Diego shouted back and Five was about to teleport towards Diego to fight him, but Luther and Vanya grabbed his elbows to stop him. 
“Don’t, you might get hurt big time,” Vanya looked at her brother and flashed a playful smirk. “kid.” 
Five groaned and everyone just laughed tumultuously. “I am the oldest one here, stop calling me a kid.”
“You’re thirteen, fly down, child!” You joked, poking the bear even more with your invisible stick.
Five shook his body to take Luther and Vanya’s hands off of him and showed his middle fingers to flip you off.
“Classy, huh?” You watched him chug his black coffee down, aggressively finishing his favourite sandwich subsequently.
“Well, that was fun!” Ben admitted with a huge smile on his face and Vanya softly smiled back at him to agree on his truthful statement.
Game night was fun, huh? Well, it was, but you were glad it happened only once every two weeks or else the Hargreeves’ residence would not find its peace and quiet ever again.
“You all are so hilarious, guys. My ghosts are having so much fun watching you!” Klaus approached as soon as every sibling has calmed down. “Another round?” 
“Fuck off, Klaus!” 
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jeonronwoo · 4 years
Text
The Reaper → Chwe Hansol
anonymous asked: hii!! can i request 33 and 53 with vernon or joshua? i love your writing 💕💕
Prompts:
33. “You’re my batman.”
53. “This shit reminds me of Casper the ghost.”
Requested.
Word Count: 2540
Warnings: Supernatural AU, mentions of death.
Genre: Angst.
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He told you. He fucking told you it was a bad idea to think you can explore the crime scene of one of your schoolmate’s death. But you couldn’t help it, you were scared that the murder may kill one of your friends. You wanted him dead.
“We could’ve at least let Mingyu tag with us, he has super strength and he would’ve been a big support!” Hansol whined.
“Hansol, if you don’t want to ruin your pretty face, keep your mouth shut!” You deadpanned, Hansol rolled his eyes as he held the torch tightly.
You were a psychometric, you could see anything you wanted by just touching a person or a part of them. Like how you touch Hansol if you wanted to know if he was lying to you or not. You were rare, your species were almost extincted.
As for the others, Seungcheol was a werewolf, the alpha. While Jun, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Seokmin, Mingyu, Minghao, and Chan are betas.
As for Jeonghan, he was a seer, he could see the future and almost all of his visions were correct. Joshua could control the four elements, fire, water, air and earth.
Hansol was a wizard, Jihoon was a hybrid, half-werewolf and half-vampire, and Seungkwan had the power to control electricity.
You walked into the crime scene and stared at the blood that haven’t even dried, you took in your surroundings and closed your eyes as you touched the blood, and a wave of energy hit your body.
You saw your schoolmate, Mark, as he was walking in the streets looking like he was going home, you were watching from his point of view, then you felt as if you were scared, and Mark turned around feeling like he was being followed. It was normal for two minutes or so, until you let out a gasp as you saw Mark being grabbed and stabbed to death.
You felt all his pain and his emotions, so you closed your eyes tightly as the pain of being stabbed felt as if you were being stabbed instead. Hansol quickly wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your arms assuring you that you were okay and it was all just a memory.
Mark was bleeding, you watched as he tried to reach out for the killer trying to have some of his DNA so they could catch him, but the killer only pushed his hands away, he bent down and you saw he was wearing a mask, his eyes were black and cold, you could see him smirking before he got out his axe and hit Mark with it.
You opened your eyes gasping, falling into Hansol’s arms, it was awful, really you felt sorry Mark had to die in this brutal way. You looked up at Hansol, your eyes lost.
“It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here, I will never let anyone hurt you.” Hansol said and you hugged him tightly and said.
“The killer.. He was masked, I saw his eyes, felt his aura, I don’t think he’s not human.. We’ve to tell Seungcheol and the rest of the pack about it.”
***
You sat in front of Seungcheol your eyes avoiding his burning gaze on you, you know he was angry that you went against his orders, he was just trying to keep you safe. You took all the blame, because it was the truth, you were the one to pester Hansol to come with you.
“I told you not to go there for a reason you know.” Seungcheol said as he eyed you, you looked at your leader and sighed in defeat.
“I know, and I’m sorry of disobeying your orders, but I was scared, I wanted to make sure no one would get hurt.” You replied and Seungcheol smiled slightly.
“It’s okay, I understand the feeling. Anyways, you told me you saw his face?” Seungcheol asked.
“Not quite, just saw his eyes, and he was holding an axe, Mark failed to get any of his DNA, it wouldn’t have helped anyway, but whatever. I know for sure that he isn’t human.. Seungcheol, I think he might be the Reaper that Jeonghan warned us about.” You said.
Seungcheol looked at you shocked, he knew what Jeonghan said, but Jeonghan was a seer, the visions could be wrong, and he didn’t want to risk it, he knew how the pack would go crazy upon hearing the news, so he made you and Jeonghan swear not to tell a soul.
“Do you think we should keep this away from them? At least if we tell them, they’d keep their eyes open.” You said and Seungcheol sighed, he knew you were right.
“I guess.” He answered, as you both stood up and walked out of the room.
Everyone was sitting impatiently wanting to know what you saw, some were scared, some were curious, and some were waiting for the signal to attack the killer. As soon as they saw you and Seungcheol leave the room, they all stood up.
“So?” Jihoon was the first to speak, Hansol walked over to you taking you in his arms.
“Jeonghan, please, come here.” Seungcheol said calmly as Jeonghan looked at him curiously. “Tell them about your vision, I’m afraid you were right all along.”
Jeonghan’s eyes widened, as he looked at your for confirmation causing you to nod your head, he took in a shaky breath as he begin to talk.
“A month before Mark was killed, I saw something strange, I didn’t think it was real until I told Seungcheol.. But, I saw the Reaper.” Jeonghan said.
It was an understatement when the gasps were heard through the house. There were fear their eyes, it felt like their worst nightmare became true, because if they’re not wrong, the Reaper is coming for them all.
“But I-I thought it was only a legend..” Seokmin whispered.
“Clearly the legend is true, and if I’m correct, Jeonghan saw Mark being killed, am I right?” Seungcheol said and Jeonghan nodded feeling guilty.
You rubbed his arm because he wasn’t fast enough to save him, he even went against Seungcheol’s orders to save him, but again he was too late.
“Jeonghan, you must’ve gotten a glimpse of who is next.. Tell us.” Joshua said as Jeonghan looked at him shaking slightly and answered.
“He is coming for Y/N.”
“What?! No! No way he is going to kill her, I won’t let him! Even if I have to sacrifice my fucking life in order to save her!” Hansol said going crazy, you held his face and shushed him.
“Hey Hansol, hey, it’s okay, I will be okay, I promise.” You said managing to calm him down after he almost had anxiety attack.
He looked at you unsure but kept his mouth shut holding into you tightly, you looked at Jeonghan who looked sincerely worried, you then made eye contact with Seungcheol, already knowing the fate of the pack in your hands.
***
It was time.
You were standing in the place where the Reaper was coming to attack you. You persuaded Seungcheol to let you deal with it yourself, he refused at first, but once Jeonghan assured him that it can change the fate of the whole pack he had no choice but to agree.
Hansol on the other hand refused to leave your side and stood next to you. The weather was colder than normal, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fact that all your lives were on the line, or because it really was cold.
“This shit reminds me of Casper the ghost.”
Hansol’s voice cut through the silence, you chuckled a little as Mingyu answered him from hiding behind the bushes.
“Except it’s a crazy killer running after all of us.” Mingyu said.
“We will beat his ass, I’m sure of it.” Jun said confidently, “I can’t wait to get my hands on this bastard. Don’t worry Y/N/N.”
Jun finished causing Seungcheol to growl at him, he didn’t like where the was going, he was risking all of their lives, but it had to be done. They had to protect the town.
“Don’t boast Jun, he could kill all of us in the blink of an eye. I want you to be careful, all of you.” Seungcheol said.
You shivered lightly, suddenly the air felt colder, and it was dead silent. You knew what was happening, you couldn’t help but clutch onto Hansol’s arm.
“He is here.” You heard Jeonghan whisper in fear.
You turned around and let out a gasp as you saw the masked figure with axe standing a few feet away from you.
“You really have a death wish, don’t you? Coming here like the brave girl you are. I’m impressed.” The Reaper said.
“It’s not like you wouldn’t have come to me anyway.” You answered steadily.
The Reaper smirked under his mask, as his eyes turned to Hansol who was growling at him. The Reaper disappeared in the thin air and you gasped already knowing where this was going.
“Seungcheol! Get out of here!” You screamed.
Then you heard a scream coming from behind the bushes, you were about to run towards the sound, but then the Reaper appeared as he held Jeonghan by the neck. By now, everyone came out from their hiding spot as they surrounded the Reaper.
He smirked watching all of you, and he kicked Jeonghan in the leg making him fall to his knees, the Reaper was about to kill him, but a ball if fire hit him, causing him to fly away from you.
“Get away from my family.”
You looked up and saw Joshua whose eyes were completely white, Seungcheol howled and it was the sign to make every werewolf attack the Reaper.
You helped Jeonghan up, you both hated feeling helpless, although you were both unique, but had no special powers. So, you both trained to defend yourself. You were good with using swords and knives, while Jeonghan was good with bow and arrows.
You saw the Reaper stand up and glared dangerously at all of you, he raised his arms and his followers appeared from underground. So, you grabbed your soward, and was ready to attack.
A hooded figure came to attack you, but you sliced it with your sword, Jeonghan was shooting arrows rapidly at the figures.
Your eyes searched for the Reaper, and saw him fighting with Seungcheol, your eyes wandered around the field and your heart almost broke at the sight in front of you.
Every werewolf was being attacked by almost two hooded figures at a time, but they helped each other. Hansol was shooting spells at anyone who dared to hurt any of his brothers, with Joshua standing next to him using the nature to his advantage. Jihoon and Seungkwan were helping the other werewolves using their powers.
“Y/N! Watch out!”
You heard Hansol scream, you turned around and saw the Reaper attacking you with his axe, you held your sword in front of you blocking his hit. You started fighting him for quite sometime before he grabbed your arm and teleported you with him.
You were in the sky, and was falling down, your sword fell from your hand due to the surprise. The Reaper was ready to kill you, Joshua saw this and made a hurricane attack the Reaper.
You were about to hit the ground, but the grass saved you, it was long and it was shaped in the shape of a bed, you looked at Joshua thankful.
“I have an idea! But I’m not sure if it will work or not!” Hansol screamed.
“It will be better than wasting our energy!” Wonwoo yelled as he killed two of the hooded figures.
Hansol looked at the ground and took a deep breath, he ordered Joshua to make a circle of fire around him, Hansol started mumbling a bunch of words, and you immediately knew what he was up to.
He was going to use black magic to save all of you.
“Seungcheol! He is going to sacrifice himself! We have to do something!” You yelled as you tried to get into the fire.
“Put out the fire! Now!” Seungcheol ordered Joshua.
“It’s too late.” Jeonghan whispered.
From inside the fire Hansol was met with the hundreds of ugly witches whom was ordered by him to save everyone. He smiled as he felt himself slowly losing consciousness.
The witches appeared from the fire as they attacked everyone but you and the rest of the pack. Almost all of the army of reapers were killed, and the Reaper saw this and screamed. He disappeared and then appeared from behind you.
He was about to kill you, but Hansol saw this, and with the last bit of energy that was left in him, he raised his hand and mumbled a spell that set the Reaper on fire.
You turned around quickly as you saw the Reaper burning up, and he screamed before turning into black smoke. His followers also turned into black smoke, and the witches disappeared.
“Guys..” Chan said, as you both ran to Hansol who was lying on the ground not moving.
“No, please no.” You whispered as you kneeled down in front of him, “Hansol? Baby, please, open your eyes, please.” You said already crying, he opened his eyes weakly and smiled lightly.
“Hey, Y/N/N. Is everyone okay?” He asked and you nodded.
“Yeah, thanks to you, please Hansol, don’t go, we need you with us, please.” You said as you clutched into your boyfriend.
“I have too baby. So, how was I? Almost as great as batman?” Hansol asked jokingly as you laughed through your tears.
“You’re my batman.”
You said and your tears multiplied as you realise that Hansol was going to die and that was his fate. This is why Jeonghan never told you about the vision he saw before the battle, he knew how it ended.
“Hansol, I love you, please don’t leave me! I can’t live without you, I beg you.” You sobbed hugging him close to your body.
“It’s okay, I love you so much, and I’m glad I kept my promise of protecting you till my last breath.” Hansol whispered, Seungkwan kneeld next to you as he cried too.
“You’re such an asshole, because you didn’t keep your promise to me.” Seungkwan said.
“I’m sorry Kwan, but so you know, you’re the best best friend I have ever had, and I’m glad we fought next to each other.” Hansol said as the rest of the pack cried with you.
Seungcheol kneeled next to him and smiled through his tears, he couldn’t believe that his little brother was dying in front of him and he couldn’t do anything about it, Jeonghan looked at him and from his look he knew that Hansol was going to die any moment now.
“You did well, Hansol. You can rest now, it will be okay.” Seungcheol said, Hansol smiled as he turned to you.
He kissed you softly and whispered against your lips that he loved you for the last time. He felt his body going numb and darkness surrounded him.
You cried as you let out a heartbreaking scream, mourning your beloved Hansol who sacrificed himself in order for you to live.
Hope you liked it. xx
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When Nothing Moves
I can’t sleep. The sun is too bright.
I started this job cleaning out fruit slicers all night a month ago and I haven’t had a good nights sleep since. Every night filled with tossing and turning, trying to find a way to comfortably shield my eyes from the suns blinding light. Working a graveyard hours job meant I was sleeping all day and working all night. The cruddy curtains in my room were doing fuck-all for blocking out sunlight. Some of the guys at my job that were friendly enough told me to buy some blackout curtains and it will make my room completely dark, even with the sun beating down and hopefully it will help me get some good rest. after my work week ended, in my car I ordered that highest-reviewed blackout curtains I could find online and they were due to arrive at my apartment the next morning, in seven hours.
I woke the next day to a knock on my door and a shine directly into my eyes. I could have rearranged my entire room several times and still wouldn’t be able find a way to not get work on my tan while I sleep. I hurried to the door to get the package and gave a wave to the delivery driver before they made it down the stairs out of view.
Putting up the curtains was smooth, even though they were quite heavy material. My biggest fear was that they would pull the curtain rod from the wall, but that worry didn’t last long as the void that my bedroom had become was a sight for sore and tired eyes. I poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen before sitting down on my bed. Before I could take a sip, the comfort of my sheets began to sing symphonies to my tired muscles and lull me back to sleep.
I slept in, something that was unheard of even before I started my backwards sleep schedule. The clock on the bedside table read 9:23pm in red digital font, illuminating my wallet and phone that I had forgotten to plug in after last nights shift and was now most definitely dead. Still in a sleep state, I reached down to grab the charger and plug it into my phone when I heard a noise come from the other side of the bed. A tapping in a rhythmic matter, which would explain why i hadn’t noticed it sooner, but now it had gotten louder, almost annoyed at me paying it no mind and I froze leaning halfway off the bed. The jolt of fear that swarmed my body woke me up better than any instant java could ever wish. It knows that I know and its playing with me now. The tapping is getting faster and multiplies and I now that it is the sound of fingernails tapping on my wall.
(Did somebody break in am I really going to get murdered in my bed after the first night of decent sleep in my life?)
The tapping stopped suddenly, followed by a bang on the wall knocking out one of the nails holding up the curtains. My fists clenched among other things. I roll off the bed into a stance and with a sorry excuse of a warcry ready to fight whatever it was in my room to the death if need be. Nothing was there; I was sure of that. The curtains had fallen letting in the bright glow from the 7-11 across the street, revealing the only thing out of the ordinary in my room was that I needed to clean.
“Must’ve been a dream.” I said out loud, an attempt to calm myself after what I just experienced or just only imagined.
I flicked the flicked the lights on and fixed the curtains. Hammering in the nails all a little more for good measure before walking out of my room to start my day.
My apartment is in no meaning of the word interesting. I’ll state that I had, two chairs, a couch, some scattered goodwill tables of varying size, and a flatscreen TV on a small Swedish table decorated with a collection of games and movies. It wasn’t much, but I enjoyed what I had.
I prepared myself a bowl of cereal and sat on the couch to watch a show when I noticed movement down the hallway into my room. It wasn’t a natural movement in any sense and even now it is hard to explain. It was as if the world had lost focus of that specific spot in my bedroom doorway and it had grown hazy and distorted. It had the height of a man in a sheet ghost’s clothing and it was raising what I presumed to be its arms when an ad on the TV startled me back to reality. I started up a show and began eating my food quickly, doing my best to forget what might be lurking down the hall and failing as thoughts raced through my head.
(I didn’t check under the bed FUCK no one can fit under there anyways FUCK THE CLOSET FUCK it’s nothing probably just a reflection YOU HAVE NO MIRRORS IN THERE DUMBASS AND YOU CLOSED THE CURTAINS IT’S A GHOST YOU ARE BEING HAUNTED CONGRATULATIONS SHIRLEY FUCKING JACKSON WOULD WRITE A BOOK ABOUT YOU CALLED THE IDIOT’S HAUNTING IF SHE WAS STILL ALIVE)
Frustrated with myself I hopped up and marched down the hall to my room huffing and puffing with each authoritative stomp, making sure that whoever await beyond the door knew I meant the most serious of business, as well as sloshing my breakfast everywhere. As I pushed the door open fully I was rushed by what I can only describe as a shadow, knocking me on my back. spilling cereal and milk all over me and as I looked up I could see the shadow turn left at the end of the hallway into the TV room and out of my sight.
I was terrified. I tried to stand myself up while keeping my sights on where I last saw it. As I got to my knees and began to prop up, the shadow peaked around the corner with a featureless, translucent face starring at me with what I assumed was malicious intent. Frozen in fear, I could only muster up the breath to ask a single question.
“Who?”
To which, to my absolute horror it responded in a echoed whisper.
“Boo.”
And vanished.
With my pants shit and my legs like jello, it took me a moment to breath, let alone move. When Blood returned to my veins I hastily made my way to the bathroom to clean myself of spilled Golden Grahams and milk and to face the realization that what I had just witnessed was anything but normal. I spent a moment arguing with my thoughts, fighting the impulse to sleep in my car. My reflection in the bathroom mirror helped to ground me in reality, to remind me that I am fine and no harm was done. I convinced myself of a resident Casper The Friendly, albeit roughhousing ghost. I soon after left the bathroom.
I poured myself another, bigger bowl of cereal and sat down to watch anything the TV had to offer. I spent the rest of the night on the couch, eating and finding any excuse to not look down the hallway.
At around 2:51am I had had enough of wracking my brain, thinking that at any moment the shadow would reappear and attack me again, this time finishing the job. I bolted down the hallway to my bedroom, grabbed my keys and wallet and headed out my apartment to go across the street to the 7-11 for a early morning slurpee. The cashier knew me and joked about my usual purchase of sugary drinks and snacks. I gave no response, paid my $6.23 and headed out the door.
As I was crossing the street back to my apartment, I looked up to my second floor bedroom window, half hoping to see nothing, other half expecting bloody Mary herself. After what I had been through that night, I’m not sure why I even went back into that apartment. The curtain rod had been torn out of the wall again and standing in my room were two of the shadow figures latched to the windowsill, with the distinct outline of hands pushed against the glass. They watched me as I continued crossing the street; my heart was almost bursting out of my chest. I was running on fear induced auto-pilot and my destination was my apartment door. When I reached my door I finally paused and reflected on what had happened tonight.
(If they wanted me dead, They could have done it already. They were playing games with me, but why?)
I stood in front of my door for a minute before realizing I had never locked it and walked right in ready to confront whatever was inside. I flicked the kitchen light on, set my drink and bag down, and looked down the dark hallway. Spilling out of my room were dozens of shadows piling over each other, all different shapes and heights of darkness, fading in and out as if there was a draft blowing through them. I began nervously pacing in my small kitchen, checking on the hallways inhabitants every few rounds. They never moved. After a while a voice moaned from my bedroom.
“Leave”
“No.” I spat out responded in annoyance.
“Leave or...”
“Or fucking what?” I shouted with such ferocity that my neighbors definitely heard me.
“Die.”
All the blood drained from my face and immediately the shadows in the hall began screaming and moaning, shifting from side to side,all while inching towards me. My legs turned gave out from under me. trying to catch myself from falling I had turned the kitchen light off which seemed to invite the shadows to come closer. As they got closer, their faces appeared mangled and distorted consisting of holes where a human features should be. As their shadows began to overtake my motionless body, I shut my eyes so tight that it hurt. Amidst the moaning I heard one last phrase.
“Sleep again now. We’ll do the rest.”
The next thing I know, i’m laying on the doormat outside of my apartment. I didn’t care how I got there. I quickly got on my feet and down the stairs to my car. I closed my eyes as I backed out of the parking lot. I didn’t want to ever look at that window ever again.
I stayed at my friend Aiden’s place for a week. He lived alone, so he liked the company and he had the room for it, so he didn’t mind. I had told him a lie of how the landlord was spying on me when I showered and once tried to seduce me while fixing the sink. I think he believed it.
I only wanted to go back to the apartment once to get my stuff. After a week of staying with Aiden, the two of us drove to the apartment building and found that where my bedroom window used to be was blown out, stained black with burn marks. Aiden didn’t know what to say and I was beyond confused. We parked the car and I went to the landlord’s door alone and asked what had happened. He told me in detail that four days again my room had exploded from a gas leak and that I was lucky I went on vacation or else i’d be a deadman. There was nothing to be packed up that wasn’t ash. I apologized to him about his building, and said goodbye. I headed back to my friends car who was waiting with a drink for me from across the street. I got into the car without a word.
“What the fuck happened? Did he try to kill you? Tried to burn you alive cuz you weren’t turned on by his wrinkles?” Aiden said as he started the car.
“No, he doesn’t know what happened. Gas leak they think, he told me.” I said. “Let me take one last look.”
“Oh, sure. Of course.” He said, shutting the engine off. I rested my arms on the top of his car looking up to my once bedroom window now black from the fires, but somehow still intact. I thought I saw something and ran across the street to see it closer. There were two marks on the burnt windowsill; marks I could swear were burned in hands.
“You ok, Rick?” Aiden shouted from the driver’s seat.
“Yea, no, I’m good. Just getting a closer look.” I said as I ran back to the car. “Just saying goodbye is all.”
“Well alrighty, you want to grab some burgers?”
I nodded and smiled.
I never asked him if he saw the handprints.
We pulled out of the parking lot, passing my old apartment building one last time. I instinctively waved to the window that used to be my bedroom. Nothing waved back.
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Hi, everyone!
Developing characters is something I really enjoy, so I had a lot of fun putting together a twin set of MCs! This is the first of the two, Evangeline! I’d love if people would give her a read, and let me know what you think of her!
For clarification, I used the Classified Text Generator in a few spots. That way, I didn’t have to leave any information out, and those who had reached that part of the game would recognize what I was talking about regardless, but those who hadn’t wouldn’t be spoiled.
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Name: 
Hypatia Nadine Linwood, originally
Evangeline Nadine Desrosiers, currently
Usually goes by Vany
Initials spell “END,” which she finds hilariously ominous
Gender: Cisgender female
Age: 16 years old
Birth Date: October 20th
Species: Human (despite her mother’s insistence that they’re part Veela)
Blood Status: Pureblood
Sexuality: Openly homoromantic and homosexual
Alignment: Chaotic good
Ethnicity: Afro-European
Residence: A condo in Bristol
Myer Briggs Personality Type: ESTP-A, the Entrepreneur
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1st Wand: When she was eleven, Evangeline was matched with a dogwood wand that was nine inches in length, with a dragon heartstring core.
2nd Wand: In her fifth year, after she unwisely challenged Madam Rakepick and had her wand broken as a result, Evangeline found herself paired with a spruce wood wand, this one nine and two thirds inches in length with a phoenix tail feather core. While she resents Rakepick for breaking her first, Evangeline does admit to feeling like her second wand suited her better.
Animagus: Evangeline never becomes an animagus.
Miscellaneous Magical Abilities: Unlike Jacob and Enola, Evangeline is not a born legilimens. However, just like her mother, she is a Seer. (Because that is just like her mother, isn’t it? To pass on the world’s shittiest super power?) Most of the time, this ability manifests in the form of a vague sense or a murky dream. To this day, she’s only had one proper vision, and it was when she was very small.
Boggart Form: Her mother showering her with praise, and saying she was proud of the witch she’d grown to be. This tends to confuse her peers, since it seems so positive—but Evangeline knows her mother. The narcissist that she is, Mireille would never have praised her like that unless she molded Evangeline into her double. That is Evangeline’s worst fear: becoming her mother.
Riddikulus Form: Mireille more or less being turned into a cymbal-banging monkey, with a kazoo in her mouth, cymbals in her hands, and a silly hat.
Amortentia: When Evangeline smells amortentia, the scent is a combination of broom handle polish, leather, and buttered toast. If someone’s amortentia were to smell like her, it would smell like cherry lip gloss, orange pekoe tea, and, again, broom handle polish.
Patronus: A crow. Although they’re best known for supposedly being an omen of death, they’re also believed to symbolize destiny, flexibility, and mischievousness.
Patronus Memory: About a month before Evangeline turned nine, there was a night where her entire family—Aunt Felicienne, Jacob, Enola, and Casper—all let her paint their nails. They all talked and laughed the entire night, drinking cocoa and admiring their nails, and it was the first time they felt like a proper family.
Mirror of Erised: Her family not only together again, but being treated with the respect they deserve. Her brother’s bad reputation erased, the whispers about her aunt for being a squib silenced, and the ghost of their parents’ actions exorcised.
Specialized/Favorite Spells: Evangeline has an affinity for fun spells, like Colovaria and Orchideous. They may not be the most practical, but is that such a crime? Not every spell can serve a greater purpose.
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Physique: 
Athletic build, due to her involvement in Quidditch
Strong limbs and a toned figure
5′8 in heigh
Eye Color: 
Dark grey in color
Always decorated with pristine eyeliner and a light brush of mascara
Hair Color: 
Deep brown
Occasionally experiment with different hair colors using Colovaria
Naturally curly, but is often straightened
Hip length (when straightened)
Skin Tone:
Light brown
Warm undertones
Body Modifications: 
One piercing in each ear
Scarring: 
Extensive burn scars on both forearms — gained at 7 years old
Thin scar directly across the bridge of her nose — gained at 25 years old
Inventory: 
Her favorite cherry lip gloss
A bag of butterscotch candies
A hair clip or two
Her treasured leather journal.
Fashion: Though Evangeline consciously tries not to be vain, knowing it was one of her mother’s vices, she does take pride in her appearance, and enjoys looking good. When not outfitted in her school robes, she usually tries to aim for a classy, feminine sort of style. More often than not her outfits consist of trendy sweaters or turtlenecks (never t-shirts), tea length skirts, and oxford pumps. As for accessories, Evangeline is quite fond of dainty earrings and delicate silver rings, as well as pretty hair clips. The one exception to her style tastes is Erika’s sweaters: they’re over-sized, a little more traditionally masculine, and more worn out than Evangeline likes to let her clothes get. Still, she absolutely covets them.
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Hogwarts House: Slytherin, house of the cunning and ambitious. It’s garnered such a reputation for being the “mean house” that people always seem to be surprised to learn that Evangeline was placed there. But, as she’s always quick to remind them, “mean” is not a requisite for being in Slytherin. It’s just an unfortunate trend.
Ilvermorny House: Thunderbird, house of the soul, home to the adventurer.
Affiliations/Organizations: Obviously, as first a student and then an alum, Evangeline is affiliated with Hogwarts. She also joins ███ ██████ ██ ██████ out of support for Enola, and, later on, is a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
Professions: After working as a spy for the Order during the second wizarding war, Evangeline builds a career as a grief counselor for magical children.
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Class Proficiencies:
Astronomy: A
Charms: E
DADA: O
Flying: O
Herbology: P
History of Magic: A
Potions: A
Transfiguration: E
Electives: 
Divination
Muggle Studies
Both are total goof off classes, considering she’s a Seer who was raised in a muggle community
Quidditch: 
Seeker on the Slytherin team from third year onward
Played one season as a beater in her fourth year
Extra Curricular: 
Art Club
Frog Choir
Favorite Professors: 
Professor Hooch — fellow Quidditch lover
Professor Trelawney — endearingly kooky
Least Favorite Professors: 
Professor Snape ��� killjoy
Professor Sinistra — uptight
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Brother: The eldest of the Desrosiers children is Theron, who renamed himself Jacob after his parents’ death. Of his three younger siblings, he’s arguably closest to Evangeline, since she shares his charisma and occasional haughtiness. Evangeline understood, better than any of the others, how badly he wanted to restore both the Kastellanos and Desrosiers family names to their former glory. No, actually, not their former glory—a new glory, built on talent and respect, rather than on the subjugation of those considered “beneath” them. 
Other Siblings: Older than Evangeline by six minutes, Enola is the second oldest Desrosiers sibling, and easily the one Evangeline is closest to. People can dismiss the notion of twin ESP all they want, but Evangeline believes it. Different as they may be, her and Enola have always been finely attuned to each other. They can read each other easily, and always know exactly what the other needs. There isn’t a chance they could ever be as close with someone else as they are with each other. 
Evangeline also has a younger brother. Helios Kastellanos, renamed Casper by their Aunt Felicienne, is five years younger than the twins, and truth be told, Evangeline’s never had too strong of a relationship with him. It’s not like they argue, or they hate each other. They’ve just...never connected. He’s always clung to Enola, so Evangeline figures that it’s a trade off she had to make. She gets to be close with Jacob, at the cost of being close with Casper. Enola gets to be close with Casper, at the cost of being close with Jacob. It evens out.
Father: Truth be told, Evangeline remembers very little of her father, Proteus. Beyond not spending a lot of time at home, Proteus was more concerned with his male heirs than either of his daughters. Everything Evangeline knows about him, she’s learned secondhand, and even then, it’s very little. Felicienne and Jacob always waved off her questions, telling her she didn’t want to know about him, Enola remembered as little as she did, and Casper was only three when he died. Evangeline knows that he was a Death Eater, and that’s more or less it.
Mother: Now, her mother, Mireille, on the other hand...Evangeline remembers her quite vividly. Mireille was a woman who prided herself on beauty more than anything, and wanted to raise her daughters to be just the same—as long as they were never more beautiful than she was. Though she came from a family of blood purists, Mireille was the first Desrosiers to become a Death Eater, and Evangeline suspects that she got in over her head. It’s her theory that the stress drove Mireille crazy, and that was why she was so prone to paranoia and explosive bursts of anger. One of Evangeline’s most vivid memories of Mireille attempting to throw a pot of boiling water in her face when she was seven years old; Evangeline threw up her arms to defend herself, and she still bears the scars from the attack all these years later.
Love Interest: Evangeline has a big, fat, gay crush on Erika Rath, and she’s not ashamed to admit it. She’d already been attracted to her on an entirely physical level, and then Evangeline had to seek out her tutelage when the Slytherin team was short a Beater. Discovering the awkward, uncertain girl that existed beneath the gruff exterior completely sealed the deal. They bonded over their love for Quidditch, continuing to train together even when Evangeline switched back to playing Seeker, and with time, came to find that they really enjoyed each other’s company. Evangeline could make Erika laugh like no one else, and Erika felt like one of the only people Evangeline could be entirely herself with, even if that meant exposing the ugly pieces of herself as well as the polished ones. Finally, Evangeline asked Erika to the Celestial Ball, and the rest was history. It’s rather funny to see them side by side, with Erika, perpetually dressed in her jersey and scowling, towering over Evangeline, with her pressed skirts and sunny smiles.
Best Friends: One of Evangeline’s dearest friends at Hogwarts is local contraband dealer, Jae Kim. Truth be told, he was initially quite intimidated by her. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but despite Evangeline’s bubbly disposition, something about her always struck him as distinctly...eldritch. Like she was something unusual, and not entirely human. Maybe it was just the way she could flip her emotions on a dime, entirely of her own volition. Watching her be seething mad and then slap on a bright, sunny grin as she turned away, easy as flipping a switch, was unnerving. Regardless, the two bonded throughout their time spent in detention, and Enola is quite proud to boast that she’s one of the few people that can almost wrangle Jae into following the rules.
She’s also quite close with Penny Haywood and Diego Caplan, two Hufflepuffs who share Evangeline’s popularity and social skill. Evangeline likes to joke that she’s “Penny, but with edge.” Penny gets a kick out of it. Diego, on the other hand, did initially have slightly selfish reasons for befriending Evangeline—namely, his hope that she could help him get closer to Enola, who he had a crush on—but ended up genuinely bonding with her somewhere along the way. She’s his favorite dueling and dancing partner, and they trust each other more than anyone seems to realize.
Rivals: Some people might not understand how two people on the same team can be rivals, but Evangeline and Skye Parkin make it work. It’s not a mean rivalry by any means, but it’s an intense one, with both of them aiming to be the star player on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Evangeline also considers herself rivals with Emily Tyler, who reminds her uncomfortably of her mother, and Merula, who competes with her in, well, everything.
Enemies: Logically, Evangeline knows that there’s really nothing wrong with Talbott Winger. He’s an entirely decent guy, who minds his own business and keeps his head down. She has no reason to dislike him the way she does. But she just can’t help it. Maybe it’s his aloofness that rubs her the wrong way—Evangeline’s always liked to be liked, not to mention the nosy streak she possesses and she finds people that reserved and guarded frustrating. Maybe it’s the fact that she thinks he has eyes for her sister, when Enola could definitely do better. (Of course, this is only Evangeline’s perception. If she really wanted to know who had eyes for Enola, she’d have better luck looking at her best friend, Jae.) Either way, Evangeline isn’t a fan.
Dormmates: Evangeline shares a dorm with Rowan Khanna, Liz Tuttle, Skye Parkin, and her twin sister, Enola.
Pets: On the record, Evangeline has only one pet, and it’s a very old, exceptionally grumpy, melanistic Sphynx cat named Toodles. Despite being more or less a crotchety old man in cat form, Toodles is absolutely the light of Evangeline’s life, and she dotes on him like he is her actual child. The amount of money she’s dropped on Toodles is honestly kind of staggering, but Enola insists that it’s entirely necessary. Sphynx cats require a lot of careful care, and if Evangeline has her way, Toodles is only going to get the best of the best.
However, off the record, Evangeline has also grown unusually close to one Thestral in particular. She’s been sneaking into the Forbidden Forest to study them since she was in her 2nd year, and during one such excursion, she witnessed a Thestral foal being birthed. Since it provided a prime opportunity to study the life cycle of a Thestral, Evangeline focused most of her observations on that foal, which she named Melinoe, after the Greek goddess of ghosts and spirits. It took some time to build trust, but eventually, Melinoe and Evangeline were thick as thieves, and Melinoe greeted her like an excited puppy whenever she came to visit the forest. Leaving Melinoe behind is perhaps what Evangeline’s dreading most about her graduation from Hogwarts.
Closest Canon Friends: Jae Kim, Penny Haywood, Diego Caplan, Nymphadora Tonks, and Tulip Karasu.
Closest MC Friends: Outside of Enola, none yet, but looking!
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Pre-Hogwarts: Hypatia was born the third child of Proteus and Mireille Kastellanos. She spent the first eight years of her life in Greece, living on her father’s family estate, roaming the grounds with her siblings, enjoying the abundance of wealth at her fingertips. It should’ve been a charmed life...but it wasn’t. See, Proteus and Mireille were both Death Eaters, and neither were much suited for parenthood. It was a household strife with unease and contempt, and if the ruthless mental (and occasionally physical) abuse Hypatia experienced wasn’t enough, her childhood was also plagued by terrible visions. In this visions, an explosion burst in her family parlor, leaving both her parents dead on the floor.
Then, when she was eight years old, the premonition came true. Aurors raided the manor, and in the ensuing fight, both Proteus and Mireille were killed, with their two young daughters bearing witness. The children were whisked away from the home, and eventually sent to live with their maternal aunt, Felicienne Desrosiers. A squib who had fled her Pureblood-supremist family to live in England, Felicienne was hardly equipped to take on four young, magical, traumatized children, but still, she stepped up to the plate, determined not to fail them the way that their parents had.
The first thing she did? She sat them down, and helped them choose out new names. While her family name wasn’t exactly sparkly clean, it carried less of a stigma than their father’s. And thus, Hypatia Kastellanos died with her parents, and Evangeline Desrosiers was born.
From that point on, Evangeline grew up to be a rather well-adjusted girl. Or, as well-adjusted as a girl with her experiences could be. The only real point of concern was the fixation she began to develop with death; she played funeral director far more often than she ever played princess, and was prone to checking out books on embalming methods from the local library. However, she wasn’t hurting anyone or thing and showed no desire to, so Felicenne decided it wasn’t anything to worry too much about. It was simply Evangeline’s way of coping. Throughout the years, Evangeline found happiness with her new family, and despite Jacob’s disappearance, despite Felicenne’s failing health, Evangeline is determined to protect that happiness.
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2nd Wizarding War: As the war starts picking up steam, Evangeline establishes her allegiance to The Order of the Phoenix, and starts working as a spy, able to rely on her charisma and family heritage to gain the trust of dark wizards. She’s not accepted into the inner circle, not nearly, but she’s silver-tongued enough to get information from those that are. During this time, she secretly elopes with her long-term girlfriend, Erika Rath. She fights in the battle of Hogwarts, and in doing so, gains a scar directly across the bridge of her nose.
Post-War: Following the war, Evangeline finds that her ambitions have changed. Despite having wanted for years to be a mortician, she finds that the idea now lacks the appeal it did when she was young. Perhaps she’s just seen enough death. Still, she’s determined to put all of her years of research to use. She ends up finding her calling providing grief counseling to children, and, specifically, to magical children. She makes the unconventional choice to train Thestrals as a sort of therapy animal for children who have witnessed death. Her and Erika, now going public with their marriage, also adopt a set of siblings—an eight year old named Winifred, and a six year old named Josephine, the daughters of a friend of Erika’s who was, unfortunately, killed in the war. It’s difficult, considering both girls are old enough to remember and miss their parents, but Evangeline’s grief training comes in handy in helping them cope with the loss. It may take time, but eventually, they do truly feel like a family.
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There's a lot more to Evangeline than there appears to be at a glance. Upon first meeting, she seems...well, vivacious. She loves to laugh and lights up a room with her smile alone, and is playful and a little mischievous by nature. She's also quite the hopeless romantic, and ultimately wants to end up happy with someone she loves. Some may say that this makes her pathetic, but she doesn't view it that way at all. What's so wrong with wanting to be happy?
Though Evangeline may not hand out her trust too quickly or freely, she is always willing to provide a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. Her loyalty to those who find a place in her heart is admirable, especially when it comes to her family, and she would willingly fight to the death to protect those she loves. She always finds some way to show her affection, whether it's through a warm hug when one is needed or a good laugh provided when sadness seems to be taking over. She’s charismatic and enigmatic and attractive, and most everyone she meets consider her to be a delightful young woman. 
And then her smile sharpens just slightly, glinting like light on the blade of a dagger, and all of a sudden, it’s abundantly clear why she was sorted into the house of the cunning.
Now, the image Evangeline puts forth isn’t a lie. She is genuinely friendly and outgoing, and the majority of the time, everything she says and does is sincere. However, certain traits are exaggerated because she wants to present a specific image of herself—or rather, she wants certain parts of her to go unnoticed, so she emphasizes the ones she wants people to see and lets the other ones slip out of the edges of their perception. 
Beneath the girlish laughter and perfect grins is a master manipulator, always poised for battle, whether they be fought with words or fists. The sweetness, the flattery, the pretty little smiles, they coax information out conversations faster than threats ever did. A true Slytherin at her core, Evangeline has long since learned how to use her beauty and natural charisma to get what she needs out of people and accomplish her goals, which are, fortunately, mostly altruistic. Who knows what sort chaos she could wrought, if she put her mind to it?
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Total theater kid. She attended muggle primary schools prior to Hogwarts, and you can bet your bippy she jumped on every opportunity to get on stage that she was offered. Notable roles include Belle in Beauty and the Beast, the Wicked Witch of the West (ironically enough) in The Wizard of Oz, Wendy in Peter Pan, and Queen Zixi in Queen Zixi of Ix.
It’s no secret that Evangeline’s one premonition was of the raid that her parents died in. Her siblings all know, and none of them blame her. She was just a child; she didn’t understand what she was seeing. The secret is that, even if she had understood, Evangeline doesn’t think she would’ve warned anyone.
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My Wild Heart Bleeds || Morgan, Adam, Blanche, Margot, & Constance
TIMING: Current
LOCATION: UMWC Humanities Dept
PARTIES: @walker-journal, @harlowhaunted, @g0t-ri5h, @constancecunningham, @mor-beck-more-problems
SUMMARY: Constance sits in on Morgan’s lit seminar.
CONTAINS: Mild gore, death tw  
The afternoon section of Fear and Loathing: Western Literature of Speculation was crammed into a corner seminar room designed for intimate grad-level meetings half the size, baked into the side of the building through its set of large windows like a hothouse. Even with zombie strength, they wouldn’t slide up more than an inch to let in the cooling September air. Morgan smiled brightly at her students, as if enthusiasm alone could make the central air in the building work double time for them. “I really like the place you’re coming from with that point! Do you think it’s fair and accurate for me to rephrase your thought as, ‘the debate between Carmilla and Laura’s father in the dinner scene ends formally unresolved, with Carmilla having the last word, positioning her as a possible victor in the exchange, a position which then renders credibility to her reasonable points and, by extension, to her own perspective and humanity?’” Morgan nodded encouragingly at the girl, Maxine. Her rephrasing was a bit of a generous take on her thought, but not completely unfounded. 
“Uh...sure?” Maxine replied.
“Amazing! So, going off of Maxine’s thought, what possibilities open up for us when considering the figure of Carmilla? And, does recognizing the humanity behind her perspective complicate the more critical, even predatory ways of viewing her we discussed on Monday?”
The class trudged on in spite of the heat, fixated on passing through each moment that brought them closer to the end of the seminar. Around and behind them, the windows blazed with light. A fissure down the centermost panel glared like liquid metal as it spidered outward, spreading crooked fingers as far as they could reach, as if it meant to rip itself free, seemingly of its own accord.
The refulgent heat made Adam even less inclined to engage with class then was usual for someone who’d entered higher academia mainly to play football and have somewhere to stay while stabbing monsters to death after practice. Thus Adam had chosen his curriculum purely on the basis of what made it easier to flirt with his adamic advisor or what sounded vaguely tangential to his higher purpose of putting bullets in horror movie rejects. 
What was literature of speculation? Who knows? Adam, Terry, and Andros had privately speculated on Professor Beck’s ‘assets’ at various points. Thus Adam figured they’d satisfied the syllabus requirements. 
The DIE fellows were sweating in the back of the class and praying for death whenever one of their more enthusiastic classmate decided to ‘try hard’ on this Gothic Lesbian stuff. 
She just wanted to go home, but Blanche had to rush to work after class to help Mercy on some assignment - which probably meant she was going to be stuck on photography stake-out duty again. At least her car had working air conditioning. She was technically a nerd (Blanche had really done the reading), but it was too hot to really do anything comfortably - even listening to Morgan talk about Carmilla and humanity and thinking deeply. 
Blanche went rigid in her seat the second she felt the presence, her colored pen dropping down onto her notebook. She wouldn't have been overly concerned (she felt ghosts pass through campus all the time), but her conversation with Morgan after she warded up her house meant trouble or worse. As calmly as Blanche could manage, she tuned the lecture out as she sat back in her chair, quietly scanning the room with narrowed eyes as the temperature in the room plummeted. Fuck. Fuck. She swiveled around her seat, looking straight over the DIE boys and Adam’s head and straight into the ghosts’ angry eyes. 
Oh fuck. 
The color drained from her face as Blanche’s hand immediately shot into the air as she almost flew out of her seat. “Morgan-I-Have-A-Really-Important-Question!” Blanche blurted out immediately. 
Margot had all but fallen asleep in the sweltering heat of the classroom. It didn’t help that she’d been up half the night, awoken by her recurring night terror. Her mind was so tired. Still, Morgan was trying her best to be an engaging professor, to lead the class discussion in a formative direction. It was a pity Margot wasn’t interested in the class. She would Google the SparkNotes later.
Her eyes were just now closing, lulled by the dulcet tones of Morgan’s voice. It reminded her of a lullaby one of her nannies used to sing. So -- soothing… Sleepy...
Interrupted, jolted awake by the student behind her, knocking Margot’s seat as she stood up and began shouting for attention. Margot turned to give Blanche a hard stare, the girl flapping her hand back and forth. How rude.
Morgan was teasing out a comment from another student. Everyone was melting in their seats in the worst way but they were so close to stumbling upon the paradoxical existence of Carmilla’s complex humanity and the inhuman treatment she received in the narrative’s third act, the fear behind that swerve--- and then Blanche interrupted. “Uh...yes, Blanche?” This wasn’t usually her way, and neither was the two-notches-away-from-full-panic expression. “Go ahead. Unless the question is about excusing yourself because you’re not feeling well, because you can just...go, in that case.” 
Behind them, the window’s spider veins multiplied. The glass trembled in its pain, whimpering under the pressure of Constance’s grip. What had she expected when she drifted up to the campus, looking for signs of the woman? And yet, what could have prepared her for how blindingly smug she looked as she lectured her students? How shameless and bitterly ironic, to speak on humanity, on true feeling and justice? Constance barely noticed the blonde girl look at her. Her gaze was steadfast on Morgan, who sported neither a scratch nor an ounce of regret. Constance focused her energy on the glass, wispy tears running down her face. It wasn’t fair. If she didn’t get to have her life, she shouldn’t have to watch a Bachman run amok with theirs either. With a shriek, she  burst the window inward, hailing glass down on the whole class. 
Morgan ducked to cover her face gave Blanche a look that said, Oh, is that what you meant?
Adam’s eyes had flicked up when Blanche’s body language had changed, gaze scanning the room for anything new before settling back on her face. Adam was well aware that Blanche could perceive things he couldn’t. Just as Adam constantly felt waves of ice-hot inhumanity rippling off Professor Beck whenever he was in the same room as her, so too could Blanche be a sexier and less creepy version of that 6th Sense kid. 
Honestly Adam couldn’t tell if Blanche just was having a paranormal activity moment or was just nerdgasming about a vampy lesbian flick with a depressing lack of sex scenes. Blanche ticked off Miss Narcolepsy over there and for a few seconds Adam, Terry, and Andros sat up in mutual of some awesome cat-fight action. 
Then in one shitfuck moment glass was falling down and lots of people were doing the duck and panic thing. 
If this was a roomful of Hunter kids here, all Adam would have had to do was designate the extraction point at the nearest Safe Space and watch as everyone fell into a coordinated boot camp pace outta here.
Still he wasn’t sure if this was some structural thing, ghost stuff, or someone just popped some X-man powers from a Victorian sexual awakening. “Yo Harlow,” Adam said across the room as he tried to shake glass shards from his hair. “Got any Caspers?” 
Blanche had just grimaced at Margot when screams echoed from the surrounding students as glass scattered over the class. Pure driven panic flew through her, and she froze until she heard Adam yell out to her. Caspers. A much less important part of her mind screamed at talking about ghosts in public, but it was enough to check her back into reality
“Adam, she’s after Morgan!!” Blanche swore, clamping her hand over her ears as Constance let out another anguished scream. Fuck, that was disorienting. Students continued to panic, some running out the door as fast as they could as lights overheard started flickering and then exploding, the temperature dropping to a cool chill. Desks started flying towards their beloved professor, crashing against the whiteboard behind them. 
“Fuck, my bag, where’s my bag?” It had just been right next to her. 
The panicking students had punted her bag - full of salt, iron rods, an iron dagger, a gun, and wards-  away from her and she was trying to strong arm her way through to get to Morgan. Some poor student went flying as a chair was ripped from under him, a crunch of metal as the chair bent and snapped before their eyes. Blanche shoved someone out of her way, rushing toward the front of the room.
“Morgan, no!”
The sharp end of the now broken leg of the chair was rammed straight into Morgan’s stomach, pinning her to the whiteboard behind her. And then all hell broke loose.
Margot covered her head with her hands as glass sprayed across the room. She could feel the shallow cuts on her forearms where shards had spliced her skin, but the pain was an afterthought. Were her eyes deceiving her? Margot couldn’t fathom the chaos that was taking place. Flying desks, shattering windows; were they experiencing some kind of tornado?
While other students fled the room, Margot was frozen in place, watching as her professor was impaled by an invisible force and Blanche was shouting about her stupid bag. What purse was so important at this moment? “What the fuck is going on?!” Margot screamed over the chaos. 
None of this was real. She had surely just fallen asleep in class. Yes, this was all some part of her twisted nightmares. “This is a dream.” Margot whispered to herself. “You’re about to wake up.” She repeated this mantra as she pinched herself. Only she wasn’t waking up. 
The world shattered around Morgan. Sharp edges and razor points pinwheeled toward her face, too fast for her to catch her horrified reflection spliced through each piece. The fog around her senses parted; Morgan swore later that she felt every groove in the wood grain as it raced through her body, heavier and slower than the pole that had killed her, but no less painful. “Fuck you…” She hissed in a whisper, her lungs wheezing as they remembered the blood rushing through them, the bite of concrete at her back, and the numb feeling of death in her mouth. 
Constance screamed again as she drove the chair leg harder into the wall. “Stop! What’s wrong with you? Just stop! Stop and die!” The old overhead lights buzzed anxiously. Sparks burst and showered down on the class. Children. She hadn’t even been thinking about the children. Constance drifted back, staring with wild confusion as students phased in and out of her, neither seeing nor caring, much less understanding… What was she becoming? Constance reached out for a small one, squeezing himself under a chair as tightly as he could. “I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s her. She’s making me do this, she can’t leave me alone!” The chair flew back against the wall and snapped in two.
Morgan’s body trembled, trying to fix itself and coming up against the chair leg in her chest. She gripped it with both hands and pulled, gasping as it inched out, dripping with dark, tar like blood. Her eyes found Margot’s as she struggled. “This. Is. Real,” she said between gasps. “Help Blanche or get out of here.”
Adam was a normally laid back guy, preferring to let non-monster life just proceed at its own pace. But he’d been conditioned to respond when the spooky side reared its head. He hollered to Terry, and Andros to get people out. Luckily instincts from the football field asserted themselves and the two other DIE started ushering students off. 
Adam’s backpack would probably be a national security concern and unfortunately most of the stuff in here could only harm physical threats. But nevertheless Adam withdrew a long cruel length of barbed wire that’d done more then  its fair share of strangling and trip-wire duty lately. The cold iron glinted beneath spots of rust and dried blood. 
Technically it was a weapon against Fae, but iron was iron. 
Adam could trust Blanche to do her ghostbusters stuff, while he could only help those he could see. He vaulted over twisted chairs as if they were track hurdles, trying to navigate a room quickly becoming a telekinetic warzone. Adam knelt beside Morgan, spooling out the suspiciously-stained barbed wire in a circle around them both. 
“Oh you’re still alive Prof ….cool, uh just a sec.” 
She’s making me do this, she can’t leave me alone. For a single moment, Blanche could almost understand Morgan inherently wanting to destroy Constance’s soul. There was no time, however, to dwell on Constance’s blatant hypocrisy woven in her rationalization of endangering a room full of people. She ducked under pieces of flying debris as Adam launched himself at Morgan. Blanche, already in a poor mood, wondered only briefly if she should be concerned about Adam killing Morgan for her obvious inhuman nature of surviving being impaled - would Morgan be necessary to kill for humanity?? - but decided that the only thing she could do right now was trust him, even through the underlying anger. 
Constance launched herself at Adam and Morgan, her infuriated scream echoing in Blanche’s ears as she realized she couldn’t pass the invisible wall the iron circle created. Blanche wasn’t thinking clearly as she frantically searched for her bag, head whipping around for the stupid thing. Before she knew it, though, she was throwing herself in front of Adam and Morgan just as a large piece of desk ripped from the floor and was thrown at them. 
Blanche’s hands raised out in front of her and there was a loud crash. 
She hardly registered the pain, she was used to it. Honestly, she was more thrown off by the large broken window in the back of the classroom the desk had flown out of. Whoops, maybe she had given that a little too much juice. The desk had sailed away from the three in front, going straight through Constance and crashing through the window. Screaming was erupting from the remaining students in the classroom.
“Please, get my bag!” Blanche snapped at Margot, breathing heavily. “It’s pink and white and it has things that can stop this. Now! I’ll try to stop her from doing any more damage to anyone else but I can only play ping pong for so long before I pass out!”
Despite Morgan’s words Margot couldn’t make herself believe this was reality. The black strands of blood that oozed from the professor’s wounds were enough to convince herself this was some kind of fever, probably the result of a concussion or even blood loss from her shallow wounds. Nonetheless Margot felt some kind of control, different than how her nightmares usually felt. 
Margot watched as one of the remaining students, she thought his name was Adam, bound over the anarchy that had taken over the classroom, before surrounding himself and Morgan in some kind of strange, ritualistic circle. Wow, her brain was so very good at conjuring things up, it had even given Blanche some Carrie-esque superpowers. Doing as Morgan had instructed, Margot turned to Blanche who was in the midst of quite the battle.
“Okay, okay! I can do that!” Margot yelled back to Blanche’s request. Pink and white, pink and white. She repeated the description to herself as she searched. Margot dodged the multitude of flying furniture as her eyes scanned the classroom floor for the bag. Margot thought back to where they had been sitting before all of this had started up. She looked in this direction, spotting the bag. Margot scrambled towards it on all fours, her palms and knees burning as she did so. “Blanche! I got it!” Just as her left hand clasped the object, she heard a deep crunch. A large overhead light had fallen, or rather, had been dropped onto her wrist by an unseen force. Margot could feel a shattering in her bones and glass in her skin. She cried out. For a dream, this pain felt so very real. She reached out with her other hand, taking hold of the bag. Margot shook the heavy light fixture off of her and cradled the injury. “Here.” She whimpered, holding it up as high as she could manage, the splinters and glass digging in deeper.
Morgan tugged on the chair leg in her chest. She could imagine how it splintered around her body and all the screaming she would’ve been doing if she’d still had a life to lose. Should she scream now? Would it make anything any better if she made a big ol’ holler and begged for someone to make this stop? Would any of this be any less ridiculous? Morgan started to laugh. It was a deathly, wheezing little rattle at first, but as the chair leg popped free and she fell into her student, it grew stronger. “Well that was weird and random and lucky, right?” She said to Adam. The classroom was still flying in chaos. Half the students had made it out but half a dozen remained, most of them cowering in corners or frozen in shock. “Class dismissed!” She called chucking the chair leg at Constance. It sailed through her and clattered against the wall, bopping Maxine on the head. “Apologies! But, seriously, go!” What else was there to do? There was some very gnarly looking wire around her and Adam that looked suspiciously purposeful. She gave him a sidelong look, brow arched in a silent question as she knelt down and reached outside it for her bag. “Can you see what’s going on?” She asked, running her hand through, but finding everything but what she was looking for. She undid all the zippers and flaps and started to dump the contents on the ground. “Don’t see many frat boys carrying this in their backpack. I’m not sure if that’s technically allowed on campus…” But anxious blabbering wasn’t actually making anything better. She needed to find-- her salt! “Perfect.” Morgan opened the velvet pouch and heaved the contents across the floor. The salt pattered the ground like rain. It spread thin, rolling wide across the dusty tile. Constance flew up to one of the chairs still standing, unharmed. She clenched her fists as she took in the double barrier between her and her ‘prize.’ “Sorry to keep disappointing you,” Morgan sneered, her eyes drifting downwards at her failed ploy. The feeling was mutual.
Adam had known Morgan was an inhuman since first being in class with her and feeling the frigid fire sensation her proximity set off all through his body. But though Adam had been born with the clairvoyant ability to sense all supernatural creatures, well those with physical bodies anyway, his Hunter vibes weren’t as specific as those who’d undergone more specific mutation. Morgan could have just been the world’s biggest pixie for all he knew. 
 But since the prof was taking this whole impalement thing like a champ, Adam was placing his bets on one of the undead. Since he’d seen her during the day without wickerman shit going down, the Hunter was going to very tentatively put his money on his gothic lit teacher being a zombie.
Was Morgan Beck actually a two hundred and twenty something year old Mary Shelly moonlighting as a Texan? Time would tell. 
Morgan asked some rather uncharitable questions of why a gentleman was carrying bloodstained barbed wire in his bag and if he could see anything. “Trying to keep cows outta the keggers,” he explained cheekily before turning to survey the madness going on. He wanted to help Blanche and not just chill in this iron circle, but the simple fact was: “Can’t see anything except shit flying everywhere and Harlow doing some cheer squad poses.”
“Morgan! Adam! Stay in the circle!” Blanche yelled frantically. Playing telekinetic interference was harder than she thought, and she didn't want them to get hurt chucking trying to chuck salt. Out of frustration, Constancee stopped aiming at Adam and Morgan and aimed at Blanche herself, seeing it faster to go through her. Debris was building up as Blanche redirected things to slam into the walls, Constance howling in rage at her failures. 
Finally, Margot yelled to her, and Blanche heard the best news of the day. Unfortunately, Constance wasn’t deaf. “No! Fuck -” She saw the light fall, and feared the worst - but Margot was okay, for now, holding her bag high enough for all to see. “Margot, run! Or take cover!!” Blanche reached out her hand, and her bag flew through the air. Constance tried to rip it down away from Blanche, causing salt and books and a small dagger to go clattering to the ground. Blanche tugged back, the pain in her head excruciating as she gave one hard mental yank, and it flew back into her. Blanche wasted no time; she finally grasped her iron rod tightly, throwing her bag to the side.  Constance threw things, trying to knock her off balance to get her away or worse. There was no use. Blanche ducked or threw them away herself before she was close enough to --
“This doesn’t concern you! Run like the others, why don’t you! Run, before I--”
Blanche cut Constance off with a hard swing of the iron rod. She dissolved with one last scream, and the presence faded away quickly. Blanche felt like her skin was on fire, but the tiny pin pricks in her skin were gone. They were alone. It was over. She looked back to where Adam and Morgan were, their figures blurring as the rod slipped from her hand. “She’s gone. It’s safe.” Blanche’s knees buckled underneath her and she collapsed, utterly exhausted. “Call 9-1-1, Margot’s hurt.” Blanche called quietly. She laid backward, unable to keep herself upright as she closed her eyes tight and sank into darkness. Time to rest.
The bag flew from her grasp, and at Blanche’s order, Margot reduced her form to a fetal position, not knowing if she could make it to the exit. She covered her head and drifted in and out of consciousness, her mind forgetting, or rather, repressing the memory of what had just occurred.
Margot was awoken by Constance’s piercing scream, her ears continuing to ring from the sound for minutes afterwards, but at least she was back to the real world. Finally she was out of the strange scenario her brain had conjured up after the tornado, or hurricane, or whatever it was. 
She began to stand, holding her head. “I’m okay. I’m fine!” Margot assured Blanche and the rest of them, though her body was throbbing. “Blanche?” Margot could see the girl’s crumbled frame on the ground. “Blanche!” Margot ran to her and kneeled beside her. She brought her head to Blanche’s chest and heard the slow thumping of her heart. At least she was alive. Margot took Blanche’s hand, not knowing how else to be useful. “Professor, are you okay?” She looked back at Morgan and Adam.
It never felt like it was over, with Constance. Morgan stayed still, trembling and on high alert. It wasn’t until Blanche’s body slipped to the ground with a thud that she snapped back into step with the rest of the world. All the wrecked furniture leapt out at her eyes, super saturated with violence, confounding her sense of space with their jutting wrong angles, dusty debris, and bloody ends… blood…
“I-I’m fine,” Morgan stammered, stepping over Adam’s wire ring. “Who all is still in here? Adam, you’re good, right? Margot--” She stumbled over to the girl, looking at the mess of her wrist. “You’re gonna need to get to student health, or the hospital. But you’ve in one piece, and you’re gonna be okay!” She squeezed the girl’s shoulder, nodding encouragingly. If it wasn’t for the dark stain of dead blood on her cardigan, you wouldn’t have known she’d been run through and stuck to the wall only minutes ago. “Blanche--” she sighed, shrugged, and stepped over the girl. She would be okay. Morgan could carry her out to her car and get her squared up in her own apartment easy. “Carlos!” She gave the boy a sharp look. 
He was grinning sheepishly, scrunched up in the corner, as if it would make him any smaller than his six feet two inches. “Sorry. It just seemed, like, better to try to be invisible?  But I’m going now. I’m--”
Carlos paled and bent double as he vomited cheetos, acid, and clear fluid on the floor.
Morgan followed his line of vision and found-- “Shit, Maxine! Maxine?” She pushed the rest of the classroom furniture aside and knelt down to where she lay on the floor. There was a deep gash in her head, soaking her sandy brown hair black. Her eyelid hung down the wrong way and there was some kind of matter sticking up through her hair. Morgan’s stomach clenched. She didn’t dare touch her like this. There was no telling how few barriers there were between her brain and Morgan now, or if there was any tender, fresh-peeled skin she’d crave taking a bite of-- Maxine had been quiet, depressed, wry humored, blunt when you could get her to open up. She really wasn’t good at explicating literature into coherent theory, but she was young and soft and struggling, and now she was nothing. “Carlos--” she said, voice shaking. “Please leave. All of you…” She turned around and collected Blanche off the floor and into her arms. “Grab your stuff, or don’t, but we’re not staying here. It’s not safe.” It was starting to seem like nowhere was.
“I’m alright Professor,” Adam quietly gathered both his and Blanche’s occult paraphernalia while the Medium was being attended to by Morgan. Though salt, iron, and other instruments were unlikely to arouse that much suspicion, it didn’t make sense to take any chances in this town. He packed up his backpack and Blanche’s bag and slung them as a shoulder as the room was vacated. 
But though Adam pretended to be wholly engrossed in packing and ushering the vomiting remaining students out the door, the Hunter kept an eye on Professor Beck. If Morgan was what Adam thought she was, or some other rarer variety of undead, then she’d have to be closely observed when around the wounded students. 
If she slipped up? Well with those gnarly injuries it’d be pretty plausible that a beloved literature professor perished in the hospital complication. There’d be a whole weepy story in the student paper and everything. 
With Blanche safely cradled in Morgan’s arms, Margot let go of the girl's hand. She sensed that Blanche was in safe hands with the professor. As everyone began to exit, Margot took a second to gather herself. She wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but she was not in any mood to find out right now. Using her one good arm, she hoisted her backpack over her shoulder. There was no way she was leaving her laptop behind. How else was she going to figure all of this out? 
The room was empty now, the rest of the class being ushered out by Morgan and Adam. Margot stood in the doorway for a few moments, admiring the destruction, before following the rest of the group out into the hall and presumably to the hospital. 
Constance screamed silently, reaching within her soul for something to sew herself back together again. The world broke into starlight flashes, too bright and formless to mean anything. Her mind blazed. Was she dying again? Was she going back to the purgatory before this new world? To hell? She wondered the same every time she was struck and dissipated. The magic of death was strange to her and she did not know when it would be ripped away as suddenly as it had been ripped into her. When the winds of fear that had scattered her to the wilds fell and the world was still once more, she could see the room where she had shattered it, and within, puddles of salt laid to tell her how much she did not belong and was not wanted, as if she did not spend her existence with that clarity in abundance. But beyond the salt, and dripping slowly into it, was the darkness of thick blood protruding from the head of a young girl.
Constance flew to the broken classroom walls. She would reach all the way through to the girl if her body would only will itself solid again. But she was only air, and the salt had spilled too close to the wall for her to come through. She spied the dead girl only from a distance, taking in the judgement from her unblinking eyes. What have I done? She thought. What have I done?
You have crushed me, the girl’s body seemed to say. You have proven them right.
If Constance could have wept for them both she would have. What cruelty was this, that she set out to strike down only one soul and take a life as miserable and innocent as her own had once been? She sent the thought away on the wind, lest it destroy her further. 
“I will show them,” she whispered to the air. “I will show them all what true monsters are.”
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natalilysims · 4 years
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Legacy Questionnaire
Thought this would be fun to do so I can look back on it after a few more generations pass and see how some answers change. This can also be done as a ‘send me a number’ game so if you want to do that you can find the original post by @melien​, here. Inspired by @an0nymousghost​, you can check out their post here!
1. When did you start your legacy? What inspired you to do it?
I started this Legacy on March 28, 2019. I usually do challenges where there are a lot of rules for each generation but I wanted to start something where I could do pretty much what I wanted and play a little bit more out of my comfort zone. And I’d seen a lot of amazing Legacies on Simblr that made me want to do my own and post it.
2. Are you following any strict rules there or just play how you want?
Nah, I’m basically just doing what I want.
3. Post the oldest picture you have from your legacy save.
The first ever Sharp house. Originally created by lilsimsie but I gave it a renovation. It’s up for download if anyone wants it!
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4. What’s so special about your founder that you wanted to start a legacy with them?
She wasn’t really special to be honest. I just finally made a Sim that I managed to enjoy playing enough to not give up and start a new family like I’ve done a few times before with Legacy Challenges.
5. Favourite generation(s)
Generation 1 was probably my favourite. Which makes it sounds like I’ve enjoyed the family less and less as the challenge has gone on but that not the case at all. I think it’s because even though it was only a little over a year ago, I have a bit of nostalgia for that generation? Idk, I’m weird.
6. Favourite heir.
Probably Harper, the Gen 3 heir. 
7. Favourite spare.
Either Abi from Gen 1 or Jordan from Gen 3. 
8. Favourite spouse.
Alessia, the Gen 4 spouse. I’m gonna be really sad when I have to move on to Gen 5 and stop playing her.
9. Top 5 favourite legacy sims.
1. Jordan 2. Alessia 3. Sonny 4. Abi 5. Hayley
10. Top 3 favourite couples.
1. Safiya and Milo - the OG couple of this challenge. I have to stan. 2. Jordan and Jackson - kinda look like brothers but I just love them so much. 3. Eli and Alessia -  currently playing them and they’re so cute.
11. If you ever did any story lines, what is the one you’re most proud of?
I’m not a huuuge fan of making big story lines for my Sims but sometimes I have little things in my head about the Sims’ personality or their motivations for doing certain things that someone looking through my legacy won’t know because I don’t necessarily put them into my posts to make a huge story.
12. Any memorable moments?
Mango, a cat from Gen 2, randomly going into labour. I literally don’t know how she got pregnant.
13. Any funny moments?
None that I can think of. That’s upsetting.
14. The most unexpected twist in your legacy?
Some of the kids were unexpected twists - Harper and Hazel weren’t supposed to exist and neither was Eli but I have a problem with making my Sims have too many kids. 
15. Favourite name used on your sims?
I remember being very excited about naming Gus. And I love the name Sonny, especially for a boy. For surnames, I was really proud of Nair and Lane, even though they’re pretty basic lmao.
16. Who of your legacy sims you can relate the most to?
I don’t really relate to any but if I had to choose it would either be Abi or Harper.
17. Do you usually get attached to them or just play without deep thinking?
I get kind of attached in that I love looking back at old screenshots and remember how fun it was to play them but I don’t cry when my Sims die or anything like that because I usually have other Sims that I can move onto and focus on. And like... if I really wanted to see a Sim again, I probably have them saved somewhere.
18. Any surprise babies? What was the story?
Not really a surprise because I made it happen, but Harper and Hazel were not part of my original plan for Generation 2. I planned on Faye only having 2 kids but I was bored and when that happens I usually cure the boredom by having more kids, which I’m trying very hard to stop doing because after the excitement of having the baby is over, I can be even less interested in playing than I was initially.
19. Who of your sims has the best style?
I feel like none of my Sims have the best style, they’re all pretty generic, but if I had to choose... Jordan or Harper.
20. Who is the best genetic mix of their parents?
This is definitely a flaw of The Sims 4 and its shitty skin tones but I quite like that Max and Jordan (who are twins) have a slight mix of their parent’s genetics. Max has Harper’s hair and Cheyanne’s skin tone. And Jordan has Cheyanne’s hair and Harper’s skin tone.
Again, this shouldn’t be a thing. The kids should have a skin tone that’s in the middle of what their parents’ skin tone is but I just thought it was interesting when I noticed it.
21. Is your legacy berry, vanilla, banilla, or a mix of those?
Vanilla in the sense that they aren’t berry sims but not vanilla in the sense that I use a lot of CC and some mods.
22. Have you ever done another legacies apart from this one?
I’ve started a few, two of which I began posting on here but then deleted because I didn’t like how they were going. I was 100% expecting to give up with the Sharp family as well but it’s going pretty good so far.
23. How many generations are you aiming for? When you reach a certain milestone, are you going to continue playing or just wrap up the whole thing?
If I lose interest at any point and genuinely get bored of the Sharp family then I’ll probably stop at the end of whichever generation I’m on but ideally I want to complete 10 generations. I might take a Sim born in the final generation and use them in another legacy/challenge I start as a spouse or something but I’ll stop with the Sharp Legacy after 10.
24. Have you ever done any other challenges with your sims from the legacy?
At some point I probably will use someone from the Sharp family in something else but so far I haven’t. I will be using a Sim from another challenge/family in Sharp Gen 5 though.
25. What do you do when you feel uninspired playing the legacy?
Either stop playing The Sims 4 altogether or play another challenge/family for a bit.
26. Have you had your sims die? Which death was the hardest to take?
I’m on Gen 4 so a lot of Sims have died at this point, all from old age. So far, Harper’s was probably the hardest to take.
27. Do you have this one OTP that stands out among the other legacy couples? Tell us about them!
Jordan and Jackson. I don’t know what it is about them, I just love them so much. Sometimes I wish I made Jackson the heir. I knew that for Gen 4 I wanted to live in Sulani and do Island Living stuff but I didn’t mold Jordan into an Island Living type of Sim so it wouldn’t have fit very well.
28. Have you had a sim who you grew to like?
Eli was very unplanned and I had no idea what to name him and I was like ugh why did I do this but now I love him a lot. Originally, I named him Casper.
Bailey was also very hard to name. I’ve always really loved her, it’s just the name that I’m not sure about. I like the name Bailey but something about Bailey Sharp isn’t my fave. And Sonny and Bailey don’t go together that well imo. But at the same time, now I couldn’t imagine her having a different name so... idk.
29. Have you had a sim that you fell in love with right away?
I’m always obsessed with the first born in a generation so - Abi, Hanna, Max & Jordan, Sonny
30. Do you choose your heirs yourself or make heir polls?
I have thought about making an heir poll when I’m not sure what I want to do for the next Generation but so far, I’ve managed to figure it out so I haven’t needed a poll.
Also, when it comes to choosing an heir, I usually like to choose when they are still a child so I can kind of mold them into what I want for the next Generation as they’re growing up. So making a poll would be hard because the people voting wouldn’t know my plan and I wouldn’t want to give major spoilers for what’s to come.
31. The first legacy memory that pops up in your head?
Safiya going to a cafe to make friends but she ended up just sitting alone drinking coffee. Or when Cheyanne and Harper went on a date and Harper died...
32. The hottest sim?
Gus, Max or Brandie
33. The prettiest sim?
I feel like I’ve been very lucky with this family because all the kids have been really pretty but if I had to choose, probably either Abi, Hayley or Jordan.
34. The most unique sim?
I feel like all my Sims are pretty basic to be honest. If I had to choose... maybe Jordan? I’m not sure. 
35. Have you had any sims that remind you of someone?
I’ve never really thought about it, so I guess not.
36. Do you use other people’s sims in your legacy?
I think most of the Sims I’ve used for this Legacy are either pre-made Sims in the saves I’ve been using or I’ve made them. I don’t think I’ve specifically downloaded anyone from somewhere for my Sim to marry. I probably will do that at some point though.
37. Imagine if you had a chance to meet one of your sims. Who would it be?
That’s so weird for me to imagine but if I had to, either Jordan or Harper.
38. Do you have that one generation you wish you’d done differently?
I love Brandie and Eli so much but I sometimes wish Harper and Cheyanne had Max and Jordan and then were done with babies because 2 generations in a row with 4 babies is a bit much.
39. Your favourite non-romantic relationship in the legacy?
Harper and Hazel were fun to play with at the beginning of Gen 3 when they went to university.
40. Random fun fact about your legacy you want to share!
I’m trying to make each generation a bit different and focus on a pack. Gen 1 and Gen 2 were both fairly generic but Gen 3 had a university theme for a while and Gen 4 is Island Living. Gen 5 will probably be a mix of Island Living and Eco Lifestyle (if I can be bothered to figure out how to properly work Eco-Lifestyle).
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