Tumgik
#spooky dead kids make the best friends
undercoveravenger · 7 months
Text
Intoxication
Tumblr media
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Male!Reader
Requested: Yes
Request: “love potion mix-up with Billy Hargrove??”
A/N: Happy Spooky Month everyone! Here's the first post for the 2023 Spooky Month event - the next post will be dropping on Tuesday, October 10th. Hope you enjoy!
-----
Things had been strange ever since the arrival of Billy Hargrove and his little sister, Max.
Well, things in Hawkins had been weird for a lot longer than that, especially since you and your best friend Steve had befriended the group of misfit kids that called themselves “the Party”. They’d introduced the two of you to a secret side of Hawkins, where magic and curses and strange creatures ran amok. One of the kids, a girl named Eleven, was able to control objects with her mind and see beyond what was there. Another, Will, was psychic and could connect to other planes of existence. Dustin had a way of knowing how things fit together before anyone else could even guess. Steve’s coworker from Scoops Ahoy, Robin, was a witch. And now, Max and her brother. Werewolves, if what Lucas had told you was to be believed.
But you really couldn’t bring yourself to care much about Billy Hargrove. Not when so much of his life seemed to be spent antagonizing your best friend and trying to disrupt your comfortable station within the school’s hierarchy, seemingly dead set on turning your life upside down. Even at stupid parties like this one, you could hear people chanting Billy’s name while he faced off against Steve in a match of beer pong somewhere deeper in the house while you try to coax the sticker-covered flask away from Robin in the kitchen.
“Robs, babe,” you murmur, sidling up beside her and leaning back against the kitchen island, “I think Vickie likes you already. I know it’s scary to risk rejection, but a love potion isn’t the solution here.”
Robin nods slowly to herself, but her fingers don’t loosen around the metal. “But what if I can’t do it?”
You cock your head, smiling as she meets your eyes. “But isn’t asking her and knowing better than using that and not knowing how she really feels?”
It takes a moment of consideration, but your friend nods, setting the flask on the chipped marble countertop. 
“It’s more of an enhancer than-” Robin starts and it’s clear that you’re about to get one of Robin’s infamous lectures on the science of magic when she is cut off by someone snatching the flask from its place in front of the two of you.
“Aww, so sweet of you to have my next drink ready for me,” Billy Hargrove leers at you, unscrewing the cap of the flask even as his usual infuriating smirk slips over his lips, pretty blue eyes fixed on yours in with that intense, holier-than-thou look he always had. Just because he was tall and handsome and had pretty eyes and hair that you kind of want to curl your fingers into and use to pull him closer to shut him up with a kiss, doesn’t mean he could do anything but irritate you by looking at you like he knew something he wasn’t willing to share.
Your heart lurches in your chest as he raises the flask, you know you have to at least try to stop him, especially since Robin seems so stunned you’re not entirely sure she could say anything at all.
“Probably don’t wanna drink that, Hargrove,” you say, reaching out just in time to catch his wrist. “Might end up with something worse than a hangover.”
Billy leans forward against the counter, using his other forearm to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks at your hand, holding tight around his wrist, before his eyes shift up to meet yours. “You threatenin’ me?”
A derisive snort escapes you, and you gesture subtly for Robin to make her escape. The last thing you’d want is for Billy to figure out she had anything to do with whatever happens if he’s stubborn enough to drink the potion and start targeting her once it wears off. She catches your hint and mumbles an excuse about finding Steve, disappearing quickly into the crowd. 
“Of course not,” you say, releasing him and holding your hands up placatingly. Sure, you didn’t really want to spend longer than necessary around Billy Hargrove, but you wanted to spend time with a pissed off Billy Hargrove even less. “Just think it probably wouldn’t be something you would like, so I was just hoping to get it back,” you reached for it as you spoke, leaning across the island yourself to try to make a grab for the flask. 
Billy snatches it away, taking a long gulp from the mouth of the flask, grinning at you all the while. He pulls a face, but doesn’t wince the way one might at the burn of alcohol, but you can see the moment the look in his eyes starts to shift and the realization hits you with all the weight of a semi-truck.
Billy Hargrove had just taken a love potion while looking right at you. Billy Hargrove was about to be convinced that you were the love of his life.
“Well,” you say, eyes flickering around to look anywhere but at Billy, “I should really be going.” You push back upright, swiftly turning to make your way out the back door of the house and starting off down the sidewalk in the direction of your own home before Billy could speak. You don’t make it far before you realize you’re being followed, the scuff of Billy’s worn leather boots giving him away as he trails behind you.
“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” you call back over your shoulder, pace remaining steady even as Billy speeds up to walk beside you.
“Wasn’t tryin’ to be,” he drawls, lips quirking up into something softer than his usual sneer. “Just walkin’.” 
You study him for a long moment. “Didn’t you drive to the party? Surprised you’d leave your precious Camaro behind.”
“I’ve been drinking,” he shrugs, clearly trying to appear nonchalant. “Drunk driving’s dangerous, y’know.” He’s quiet for a minute and you find yourself almost wondering what he’s thinking.
“You don’t have to walk me home if that’s what this is,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets and focusing your eyes on the way the lights on the stoplight a few blocks down flicker. “Steve already made me promise to call him when I get home.”
Billy huffs and he almost seems to be pouting when you glance over at him. “Don’t see why you’re with that loser in the first place. ‘s not good enough for you anyway.”
His words shock you enough that your steps falter and you have to turn to face him to see if he’s joking or not. Billy looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you. 
You have to fumble for words for a minute, the first thing you’re able to force out being a weak protest. “Steve’s not a loser!” Then the rest of his words catch up to you, “And he’s just my best friend, anyways.”
Billy seems to brighten at that, a more genuine smile crossing his lips than you’d ever seen before. “So,” he says, moving toward you slowly. The dull orange glow of the streetlights makes his hair shine almost copper and his eyes flash that distinct werewolf silver as he stalks toward you, gently herding you backward until your back is pressed to the brick wall of some long-closed business and Billy’s in front of you, arms caging you in on either side. On any other day, you might’ve felt claustrophobic- trapped and threatened by someone determined to fuck up your life. But today- with that love drunk look in Billy's eyes and that fond grin on his face, you were hesitantly pleased with your position. "If you're not with Harrington," Billy starts, leaning just a bit closer, until you can almost feel the breath of his words against your lips, "Does that mean you're available to go out with me on Friday?"
Part of you is tempted to say yes- to give in to this sweet, intoxicating side of Billy and let this go as far as he wants to take it- but the rest of you knows that what's happening is wrong.
You press a hand to Billy’s chest, pushing him back enough to give yourself some breathing room. 
"I would, but this isn't real, Billy." You force yourself to say, "You drank a love potion tonight- this- you don't mean any of this."
Billy laughs then, full and unrestrained and the most genuine you've ever heard him be. "That shit doesn't work on werewolves. Metabolism’s too fast for it to really do much of anything," he says, grin unable to be helped even as his laughter subsides. "And even if it did, the stuff that your buddy whipped up just makes feelings that's already there easier to act on."
You blink, the pressure you'd been using to keep Billy at bay slacking as you think through what he'd said. If he hadn't been affected by Robin’s potion then- 
Billy nudges closer, slipping his arms around your middle and tucking his face against the side of your neck. "The reason I was always so shitty to Harrington is that I was jealous," he murmurs softly, and you can feel the way he grins just a little wider as you start to relax against him, "I wanted to have people look at me like they look at him. I wanted to have you look at me like I was him." 
You can’t help the way your hands come up to curl around him too, the way your fingers curl into his shirt, or the way you press just a bit closer to him. You can’t help the answering grin from carving its way across your cheeks at the thought of how pleased Billy seems to be at being the center of your attention, but you also can’t stop those few little questions from itching away inside your mind. 
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” The thought escapes you almost unbidden, before you can second-guess yourself, and you can’t help but keep talking. “Why didn’t you ask me out? Or- or just say hi? Something other than-” you gesture vaguely back in the direction of the party.
The tired sigh that escapes him makes it clear he knows you’re talking about his grudge against Steve and all the drama he’s stirred up for the two of you.
“It’s-” he has to pause and think over his words for a moment before he can continue. “My experience with love is… complicated. My mom died when I was little and my dad- he changed after that. Got mean. Angry.” He swallows hard, pulling away far enough to look at you, to really look at you. “He made it clear that he expected pretty specific behavior from me and anything that didn’t meet that wasn’t… good for me. Liking a guy- well, that was pretty far from what he’d expect.” His hands drop from your sides and he steps back a bit, arms crossing over his chest like he’s trying to distance himself from his thoughts. “So I was rude and sarcastic and I was mean to Harrington because at least that kept me in your peripheral.” He meets your eyes again, bright and open and honest in the orange glow of the streetlights, “But I don’t want to just be in your peripheral anymore.” 
With all of what he'd said playing through your mind, finding the right words is proving difficult. "If we’re gonna try this, you've gotta leave Steve alone," you start finally, heart squeezing with more fondness than you're ready to admit as you watch the realization of what you mean starts to sink in and a million-watt smile pulls at Billy’s lips. "And Robin and the kids, too.”
A giddy laugh escapes Billy and he takes your hand in his, tugging you back down the street in the direction the two of you had been walking. “That’s a deal I’d make a thousand times over,” he says, grinning brightly as he walked with you, fingers intertwined with yours, hands swinging easily between the two of you.
Conversation flows easily as the two of you walk and you’re more at peace with Billy now than you could ever remember being with any of your exes, he insists on walking you home no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t need to. 
“Go out with me on Friday?” He says as the two of you stop at the foot of your driveway. “We could go for a picnic or to the drive-in if you want?”
When he’s looking at you like that, you can’t help but agree, quickly finding yourself more and more excited about your pending date. 
Billy kisses your hand before he lets go, stepping back as you turn away from him and head for your house. 
Billy smiles to himself as he watches you make your way up the driveway, keeping watch until you're safely inside, before turning and heading off in the direction of his own home. No, he knew he'd never have needed that love potion- not when it came to you. Billy Hargrove had been intoxicated by you since the first time he met you and he knows that isn't going to change any time soon.
554 notes · View notes
Note
Hiiiii, let me just say I love you writing!!!!! <3
Anyway my request is headcanons of Percy with a child of Erebus s/o. Erebus is the primordial god of darkness.
Like as a child of a primordial they’re extremely powerful and have like shadow powers. They also have really good night vision. They’re like super powerful at night because of all the darkness and a possible blessing of their step-mom Nyx.
Anyway have a good day/night :))))
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x child of erebus! reader hcs
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
content: percy jackson x child of erebus! reader hcs warning: none!! author's note: i know the pics are very feminine, but i tried my best to make this gn bc i noticed the 'child' instead of daughter!! i think i did it???? if you guys see any gendered terms, lemme know so i can fix it!! i know this is basically the daughter of nyx one i did but i like nightime escapades okay???? (im actually terrified of the dark and sleep with a nightlight at my grown ass age)
"and what do you think youre doing?" a voice questioned from behind percy, causing him to slip and fall from the brick wall he was just beginning to climb
"ow," he whined, resting a hand against his surely bruised ribs and attempting to look through the darkness at whoever scared him
"sorry! sometimes i forget other people can't see so well in the dark," you laughed lightly, holding your hand out to pull him back to his feet
percy took it, giving you a slightly grateful smile as he was back on his feet
"you must be y/n, then? erebus' kid?" percy questioned, dusking his sweatpants off, suddenly wishing he'd changed into better clothes like he vaguely thought to do
what kind of impression does blue food dye stained sweatpants give???
a bad one, surely.
"yup! the one and only, spooky master of the dark," you mocked all, dramatically, waving your hands around, which percy could just barely make out in the darkness
"great title. i personally go by lord of the seafoam but that's what my enemies call me," percy joked, enjoying your chuckles more than he thought he would
"and what do your friends call you?" you questioned with a tilt of your head.
"oh, also lord of the seafoam. or percy," he winked with a beaming smile that you didn't need night vision to see.
"well, lord of the seafoam, you never answered my question."
"hmm? OH! right, well, you see, my step dad mentioned something about a meteor shower tonight and i was trying to get to bunker nine to sit on the roof to watch it," percy explained with a shrug
"no way! me too! well, i was gonna use the half blood hill, but still!" you replied, bouncing on the balls of your feet in excitement
"actually, could i come with you? you know how leo is, probably still working in there and once he starts yapping, he never stops. i'd probably miss the whole thing," percy lied.
he knew leo was dead asleep and he gave percy a key to bunker nine just so he could watch the meteor shower
but was he really gonna pass up the opportunity to watch it with someone so dashing?? he's stupid, but not that stupid
"yeah, course! c'mon, i got snacks too!" you nodded, instantly, reaching forwards and grasping his wrist and dragging him towards half blood hill
percy was grateful you were leading the way for two reasons: one, he couldn't see for shit in this darkness, and two, it allowed him to hide his blush behind your back.
you'd already set up a place by what used to be thalia's tree, a blanket splayed out and snacks splattered on top
it was a perfect view over camp and of the sky, percy sure it would be difficult to miss the shower now
but, while you guys waited, you and percy couldn't seem to stop talking
the randomest and stupidest stuff
"aliens. yes or no?"
"obvi. hard yes."
"is cereal a soup?"
"technically yes, but i'd like to live in delusion that's it not."
"who do you think-" percy started but got cut off by your hands shooting out and wrapping around his arm
"look, look! it's starting!" you explained, pointing up at some streaking lights through the dark sky
you guys watched in silent awe for a while before percy leaned over to you, which wasn't much of a distance as you still clung to his arm
"why does a shooting star taste better than a comet?" he whispered, his eyes still on the sky
you squinted at him suspiciously but hummed in question
"It's a little meteor."
silence and then the cutest giggles percy's ever heard
"that's so chessy!" you managed to get out between your laughs, basically curled into percy's side
and his smile was beginning to hurt his cheeks
then a comfortable silence settled over the two once more, their eyes drawn back to the fireballs shooting through the sky
well, your eyes were
percy's eyes stayed on you, his blood rushing in his ears and his heart beating like a drum
then you caught him, out of the corner of your eye, biting your lip to keep your smile at bay
you were sure he didn't know you knew, your excellent night vision being the only reason you could see his eyes on you so clearly
then the final meteor flew by and percy started praying for just one more, not wanting the night to end
"this was fun...lord of the seafoam," you mocked, bumping your shoulder with his
percy laughed at the call back, but his heart wasn't in it
he knew this night would end and you guys would just be acquaintances, someone you just wave at as you pass on the way to your cabin, but never another conversation to be had
or that's what percy thought.
"of course, master of the darkness," he tried to joke, trying to hide his disappointment at the ending night, "any time-"
before he could get another mopey word out, you were shooting forwards, a kiss pressed firmly to his cheek
the words died on his tongue
"you know, i think the full moon is tomorrow. do you wanna-"
"yes. totally. let's do it," percy instantly cut in, shaking off your nearly paralyzing touch, the need to see you again enough to break him of any spell or prison.
373 notes · View notes
eggluverz · 7 months
Text
halloween with the hsr boys
Tumblr media
pairing: dan heng; jing yuan; blade x reader
sof's note: guess who is in a halloweeny mood :> meee! and i'm sure a lot of y'all are as well so let's bask in these autumn vibes together LOL special shoutout to the anon who suggested dan heng would watch like 15 vids before he carves a pumpkin fhsjkghdf that is so accurate <3 pls enjoy and happy fall!!
Tumblr media
dan heng
not big on the spooky parts of halloween, but he loves getting in the halloween/autumn spirit by watching twitches and halloween town with you
you host a pumpkin carving contest on halloween eve between the two of you and dan heng 100% takes it seriously
days of prep before the big night, hours of youtube videos in his history… he even reads up on the origins of pumpkin carving—just to be fully immersed and prepared
when the time comes, dan heng has his tools lined up in the most efficient order as he readies himself to make his design
he, of course, wanted to carve a tree with maple leaves falling in the night sky
you stare at his template with wide eyes, quickly scrapping your happy face idea to think of something more creative…
noticing this, dan heng chuckles in amusement. “you don’t have to change your design to match mine”
you shake your head. “and risk losing the competition? no way”
“then may the best carver win”
when the two of you are done, you take a photo and send to your friends to vote
it was a close call, but dan heng ends up winning by two votes
“maybe i should’ve joined your pumpkin carving research…” you pout, staring between your finished product and his
“there’s always next year,” dan heng soothes, giving you a hug. “besides, you’re always the winner in my eyes.”
jing yuan
he would make all the pies for you
pumpkin pie, pecan pie, apple pie, sweet potato pie, apple crumble pie…you name it 
he doesn’t even know how to make pie he just googled a bunch of recipes and winged it
you think something tastes off but you try to encourage him anyway 
of course, jing yuan sees right through it
“it‘s not that i don’t like your baking, i really do, but i may have some suggestions for the future…”
“there is no need to sugarcoat your distaste, y/n,” he says with a laugh. “we can redo them together.”
the pies turn out even better the next time
the two of you end up picking up pie making as your fall-time hobby this year and bake pie for all your friends
he tries to make a mimi-safe pie as well
mimi hates it (pumpkin spice is not good on the lion’s tongue) 
but you think the effort is cute :> 
he ends halloween night off by sharing a yummy slice of apple crumble pie with whipped cream on top with you
“so sweet!” you state happily as he feeds you the first bite. 
jing yuan leans forward and smiles. “not as sweet as you” 
blade
goes all in for halloween
is dead instead most of the year, comes to life for the halloween spirit
he likes to decorate the house with you, even making a mini “haunted maze” in the driveway for the trick-or-treaters
accidentally makes a kid cry in it…
really, he just went in the maze to do a quick maintenance check, but he looked so menacing in his costume that a kid saw him and started crying 
blade is too confused about what happened to feel bad 
you give the kid extra candy and apologize to their parents while stifling a laugh at blade’s blank expression
“i didn’t even say ‘boo’,” he murmurs curiously.
you just pat him on the head and give him a kiss on the cheek
after the trick-or-treat shenanigans, you and blade relax and unwind on the comfort of your couch
his definition of unwinding on halloween is watching old horror movies
[or, if you cannot handle horror like me: he watches the barbie movies with you to help you take your mind off the halloween scares and go to sleep :3]
you cuddle him as you doze off while eating leftover halloween candy 
blade carries you to bed and tucks you in for the night bc you deserve a good night’s rest <3
365 notes · View notes
static-symphony-fm · 16 days
Text
you are in love (true love)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
now playing: you are in love (taylor's version)
pairing: magnus chase x fem! reader
word count: 1.9k
summary: 5 people who knew magnus was in love with you before you did + 1 sword
an: FIRST FANFIC LETS FUCKING GOOOOO this took so long to write! I love how I accidentally made it blue themed even though that's magnus's least favorite colour 😭 its ok we all know he's canonically a 1989 girly
fun fact i actually took the first picture! i shit you not I was on a road trip with my family READING MAGNUS CHASE and I look up and see THAT SIGN and i SCRAMBLED to take a picture
content/ warnings: 5+1 things, background blitzstone bcs c'mon they're basically canon, shitty writing, kissing ooo spooky, magnus being a simp, there actually isn't a whole lot of reader in this x reader fic, minor allusions to sex stuff, a lot of swearing, weird use of perspective, i was trying to go for third person limited but magnus is the one it's limited to not reader? but reader is referred to using second person? sorry if it's confusing.
1. samirah al-abbas
  if someone had told magnus a year ago that in a couple month’s time, meeting for coffee weekly with one of his best friends and not getting kicked out of the overpriced coffee shop was going to be the most normal thing in his life, he wouldn’t have believed them. probably would have flipped them off, too, and stole their wallet as he walked away. but he’d like to think that he was a changed man, seeing as he was, in fact, in a hipster café in boston, trying not to make fun of all the fancy menu options. like, seriously? who orders a dragon fruit, pomegranate, and kale smoothie?
he realized he’d been thinking for too long and returned his attention to samirah, sitting across from him and discussing wedding plans for her upcoming marriage to amir as she sipped her latte. he noticed the way her eyes seemed to get brighter, and her entire body language conveyed how excited she was as she talked about him. magnus had a fleeting thought about how good it must feel to love someone so unconditionally like that, and have them love you back just as much. 
as if reading his mind, samirah finished her sentence and studied him, tilting her head as she seemed lost in thought, peering at him like he was a calculus problem she couldn’t quite figure out. 
after a few seconds, magnus broke the silence. 
“alright, it’s getting weird. why’re you looking at me like that?”
samirah snapped out of it, focusing on what he was saying.
“nothing, just… do you think you’ll ever get married?”
jeez, that was a loaded question. magnus narrowly avoided choking on his black coffee, swallowing and burning his throat before answering.
 “sam, i’m dead.”
“so? people get married in valhalla all the time. i have been to a very disproportionate amount of weddings in the two years i worked there.”
“yeah? how many of those end in divorce?”
samirah took a long drink of her coffee, swallowing it slowly as she responded.
“forever is a very long time, and no relationship is perfect, but wouldn’t it be better to have someone to spend that time with?”
“…i guess.” magnus accepted, lost in thought. truthfully, samirah was right, like always. if circumstances were different, if he hadn’t died at sixteen, he could imagine himself getting married. settling down. living in a cabin in the forest with two kids. 
a thought came into his mind, entirely of its own accord, of doing all of that with you. your laugh, your soft hair, the way your lips curled up and your eyes widened when you smile. you’d probably be a great mom.
whoa, what the hell? he should definitely not be thinking about getting married to his friend, what the fuck? that is not normal. 
he pushed the weird thought out of his mind as best he could, gulping his coffee and focusing on the burning in his throat and not what he was just thinking. samirah had gone back to talking about amir, and magnus was not going to think about marrying you any longer.
2. alex fierro
after nearly getting his head cut off by alex’s garrote for the third time that day, magnus needed a break. alex had decided that magnus needed to learn to fight without the help of jack, and it wasn't going too well for him. he collapsed on the bench next to alex, chugging half a bottle of water before even taking a breath. alex rolled her eyes. 
“it’s not that hard, you just aren’t fast enough.”
magnus managed to control himself and not say a snarky comment back, but it was a close call. instead, he ignored her, staring straight ahead and not engaging. unfortunately, you were in his direct line of sight, sparring with mallory only a few metres away. alex picked up on this quickly, nudging his side. 
“you like watching y/n fight, huh?” she teased, smirking. damn, why did she have to be so perceptive?
“what? no. shut up.” magnus replied quickly, trying to hide his blush. “i mean… she’s a good fighter. not like i like her or anything like that.” 
“mhm. suuuure you don’t.” alex replied, definitely not believing him. fuck.
“i’m telling the truth!” magnus protested. god, how was arguing with alex harder than physically fighting her? 
“yeah. did you see her necklace today? pretty, right?”
“she’s not even wearing a neck- fuck.” magnus said instantly, before catching himself. 
“go to hell.”  he swore, glaring at alex, who was grinning at him in a way that reminded him a little too much of her mother. 
“you first.”
      3 + 4. blitzen & hearthstone
“magnus? magnus?”
a pale hand reached in front of magnus face, waving and then snapping its fingers, bringing him back to reality. he blinked and looked around at hearth and blitz, sitting across from him in the dining room of the chase space. hearth took his hand back to sign finally, raising his eyebrows sarcastically.
“your head’s way up in the clouds, kid.” blitz remarked, drumming his short, well manicured fingernails on the table, his silver engagement ring glinting.  he was right. magnus definitely was pretty out of it lately. 
probably thinking about y/n, hearth signed. jeez, why did every conversation he had have to be about you? and no, he most certainly was not thinking about you and your pretty eyes and your delicate hands and the way your ass looked in those jeans you were wearing yesterday… jesus fucking christ, he needed to stop.
 he buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly, then raised his head back up so hearth could read his lips, hoping that his blush wasn’t as visible as it felt. 
“i am not thinking about her.” he lied through his teeth. 
“there’s nothing wrong with having a crush, you know.”
ugh, why did they have to act so much like his dads? 
“i don’t have a crush!”
“kid, you’re a terrible liar. everyone can see the way you stare at that girl. now remember, if you’re doing anything intimate, you gotta use protection…”
that’s it. magnus couldn’t stand up from the table fast enough
 “nope! this conversation is ending right now. good talk!”
5. annabeth chase
magnus and annabeth had been walking around new york for the past three hours, trying to make up for the ten years spent apart.  annabeth had shown him her favorite library, and pointed out a bunch of cool architecture in nearby buildings, with a promise to show him and his friends camp half-blood in the summer.
 they were currently taking a break, stopping for lunch at a falafel place that wasn’t quite as good as fadlan’s, but it was still falafel. magnus was enjoying listening to annabeth talk about her architecture projects– she was taking online classes to prepare for the higher level of new rome university’s program. 
magnus loved listening to her talk about things he didn’t understand. as a child he’d always thought she was a genius, the way she always solved puzzles and math problems easily. ten years later, that theory still held up, hearing her go on about a bunch of terms he didn’t understand.
“sorry, i’m probably boring you to tears. you wanna talk about something else?”
annabeth offered.
“no, it’s fine… i really don’t have a lot going on.” magnus replied, smiling politely.
“come on. there’s gotta be something interesting.” an idea seemed to come to annabeth.
“you have a crush on anybody?”
magnus swallowed. 
“no.”
but he was too slow. those steel gray eyes that matched his own were locked on him like a hawk, or maybe an owl. 
“yes, you do. come on. spill!”
magnus stayed silent. he was not telling his cousin about his crushes, but those metallic eyes stayed locked on him. he eventually gave up. annabeth could be scary when she wanted to be.
“fine. fine. her name’s y/n…”
+1. jack
 it was movie night at the chase space. was magnus ever gonna stop calling it that? no. it was cool. shut up. the credits were rolling on some disney movie that alex had insisted on, and everyone else was slowly but surely making their way to their rooms, yawning as they said their good nights. you had been sitting next to magnus on the couch the whole time, and suffice it to say that he had had some trouble concentrating on the film.  
it was just you and him, you in your nirvana t-shirt and gray sweat shorts, and in that moment, he decided to tell you.
 you got up to leave, waving at him, and in a feat of bravery so incredible it would be studied by historians for centuries to come, magnus managed to work up the nerve to speak up. 
“hey, uh, can i talk to you for a sec?”
“sure? what’s up?” you asked as you sat back down.
jesus, what had he gotten himself into? it’s ok, magnus, you got this. you beat loki in a flyting. you can talk to a pretty girl. 
“uh, i was just thinking… i just…” off to a great start, aren’t we? fuck off, voice in his head. he can do this. he took a deep breath.
“i really like you. you're gorgeous and funny and so insanely smart. i’m an atheist but i’m praying to god you feel the same way. will you be my girlfriend?”
you bit your lip, breaking eye contact as you looked off into the distance. fuck. you were gonna say no and then he was never gonna be able to talk to you again and he was gonna have to change his name and move to canada…
“can i kiss you?” 
what.
there were a million things magnus expected you to say, but that was none of them. he managed to stutter out a simple “please…” and then you leaned forward and your lips were on his and magnus chase died.
this felt more like the end of his life than being knocked off a burning bridge and drowning did. his heart was beating a million times a second, and he seemed to have forgotten how breathing worked. your lips were softer than anything he’d ever felt before.
 he managed to reciprocate a little, mostly acting on instinct, and all he could think about was how astronomically better this was than jackie molotov in the seventh grade.
what was he supposed to do with his hands? he was pretty sure that keeping them at his side was the wrong answer, so he moved one to your waist and the other one to the back of your neck, tangling it gently in your soft hair as his lips moved against yours.
gods, he could have stayed like that until ragnarök, but his stupid sword had to ruin the moment. jack started buzzing on his neck sleepily, seeming to have been woken up ungraciously. he hoped that you couldn’t feel it, but that was pretty unlikely, considering how close you were to him. jeez, he was blushing more and more every time he thought about that. 
eventually, you pulled away, smiling a little. 
“good night, magnus.”
he nodded, unable to form words, and managed to stand up and walk back to his room, wide eyed, operating on autopilot. he walked into his room and immediately collapsed backwards onto the bed, staring at the ceiling without blinking, completely still. not a thought passed through his mind for at least ten minutes, till he finally was able to reach up and pull jack’s pendant off of his necklace.
“dude, what happened to blades before babes!?!”
65 notes · View notes
after-witch · 6 months
Text
Horrorfest: The Dead Speak [Smiling Man x Reader]
Title: The Dead Speak [Smiling Man x Reader]
Synopsis: Your mom always told you not to play with Ouija boards. Maybe you should have listened.
For Horrorfest request: A party game seance of ouija board. Nothing seems to happen, maybe the vibes change a little, but not much else. Until they are walking home and encounter a very friendly lost young gentleman.
Word count: 2210
notes: references to dead people and ghosts, reader is drinking/tipsy
Tumblr media
You were the only one who didn’t want to play with the Ouija board. Not because you had some deep-rooted belief in them, not really; you’d never encountered spirits or accidentally summoned a demon or anything like that after pulling out the Hasbro mass market produced party game.
But your mom had believed in them. She refused to let you bring one in the house, had adamantly reminded you before every childhood sleepover--”Absolutely no Ouija boards, my sweetness--and had even told one of your friends that they had to leave their mall-bought Ouija board hair bow in the car before they came inside for dinner.
No one else here seemed to have the same qualms, parent-induced or not, so you shrugged at being the odd one out and didn’t raise a fuss. Especially since the party was almost over, and all that remained were you, the host, and a few stragglers. 
It was Halloween night, after all--people just wanted to have fun. 
Which in this case meant the party host running around the house and shutting off all the lights while someone else dug out a bag of unused tea candles and began to light them. It wasn’t the brightest--no pun intended--idea. A fire hazard, for sure. Especially since most of the guests had already tackled the spiked apple cider and ghost-shaped jello shots, which were currently warming up your belly.
But you’d be damned if the candles didn’t make everything look dim and spooky. Your mind felt fuzzy from the darkness and the booze as you settled down with the group in the living room, scooting on your butt up to the coffee table where the board had been set up.
“Everyone knows how it works, right?” The host asked. Her deep red lipstick was smeared--from drinking or kissing--and she’d tossed aside her witch hat a while back. 
Of course you knew. Everyone knew. You put your fingers on the planchette and pretended that you weren’t moving it around while people asked questions. Inevitably someone would accuse another person of moving it and the fun would eventually dissipate. Or so you’d seen at slumber parties, while you dutifully sat on the bed and finished painting your nails or simply watched, hugging a pillow, wondering if it was betraying your mom to play with Ouija outside the house.
That was when  you were a kid, though. There was no deep-rooted feeling of betrayal now as you rested two fingers on the planchette. Only a vague sense of giddiness, spurned on by the alcohol, by the very existence of Halloween night. 
“Is there a spirit in the room with us?” The host asked softly. 
Was it your imagination, or did the candles flicker? They seemed dimmer, somehow. Probably because they were cheap tea lights. 
And then the planchette moved--probably the host, you thought--towards the most obvious (and fun) option: 
YES.
Someone giggled. You snorted, and wondered how many jello shots were left on the counter. You were going to walk home, anyway.
“Who are you?” 
“What if it’s a demon?” Someone asked. You couldn’t quite tell whose voice was coming from where in the dark. And you didn’t know everyone at the party, anyway, aside from the host and a few people who’d already left.
“Then we’ll ask him politely yet firmly to leave,” you said, giving your best Hank HIll impression. One person laughed, so at least someone here appreciated your ability to reference an unholy amount of TV shows or movies at the drop of a hat.
But the planchette didn’t slide across the letters DEMON. Instead, it shifted towards three letters in slow succession. 
M...O…M.
Something queasy turned over in your gut. The spiked cider and sub sandwich that had been sitting out too long, probably.
“Is anyone’s mom dead?” The host asked, then immediately gasped. “Oh fuck, sorry, that was shitty to say.” She glanced at you sheepishly. Your cheeks heated up and your stomach turned sour again.
Your mom was dead. But you probably weren’t alone, even in a small group. Cancer was a bitch and it took a lot of people, didn’t it? Ah well. You brushed aside that sour feeling and reminded yourself that your friend was drunk.
She cleared her throat. “Whose mom are you?”
The planchette started to move. The sound of the plastic moving over the cardboard was thin and dragging, like someone scraping their nails down a box.
Letter by letter, the planchette spelled your name.
You took your hands off the planchette and felt words fly freely out of your loose, alcohol-tinged lips.
“That’s really fucked up. Are you kidding me? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The host--your friend, if you would even call her that anymore--put her own hands up in defense. Everyone else slowly let their fingers fall away from the planchette, watching the exchange between you two in awkward silence. 
Party over. 
“I swear to God I’m not moving it. I’m sorry, fuck, you know I wouldn’t do that. I swear to God I didn’t.”
You scooted back from the table and stood up. You felt sober, suddenly, even though your spinning head from getting up too quickly said otherwise.
“Whatever. I’m out. This is just mean.” You shook your head, ignoring your friend’s protests--
And that’s when the planchette started moving again. 
Slowly. Letter by letter. With no one’s hands on the damn thing.
“What the hell?” Someone asked. 
You didn’t want to look. You wanted to get out of here. It was a sick prank, that’s what it was. But the planchette kept moving, and finally someone leaned over and began to sound out the letters, until they formed a sentence.
A sentence that made your bowels clench so hard you thought you would piss yourself. 
I TOLD U NEVER TO PLAY WITH OUIJA BOARDS
It couldn’t be. This was sick. This was wrong. 
This was…
“Mom?”
The words left your lips soft and shaky.  You weren’t sure anyone else heard them.
But then the awful planchette slid across the board again, and someone read the letters until they made sense; terrible, horrifying sense.
ABSOLUTELY NO OUIJA BOARDS, MY SWEETNESS
My sweetness. A nickname only your mom had called you growing up. She called you that to her last breath, wheezing and agonized. 
You leaned over and immediately retched onto the carpet, blobs of bright green jello mingling with chewed up pieces of Italian sub. Before anything else could be said, by the board or the guests, you ran, barely stopping to snatch your purse from the entryway, leaving as fast as your shaking legs could carry you.
--
The streets were dark and mostly empty. It was long past time for kids to be in bed, stomachs filled with chocolate and piles of Skittles, parents picking out their favorite candies to hide in the cupboard. All that was left were the late night party-goers walking home in varying states of disarray, carrying heels in their hands or making jokes too loudly in the startling darkness of the night.
And then there was you, head buzzing, stomach reeling, walking home after a Ouija board apparently contacted the spirit of your dead mother.
“Excuse me?” A man called out behind you.
You jumped, and slid your hands into your purse to wrap your fingers around your keys.  You knew it wasn’t going to do much, but it would do something, if it came to that.
You slowly turned around, grip on your keys tighter than ever, and saw a young man wearing a skeleton hoodie and sweatpants. 
He looked befuddled. He looked, more specifically, lost.
And he also looked… familiar. Was he at the party? You squinted, trying to clear your head. He might have been. Did he follow you to see if you were okay?
You definitely knew him from somewhere, but you couldn’t quite place him. 
Still, your fingers reflexively gripped your keys. He glanced down at your hands, then took a step back and put his own hands up where you could see they were empty. 
“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” He grinned a little, and shook his head. “I’m just completely lost and was wondering if you could help me. I didn’t bring my phone out tonight. Trying to live in the moment, you know?”
You swallowed, tasting the remnants of bile. Something about him, really--it was itching at the back of your scalp. Did he go to the same college? Maybe you saw him on campus. Or maybe he really had been at your friend’s house and you just didn’t remember. 
“Um,” you said. “Were you at the party?” 
He tilted his head a little, and smiled boyishly.
“Not quite.” 
Well, that wasn’t an answer. Your fingers loosened on the keys, though, as your heart rate returned to something like normal and you figured if he was going to try something, he’d have done it already. 
You blinked at him for a moment and then remembered what he said. “Oh! Uh, where were you trying to go? I can use my Google Maps if you want.”
It was hard to see from the streetlights, but you could swear there was a twinkle in his eye when you said that. Shit, maybe you were drunker than you thought. 
You fished your phone from your purse and after a few unsuccessful swipe attempts, brought up Google Maps. 
But… it wouldn’t load. That was weird. You didn’t have any bars--also weird--but you downloaded the local map just in case your 5G ever shit the bed. But the map wouldn’t load. It simply displayed a blank black and gray space in night time mode, refusing to let you bring up directions.
“Uhh,” you mumbled. “My phone is absolutely not working.” 
He didn’t look phased. He simply shrugged. “That’s okay. I actually live off Main Street, it’s one of those split houses… yellow and red and--”
“I know where that is!” You blurted. Then covered your mouth, messy lipstick and all. “I mean. If you want, I can walk you there. Unless you’d rather go alone, and I can just give you directions.” 
“You seem pleasant enough company,” is all he said. And you ought to have thought about that more, because it was a really strange way to phrase things, wasn’t it? But all you thought about was how creepily your night ended and how he looked pretty cute and maybe you could exchange phone numbers when you got to his place.
You walked, side by side, making idle conversation. He told you his name. You gave him yours. He said he liked your costume. You said you really liked his sweater, totally Halloweeny, and he seemed to genuinely appreciate the compliment. 
The streets felt more familiar the closer you got to Main Street, although there was still only the odd stray person or car slowly idling down the road. 
Anxiety still slept in the bottom of your stomach but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t so bad, to talk to a good looking stranger now and then. Especially after what happened at the party. 
(Was it really your mom?)
You didn’t want to think about that. About mom. About whether or not her spirit was hanging around in some ghastly limbo, chastising you for finally playing with a Ouija board like everyone else had done for decades. 
Eventually, you were there, at the driveway of the old house that had been split into apartments like so many others a few years ago. You fumbled with your phone and were able to ask for his phone number, lips curled into a smile, when he spoke.
“Did something happen? At the party? Something unusual?” 
Your awkward smile fell. 
“Um.” It would be weird to tell him, right? Especially after seemingly hitting it off on the way home. You didn’t just tell strangers that you maybe encountered a real ghost while using a Ouija board after doing a few shots and drinking questionably spiked apple cider at a friend’s house. Did you? 
“No,” you lied. “Just a boring ol’ Halloween party, I guess.” 
“Ah,” he said slowly. “That’s a shame. I thought it might have been an interesting story.”
You suddenly felt stupid and lame and why would this cute guy want to give you his number, anyway? You were some drunk weirdo who walked him home and that was that. You mumbled some sort of farewell and began to walk off, eager to get home and get into your pajamas. 
“You know,” he said, and you stopped and turned to listen to him. Maybe he was going to give you his contact information, after all.  “You should be careful with Ouija boards, my sweetness. You don’t know what you might invite in.” 
Oh. For the second time that night, you felt like you were going to vomit.
“Why did you call me that?  How did you--you said you weren’t at the party.” 
“I wasn’t,” he said simply. “Not quite.” 
How did he know, how did he know, how did he know?
And this mystery man in his Halloween sweatshirt, with his blonde cornfield hair and some awful, unknowable answers in his expression, simply looked at you.
And smiled. 
71 notes · View notes
cattailbouquet · 3 months
Text
TWF 4 Thoughts + Theories
TW: Suicide mention
This is quite long. I had a lot of thoughts.
I loved it! A huge part of what drew me to TWF in the first place was the bigger focus on the human characters, something that stuff like FNAF didn't have as much of at the time. And episode four DELIVERS. Imo, the best horror stories make you care about the victims and/or delight in the villain's terrible antics, and TWF does both super well.
Spoilers Below:
We finally met Charles! Him and Susan are fun to listen to. 
Banny continues to be a ladyfailure and smashes into a table. 
So apparently the facial recognition has always had an issue w/ Sophie? Huh.
The employee’s seeming disinterest in what's going on is a bit concerning? "I don't want anything to do with it." Charles I've got bad news.
Susan's death/undeath had been depicted several times already, which doesn't take away from what we see here. The Snap? The Breathing?? Those vile squelching noises??? The rabbit may be starving but I’m put off the next several meals.
"bon" was just as spooky as I'd hoped. I, among others, was under the impression that he was a representation of Bon's facial recognition system or A.I., but that doesn't seem to be the case, since we see him approach the robot? You horrible ghost man what is your deal. The happy little hand clasp Bon did after brutally murdering a woman was morbid enough to be hilarious. The scene of him talking to Susan in Wonderland was so eerie and sad.
Felix becomes a bigger slimeball by the second. He's so terrible in such a real way. The fact that he dug a grave for himself and then proceeded to back away from the cliff sums him up perfectly. He's too scared to take that kind of action on his own, but he'll dig a hole and wait to drop dead. Even in this, he will always choose inaction. Everything he does is to try to avoid consequences. He barely spares a second thought for the two little kids who loved him enough to call him "Uncle."
Edd and Molly are super cool. I was kind of expecting them to just hang around being scary and/or sad, but it looks like these two are going to be major players here. Bunnyfarm makes it seem like they're on board w/ the idea of Sophie joining them, but that might've been a misdirection. E+M might be opposed to the idea of becoming "beautiful"? Hydrogen bon vs. coughing babies.
Speculation/Ideas:
Does "bon" purposefully mangle the bodies in an attempt to push them into accepting becoming “beautiful”? Or is it a flaw in the Bon animatronic that “bon” is exploiting? Or both? Their faces don’t fit what the system says, so “bon” spurs the robot into trying to make them fit.
Edd seems weirdly ok with Susan wandering around the purgatory and needs to be nudged into action by Molly. I could see that causing problems later.
I had a feeling that Bon wasn’t Just Possessed By Jack. If it were that simple, Bunnyfarm would’ve been the perfect time to reveal it. If Jack is dead and connected to Bon, then he’s not the one at the wheel. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t dead at all. I have no clue why he would up and leave his family, though.
I could see E+M trying to stall “bon” by playing keep-away with the other victim’s souls, at least initially? They probably wouldn’t be successful with this until later down the line with Brian? Maybe? He’s the only victim who isn’t confirmed to be in an animatronic, nor does he talk about being “beautiful” like the others. We haven’t heard from him since episode one so this could easily change.
What oh what is that under the tarp? The little bedsheet ghost looking thing. A new friend, I hope.
All in all, a beautiful episode. Worth the wait! Can’t wait for 5+6!
32 notes · View notes
pinkrifle · 1 year
Note
Hello!! It's me again, I love thinking about what it's like to be a big sibling to the boys, so.. What do you think it would be like to be Stan and Shelly's big sibling? Like being a comfort person to both of them, being able to calm Shelly down when she needs it.. I love thinking about that...🫠
- 🩷🩷
— being stan/shelly’s big sibling!!
Tumblr media
cws/tw’s: none?
a/n: I LOVE STAN AND SHELLY THIS ASK IS SO REAL THANK UU !! i feel like i’m the ceo of big sibling hc’s for south park 😙🔥.. (which i have no problem being 🤞) and i do have a little bit of writers block so excuse the duration of time i’m posting these at :( thanks for your patience!
misc. notes: reader is g/n, writing is in hc’s since non specified,,, kevlly will be in purple text, and uhh thassit:3
Tumblr media
your probably randy and sharon’s last fave, hence being the oldest. which kinda drives you crazy but it makes shelly feel a little bit better about herself!!
if wendy ever breaks up with stan (for the 500th time) you always welcome him into ur room to sob and have multiple amounts of ice cream 🤭 if shelly makes fun of him for crying you give her that 😐 look and she backs off.
when stan get’s the spooky fish and dead ppl start appearing in his room you are the first to help him and hug/cuddle him when needed 💔 your also the first to dig into aunt flo’s purse and find the adress of the pet store.
you love when kyle and kenny come over!!! not much cartman,,, you make all sorts of activities to do when kyle and kenny come over and you make it a little less fun when eric comes 😙… stan does get embarrassed your hanging out with his friends and he tells you to shoo
you do worry for stan when he hangs out with cartman incase cartman gets him or manipulates him into something terrible.
during shelly’s outbursts you always take her in maybe like the bathroom or her room just to calm her down and let her cry on your shoulder or yell at you, just wanting the best for your little sister &lt;3
you do also treat her to ice cream since her braces do tend to hurt when she yells alot and you clean the spit off of her chest/shirt
when u and shelly were kids you wanted a pet pony so bad….. and when stan was born you guys tricked him into begging randy and sharon for a pony, your parents didn’t think it was that funny as you guys did 🤭
definitely give stan a bunch of advice on girls, boys, etc, if randy ever starts genuinely being a bad parent to you guys you’ll always spend as much time as you can with your little siblings.
if you guys ever were to get allowance you would divide yours amongst all 3 of you just to give them some extra, they are forever grateful (stan is jumping all over the place)
whenever shelly or stan get in trouble you always sneak up to them and try to talk to them if their upset, and you try to distract sharon/trick her into getting them out of trouble. you always keep them out of trouble anyways
when you babysit them it’s A RIOT, shelly screaming at stan, stan screaming at shelly, you end up just yelling at the both of them to stfu and sit down 😕 and that one time where shelly throws cartman against the wall while she’s babysitting him, you help him up (and slightly giggle,,,)
helping at tegridy farms when your siblings don’t wanna/can’t do it anymore, your still the least favorite child but with some dignity lol. (u definitely have tried some weed before and shelly n stan have smelled it on u, giving you a wtf look 😭)
always teasing them because your in higher grades than them, but u always help with their homework since you should already know it !!
if you and stan get into a fight he’s always the one apologizing (still upset but like, how upset could this guy be if u bring him dr pepper) and embarrassed the next morning. you forget about the fight and he takes a sigh of relief.
if you and shelly get into a fight, your always the first apologizing because she’s so damn stubborn. she tells you “whatever, it’s fine” and sends you out of her room, definitely acts like you didn’t even talk the next morning and gets all buddy buddy with you
whenever they wanna hang out with their friends, sharon tells you to walk/drive/watch them, it irritates all 3 of you because you just wanna relax, stan wants some alone time with his buddies (and not to get ripped on) and shelly thinks that she’s 13 so she’s old enough to be out by herself >:(
for my kevlly ppl (cuz i know i am <3) , when shelly brings kevin over your on cloud 9!! how could your sister, a meanie poo bag such an amazing guy? regardless, your happy for her and always bug the two of them, much to their dismay.
always “accidentally” walking into their room before a private moment and getting so happy when shelly tells everyone she and kevin had their first kiss 😙
you make them matching bracelets and they “hate it” (THEY DONT. ABSOLUTELY KEEP MAKING MATCHING STUFF FOR THEM 🤭🤭🤭)
Tumblr media
a/n: I HAD SM FUN WRITING THIS WOOHOO!!! i thought i would be slacking off but no i think this is a pretty decent length!! :) i hope you enjoyed this and if you want something more complex then don’t be afraid to ask! keep requesting yo i love it
99 notes · View notes
potatoeofwisdom · 6 months
Text
I’m so dogshit at art and writing but if I was better I would draw a comic of an au of Danny phantom where instead of the portal incident turning Danny into phantom, it gives him an affinity for the supernatural which leads him and his friends ghost (and supernatural adjacent) hunting because of sam’s egging on for them to bank on this opportunity.
But slowly, as the plot progresses, they realise that Danny didn’t just get kinda spookier and better at attracting spooky things. That he might be More Changed then they realised and it could even culminate into a big reveal thing where Sam realises that she’s actually responsible for permanently irreversibly changing her friend by making him get into that portal that day. Think of it as a kind of character arc for Sam kinda. Learning that her actions have consequences, especially since she’s a rich kid and she may still need to learn this lesson. And what better way to learn it then to literally kill your best friend lmao
Also this could lead to more level power sets between the trio and giving them all chances to shine on equal grounds, at least until Danny realises he’s less alive then he thought.
The accident would’ve hospitalised Danny but other then his heart stopping then restarting and various other spooky things he comes out the other side (seemingly) unscathed, which means Sam doesn’t feel as bad when she realises Danny can attract the paranormal now and therefore attempts to drag him and tucker ghost hunting with her.
Danny doesn’t get a transformation until much later on in the plot and the only physical indicators of his accident are maybe some white hair and occasional green eye flashes. Maybe slight bioluminescence in the dark, as a treat.
I love ectoplasm being spooky juice that can tear u apart from the inside so after the accident sometimes danny would have times where he would throw up ectoplasm and blood and stuff and see flashes of things he doesn’t understand. (Body horror woohoo!!)
Danny keeps a lot of the more gory stuff from his friends and doesn’t tell them about his ‘episodes’ or his weird hallucinations or anything.
The Fenton’s are just as Insane to everyone else as ever because ghosts are a little less in your face and only a pinch more subtle and spooky. I think the fentons would be slightly less intense tho, not too much because I love their insanity, but enough so it makes their threat to Danny as he slowly realises hes less human much more menacing and less slapstick.
In this the ghost fights would be less catastrophic and more spooky. There would be far less property damage but the risks instead would now be genuine horror movie possession, mysterious deaths, being tripped out of windows and stairs, blood on the walls, spontaneous heart attacks among many others. I’m not sure how to best explain the vibes i have in my head rn but the threat would still very much be there but it would be less solve-able through flashy fist-fights in the sky. Hell I’ve got an image of a house mysteriously being set ablaze.
Their methods for removing the ghosts would be far less sci-fi too and more like trying to solve murders to stop angry murderous ghosts and demon banishing with salt and jazz. Maybe Sam uses her occult knowledge and gets really into a type of witchcraft, maybe there’s an arc where she somehow learns more about her ancestors and the founders of the town. I dunno¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (not to say there’s no sci-fi at all- that’s a pretty fundamental part of danny phantom me thinks, I think it’d be more along the lines of ghostbusters logic tho maybe)
another cool idea: Danny sees flashes of a ghosts life when he enters their haunt or gets near them, and the ‘visions’ eventually show him their death. This can fuck him up or just be mildly traumatic whichever best fits.
I feel like even after getting his ‘ghost’ form there should still be several drawbacks. Maybe he’s less physical? Maybe he coughs up blood? Maybe he just doesn’t like being dead? Maybe he loses himself a little? Who knows! I don’t
A lot of thoughts about this but I’m not sure how to word it, so have at thee tumblr if anyone sees this
52 notes · View notes
ghostly-penumbra · 1 year
Text
Seven Ways to Summon the Ghost King
Chapter Two: The Friend of a Friend
[1] [here] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]
Ao3
Summary: Dean wants his brother's soul back. Danny is ready to help.
Warnings: Some blood and the aftermat of a fight.
- - -
Dean left the shitty store and Doc. Roberts’ shitty ‘office’, standing in the middle of the convenience store that served as a front for the doctor’s more arcane business. “This better work.” He said to himself. “Messorum evoco qui me titigit.”
“Dean? What the Hell?”
Dean turned around, meeting his reaper once again after all these years. “What do you know? It worked.” She seemed to remember him well, if her choice to go with her human-looking shape rather than her ‘spooky bed sheet ghost’ attire was any indication.
“I was in Sudan!” Tessa exclaimed. “What’s with yanking me ov-” She stopped, actually seeing his current state, “wait, why are you dead?”
Finally! To the point. “Tessa, I need a favor.”
“Oh, you’re kidding. You died to ask me-”
“Tell your boss I need to talk to him.” The hunter hastily interrupted. Only three minutes.
“No.” Tessa said immediately.
“Please?”
“Where do you get the nerve?”
“Desperate times.” That was as simple as he could say it, since he didn’t consider the bread aisle next to the rotisserie chicken to be the perfect place to talk about it.
“He calls for us.” The reaper finally explained. “We don’t call him.”
“You make an exception!” Dean snapped, his patience was wearing thin.
“I can’t!” But even a reaper had limitations. There were rules they were bound to.
“Can’t or won’t?!”
“Both!”
“Hey, um, sorry to interrupt, but you’re Tessa and Dean, right?” A lanky guy that almost looked like Tessa’s little brother interrupted and- wait, was he actually her Reaper lil’ bro or something? To be here with them in Limbo…
“Danny?” Was what she said instead, gobsmacked. “I mean, sir-”
“Danny is okay, really.” The guy said, putting up both hands in front of himself, as a placating gesture and to fend off the formality. “Anyway, Death sent me.” That caught Dean’s attention. “I’ll take it from here.” Danny told her kindly. “You can go back to work, don’t worry.”
Tessa looked back at Dean, lips pursed and finally nodded. “Behave.” She warned the hunter one last time before disappearing.
“So, who the fuck are you?” Dean demanded from the new guy. “Can you actually do something or do I have to ask for the big boss again?”
“Woah, calm down, man. I just got here. My names Danny, by the way. Death’s busy so she delegated to me. What do you need?”
Ignoring the odd pronoun, Dean went right back to the chase. “My brother’s soul is in Hell, in the Cage! While his body is up here being a fucking psychopath!” He was breathing hard, closing his hands into fists and then opening them again. “He’s down there being tortured by Lucifer and Michael and I… I can’t leave him there.” He looked up to meet Danny’s eyes.
Had they been green a minute ago?
“Where is his body?” He said with a chilling intensity.
“Why-”
“You said his body is up and about, I need you to keep it in one place. I don’t know how long it’ll take me, but I need you to keep his body in one place: where?”
“… Singer Savage, in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.”
Danny nodded. “Go there, lock up your brother’s body and wait for me.” He commanded firmly. “Understood?”
At Dean’s nod, Danny put a hand on the hunter’s chest and-
-Dean came back with a deep gasp, as his lungs tried to compensate for the time his body had been starved of breath.
“I have to go.” He sat up shakily, just in time to avoid a shot of adrenaline. “I need to-”
“Aw, this was the best part.” The goth chick next to him grumbled, syringe still in hand.
“Oh, boy, you’re alright! How did it go?” Doctor Roberts asked him, and Dean felt his heartbeat accelerate.
“It was- great. Awesome. And I have- I need to go back to Bobby.” He made for the door, but Roberts put both hands on his shoulders and sat him back down.
“Dean, you are in no state to drive. You just came back from the dead, you need to recover.” He said, handing him a glass of water of dubious origin.
“No! What I need to do is go back with Bobby and keep Sam in one piece- place, and quickly. Danny said-”
“Alright, big boy.” The assistant drawled, smirking. “No need to throw a tantrum. I can drive you there.”
Dean seriously considered saying Cristo right then, because the smile Eva gave him was nothing short of devilish.
- - -
Dean stumbled into Singer Savage, thankful he had left his baby back here, otherwise he feared Eva would demand to drive herself back. That girl really was hell in four wheels.
“Bobby!” He called, entering the old house and looking for the old man. “Where is Sam?!
“Over here, boy.”
As he walked towards the voice, he noticed the disarray the place was in, with broken furniture and stuff thrown around all over the place.
He found Bobby sitting in front of a big metal door nursing his flask close to his chest.
“What happened here?” He asked in concern.
“Your baby brother is what happened.” Bobby said, pointing at the door with his thumb and taking a swing from his flask in his other hand. “Fuckin’ tried to kill me and failed!” He told him, with the last bit thrown over his shoulder towards Sam’s cell.
“So he’s there? He’s trapped?” Dean looked through the small window, finding a dirty and bloodied Sam sitting on the floor glaring daggers at him with heartless –soulless– eyes.
“As well as ‘can be since we don’t have a human-trapping circle yet. You know, other than walls.” Bobby extended his hand and Dean took it, helping the older hunter stand up. “Did you make it? You got the deal?”
“Yeah, I- I got the deal.” He put a hand in his pocket where the ring-
The ring wasn’t there.
Had the kid taken it while Dean didn’t notice? How could Dean not notice? Had he tricked him into believing he would save his little brother so Dean would back off?
A lump formed in his throat and his knees trembled. Had he damned Sammy?
“Move over!”
It happened in a flash. One second he was questioning all his actions that led up to this moment and the next his life of obeying his father was kicking in and he instinctually followed the order.
The next moment, both he and Bobby had a lot to process.
Not just because a glowing, white haired kid with a bruised face caked with a green substance had just passed through the steel door dragging an equally bruised, equally glowing Sammy, but also because he had left another person behind, laid on the floor just as bloody and bruised but not glowing like them.
“What the hell was that?!” Bobby voiced their thoughts.
“Adam?” Dean knelt next to the still form of his half-brother. The surprise and confusion were clear in his voice, not only for the fact that Adam was there but for his current condition. Was he actually alive? Was this his dead body and had his soul already left?
A blood-curdling scream tore Dean away and back towards the door, where he only caught a flash of bright light through the small window before he could finally find both Sammy and Danny thrown on the floor, unconscious.
Bobby turned to Dean, confused, “Son, you better start doin’ some explaining.”
- - -
“So, this half dead thing, how does it work?” Bobby asked Danny, handing him another ice-pack, this one going to his split lip.
“Usually better than this.” The young man replied with a grimace. Young man. An adult again, while his other half had been just a boy. “Usually I heal kinda fast, but I don’t think that’ll be the case this time.”
“Because you took on two archangels.”
Danny almost doubled over laughing, but his cracked ribs and Bobby’s firm hand on his good shoulder stopped him from causing himself more damage.
“Easy, boy.”
“Sorry, it’s just- I didn’t ‘take on’ two archangels. I didn’t even face them! I just, got in while they were at each other’s throats, distracted, snatched up the guys, and turned tail as fast as I could when they noticed.
“If I had actually tried to fight them, none of us would have gotten out.” His face had sobered, looking at his bandaged hand.
Who had he been holding with that hand? Would it had been Adam or Sam who got dragged back to Hell? Bobby shuddered to think that. These boys deserved to be finally free.
Speaking of which…
“But you still went to the end of Hell and back to get ‘em back. And I owe you for that. Thank you.”
The boy blushed and ducked his head, shrugging. “It had to be done.”
“No, don’t.” The weathered hunter gripped Danny’s shoulder more firmly, but still mindful of his injury. “Don’t undermine what you did, kid. You saved these boys. So, again, thank you.”
Ha had saved Sam’s soul, and if his soulless body’s previous attempt at patricide showed something, it was that Sam saw Bobby as a father as much as Bobby saw him as a son.
And maybe he hadn’t raised Adam like he had his boys, but he still was so young, with a whole life ahead of himself. He would have to come to terms with his mother’s loss and the years he’d missed but if he had that Winchester stubbornness in him he would be okay. Eventually.
“If there is anything I can do…” Bobby offered again.
“Uh, actually…” Danny’s sheepishness turned into outright embarrassment. “I could really do with a ride home. My friends and sister are at college and I really don’t trust my parents’ driving.”
Bobby huffed out a laugh. Of all things he could have asked…
“Sure thing, kid. Do ya mind if I call someone to pick you up? I gotta fix this place, and I really wanna keep an eye on these boys.”
“No prob’, sir, just, generally speaking, if we could keep the ‘half ghost’ thing between the people here, y’know, don’t let word get out, that would be great.”
“Understood.”
- - -
Sam and Adam were still out cold, but alive. Dean had wanted to stay by their bedside, but Bobby left no room for arguing in that he had to thank Danny before he left for home. Home, which was his parents’ house in Illinois, when he wasn’t at college.
Was he seriously just some guy? Part-timing as a reaper… ghost… friend of Death of all beings.
Said guy was currently resting against Garth’s truck, eyes closed and face tilted upwards just basking in the sunlight after having gone to the depths of Hell and back. Because Dean had asked.
Yeah, he should thank him face to face.
“Hey.” He called out as he approached.
Danny looked back down and Dean finally got to see his busted lip and split eyebrow, which had been easier to ignore than the arm in a cast, but harder than the bad posture hiding his broken and bandaged ribs.
“Hey, man.” He said with a weak grin. “Ready to move on, huh?”
“Yeah, I already called my parents, told them I’ll be visiting… I didn’t tell them it’s gonna be a recovery visit, though, or they would have insisted in driving here.” Danny said with a grimace. “I’m just waiting for your friend Garth to finish talking with Mister Singer, and then we’ll go.”
Dean nodded along but on the inside he steeled himself, cowboyed up, and began, “Hey, listen, about Death’s ring, I know you already took it but-”
“I didn’t take anything.” Danny said calmly making the hunter pause. His expression was knowing and serene. “If you had something of Death’s that she wanted back, there was nothing you could’ve done to keep her from getting it back. Death is everywhere and you can’t escape her forever.” He said it so matter-of-fact and with such acceptance that it rankled Dean, who had already died and come back as well.
“Ok, well, then you still went to Hell and saved my brothers, and I know you told Bobby we owed you nothing and only want a ride home but-”
“Mister Singer owes me nothing, but you do.” The halfa interrupted him again, leaving Dean flabbergasted.
Was he really saying…? Well, it’s not like Dean wasn’t in the middle of offering anyway, but still…
The hunter nodded. “Okay.” He didn’t know what he was signing up to, but he had already sold his soul once to save Sam, and he would do it again if it came down to it.
“You don’t owe me because I saved your brothers.” Danny explained. “I’d have done that for free, any time. You owe me one for not telling your youngest brother that you didn’t even think of him when you asked me to go on a rescue mission to Hell.” Danny’s glare wasn’t hateful or even angry, just disappointed and disdainful.
Dean was still stunned, he closed his mouth then opened it again but no sound came out. He really hadn’t thought… hadn’t considered… fuck. Shit! Damn it!
He shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded again. He deserved whatever he got.
- -
Garth and Bobby wrapped up their conversation, and soon enough Danny was out of Singer Savage and headed back to Illinois.
They still had to deal with the angels’ war, and see what would happen with Adam, what he would choose.
His brothers were fine, they were safe for now, and they would get better soon.
Still, as he watched the back of the speeding truck get smaller and smaller, Dean was left feeling hollow.
- - -
The first bit of this chapter was directly taken from a transcription of "Appointment in Samarra", the episode where Death has Dean do his job for a day to teach him the lesson that murder is okay if done by someone better dressed than you! asdfghjklñ. I just added some descriptions.
There, Death asks him "which brother" to save from the Cage, since Dean tty forgot about lil Adam smh.
Let's just say that the setting (me, being the one to write this) demanded Danny to be Not Cool with that, so this is a little fix it. I did this for Adam and have no regrets. Youngest half siblings for the win!
128 notes · View notes
spaciebabie · 7 months
Note
spooky vamptrap time >:3c
(warning for kidnapping and hypnosis i guess?)
The dead leaves crunch under your boots as you wander aimlessly through the pitch black forest. You had lost the dirt road hours ago, along with your good friend Michael. Mike heard rumors about a creature roaming the woods at night and wanted to check it out, but reasonably didn’t want to go alone. You thought you had seen something off the path and decided to investigate, but you couldn’t find it. Next thing you knew you were lost in the dark undergrowth of the woods. 
Cicadas buzz in the distance, and ravens and owls keep to themselves in the trees. It was mostly quiet, almost too peaceful. You try your best to avoid roots and thorny bushes as you search for the way back, but eventually a root snags your foot. Your eyes shut as you brace yourself for the fall, but it's interrupted halfway. You feel a soft yet cold hand clamp down on your wrist, keeping you from falling face first into the thorns. As you’re pulled up back to your feet, you look up into the stranger’s eyes. You’re met with a pair of bright yellow eyes looming above you. From what you can make out in the darkness, he had to be at least 8 feet tall. 
He speaks in a deep, soothing voice, “Hello, what brings you out on a beautiful night like this?”
As you explained to him how you had gotten separated from your friend, you noticed that his hand hadn’t let go of yours since he caught your fall. Despite the darkness, he seemed to be watching your every movement as you fumble with your words.
“Well, I think I saw a young man walking by earlier. Would you like me to walk you to him?” The tall, shadowy figure offers.
“Sure, lead the way.” You sigh. You really didn’t have much of a choice. It was either getting more lost or letting this stranger lead you back to civilization. He keeps his firm grasp on your hand as he leads you through the woods, which seemed to get more dense as time went on. You couldn’t help but feel wary of him, it felt more like he was luring you somewhere with the promise of reuniting you with your friend. You decided that some questions needed to be asked.
“Who are you?”
“You may call me Springtrap, and what is your na–”
“Why are you out here?”
He stops walking, pausing as if to choose his words correctly.
“I was just enjoying a nightly stroll.”
You could tell he was lying. Nobody goes this deep in the forest for a walk, let alone at night.
Minutes later, he leads you to a large clearing. Stars speckle the dark canvas of a sky, with the full moon being the center of it all. As the two of you step into the moonlight, its silver glow reveals your escort. He was a tall, animatronic rabbit with long fangs and was wearing a black cloak. Behind him in the distance stands an old stone castle that looked abandoned and no Michael in sight. 
Before you can speak up, his arm wraps around your chest while his free hand clasps over your mouth. He holds you to his chest as he walks backwards to what you could only assume was this horrible thing’s lair. He grumbles in annoyance as you kick and thrash in his grip in an attempt to break free. After minutes of you flailing as he slowly tries to drag you away, he groans in annoyance as he moves his hand from your lips down to your chin. He tilts your head up to meet his gaze, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. His eyes were oddly soothing to look at, putting your mind at ease. All the different shades of yellow, gold, and orange in his eyes blended beautifully together. You can’t move your body to fight back as he scoops you up with ease. Your mind feels fuzzy as he walks to the castle, and the last thing you hear before you black out is a deep purr coming from his chest.
i felt like a little kid reading their favorite novel feet kicking back and forth in the air
15 notes · View notes
cookinguptales · 10 months
Text
and I guess if it's disability pride month and I'm already feeling stroppy
every time someone comes at me with that stupid petition to save the mütter museum it's like
*leans forward into the microphone*
you're asking me, a disability rights writer and strong repatriation supporter, to try and save the collection of stolen bodies displayed in dehumanizing ways that made a fortune off of marketing disabled corpses as quirky and spooky and fun.
you're asking me to support the organization that fucking bribed gravediggers and lied about being a family member so they could steal the corpse of the (currently not concretely identified) saponified woman and put it next to the gift shop where they (at the time) sold soap lady on a rope.
you're asking me to support the organization that let donators "adopt" the skulls in the hyrtl collection without seeing an ounce of irony when they knew, they knew, that most of that collection housed the skulls of the disabled, criminalized, and impoverished. when we have josef hyrtl's notes where he talked about how it was better to steal the corpses of POC because they're cheaper. when they knew that not one of those people had the equivalent of $200 spent on them in their lifetimes, and that their lives often could have been saved if people had, but they also knew that these people were worth more to the museum-going public dead than they were alive.
when we fucking know that josef hyrtl's tomb was encased in concrete so no other grave robbers could return the fucking favor.
you're asking me! to support a museum! that I visited for a class on the history of medical ethics! and I had to go inside via a locked-to-the-public service elevator, unlike all my classmates! because a museum making money off of disabled bodies didn't have a dedicated entrance for living ones!
fuck you!
the saddest thing about the mütter museum is that I think some people working there really are dedicated to medical education. they gave me space to cry during that field trip after I heard a kid tell her dad that the body of a man who'd purposefully donated his body to the museum for education was going to give her nightmares. a real fucking person. one who'd willingly donated his body, the best-case scenario for that disaster of a museum. and her dad just laughed. because that's the vibe they go for there.
it's fucking dehumanizing.
I'm not against medical education; I actually think it's super important. but I've been to medical museums all over the world now, and the Hunterian model is not an effective way to teach. (though it does make lots of money, and has since Hunter first started having tea parties to show off stolen organs in bottles to his fellow rich friends in his fucking living room.) there are so many ways to teach about medicine and the history thereof without displaying, again, mostly stolen bodies in jars.
the depressing thing is that they know that there. I know that because their modern temporary exhibits tend to be really good. they're respectful and they're interesting and they're well-designed and they're deeply educational. I saw a few during various visits I had to make for classes. their exhibit on the way that medicine changed during the civil war? great! fascinating. important.
but the fact of the matter is that no matter how much their staff tried to get me in that building without missing too much of the tour the rest of my class got (but I very much did miss some of it) and no matter how much their staff acknowledged my concerns and no matter how respectful their modern exhibits are, the lion's share of their collection is still based on turning stolen othered bodies into a sideshow. that's their main draw and it's how they make their money. there is literally no way to thoroughly modernize a museum with a ghastly history while that's the case.
so uh no. I won't be signing your petition.
Tumblr media
15 notes · View notes
go-to-the-mirror · 1 year
Text
Weaver time! I really do like this episode. If I'm being honest I like every episode - bar a couple stranger ones in season 3, they just weren't scary to me - so that isn't much of a surprise, but it's a pretty good one.
I'm also pretty tired, so... yeah? After this I'm going to go to sleep.
@a-mag-a-day
The concept of free will gets me pretty excited so enjoy the words!
This includes: love of Jon Sims, looking at Jon's life through the lens of "this guy ADHD", cat photo, musings on free will (good words), how are the tapes turning on, what does Annabelle mean about the statement summaries, musings on what the web is and "The Spider & The Eye" by pocketsizedquasar propaganda, discussion of Enid Blyton books, among other things.
DAISY (Quietly) Perhaps they bugged out. ARCHIVIST Was that a joke?
Asjdjshfhsjh I love him so much your honour. I want to shake him a little bit.
MELANIE I'm fine. Uh, a-and please don't call me Mel. DAISY What? Since when? MELANIE Always. I’m trying to be more open about this stuff.
Hnhrnhrh Melanie my absolute beloved <3 I'm glad she's getting better, that's good for her, you know. Being ok is really great actually.
ARCHIVIST I'm sure the flares will work fine. I mean, unless it's all some elaborate plot to have us burn this place down again. BASIRA So what if it is? ARCHIVIST I don’t follow. BASIRA I mean, anything we do could be part of the grand master plan. So, what, we do nothing? Just sit on our hands and hope that's not what the spiders want?
Jon's either incredibly impulsive or incredibly indecisive, which... A) Attention Deficit Hyperativity Disorder (the name is a misnomer, not a deficit, etc, i mean he's adhd though) and B) I mean like... that's sort of partially why he ended the world? I mean like grabbing this kid, dead parents, granny doesn't care about him - and yknow, a shitty childhood affects you, and with this Extra trauma, he'll be alienated from other people, due to the mundane things and because... you can't tell anyone about the spooky stuff.
And then he's already probably predisposed to be impulsive, to not think things through, and then ADHD it's... not a Great Time. Because of other people. You know, you're either too much or not enough, no one's ever going to like you so why try. With him it's like "I was an annoying child." "I was hardly an easy child to deal with." Like, not to sound like a broken record, but I see myself in that. It's not always malicious, but yeah, when you're always too much, too loud, too annoying, you internalize it, think there's something wrong with you, cut people off, don't... try.
Like, Elias's plan sort of depended on the Archivist and the Archival Assistants being... isolated. No one'll notice, or care when they die, or go missing, or change. And, I mean, yeah. He was pretty much alone. Is it an ADHD thing to have no best friends? Is it an ADHD thing to never wonder why you're alone? Like, he was closest with his assistant, who he suspected of murder, and his ex-girlfriend who he hadn't talked to in years. His work-life balance was terrible since before he discovered he'd work for life. Also ADHD ppl usually have a higher rate of substance abuse and addiction, because of the whole less dopamine thing.
This is getting so bloody off topic. Jon's combination fear of being manipulated and his impulsivity and inability to think things through, in addition to all the other things detailed above make him a great candidate for ending the world.
Sasha's too friendly, and we don't know enough about her to really draw any conclusions about how good of a (spooky) Archivist she'd be. I'd say she'd be a better mundane archivist but none of those people had anything even resembling a library science degree, and she was stapling things. Apparently you're really not supposed to staple things.
Melanie, I think, would be a great (spooky) Archivist, mostly because she's so similar to Jon. What with the whole chasing after War Ghosts thing, and being pretty prickly, and I think that she could have been an Archivist, Archivist!Melanie guys, come on, think about the possibilities! Also this leaves the door open for Flesh!Jon and I fucking love Flesh!Jon, but now is really not the time to get into that.
ARCHIVIST Yep. Official Institute paper and everything.
Official institute paper should be available as merch smh.
WHAT IF THEY HAVE PENS?? DO YOU THINK THEY HAVE OFFICIAL INSTITUTE PENS? THEYVE GOT TO RIGHT? OH THE POSIBILITIES OF NOVELTY STATIONARY!!
Free will is a funny old thing, isn’t it, Jon? Can I call you Jon? I’m going to call you Jon.
I mean, hey! It's an improvement on the other Avatars! He gets to be called a name! Lovely jubbly!
With any other animal, we talk about instinct, we talk about training. Perhaps, if we have spent enough time with them, we talk about personality. But we never talk about choice. We never look at a dog racing wildly after a thrown ball and think, ‘What an odd decision that dog has made.’
My cat, Marble, chases after things like a dog. He's so odd /pos, I love him so much.
Cat Anecdote (Catecdote?): Ereyesterday, early in the morning - so early to be basically still the day before - Marble climbed onto my bed and lay right beside me, and as I stroked him I realized how small he was - Marble's a mainecoon so he's a LOOONG cat - but, I realized that he's still just a cat, and as he purred as I fell asleep, I knew that I loved him more than anything else in the world. I love him so much.
Tumblr media
[ID: A photo of a cat, sitting down with one paw raised, looking at something above the camera. He's a tabby maincoon, and is dark brown, light brown, and grey. His legs are mostly dark brown, his stomach grey, and the rest of his body a mix of dark brown and light brown. /End ID]
Look I had to include a photo of him. Sorry, this was so irrelevant.
Of course, people are so very different from dogs. Our brains are larger, more complex; so many more little factors and wrinkles to push us and pull us. But does any of it actually constitute free will? Free of what? We all have forces that drive us, circumstances that direct us, and even if we choose to ignore these and act against all logic just to prove that we can, is that not simply allowing the existential terror of our own powerlessness to control us instead?
!!!
Look, okay, if someone knew everything, knew everything about you and everyone else and the world and everything, then theoretically, they would be able to know exactly what you'd do. We're all pushed and pulled by forces in our lives, no matter how unpredictable you are, there's always an underlying reason, and if there isn't... well there's your reason.
I was baking a while back, and thinking about this episode, and I realized that every moment in my life had lead to me, standing in the kitchen, thinking about The Magnus Archives, and looking for some kind of measuring cup, and I realized that whatever decision I made, if I took one from the drawer, or from the dishwasher, or left the kitchen entirely, that choice was not my choice, none of them were, my whole life has been preordained from the very beginning, not in some fate way, but in that everyone is affected by the circumstances around us, and this just makes what happened happen?
Yes, we're responsible for our own choices, but are they really our choices? If knowing everything makes them not - which I believe, it makes sense - then they are and were never our choices, free will is ignorance.
Not only can free will and omniscience not coexist, but free will has never existed, it's just a lie we tell ourselves, because it makes sense to us. Why am I lying on my bed typing this out? Because I wanted to. But no. It's because Sixteenthdays wrote The Hermit Archives AU, it's because my sister got into an unspecified university, it's because Ashes started a mag a day, it's because the pandemic happened, it's because I was curious about hermitcraft fandom demographics, it's because I have a computer, it's because of so many things, and none of those things were done randomly either. I presume Sixteenthdays is writing THA because they like both TMA and MCYT. A mag a day was started because The Magnus Archives was created, because the mods wanted to re-experience the community created from the episodes initial airing. My sister got into the unspecified university because we moved to unspecified country. And that's only a fraction of the factors that lead to me, here, talking about these factors.
Terrifying to think about, isn't it!
He ultimately decides that, if all the millions upon millions of factors and influences that weigh upon our choices were fully and completely known, then all could be foreseen and predetermined. But, he argues, it is quite impossible for the human mind to comprehend even a fraction of these, and in that vast, dark space of ignorance lies ‘free will’.
Come onnn Jonny, we had an omniscient character who's bloody terrified of being out of control, I really really do wish that we'd gotten more of this sort of thing in season 5.
Like I get why not, his omniscience has limits, we're more focused on other things, but there was a missed opportunity there, I feel.
Where would it fit in? Idk!
I think that one probably comes down to whether or not you’re choosing to continue reading this statement out loud. You didn’t mean to, did you? No, I’m sure you told Basira and Melanie that you were going to glance it over and report back. Perhaps they asked you if you were going to record it and you shook your head. “Maybe later.” That sounds like the sort of thing you’d say.
!!!!!!!!! oh boy!!
Do you think that's... exactly what he said? Because I think it's exactly what he said and he's just like Oh Boy!
But think about it, Jon, when’s the last time you were able to read a statement quietly to yourself without instinctively hitting record and speaking it aloud? Is it just instinct, habit? Or is it a compulsion, a string pulled by the Ceaseless Watcher or the Mother-of-Puppets? Or both?
That raises the question - are the tapes turning on by themselves, or is Jon (and by extension Martin and co.) turning them on unconsciously. The Web has shown an ability to... distract... people what with Jon and his lighter. Jon's also been shown to forget to turn tapes off a lot of the time, and Tim did mention that Jon was just reaching for the tape recorder when they were talking (MAG 98). I feel like that's actually more plausible to me than them just... turning on by themselves. The Web's all manipulation and stuff. Alternatively, it's Annabelle Cane hiding under Jon's desk /j.
I know the summaries have started to confuse you. Where do they come from when you read a statement fresh? How do you just sort of know what it’s about before you even start to read it? But by then, you’re away, the rollercoaster is dropping and you’ve no real choice but to hold on and hope that I don’t crash you.
I'm guessing this is referring to statements that haven't been read before, like MAG 123 - Web Development. That raises the question, though, what about the statement of Hazel Rutter? I mean, he obviously didn't know what was going to be inside that, and The Eye can't lie.
Actually, I think Elias, you know, he just put the summary there so it wasn't one of the spooky ones, but like he's already... tied in by the point where he's reading the summary. No turning back, already too deep.
Also that line, just, "hope that I don't crash you." Hmm. Oh, Jon, there really was no way to avoid it.
Of course, I learned many of my skills from my mother, who could wield guilt like a rapier and anger like a scalpel. She never simply screamed at you. She was always aware of exactly what kind of fury or disappointment was needed to make sure you regretted ever catching her attention.
Sure! Did Annabelle grow up to... sort of be a part of The Web? Yes, she did. Sure, maybe it's manipulative, but you know what? I've been called manipulative, I've been worried I'm manipulative, and if The Eye can be the fear of being both Watcher and Watched, The Slaughter the fear of the one getting hurt and the one hurting, The End the fear of the one who stays alive forever and the one who knows when they will die, then The Web can be the fear of the one being manipulated and the one afraid of being a manipulator.
She might not have been afraid, sure. What we know of Annabelle's childhood is from the perspective of her fundamentally changed - in more than just the regular way - from that. We just don't know what she was feeling before, we barely know anything about her.
Just read "The Spider & The Eye" by pocketsizedquasar, it's really good, the first lines of the summary live in my mind rent free.
Annabelle Cane has a choice to make. (Annabelle Cane is not sure what choice is anymore).
Like! Aa! Sahar has great words.
She had eight children, yet weaved that life around herself in such a way that she always seemed both the victim of it, yet curiously divorced from any responsibility. In many ways, she was the victim, at least of my father, whose pathological absence spoke of a man who had no interest whatsoever in engaging with the life where he had trapped his family.
Uh nothing to say, just highlighting it. Hmnhrnh good words.
My biggest attempt to assert some form of influence over my family was when I decided to run away.
I've actually packed a bag to run away before and let it be known I was much worse at packing than Annabelle asjdssjfg
and the only book I could say belonged to only me: Five Go Down to the Sea.
I was always more fond of The Five Find-Outers and Dog, and The Adventurous Four, though I did like The Famous Five. I also really liked Mallory Towers. George from The Famous Five is definitely the reason I'm trans.
I will simply say that when a spider reaches a certain size, it is not entirely made up of spider anymore.
Hey, what the fuck does this mean! :D
So, how much free will was involved in that story? What could I have chosen to change? Would a different path have been possible? I felt no loss of control – no puppet strings guided me – and yet the Mother got exactly the result she no doubt wanted, one that would lead to a fear of spiders so acute that would later have that horror focused and refined into a silk-spun apotheosis.
Isn't it more terrifying to not know for sure whether you're being controlled or not? To be frozen in terror and indecision, unsure of which action you will willingly take will be the one they want you to take?
The Mother is the fear of manipulation and lost control made manifest, so perhaps it is our fear that projects her influence on everything that happens, like the mind retrospectively assigning reason to our actions, so we fit whatever occurs into the neatest pattern we can and declare her web both intricate and complete.
But, the mind of the dreamer affects the dream, so perhaps she wasn't weaving her own web, but the fear of her weaving her web made it so she could and did! Aaaa I love this podded cast!
Or perhaps I am simply telling you what you need to hear in order to behave exactly as the Mother wishes you to. Perhaps I have never even seen a beach.
THAT ENDING!!! OH WOW THATS A GREAT ENDING!! I LOVE IT SO MUCH! JUST dont dont drop the mic it'll damage it, BUT DO SOMETHING TO A SMILIAR EFFECT!
(Shaken) That was, uh… I d-didn’t like that. I couldn’t…
Fuck, dude, he really is shaken.
Ahhh it's only going to get... worse.
I can’t say I’m sad to have another ally allegedly on our side, but I don’t like the idea of being important to The Web. That’s a really bad place to be.
IT SURE IS! Aaaaaa... :(
Annabelle’s right, though. I mean, I can’t trust anything she says to not be another lie to further manipulate and manoeuvre us, but deep down, I think she’s right. What I’ve been doing to these people, it hasn’t been because I was puppeted or controlled or possessed. I wanted to do it. It felt good. But at least I know I can stop. I just... don’t know how. I don’t want to stop.
Hey, I mean! Good for him right, he has all these people around him to help! They're going to be nice about it and not threaten him with murder, right!
Right?
No but, I mean, I'm not really, I don't really feel right talking about this, I don't have any experience related to it, I'm just pointing to it. Great words! Yeah!
Well, that's been a little ramble! Hope you enjoyed the cat picture if nothing else. He really is the light of my life. See y'all tomorrow I guess?
33 notes · View notes
ireadyabooks · 4 days
Text
Love Stories That Make You Feel Like: 🖤💀😱🗝️ 🌹
Don’t get it twisted, YA romance isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. These romance stories can get quite dark before you even know what’s happening. But maybe that’s exactly what you’re looking for! A romance full of brooding love interests, morally corrupt characters, and maybe even a splash of hair-raising dark academia vibes. If you’re willing to take a chance on these hauntingly seductive reads, then check out a list of some of our favorite dark and twisted YA romances below!
Your Blood, My Bones by Kelly Andrew
Tumblr media
A seductively twisted romance about loyalty, fate, the lengths we go to hide the darkest parts of ourselves . . . and the people who love those parts most of all.
Wyatt Westlock has one plan for the farmhouse she's just inherited -- to burn it to the ground. But during her final walkthrough of her childhood home, she makes a shocking discovery in the basement -- Peter, the boy she once considered her best friend, strung up in chains and left for dead.
Unbeknownst to Wyatt, Peter has suffered hundreds of ritualistic deaths on her family's property. Semi-immortal, Peter never remains dead for long, but he can't really live, either. Not while he's bound to the farm, locked in a cycle of grisly deaths and painful rebirths. There's only one way for him to break free. He needs to end the Westlock line.
He needs to kill Wyatt.
With Wyatt's parents gone, the spells protecting the property have begun to unravel, and dark, ancient forces gather in the nearby forest. The only way for Wyatt to repair the wards is to work with Peter -- the one person who knows how to harness her volatile magic. But how can she trust a boy who's sworn an oath to destroy her? When the past turns up to haunt them in the most unexpected way, they are forced to rely on one another to survive, or else tear each other apart.
Start reading Your Blood, My Bones now!
A Darker Mischief by Derek Milman
Tumblr media
The Honeys meets The Secret History in a work of dark academia like no other -- a boarding school thriller about a queer teen from Mississippi who finds himself swept into a world of old money, privilege, and the secret society at the heart of it all.
When Cal Ware wins a scholarship to an elite New England boarding school, he's thrilled to leave his past behind. Back home in Mississippi, he was the poor, queer kid who never fit in. But at Essex Academy, he'll be able to reinvent himself. Or so he hopes...
But at Essex, Cal's classmates only see his cheap clothes and old iPhone. They mock his accent, and can't believe he's never left the country, or heard of The Hamptons. Cal, at his breaking point, is about to give up and return to Mississippi when he learns about a secret society on campus -- the key to becoming Essex royalty.
Cal knows he's not exactly secret society material, but to his surprise, he finds an unlikely champion in the handsome, charismatic, and slightly dangerous Luke Kim. As they get swept up in the mystery and glamour of the Rush process, Cal finds himself falling in love for the first time.
But as the initiation rituals grow riskier -- and increasingly nefarious -- Cal must decide how far he's willing to go, and how much of himself he's willing to sacrifice, to save everything and everyone he cherishes most. Because nothing at Essex -- not even Cal's first love -- is quite what it seems.
Start reading A Darker Mischief now!
Sixteen Souls by Rosie Talbot
Tumblr media
The spooky, swoony YA debut by BookTok star Rosie Talbot (@Merrowchild) -- the "TikTok Made Me Buy It" sensation dubbed Heartstopper with ghosts! Perfect for fans of V. E. Schwab and Aiden Thomas.
Sixteen-year-old Charlie Frith has problems. His crush is dating someone else, his sisters have glitter-bombed his prosthesis (again), and he's a seer-of-spirits in York, the most haunted city in England, and all his friends are ghosts.
To make matters worse, it seems that famous spirits are mysteriously vanishing from York's haunted streets and alleys. Charlie is determined to stay out of it, but Sam, the irritating new seer in town, expects him to track down who -- or what -- is responsible and uncover the dark purpose behind these disappearances.
But when one of Charlie's ghostly friends vanishes, he has no choice but to face the shadows -- and his growing feelings for Sam. The boys must be willing to risk it all to save York’s spirits, because this adversary will stop at nothing to complete their devastating plan. Afterlives are at stake, and Charlie is running out of time . . .
Start reading Sixteen Souls today!
Beastly Beauty by Jennifer Donnelly
Tumblr media
From New York Times bestselling, award-winning author Jennifer Donnelly comes a revolutionary, gender-swapped retelling of Beauty and the Beast that will forever change how you think about beauty, power, and what it really means to follow your heart.
What makes a girl "beastly?" Is it having too much ambition? Being too proud? Taking up too much space? Or is it just wanting something, anything, too badly?
That's the problem Arabella faces when she makes her debut in society. Her parents want her to be sweet and compliant so she can marry well, but try as she might, Arabella can't extinguish the fire burning inside her -- the source of her deepest wishes, her wildest dreams.
When an attempt to suppress her emotions tragically backfires, a mysterious figure punishes Arabella with a curse, dooming her and everyone she cares about, trapping them in the castle. As the years pass, Arabella abandons hope. The curse is her fault -- after all, there's nothing more "beastly" than a girl who expresses her anger -- and the only way to break it is to find a boy who loves her for her true self: a cruel task for a girl who's been told she's impossible to love.
When a handsome thief named Beau makes his way into the castle, the captive servants are thrilled, convinced he is the one to break the curse. But Beau -- spooked by the castle's strange and forbidding ladies-in-waiting, and by the malevolent presence that stalks its corridors at night -- only wants to escape. He learned long ago that love is only an illusion. If Beau and Arabella have any hope of breaking the curse, they must learn to trust their wounded hearts, and realize that the cruelest prisons of all are the ones we build for ourselves.
Start reading Beastly Beauty now!
The Good Neighbors by Holly Black 
Tumblr media
From the amazing imagination of bestselling author Holly Black and acclaimed illustrator Ted Naifeh, comes  an astonishing graphic trilogy set in a faerie world, full of mystery, intrigue, and romance.
Rue Silver's mother has disappeared... and her father has been arrested, suspected of killing her. But it's not as straightforward as that. Because Rue is a faerie, like her mother was. And her father didn't kill her mother -- instead, he broke a promise to Rue's faerie king grandfather, which caused Rue's mother to be flung back to the faerie world. Now Rue must go to save her -- and defeat a dark faerie that threatens our very mortal world.
Start reading The Good Neighbors now!
2 notes · View notes
bunnysuitconman · 10 months
Text
TALKIN ABOUT THE NEWEST FNAF MOVIE TRAILER
or more likely, speculation on plot! if you haven't seen it then go go go don't get spoiled
OKAYYYYY SO IT'S REAL INTERESTING William is confirmed to be alive DURING the events of the film and at it since we already know that he's playing William afton, he's the one at the job office that mikey rings up. So i can guess that mikey took this job because he's trying to get to the bottom of his dads dissapearance, possibly death? of course to make ends meet is at the face of it but yeah. It would be pretty on brand for William to be just sending these people off to get slaughtered seeing how the animatronics react to several people on the premisis!
Also hey springtrap reveal, AND he gets his knife, with William being alive though, is it him inside the suit? Did william jump on the chance to kill his children because of their connection to him and the fact that mikey is out looking for him?
There is that breif sequence of shots near the end of the trailer too where there is someone collapsed on the floor behind the coffee table with silver heels and i wonder if thats Mrs Afton.
i do find it interesting that Mikey doesn't recodnise his supposed dads voice, i think it's been said that William doesn't have a british accent in the film, but also it could be that William left when he was very young, or he doesn't expect it because his dad is ment to be dead or something.
Also Abby? i don't know how Abby slots in with the whole thing unless she's either really not Elizabeth or they're planning on circus baby'ing her later, with the plot adjustments (and also the age rating) it's unlikely to me they're going to take a bridge into actual child death and not just already dead spooky kids. I do very much like the fact Abby makes friends with the animatronics or atleast golden freddy maybe perhaps because she figures out it's CC in there Still no idea what exact role Vanessa is going to play though this, since she seems like a branch into the more supernatural aspects of this, but seeing as she at one point gets hospitalised.......inch resting
my currant standing theroy is, mikey is trying to find out what the hell happened to his dad because he seemingly got away with crimes and then dissapeared, getting a job at freddy's is his best bet, he's trying to make ends meet because he's the single guardian of his little sister after their mother died. uhhhh animatronic stuff happens, childhood trauma reflection, abby probably ends up finding golden freddy and making friends? William gets tired of mikey being good at his job and decides to kill them both by himself in springbonnie. Mikey and maybe the ghost kids are probably going to get william in a corner and springlock him and the ghosts feel, a whole lot less murdery because their murderer just died. then after credits scene springtrap is back babyyyy it's time for fnaf 2 revenge of springtrap
14 notes · View notes
eunchancorner · 1 year
Note
PLEASE DO LER BOB AND LEE SKID AND PUMP!
So Bob is babysitting the two troublesome kids cuz Lila had some work to do and she started trusting Bob. The kids where misbehaving out of boredom and he had enough but instead of timeout he tickles them!
Tumblr media
Alright I get it /lh /nm
Ler Bob, Lees Skid and Pump
Warning: mentions of cannibalism, blood consumption
Word count: 1440
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Alright, Skid, Pump, I’ll be home soon. Bob, please, keep an eye on them. They’ve traumatized enough people for the year, they don’t need to be doing any more damage,” Lila told the three boys.
Pump had come over for a sleepover just before Lila had to leave for work, leaving her to find a last-minute babysitter. Thankfully, Bob Velseb, a man she’d known and trusted since she was her son’s age, had popped in to check up on her at just the right moment.
“Don’t you worry, I’ll keep an eye on these lil’ goobers,” he assured her, patting the tops of the kid’s heads.
“Good, and one more thing…” she suddenly pulled him down by the collar of his sweater, staring him dead in the eyes. “Don’t you dare feed these two human meat again.”
His warm smile turned to a stone-cold, almost emotionless expression, save for a bit of anger gleaming in his eyes.
“I got no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” he growled back, lying and they both knew it, but she didn’t have time to address it now. All she could do was hope he listened, and be grateful he refused to target the kids.
She let him go and stepped out, waving to the three as she did. Bob’s smile returned as quickly as it had left, waving back as the door closed behind her.
“Now, who wants to help ol’ Bob make some cookies?” he asked, turning to the smol kids, who quickly jumped up with the repeated yell of “Me! Me! Me!”
In the kitchen, and gathering ingredients for the delicious treats, Bob began to set everything out.
“Did you know, blood can be used as a substitute for eggs in baking?” he told the boys as he pulled out a water bottle, filled nearly to the brim with a bright red liquid that the two could only assume was blood. He carefully measured it into a measuring cup and added it to the dough, mixing thoroughly until it had little more than a reddish tint.
“Woahhhh, that’s so cool!” Pump crowed as Bob showed them.
“We’re making blood cookies!” Skid cheered.
Bob chuckled at the two’s enthusiasm as he began scooping the cookie dough onto the baking sheet.
“Why yes, I suppose we are.”
After sticking the cookies in the oven, the three came out to the living room, Bob putting on a horror movie while they waited for the cookies to bake.
“Bob?” Skid eventually piped up, turning from his spot on the floor to look at the man on the couch.
“What’s up, kiddo?”
“Do you like the Spooky Month? Mom says you might not like it, since it gives you bad memories… but that’s not a reason to not like it, right?”
Bob’s face fell for a moment before forcing a warm smile back onto it. Don’t be a sad bastard in front of the kids.
“Nah, I like Spooky Month just the same as everyone else in this town. I ain’t special in that,” he assured the skeleton-clad boy with a small head pat.
“Good, because I love the Spooky Month! It’s the best month in the whole year, because we get to dress up, and get candy, and see all our friends! Outside of school!” he droned on excitedly, Pump catching on and popping up beside him.
“Plus the stores start filling up with pumpkin-flavored things, like pumpkin pie, and pumpkin cookies, and pumpkins! And we get to do the spooky dance!” he added, practically fizzing with the same energy and enthusiasm as his best friend.
“That’s-”
Suddenly the oven dinged, cutting off Bob’s response, making him get up.
“Hold that thought, kids,” he told the two as he headed into the kitchen to get the cookies.
Skid slumped down onto the floor, crossing his arms and huffing angrily.
“I wanted to show him the spooky dance!” he whined, mad at the oven for going off ‘too soon.’
“So did I…” Pump mumbled, sitting beside him. Suddenly, like a switch, an idea lit up in his brain and he turned to Skid, only to see him looking back. They’d had the same idea at the same time, and what a fun idea it was.
~~
Bob hummed quietly as he took the cookies out of the oven, setting them on the stovetop above. The smell filled the air and made his stomach growl, and it took every little bit of willpower he had not to eat one now and burn the shit out of his mouth. Instead, he turned to the mess of a kitchen he had neglected to clean up earlier and sighed, deciding now was as good a time as any to get it done.
After about 15 minutes of cleaning up, he turned to put away the last item, the whisk. However, there was one minor little problem.
Where the fuck did it go?
The whisk had disappeared, leaving Bob a confused man standing in a clean kitchen as he searched around where he’d left it. It hadn’t rolled off the counter, or been put away already, or tossed in the sink filled with soapy water. It wasn’t on the table nor under it, and it hadn’t found its way into the cabinets. So where was it?
Suddenly, he heard giggling. Faint, but it was definitely there.
Did they take it? he asked himself as he followed the sound, until, sure enough, he saw the two hiding on the couch, Pump holding the whisk tightly in his hands. A small smirk crossed his face as an idea bloomed in his mind, and he crept silently towards the couch, keeping his mouth shut until…
“WHAT’RE YOU DOIN’?!” he bellowed as he scooped them both up from behind the couch, eliciting spooked but delighted squeals from them both as they were lifted into the air before it was squeals of laughter as Bob easily tickled each belly with one hand.
“Did you two lil goobers really think I wouldn’t notice you’d taken the one thing I hadn’t put away yet?”
“Ihihi dihihidn’t tahahake ihihit!” Skid protested, attempting to curl up around Bob’s hand.
“IHIT WAHAHAS YOUHUHUHUR IDEAHAHAHA!!” Pump squealed out, obviously far more affected by the tickles.
“Ihit was nohohot!”
“Now, now, no more arguin’. How about you both agree ya messed up and give me that whisk back so I can clean it off? Then we can have some nice, warm cookies.”
“Nohohoho!” “NEHEHEVEHER!!”
“Suit yourselves, guess I gotta use the ol’ persuasion method.”
Suddenly, he plopped down onto the couch, pinning Pump to it with one hand and squeezing at his side, making his cackles die down to giggles, while holding Skid up in his other arm his hand poised at the ribs, making him stuck in the giggles he was in before purely out of anticipation.
“Now, Pump, you can either give me back the whisk now, and I’ll stop ticklin’ you, or, keep it, and your little friend gets it~”
“Gehe- gehets whahahat?” he asked out of sheer curiosity. He knew Skid could handle a lot, so he wanted to see what Bob thought could break his bestie.
Bob merely smirked before he started blowing raspberries on one side of Skid’s ribs, his hand scribbling over the other side, causing Skid to squeal and cackle at the mismatched and maddening sensations.
“PUHUHUMP! GIHIVE IHIT TOHOHO HIHIHIM!! GIHIVE IHIT BAHAHACK!!”
“Whahat hahahappehened toho neheveheher suhurrehehendeher?”
“SUHUHURREHEHENDEHEHER!! SURREHEHENDEHEHER!!”
And, sure enough, Bob felt something small smack into his leg, a single look revealing it was the wire whisk the two boys had made off with, and he released the two from their ticklish captivity. Grabbing the whisk, he left the two alone on the couch to cuddle up and regain their composure as he was finally able to clean and put away the utensil. Soon enough, he returned to two little cuddlebugs on the couch, plate of cookies in hand, and settled down beside them.
“Cookie?” he offered to them, lowering the plate so they could each take some, before grabbing one of his own and biting into it.
“Blehhh, it tastes like metal!” Skid complained.
“It’s like sucking on a penny,” Pump agreed, Bob merely rolling his eyes at their dramatics.
“Oh, quit your whinin. Tastes good to me…” he mumbled, munching yet another cookie. It tasted just enough like blood to him to keep him satiated enough to not kill the kids, not that he could ever bring himself to. There was just something about these kids, he could never hurt them. Like some kind of weird vibe to them.
Weird kids.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two birbs with one stone lets go
27 notes · View notes
richincolor · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Today I thought it would be fun to highlight three books that came out earlier this year that all had intriguing covers. Have you read them? What book covers have caught your eye lately?
When You Wish Upon a Lantern by Gloria Chao Viking
Liya and Kai had been best friends since they were little kids, but all that changed when a humiliating incident sparked The Biggest Misunderstanding Of All Time—and they haven’t spoken since.
Then Liya discovers her family's wishing lantern store is struggling, and she decides to resume a tradition she had with her beloved late grandmother: secretly fulfilling the wishes people write on the lanterns they send into the sky. It may boost sales and save the store, but she can't do it alone . . . and Kai is the only one who cares enough to help.
While working on their covert missions, Liya and Kai rekindle their friendship—and maybe more. But when their feuding families and their changing futures threaten to tear them apart again, can they find a way to make their own wishes come true? -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads
Delicious Monsters by Liselle Sambury Margaret K. McElderry Books
Daisy sees dead people—something impossible to forget in bustling, ghost-packed Toronto. She usually manages to deal with her unwanted ability, but she’s completely unprepared to be dumped by her boyfriend. So when her mother inherits a secluded mansion in northern Ontario where she spent her childhood summers, Daisy jumps at the chance to escape. But the house is nothing like Daisy expects, and she begins to realize that her experience with the supernatural might be no match for her mother’s secrets, nor what lurks within these walls…
A decade later, Brittney is desperate to get out from under the thumb of her abusive mother, a bestselling author who claims her stay at “Miracle Mansion” allowed her to see the error of her ways. But Brittney knows that’s nothing but a sham. She decides the new season of her popular Haunted web series will uncover what happened to a young Black girl in the mansion ten years prior and finally expose her mother’s lies. But as she gets more wrapped up in the investigation, she’ll have to decide: if she can only bring one story to light, which one matters most—Daisy’s or her own?
As Brittney investigates the mansion in the present, Daisy’s story runs parallel in the past, both timelines propelling the girls to face the most dangerous monsters of all: those that hide in plain sight. -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads
Harvest House by Cynthia Leitich Smith Candlewick Press
Deftly leading readers to the literary crossroads of contemporary realism and haunting mystery, Cynthia Leitich Smith revisits the world of her American Indian Youth Literature Award winner Hearts Unbroken. Halloween is near, and Hughie Wolfe is volunteering at a new rural attraction: Harvest House. He’s excited to take part in the fun, spooky show—until he learns that an actor playing the vengeful spirit of an “Indian maiden,” a ghost inspired by local legend, will headline. Folklore aside, unusual things have been happening at night at the crossroads near Harvest House. A creepy man is stalking teenage girls and young women, particularly Indigenous women; dogs are fretful and on edge; and wild animals are behaving strangely. While Hughie weighs how and when to speak up about the bigoted legend, he and his friends begin to investigate the crossroads and whether it might be haunted after all. As Moon rises on All Hallow’s Eve, will they be able to protect themselves and their community? Gripping and evocative, Harvest House showcases a versatile storyteller at her spooky, unsettling best. -- Cover image and summary via Goodreads
16 notes · View notes