⋆˚꩜｡ this morning I woke up with this image of these two together on a case or just in general. On one side, there’s Billie Dean Howard, sharp-tongued and intuitive, a woman whose belief is more metaphysical than religious. On the other, there’s Lorraine Warren, a woman of faith, certain that her gift is something divine, a calling from God.
I can't help but imagine how fun they'd be together, bickering and bonding in equal measure. ⋆˚꩜｡
(a plus would be having r involved)
𖤝
Billie Dean’s lips curved into a grin, as she took another drag of her cigarette. “Do you pray after every job?”
Lorraine turned toward her partner, a glint of amusement in her blue eyes. “And do you need to smoke before and after every job?”
Billie let out a quiet snort. “Touché, I guess.”
Lorraine only smiled, stepping closer. She knew smoking was Billie’s way of coping with everything, but sometimes she wished it wasn't. With a gentle motion, Lorraine plucked the half-burned cigarette from her lips.
“Hey, I wasn’t done with that!”
Lorraine ignored her, smirking. “Well, now you are.” She eased the cigarette into the ashtray and tapped it once.
Billie lightly shook her head, a faint grin curving her lips, “you always do that...”
“Do what?” Lorraine asked, searching her face.
“Worry about me.”
The clairvoyant let out a quiet huff of laughter, cheeks flushing with affection. “Someone's got to do," she murmured, voice low and velvety.
Billie leaned in, with a knowing hum. Her grin softened into something more tender. "Well, I'm glad it's you."
Lorraine matched her smile, letting her forehead rest against hers. "So am I.”
"Friction in the relationship creates a negative energy—fuel for whatever's here to feed on," Dad said as we walked down the hall. I sighed and nodded.
"It thrives on fear, latching onto that negativity, mocking it, twisting it. It's a cycle," I added.
Rose spoke up next. "And it's using that energy—to mess with the clocks, knock down pictures, open the front door, scratch the cellar walls. Maybe even the birds. Maybe not."
"Well, it's working," Carolyn muttered, pushing open a door. Inside was a neatly made bedroom with a single bed, a wardrobe, and hardwood floors. She hesitated before speaking again. "This is where Andrea had that experience on the bed."
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"How do you know when they're around?" Andrea asked. We were in the living room—just the two of us. Mom was with Cindy, Dad was recording with Carolyn in the kitchen, and Rose was outside with the other girls.
"I get goosebumps," I admitted. It was like stepping into a freezer in a warehouse—cold and sudden.
Andrea ran her hands over her arms. "So if I get goosebumps... does that mean they're near me?"
"Maybe. Can you tell me what you've seen?" I asked, clasping my hands in my lap.
"I'm not sure what it was," Andrea murmured. "My mom thinks it's the thing scratching at the cellar door." After our conversation, I let Mom know where I was going and headed outside.
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"Whatcha doin'?" Rose sat on the ground with the other girls, a delicate flower crown perched on her head.
"Checking out the barn," I replied. She didn't hesitate to get up and follow me.
The dark red barn loomed ahead, and as we stepped inside, I pulled the heavy door shut behind us. My eyes landed on a flashlight sitting on a nearby shelf. I grabbed it and flicked it on, sweeping the light over the cavernous space.
"This place isn't good," Rose muttered.
I nodded. "Tell me about it. How the hell do we let her down easy? Five kids, a haunted house, a shitty husband... those girls are terrified." I truly felt for the Perrons. How could they live like this every day? I wandered toward the back of the barn, mid-conversation, when Rose's voice suddenly cut off. Like she had trailed off mid-sentence.
I turned—expecting to see her—but she was gone. My breath hitched. As far as I knew, there was no rope inside the barn. But when I turned again, I saw them—legs dangling. A dress skirt swaying slightly.
"Holy fucking shit," I whispered. A girl hung from a rope tied to one of the rafters. Her neck twisted at an unnatural angle, eyes seemingly locked onto mine. I stumbled back, heart hammering. Frantically, I turned to the door and tried to shove it open. It wouldn't budge. "Open the door!" I shouted, banging my fists against the wood. "This isn't funny! Rose! Rose, where are you? Let me out! Please!" Behind me, the body began to sway. Panic surged through me as I pounded harder, screaming for help.
Then, suddenly—the door burst open. Rose stood there, wide-eyed. I stumbled forward, spinning back to the barn. She was gone.
"What the hell?" Rose whisper-yelled, gripping my shoulders. She was just as shaken as I was.
"Rose," I rasped, "the woman in the cellar wasn't the only one who died here. Someone hung themselves in the barn."
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We sat around the kitchen table—Mom, Dad, Rose, Carolyn, and me. We had no choice but to tell them what I saw. It was their house, after all.
"Do you think she's the same one Cindy saw?" Carolyn asked, hands folded over the table.
"I don't know," I admitted, still trying to make sense of it.
Dad exhaled. "When these things invade a home, sometimes it's because something invited them here."
Rose nodded knowingly. It wouldn't be the first time we'd seen a case where teenagers held a "harmless" séance and unleashed something far worse.
"I've asked the girls, but we need to know—have either you or your husband ever practiced any kind of Satanic worship? Anything involving the occult?" Mom asked.
"My God, no," Carolyn responded, face contorting with both shock and disgust.
Rose leaned forward. "People dabble. They think it's just a game—play with a Ouija board, hold a séance—and before they know it, they can't get rid of what they called upon." She glanced at me, a silent acknowledgment of our own past mistakes.
"With what Lizzie saw in the basement, this house might have been a satanic shrine at some point," Mom said. "Do you know the history of the farm?"
"Just that it was built in the late 1800s. We bought it at an auction through a bank trust. Never knew who the owners were," Carolyn sighed. "I always wanted to live in the country. I thought it would be safer than the city." I swallowed hard. I wished it were that simple.
"This house needs to be exorcised," Rose said. "But for that, we need the church to authorize a priest."
"I'm fine with that," Carolyn said, though her voice wavered.
"It's not that easy," I said. "We have to provide proof that something is really happening here."
"Why?"
"Because it doesn't always show itself when we need it to," Mom explained.
Carolyn glanced between us. "And if we can't prove it?"
"Then we don't have the church," Dad said grimly. Carolyn sighed. Poor woman.
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At the front door, we prepared to leave. Dad held the kitchen clock in his hands, examining it carefully. "What's your faith?" he asked Carolyn.
"...I was raised Methodist, I guess," she said with a shrug.
"Have your children been baptized?" I asked.
"No, we're not really a church-going family," she admitted.
Rose shook her head. "You may want to rethink that. Without faith, you have no protection."
Dad met Carolyn's uncertain gaze. "Our presence here could make things worse."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because we're a threat," he said simply. "And whatever's here? It won't like that."
A wave of emotion flickered across her face.
"This is your home," Mom assured her gently. "And Ed, the girls, and I will do everything we can to make sure it stays that way. No one likes uninvited guests, okay?" Carolyn nodded as Mom pulled her into a hug.
"We'll talk to the historian in the morning, see what we can find," Dad added. "It'll be a few days before we return. We need our tech guy available, and someone to film everything." I glanced up. Cindy and Andrea stood at the top of the stairs, watching us with worried expressions. Let's just hope for the best. Everything's going to be fine.
Summary: Well... This one is a weird one. This is an anthology about two souls who meet in different places through dreams and shifting. One is Arne and the other is you...
Warnings: fluff, smut, and more?
One day I woke up not knowing where I was or how I got there.
There was a note on the nightstand that said:
"Don't worry, you're safe, this is a dream - please come to the kitchen."
I got up and looked out the window and saw red brick houses and people passing by.
I didn't know where I was but I wasn't scared; I felt strangely at home.
I went into the kitchen, where the smell of Earl Grey filled the room, and there he was, standing next to a plate of toast.
-Arne...? I whispered.
He looked at me and smiled.
I'd tried for weeks to see him again in my dreams, but it never worked out, until now.
-I was looking for you, he said.
-How? I asked him.
Then he told me about shifting.
-And what is this place? I asked again.
-This is where I'd have lived if I'd done that study abroad year. I think we're in Ireland.
He walked up to me and handed me a cup of tea. I looked at him in amazement.
-Whose dream is this? I asked.
-I honestly have no idea. I tried to forget you after that night, but you stayed in my mind. I'm not even sure if this is a dream.
He looked so real, so alive. It felt like this was happening in the real world.
In another world.
One I needed to find out more about.
I felt myself wanting to touch him again, but I didn't dare. This time he was too real.
I shook my head and looked into my cup.
-I need to know what's happening to us here, I said.
-I heard about this shifting thing on Tak-Tok," he said.
-You mean Tik-Tok? I asked with a little laugh.
-No, Tak-Tok. Here, look.
He showed me his smartphone, and the app was called Tak-Tok. It was the exact same app like ours, just with a different name. Then I looked at the other apps: They all had different names.
-I don't see Facebook, I said.
-Never heard of it," he replied, putting his smartphone back in his pocket.
His eyes stayed on me throughout the conversation, and I could sense that he was trying to read me. I felt ashamed of my behavior in the nightclub again. I knew he remembered it. This time I was more myself, the shy girl.
-Are you blushing? he asked.
-No,' I replied, confused.
His fingers caressed the cup I was holding.
-I like seeing you blush. That's charming, he said.
I looked down at the floor and blushed again.
He took the cup from my hand.
-Do you feel comfortable with me? he asked.
I nodded, I felt comfortable.
His hand moved towards me and he lightly touched my arm, I could feel the warmth of his touch. It was the same feeling I'd that night at the nightclub.
He took my hand and led me into the bedroom. I got lost in the small details of the room: on the wall hung a symbol in the shape of a circle with a line in it. I felt my pulse quicken. He pulled me closer to him and held me in his arms.
I could feel his soft kisses on my neck, it felt so natural. I closed my eyes. I was lost in this moment. I wanted it to stay that way forever. It was a world I never wanted to leave.
-That's very strange," he whispered.
-I know,' I said in a low voice. I don't understand how it works.
I heard the sound of running water in the bathroom and he let go of me.
-Do you hear that? he asked and walked out of the room.
I heard the sound as well. I followed him into the bathroom where we both found the bathtub full of warm water.
It smelled like English roses, and my heart began to beat faster. In my head, all the thoughts I had about him were jumbled.
He turned off the faucet and we stood there together just looking into the water.
-Do you wanna get in? he asked me in a soft voice.
I nodded, and he stepped into the warm water first, lifting and moving his body so I could get in too. He leaned back against the edge of the bathtub, and I felt his breath in my hair.
-That's nice," he said.
I felt his body nestle against mine, and I leaned into him. I felt his warmth, and that was all I wanted. We stood like that for a while, silently lost in the moment.
I felt his hands on my body, his lips on my neck, and I closed my eyes. I knew I'd have to leave this world soon, but I didn't mind.
He pulled me closer to him, and I felt his body press against mine. I felt the hardness of his body, and my pulse began to race. I felt the pull of his body, his desire under my skin. It felt so good. I closed my eyes and felt the length of him.
-I want you," he whispered in my ear.
I could feel him at the entrance of my body, he thrust and I adjusted my position.
He moved, pressing himself harder against me, I felt him sliding in deeper and I moaned. I closed my eyes in pleasure at his intrusion and felt a wave of warmth spread through me.
I opened them again and saw him looking at me, the expression on his face was beautiful. He slowly moved his hips in a rhythmic motion. I felt his fingers rubbing against my clit and arched my back in pleasure.
-Ohhh, he said.
I felt the waves of pleasure shoot through me and I moaned.
His eyes were on me and he looked so satisfied. I closed my eyes again and let the pleasure take me. I felt like I was floating on a cloud.
-I don't want to go back," I said, feeling myself fading.
-We'll meet again," he whispered.
That was the moment when I felt the pleasure suddenly stop, my body went numb for a while and when I opened my eyes I saw nothing but the white ceiling of my real bedroom.
