#trailbit

[bledthrus-arc]

@trailbit   ♱   from  here.

marcus  had  sort  of  hoped  for  an  outright  denial  of  his  worst  fears.   had  hoped  that  maybe  he  was  just  being  ridiculous  and  that  jason  would  just  brush  it  aside  and  ease  his  anxieties.   and  yet,   there  is  still  something  oddly  comforting  in  this  response.   to  be  treated  like  he's  not  so  crazy  for  the  odd  feelings  that  have  been  trickling  up  the  length  of  his  spine  at  the  most  inopportune  of  moments.   he  sighs,   runs  his  hands  through  his  hair.   says  a  brief  prayer  in  his  mind  that  this  eerie  feeling  will  be  a  quick  fix  and  he'll  be  able  to  go  about  his  life  no  longer  looking  over  his  shoulder  anymore.

he  shifts  in  the  way  he's  sitting  to  allow  jason  to  rifle  through  his  pocket  for  his  pack  of  cigarettes,   practiced  in  the  simplicity  of  it.   ❝  chills,   i  guess,  ❞   he  answers.   really,   what  isn't  it  at  this  point ?   ❝  cold  spots  in  my  apartment,   too.   like  they  say  in  all  those  ghost  movies.  ❞   he  shakes  his  head,   grimaces  at  the  thought  of  it.   he  plucks  a  cigarette  out  of  his  pack  procured  by  jason,   sticks  it  in  between  his  teeth.   ❝  and  you  know  i  don't  mess  around  with  all  that  paranormal  mumbo  jumbo.   it's  the  work  of  the  devil,   that's  what  my  momma  always  said.   she  didn't  even  like  us  dressin'  up  fer  halloween,   y'know.   said  it  was  next  to  invitin'  the  devil  himself  into  our  home.  ❞   his  mother,   ever  the  skeptic  about  the  paranormal  and  yet  still  fearful,   on  the  off  chance  that  it  might  all  be  real.   it's  one  of  the  many  quirks  marcus  has  inherited  from  her.

it's  as  he's  tugging  his  lighter  from  his  back  pocket  when  he  remembers  another  detail.   the  worst  of  it,   really,   if  you  were  to  ask  him.   he  lights  his  own  cigarette  before  passing  the  lighter  over  to  jason.   ❝  and  you  know  what  else ?   i've  been  noticin'  my  kitchen  gettin'  rearranged.  ❞   his  kitchen,   a  holy  site  within  the  confines  of  his  small  apartment  in  the  city.   his  kitchen  is,   and  always  has  been,   his  safe  space.   the  one  room  that's  always  been  off  limits  to  guests,   for  fear  that  someone  might  touch  anything  in  his  meticulously  organized  system  and  force  him  into  completely  rearranging  just  to  make  sure  everything  is  completely  perfect.   marcus  sighs  as  he  takes  a  slow  drag  of  his  cigarette.   ❝  and  you  know  no  one's  allowed  in  there.   and—   and  it  ain't  like  it's  ever  a  big  ol'  mess.   it's  like  a  few  things  get  moved  just  a  couple  spots  over,   just  to  drive  me  crazy.   and,   y'know,   i  told  one  of  my  friends  about  it,   and  she  said,   y'know,   maybe  ya  just  got  drunk  and  messed  things  up  yerself.   but  i  know  damn  well  i  would  never  do  that.  ❞   he  shakes  his  head  and  looks  away.   the  stress  of  it  all  has  been  weighing  heavy  on  him,   and  it's  clear  in  just  the  way  he  sits.   his  normally  so  well  maintained  posture  has  started  to  slip,   his  normally  so  bright  eyes,   dull  and  tired.   he  slowly  looks  back  over  at  jason,   trying  to  smile  at  him  but  it  just  turns  out  weak.   ❝  so ?   ya  reckon  you  got  the  number  of  a  good  exorcist ?  ❞

[cultb0rn]

❛ you can tell me if something is bothering you. ❜

a   naive   part   of   her   wants   to.   a   younger   version   of   herself   wants   to   open   her   lips   &   say   it   all   ⸺   wants   to   talk   about   all   that   is   bothering   her,   all   that   has   led   to   being   bothered.   but   [ … ]   it   is   also   a   part   of   her   that   has   long   gone   quiet.   or   been   silenced.   however   one   would   understand   it.   in   a   brief   moment   of   feeling   overwhelmed,   unsure   if   that   louder   self   of   hers   still   exists   somewhere   within   her,   cora   just   smiles   &   shrugs   her   shoulders.   “   &   then   what   ?   you   hold   my   hand   while   i   cry   about   stuff   that   can’t   be   changed   anymore   ?   “   words   sound   cynic.   bitter   even.   maybe   because   they   are.   and   maybe   because   she’s   never   done   it,   never   spoke   about   all   the   things   that   bother   her.   maybe   because,   even   after   years   &   years   of   no   longer   living   with   a   family   that   was   never   really   hers   …   nothing   has   changed   really.   wounds   haven’t   healed   &   the   past   hasn’t   been   forgotten.   

[freetoleave]

@trailbit asked: "Do you always push buttons?" from this tension meme !!

❝ it's kind of fun. testing how on edge people are. you wouldn't believe how little it takes some people to snap.seeing how creative i can be in figuring out what really makes a person tick... ❞ she learned to make it a game when it was more tactical so the words thrown back at her would bounce off because she couldn't handle any more cuts back then. hypocritical? absolutely, but she would back off when she could sense that she went too far or someone was genuinely about to break. it's more courtesy than most of the guys had for her back in the day so it has to count for something, right?

when leah speaks again, her tone is more of a mocking tease. ❝ don't tell me you're already at your limit. i had more faith in you. ❞ the slight pout to her lips is interrupted by another chip being placed into her mouth. her eyes are laser focused on jason's face. she's looking for the tell tale signs of annoyance, a furrowed brow, pursed lips... or is it going to tip toward anger with a clenched jaw and flared nostrils?

[fatalhymn]

❛ i don't look like a ghost, do i? see? warm. ❜

silent hill 2 remake ⸻ accepting

Amelia doesn't actually quite know what a ghost looks like. When someone says ghost... she's expecting Casper, or, at the very least, something Casper-adjacent. The fact that he is both firm, and warm, doesn't quell her alarm, considering now there is no explanation for his sudden appearance out of nowhere... in a place that is supposed to be empty.

The feel of him does comfort her. Anything that is warm, bleeds, and anything she can touch, she can kill.

Right ?

The hand confirming his physical being lashes out to shove him roughly and she pivots backward, putting distance between them. Her eyes narrowed and hackles raised. She already has her gun in her hands, safety off, and aimed directly at the point between his eyes.

❝ You kinda look like a threat right now, actually ⸻ ❞ Amelia purses her lips, clicks her tongue, as if chastising a child. ❝ It's rude to sneak up on a beautiful woman, didn't anyone ever teach you that ?! Jesus Christ, you're lucky I don't shoot you ! ❞

@trailbit

[kxllerblond]

❛ what are you talking about, i don't give a fuck? why would you say that to me? i give like a huge fuck. ❜

Shocked wouldn't be the right word. Clark was not shocked so much as he was briefly stunned. He blinked a few times, rapidly.

❝ Clearly, you very much give quite a fuck. That is my mistake. ❞ a hand held up as if to calm some stalking, agitated beast. 

The cambion ought to have known better. There was that saying about what assuming made you; Clark typically knew better than to make an ass of himself. He let his hand fall back to his side and then drew both arms up to cross over his chest.

He still regarded the man with some level of cautiousness and apprehension. He also looked to Jason as if he'd thrown a fragile plate to the ground and had left both men to sit with the awkwardness of the aftermath of such a fit. 

❝ It's just that I didn't think a random dead necromancer would be up your alley of concern. ❞ he gaze eased slowly back to said corpse, the bulk of it hidden mostly in shadow. ❝ You're not going to be weird about this, are you? I've already had such a long night. ❞

[narrativeobsession]

@trailbit saw something that shouldn't exist

Or at the very least, it... they? shouldn't exist here. Not in this place, not in this world at all. They look at him from behind a computer screen, on Earth, smiling a wide, sharp smile. They look at him and press a hand to the screen and it ripples, but they do not push through.

But they could. It seems so certain that they could.

"hey." Their voice comes through the computer's speaker, distorted and pitch shifted. When they laugh, the noise is painfully static filled. "hey, you, come here."