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blakelywintersfield · 4 years

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I have a ghost in my car.

My first car was named "Baby", and I called her, well. Her.

My second car was also going to be a "her", but since discovering that it is haunted by some being or another, I've been working to call them by neutral terms only, since it's a little hard to ask a haunted car their gender.

Does the entity see themselves as part of the car? Separate but attached, like a person living in a house? Does their spirit reside in the electrical wires of the radio, or perhaps just the dashboard where they fiddle with the controls as they please. I do not know. I cannot ask a ghost in a car these questions. I mean. I can. But the likelihood of them finding a way to answer isn't high. Especially if they don't care too much for conversation.

"But Blake -- your car is old! It's probably just some faulty or loose wiring in the stereo."

I did consider this! Enough that I had it checked, at my mum's dealership, because that could be a possible fire hazard, yeah? But they said it all looks perfect. No faulty or loose wirings, just a normal stereo. This car had only one person who owned it before me, and he had it over 10 years. A family man, with two kids; no wrecks, no major issues with the car, just standard part repairs, maintenance, and replacement as needed for any standard vehicle. It is, by all means, the perfect used car, and dealership inspected before being given to me.

How did the spirit get in this car? Of course, I don't know the former owner. Only details from the dealership workers who told me what they knew, and little hints about his life that he left in his car -- accidental, or arguably on purpose for the intention of the next owner to just toss out. I'm naturally curious and skimmed documents, for no other purpose but to learn something about the kind stranger who just so happened to sell his perfect used car the day after I totaled my Baby, my first car, the old family car that lasted us 15+ years and, had I not looked right too long to merge, would have probably lasted me at least 10 more. A wonderful coincidence. Possibly fate, but I'm in no position to interpret the will of the random chaos that is the nature of the universe. Regardless of whether it was "meant to be" or "just so happened to be", this man unknowingly bequeathed his trusty old car to me.

According to the things he left, the car was manufactured in Indiana; he lived in Tennessee when he bought it; and eventually he moved into a comfy suburban-urban area in the state next to mine. Perhaps he moved into my state, since there are plenty of dealerships where those papers claimed he resides, making it unreasonable to travel 2 hours just to go to another; and decided to get a new car, one more cushy, more modern, better window tints, and bigger space, to drive one of his kids to soccer games; I hope those arm compressors were left intentionally in the car. I'd hate for them to be inconvenienced, considering they seemed to be a very modest, modern, nuclear family of the Midwest. One with enough patience and good sense not to wreck a car in one of the many Midwestern hellscape interstates, or even get into a fender bender, for 10 whole years.

But these are just assumptions, made by details I know about a man I've never faced, never so much as spoken to. He could be the All American Average Man, given a more nuanced temperament by the condition of the car. But he could have also been, had, and done things I wouldn't be able to tell from a car, its history, and some miscellaneous papers and various items left behind -- purposefully or not left unknown to all but him and his family. Maybe he was like me, and practiced magic of some kind. Maybe his kids made the common rebellious childhood mistake of playing with magic. Perhaps there was an accident, not one he participated in directly, but one he tried to assist in, that sadly ended unwell for some. Perhaps... it wasn't an accident. Maybe he got away with something, and All American Average Man, committing a One Time Atrocity, with enough intellect and wit to avoid mortal judgement, and enough sense to abandon a car right after -- or when it showed signs that it Knew. Or, perhaps, it came with the manufacturing, at the plant where it was constructed, or where the assembly parts were formed. Perhaps, it came from the very materials, the metals, the minerals, the plastics, that form the car.

I cannot tell, for I cannot ask. Well. I can. But I have no way of getting an answer. Easily, anyways. And I have no good reason to force whatever spirit resides in my car -- perhaps I should call it their car, since they most likely spend more time in it than I -- to answer questions purely to quell curiosity. Especially since they show no ill will. All I've dealt with is the stereo turning on when I've turned it off (it requires a genuine pressure to turn it on and off) and the volume turning up on it's own (the knob takes a few clicks to register a volume change, and takes a good finger muscle to turn). It's quite charmed me most times, and lightly startled at the worst. Namely when I mute a CD that I've played over a few times, for whatever reason, and it gets turned back on; or a song that I particularly like gets turned up. Whoever they are, I admire their love of music like I do -- and I'm pleased that they do seem to enjoy my taste in songs! Whenever my CDs are on random, and I think real hard about what I want to hear next -- it plays! Of course, I don't know if I can credit the ghost on this, or if it's my own ability to will things in existence, since that was common with my old Baby, and my ancient iPod. Or, perhaps, it garners a third option.

Perhaps, this spirit may not even be attached to the car -- but to me. If that's the case, then maybe they're a guardian angel, a beloved passed friend, the will of my endeavoring childhood self, or just... a random ghost that decided to tag around with me. I do not know. I cannot get an answer easily, and I have no reason to push for answers. It brings me no harm. If anything, it brings me companionship, a reason to better myself, a reason to be happier, be better, if to keep the phantom that walks with me content and happy while they stick around for however long they want -- or must.

However, if this is the same spirit as the Kleptoplasm that enjoys befuddling my family and, recently, my coworkers, then perhaps I may try to gently request that they let those items show up a little sooner to cause less grief to those around me. And in return, well. We'll take a midnight drive with the music loud and the windows down. That seems like a good deal, right?

And for those who might be wondering: my current car's name is Subasu, the Subaru.

#writing #prose #short story #ghosts #car ghost #i just got a hair up my ass and decided to whip this up #and yes this is all true actually #my car is haunted and i like to think the spectre is my buddy :)

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sf-akahana · 5 years

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B Support (snzfic)

Fi//re Em//blem 3 Houses fic based of Dorothea's B support with Byleth. This is written from Dorothea's perspective and I copied the lines straight from how it's written in game, so you might want to watch both the female and male version of that conversation if the dialog reads a little stiff sorry. The voice acting in both English and Japanese is good anyway so I suggest it. I purposefully used gender neutral pronouns so you can pick which ever version on Byleth you prefer. Hope you enjoy my frantic 5am thirst ramblings

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I can’t help but grumble a bit to myself as I reread the notes from today’s lecture; even though I wrote everything down it feels like I didn’t retain any of it. It’s not my fault though, Professor Byleth’s just so distracting! How am I supposed to focus on what they’re saying when they’re looking at me like that?! I heave a heavy sigh and try to focus my attention back on the lesson, when I’m interrupted by a familiar monotone voice.

“What’s wrong?”

I whip around in surprise - speak of the devil. There they are with their blank expression and piercing gaze, and as our eyes meet I already start to feel my ears heat up. Dammit.

“Professor?! I – Oh… don’t worry. It’s nothing.”

They quietly accept my answer and seemingly wait for me to go back to my work. Under normal circumstances I would have appreciated it, but honestly this is getting ridiculous. I can’t be constantly distracted by my own teacher; I have to find a way around this or else there’s no reason for me to be here!! I take a second to gather my thoughts before I meet their eyes again.

“Actually, could we talk for a bit? Somewhere a little more...private?”

I work hard to come across as sincere as possible; it’s too easy to let flirtation slip into a question like that and get brushed off. Their expression barely changes, little more than raising their eyebrows, but it’s enough that I know they understood. I don’t bother to wait for an answer as I turn around and walk out the dinning hall towards the first floor dorm rooms. Not long after a set of footsteps click on the stone pathway just behind me. I use the silence of our walk to come up with a good way to start this conversation, but by the time we close my bedroom door behind us I still don’t have the right words. We stand facing each other saying nothing for a few moments before I decide to throw caution to the wind.

“I’m just gonna come right out and say it. I find you a little difficult to be around. I know, I know. I’m your student and you’re just trying to watch out for me. But the way you look at me sometimes… it’s like you’re seeing right through me.”

The change in their expression is again subtle, but I’ve always been pretty good at reading others. They’re a person of few words, and I can see the gears turning in their head as they carefully choose the right ones.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. I know you don’t mean anything bad by it. I’m just self-conscious, I guess. The thing is, I don’t have anything to call my own. No land, no birthright, no fortune. Little knowledge or battle skill. I think that’s why I always clung to my popularity as a diva. Even after leaving the stage behind, I sort of kept up the act. When I look at you, it’s like your eyes are accusing me… Telling me that you see right through it. That’s what I mean when I say it’s difficult to be around you.”

I didn’t mean to get so personal with the professor and to dump all my baggage on them, but now that I’ve started I just can’t stop. And of course, they just stand their quietly and let me ramble uninterrupted. I take a deep breath and meet their piercing eyes again, the heat moving from my ears to my cheeks as an idea forms in my head.

“Hey, uh, this might be nuts, but maybe you could show me some kind of weakness of yours?”

“Excuse me?” Their eyes immediately widen in shock, and though not as much as other people this is the most expression I’ve gotten this whole conversation. The reaction gives me a little confidence as I continue on with my silly request.

“You know my biggest fear. If I know one of yours, maybe I’ll feel less, I don’t know… vulnerable.”

They look pensive for a moment, hesitation clear to see as they seemingly way the pros and cons. I’m not oblivious as to how showing a student your weakness could be uncomfortable or embarrassing, but honestly that’s what I’m going for. Anything to humanize them.

“Well, if it would really help...”

“Excellent. Well then, don’t mind me.” Just as they promised they wait patiently as I quickly try to think of something to get a reaction out of them. Something ridiculously human, something involuntary. Tickling maybe? Though they are wearing a lot of clothing, they might be able to endure it. The only thing exposed is their...face - that’s perfect!! I couldn’t quite help my grin as I fiddled through my gift drawer. Right on top was a pretty white owl feather, the very same one Professor Byleth gave me for my birthday over tea not but a few weeks ago. I’ve been meaning to sew into into my cap, but now I’m glad I haven’t gotten around to it yet. I have to keep myself from skipping back across the room as I hold up the feather just above their beautifully pointed nose.

“Is this still ok, Professor?” With a small look of reluctance, they take a deep breath and nod their head. Though there’s no color across their cheeks, their eyes drift away from mine as I tip their chin back slightly, and I will happily take that as a show of embarrassment at this oddly intimate act. From this angle it was hard not to notice Byleth’s beautiful skin and perfect jaw, but then no ever one said the professor isn’t attractive. I take a deep breath of my own before stealing my nerves and starting on my work.

The first touch of the feather to their upturned nose gets little reaction, but I’m in no hurry right now. I take my time tickling around the nostrils and up the septum. It’s almost mesmerizing watching the muscles around the nose tick slightly at the sensation, a little scrunch of the nose here and a shallow sniff there. Soon their nostrils are flushed pink under the attention of the feather, Byleth’s eyes squinting up at the ceiling and their arms crossed tightly across their chest to deal with the itch. It’s only then that I decide it’s time to get the real reaction I’m looking for.

As I ease the feather slowly into their left nostril their nose immediately scrunches up, a gasp muffled through their teeth and a visible shudder tensing their shoulders. I can feel my grin stretch across my face; this is exactly what I’m looking for. It makes me feel in control, a little sadistic even. I keep my fingers underneath their chin as I twirl the tickly tool deeper into their nostril, the tip of the feather brushing lightly against their sinuses, and soon I’m treated by their first desperate sound; a little whine as their nostrils flare out trying to escape the tickling. I’m treated to more gasps and soft noises as I continue to tease the sensitive spot I found, and it isn’t long until Byleth is hitching in earnest.

“ah! hihh...hhIh-hIHh!! ehh-hIH!”

They’re shoulders are tensed up so they don’t jerk away from me and their hands have moved from their chest to hovering just below mine, ready to catch the sneezes when I finally bring it out of them. Though it seems they were too impatient to wait for me to finish it, as a sharp sniff triggeres a desperate breath in preparation for the fit. They quickly pushed my hands away and back up a few steps, though to my delight they don’t obscure their face as they finally tip over the edge.

“hhHIHHHhh- AT’chuhh!! A’tchh! ‘tchuh! hehh’eTCHhu!! hiih...hEH! ATCHhhu!! snff snf...”

Byleth pulls a nice handkerchief out of their coat as the fit comes to an end, and I stand pink cheeked and a little speechless as they clean themselves up. Weirdly enough I’ll say I’m even a bit starstruck. Usually a display so dramatic and impolite would take away from one’s attractiveness, but under these circumstances I can honestly say that it kind of has the opposite effect. I quickly shake out of my thoughts as they clear their nose a final time, and my grin quickly spreads over my face once more.

“Goddess’ blessings, wow Professor that was dramatic. I don’t mind though, you have pretty cute sneezes. Next time you gaze into my soul, I know just how I’ll retaliate!” I can’t help but giggle as I tease them a little, hoping to get just one more reaction out of them. Byleth just smiles slightly though and doesn’t rise to my bait, no pink cheeks or nothing. I let myself pout.

“Come on! I thought that was funny. I swear it’s like your heart isn’t even beating.” Without missing a beat and with a completely black expression, they come back with-

“Actually, my heart isn’t beating.”

“Ha, don’t be so silly… Huh? It really isn’t beating?! - Is what I’d say if I were more gullible. You’re just fooling around, Professor. I’m not sure how you did it, but that was a good one.”

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| Byleth and Dorothea’s |

| support level is now B! |

| Their motivation has also increased. |

|___________________________________|

#sneezefic #snzfic #sneeze kink

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