ghost farm

sentient-teapot  asked:

"Accidentally capture the wrong base"? .....tell us more? Please?

this was before we got agent agent back as our handler, and part of the reason why he finally turned up for work again. 

so the thing about clint is that hes 1. not a good listener and 2. hes deaf. mostly. these are separate issues because being mostly deaf doesnt stop him from understanding what people are saying most of the time, it just means that you have to be sure he knows youre trying to communicate with him before you say something. (and also that you should make sure your mask doesnt cover your mouth so he can lipread, but whatever.)

we had this agent—incredibly boring guy in the worst sort of way–who’d requested clint, nat, and i for an op. nat and i were supposed to hit two of the leaders of a crime syndicate while clint got the third. easy peasy, kill some guys, free some hostages, small country liberated, total cakewalk. but the agent running the op and the briefing took FOREVER. he was talking us through like none of us had ever overthrown a country before, explaining every minute detail. nat and i could just kinda zone out and let things wash over us, picking up the pertinent details, but clint cant really do that. his hearing aids help but they weren’t perfect, so he also had to be kinda lipreading just to keep up. which takes a lot of focus for incredibly boring info. naturally he zoned out too.

which was how he missed the fact that his guy was not actually staying in his incredibly fortified base-slash-villa. his hostages were, but he wasn’t. 

luckily, they covered this in the briefing packet we were each provided with, which was a mere 362 pages. 

so obviously none of us actually read it.

we poked through, got blueprints, guard schedules, alarm systems and so on, but didnt bother with most of the rest of it. 

they dropped us in the air over each of our respective targets, clint last. i had the cliffside resort, nat had the downtown headquarters, and clint had the base-villa. nat and i handled ours like pros, of course, corpses everywhere, and clint did too–mowed right through the security, got the hostages, and then called in that his syndicate leader wasnt there, what the hell, who gave me this bad intel.

which was when he was informed that the big bad wasnt IN the villa, he was on the ISLAND ACROSS from the villa, and that hed been supposed to covertly infiltrate the beach house there and quietly capture him. ideally without ever setting foot in the villa; he was just supposed to steal a boat from the villa docks and not get spotted by security. 

unfortunately, clint had blown up all the watercraft at the villa’s docks to keep syndicate members from escaping. which meant he still had to get to the island and capture this guy, but now there were no motorboats left. and if this syndicate jerkoff got away, fury was gonna have his hide.

and thats how clint wound up launching a one-man amphibious assault on an international crime syndicate from a paddleboat.

and also why clint reads his briefings now. 

BEWARE!!! –is totally the Box Ghost’s catchphrase.


“Anything that comes out of the South is going to be called grotesque by the northern reader, unless it is grotesque, in which case it is going to be called realistic.” - Flannery O'Connor


  • crossroads demons
  • old dusty town, barely surviving
  • zealous/fanatical religious figures/movements
  • messiah/prophet figure
  • larger than life characters
  • small town setting
  • swamps
  • farms
  • factories
  • ghost towns


  • good ole southern boys
  • southern belles
  • belle-turned-femme-fatale
  • fire and brimstone preacher
  • reluctant messiah figure
  • the iron-bound Southern matriarch
  • the unforgiving father-God figure
  • gossiping and small-minded locals


  • Beauty & the Beast
  • Macbeth
  • Little Red Riding Hood
  • Harry Potter World (Americanized)
  • Julius Caesar (Shakespeare)
  • Equilibrium (Minus Futuristic World) 

For more information about the genre and where I derived a lot of my inspiration, visit this blog.

More Farm Boy AU, this was ALMOST a story ramble, luckily it turned itself into a fic. Bittersweets ahead.

Danny’s out by the edge of the farm, fixing up a few fences that were blown down during a storm the other night. Scared all the cows half to death, they’ll be getting sour milk for the next month with their luck.

Just as he puts down his toolbox his ghost sense goes off, his eyes flash around the sky, expecting Skulker or Vlad’s vultures. He doesn’t see anything until he turns around and finds an old man leaning on the broken fence a few metres away.

The ghost isn’t like one he’s seen before, the whole of his lean body is the same washed out sepia colour, and there’s no glow to his eyes, just a calming paternal strength set within an aged weather-beaten face. He looks familiar, but Danny can’t place where from.

“I always told mah girls I’d be there for ‘em. I’d look out for ‘em. They were always so strong, they felt like they didn’t need me. They’re prob’ly right.” Rough words escape from cracked, sun-dried lips, a hint of an Irish accent peeking through. The old man takes off his hat and pats some dust from it, revealing the thinning remains of what once might have been curly hair. “But look at me, still here, still worryin’. And as it turns out, it was the wrong one I was worryin’ for.” He heaves a heavy sigh.

Danny slowly approaches the old man and leans on the fence next to him, trying to get a closer look at his face. He’s already decided that he’s no threat, not yet at least. Perhaps he lived here once?

“I never got the chance to say g’bye to little Madsie when mah heart was still kickin’, but after… well I knew a couldn’t get near her like this.” He chuckles, replaces his hat and smiles at Danny, a big toothy grin that instantly sends him back to his old house, his parent’s bedroom, a photo on the dresser of his mother, aunt Alicia and a smiling, tanned, weather beaten face.

Danny’s eyes widen and his grandfather nods at him. “Surprised you recognise me boy, last time I seen you you was barely knee high on me. I used to pick you up with one hand!” he raises a fist, strong muscles coiling beneath his sepia skin. “Drive your mother crazy!”

The belting, rasping laugh he lets out is almost contagious, Danny has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing along with him. Keeping a smile from his face, however, proves to be a futile effort as the corners of his mouth pull themselves up of their own accord.

The old Irishman rattles off a few more chuckles and drops his arm down on his grandson’s shoulders, giving him a friendly shake. “I’m glad you’re here lad. I been lookin’ over little ‘Licia for long enough, I think I can leave her in more capable hands now. Hm?”

Danny wants to say something, but the trust and warmth radiating from this man he hardly knows through any bond beyond blood steals his words.

“I got plenty’a family waitin’ for me on the other side, I better not make ‘em wait much longer, the missus’ll belt me ‘round the ears.” he gives Danny a cheeky wink. “That’s if she still wants an old coot like me, she died much more young an’ pretty. Looked nothin’ like this old haggard thing here.” he roars out another wheezing cackle, had he needed to breath Danny imagines he’d be gasping for air after such an outburst.

The arm on Danny’s shoulders is lifted, as is the warmth that accompanied it. So much different to the usual cold of a ghost’s touch.

Danny turns to watch the old man walk away from the fence into the empty paddock, the long grass doesn’t even notice he’s there, and after a few more fading steps, he isn’t.

Danny blinks himself out the warm, fuzzy haze that’s steadily losing its grip on him and quickly wipes a few stray tears from his face as he resumes his work on the fence. His heart just a little bit lifted.

Most copious brain soaked in opiates
Notice how the phobias appropriately procreate
Woke up with a ghost farm focused on his groceries
When they aren’t telling stories, they are multiplying grossly on the lawn
Let em loiter, never let em spawn
The apparitions have been drinking this water for too long
So when they gather by the birdbath in the morning he will tell em
I mean no disrespect, but you have all outstayed your welcome
Interesting, in a sense
Interrupt commiserating phantoms on your picket fence
How quickly they will lift their heads
And breathe an ultimatum like the dead don’t argue
Said you’re living by the bayonet, but how alive are you?

The Creepy Things for Halloween Masterpost (2016)

Because we have Halloween all year round on this blog I have gathered all of the creepiest and most Halloweeny posts and created an updated Halloween masterpost. Enjoy! …And try not to get too scared.

General Creepy Things

The Origin of the Jack-o-Lantern 

Black Cats

The Okiku Doll

The Anguished Man


The Curse of Little Bastard


Onryō (aka The Grudge/Ring)



The Headless Horseman


The Dyatlov Incident


Annabelle the Haunted Doll

The Crying Boy

Black Eyed Children

Robert the Doll


Mandy the Doll



The eBay Voodoo Doll 

Spirit Photography

Freddy Jackson

The Toys R Us Ghost

The Queens House Ghost

El Paso High School

The Crying Child Photograph

Security footage of a ghost screaming in haunted hotel (video)

Boot Hill Cemetery

Grandpa’s Ghost

The Farm Boy Ghost

Poltergeist caught on camera (video)

Ghost Taxi Passengers (video)

Headless Ghost Caught on Camera  (video)

The Phantom Pilot 

The Jimmy’s World Grill and Bar Poltergeist (video)

The Amityville Boy 

Disney World Ghosts (video)

Little Ghost Girl

Urban Legends

Red Cape

The Bunny Man

The Faceless Woman

Teke Teke


The Slit Mouthed Woman


The Jersey Devil 

Haunted Places

St Louis Cemetery

Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

Resurrection Mary

Myrtles Plantation

The Stanley Hotel (The story behind The Shining)

The Island of the Dolls

Old Changi Hospital

Liverpool Street Station (Bedlam Asylum)

Highgate Cemetary (The Highgate Vampire)

The True Story Behind The Exorcist

Bachelor’s Grove Cemetery

Nam Koo Terrace

The Bell Witch

Granville Road 31

Glamis Castle

Waverly Hills Sanitarium

Himuro Mansion

LaLaurie Mansion

Borley Rectory

The Grey Lady of Willard Library

Poveglia Island

The South Shields Poltergeist

The Jabuticabal Poltergeist

St Augustine Lighthouse

The Half Faced Girl of Old Pali Road

The Curse of the Cecil Hotel 

50 Berkeley Square 

The Dead Children’s Playground 

Originally posted by thepumpkinqueenn

The Harrisville Haunting (The Conjuring)

In 1970, the Perron family, comprised of Mr. and Mrs. Perron and 5 daughters, moved into an old farmhouse in Harrisville Rhode Island. The house was a dream come true for the family, until things started becoming strange. The eldest of the Perron daughters, Andrea Perron, has reported that on the family’s very first day in the home a full-bodied apparition was visible to all of the children. Their experiences at the home would later be told through Andrea Perron’s Book series House of Darkness, House of Light, and through the movie The Conjuring (2013).

There were good spirits in the home. One kissed the girls before they fell asleep each night, another smelled of fragrant flowers. One spirit of a little boy played with their toys and grew attached to the youngest daughter. Unfortunately, there were also bad spirits in the home. They would physically torment the girls, pulling their hair and pushing them down at times. One entity repeatedly told one of the children “there are seven dead soldiers buried in the wall”. Of all the spirits in the home, there is only one that the family is reluctant to talk about. In Andrea Perron’s book she alluded to the fact that a male entity may have molested the girls in the house.

In the movie, The Conjuring, an emphasis was placed on the presence of a spirit named Bathsheba. While there was a woman who lived in the house in the early 1800′s named Bathsheba Thayer, the Perrons claim that her spirit acted out because of the way she was mistreated in life (she was accused of killing a child who died in her care). Bathsheba targeted Mrs. Perron, supposedly because she lusted after Mr. Perron. Another malevolent female presence was thought to be the spirit of Mrs. Arnold who hung herself in the barn at the age of 93 in the 1700′s. The family claims to have seen the horrific apparition of Mrs. Arnold and Andrea Perron has said that the image of her was considered too gruesome to portray in the film.

Though the Perron family no longer resides in the house, it still stands today.