8 Works by filthyghost
Listing Works
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Summary
1: a graphic description or representation
2: a striking or artistic grouping : arrangement, scene
3 [short for tableau vivant (from French, literally, living picture)] : a depiction of a scene usually presented on a stage by silent and motionless costumed participants.///
in which jay has a puppy crush on a second year student, and it backfires horribly.
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i've become what i always hated when i was with you then by filthyghost
Fandoms: Marble Hornets
30 Nov 2023
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Summary
You can tell now that you’ve got him where you want him, so you tilt your head to look at him. Almost admiring, not quite. “We can’t do this, Bri.” The nickname slips out impulsively and you want to puke all over him. Keep composure. “You’re—I. Brian. Brian.”
(But your hands are shaking when you go to pin him down again, you’ve already given up, haven’t you, haven’t you, Kralie. Haven’t you haven’t you haven’t you been wanting this—second chance right here, in front of you, oh, oh, Alex. Oh, Alex.)
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in which alex has borderline personality disorder and tries to gain control over anything he can.
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brian holds your camera gently in his square hands and follows like a dog on a leash.
it’s not rolling, which is something you’re grateful for when he quietly asks, “are you really into like.. that?”“hm?” you turn, shove your hands into the pockets of your linty jacket to hide the slight tremor running through your fingers. you have to squint through the sun to see him. in the saturation
(your films are never this vibrant. you wash the footage out to be mellow and dull. maybe you shouldn’t.)
his eyes are almost the same shade as the underbellies of the fat cumulous clouds above him. “like... the film, last night. you were really into it. but i…” his voice fades out. “i was drunk. i could be remembering wrong.” there’s a twinge in his face, almost like he’s sorry for accusing you of... of what? enjoying watching people die just a bit too much because you’re fucked up. you feel more guilty about the fact that he feels guilty than the fact that he’s right.
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Your elbow nearly touches his elbow, your breathing is too in sync with his. The class has a buzzing energy centralized in your head and when you shout out to argue a point, you’re faltering.
“S’ the concept of amor fati.” he mumbles beside you.
You’re furious. That fucker not only stole your words down to your characteristic slurring of the s’s, but he stole your heart too. But he’s right. It’s reluctant, the nod you give him. You think if you move your head too fast, you’ll shake your feelings into your cheeks like an Etch-A-Sketch.
When the class ends, you confront Brian and he just gives you a half smile that shows off his crooked teeth and a crease in his cheek. “All the greatest philosophers drew inspiration from each other, Kralie.”
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alex n brian have a philosophy class together.
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Boredly (because what other tone can he assume? He’s not about to let Brian know he cares.), he says, “Look, Thomas. You’re a worthless shit but I cannot let you die on my watch. So either, like, work with me a little or…” he takes a moment to think of a threat. Licks his lips. “I’ll rat you out.”
He can only hope Brian’s feeling shitty enough to fall for it.
Oddly enough, he falls for the bait.
“Don’t.”///
In which a drug dealer reluctantly takes care of his self-destructive client.
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“Could we be this way forever?” Alex hopes Amy can sift through the simplicity of his words and find the subtext among cliché. He rubs grease from the pan-fried bass into the red stripes of his boxers. In his head he’s pulling out his old film camera from first year to record a montage of their lives, one where they are trans and happy, where they’re stupidly in love and their hands hold each other’s in the dark.
“We can try.” Amy’s a realist. There’s adoration in her expression as she turns to her boyfriend—
Her BOYFRIEND.
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soft t4t alex/amy because there is NOT enough of it and i am starved for that kinda shit <3
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a magic trick that’ll make this dead swan come alive by filthyghost
Fandoms: Marble Hornets
30 May 2021
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Summary
It’s three bloodied bites later when Jay’s whispering “I want to suck your cock,” like he’s in some porno and the taller boy is pulling away disgustedly, laughing that bitter hyena’s laugh he does and collapsing into the wood with a loud crash.
“I don’t fuck with that,” it’s said in a bitter sort of delirium. “Sorry.”
The two of them pass out on the back porch among the crushed cans and Jay wakes up shivering in the morning. The only things warm are his hands, which had been holding Alex’s in the night.
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In which Jay falls for a loner with too-sharp teeth and an affinity for danger.
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He could call back. Maybe he’d get a flesh and blood answer, even if it was just breathing into the microphone, rather than a canned response from the voicemail. He could, he could, and that alone scares him enough to shut his phone off and place it face down on his mattress. The thought runs rampant in his brain.
He could call. He could call back. He could call back call back callbackcallbackhecouldcallbackhecould END IT.
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A short story in which Alex makes a difficult choice.