hi, i’m a big fan of your writing, thank you sm for sharing it w us !! since requests are open, could i please ask for something with daniel robitaille? maybe something obsessive and sweet-intentioned but really pushing the line of creepy? thanks :)
yes!!! this is definitely more of a set-up but I would be super willing to write more parts to this eventually because I do like this premise a lot! if I do write future parts, I would really try to hone in more on the sweet but creepy vibes.
(dis)belief | daniel robitaille x reader
notes: descriptions of slightly obsessive behavior | word count: 1389 character list + rules | accepted prompt lists
The shadow has been dogging your steps since Halloween. Not that any of your friends believe you— one of them had the audacity to suggest that you were just having an extended trip, ignoring the fact that you hadn’t taken anything that night. Frankly, if it wasn’t happening to you, you probably wouldn’t believe it either.
It wasn’t even an actual shadow. There was nothing concrete for you to point to, nothing for you to catch. But there was the inkling of a feeling, that tingle at the back of your neck that told you something was watching you.
Maybe you were just paranoid. But every time you felt a touch of an invisible hand against your skin, or the shifting of air that told you something was moving past you without you seeing, you knew that you weren’t just making it up.
The moment you decided that, maybe, you needed help with this problem was when you walked into your apartment after work only to walk into a room bathed in golden light. Every candle in your apartment was lit, flames flickering in the darkness. You dropped your bag at your side, mouth agape. Scented candles, taper candles, sculptural candles— all were lit (you never realized just how many candles you owned until this moment.)
There was no way you had done this. And your door had been locked when you’d arrived home.
It had no explanation, at least not one that you wanted to admit to yourself.
Grabbing your bag, you quickly called the only friend who wouldn’t immediately think you had lost your mind.
“Hey, Tab, can you meet me at the coffee shop near my place? Something… weird is going on.”
Thirty minutes later, you were sitting in a cafe with Tabitha, who was listening to the story of your week since this all began with a stony face that indicated she was trying not to convey just how worried she was about your situation.
“What happened at that Halloween party?” She asked, her ringed fingers curling around her cup.
“I didn’t take anything that night, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It’s not.” She frowned. “I wasn’t there, so I don’t know what you guys got up to.”
“Listen, all we did at the party was get drunk and play stupid slumber party games. I don’t think whatever is happening is because of the party.”
“What kinds of games did you play?”
“Like…” You groaned, exasperated that you were even entertaining the idea that the games had anything to do with what was going on. Even with all of the evidence you had that something strange was happening, tying it to literal children’s games felt silly. “Like Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board or Bloody Mary. The shit you do when you’re ten and want to scare your friends.”
When you had suggested going out to an actual club that night, they told you that the cover charges for all the clubs in the area were too much. Which, to be fair, they totally were. But being in an actual club with actual music was better than standing in a dark bathroom with a candle and chanting for a ghost that most people stopped being afraid of when they were ten to appear.
Tabitha gave you a look, pursing her lips like she was debating actually saying it.
“Maybe… you actually summoned something.”
You wanted to laugh.
But you had specifically reached out to this friend, your one friend who owned more crystals than she had money in her savings and who regularly offered to read tarot for you. The only friend who knew enough about this kind of shit to give you the advice you so desperately needed but were unwilling to vocalize.
Then, you felt a gentle tickle on your hand. Looking down, you startled at the sight of a bee gently making its way across your skin. You furrowed your brow, confused at the sight. Wasn’t it too late in the year for bees?
You tried to shake the bee off of your hand, your frown deepening when it stayed stubbornly put.
Tabitha followed your gaze to your hand, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the bee meandering across your skin. Slowly, she looked back up at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.
“What, exactly, did you summon that night?”
⚬──────────✧──────────⚬
Tabitha had provided you with a list of tips for getting rid of the spirit that seemed attached to you, right after she was done berating you for trying to summon anything in the first place. (“Especially on Halloween. I don’t care what you believe, that’s just common sense!”)
Her first tip was, coincidentally, also the scariest: talk to it. Tell it that it wasn’t welcome around you and that it needed to leave your house. Be firm, but not cruel in your delivery.
You stood in your living room, holding an unlit bundle of leaves that Tabitha told you was good for clearing out negative energies from your space. Of course, she had intended for you to light them on fire but you weren’t so sure that it wasn’t going to just set your smoke alarm off.
“Um. Hi?” God, you felt stupid. He was just an urban legend— you hadn’t actually summoned anything that night, and certainly not the fucking Candyman. You were just tired, and imagining things, and now you were talking to the air in your empty apartment. Maybe you had actually lit all of those candles yourself and forgotten. Maybe you just had a gas leak and were slowly losing your mind. “Is anyone there?”
Then— a gentle brush against your shoulder. Quick and feather light. You whipped around, heart racing. There was nothing, no one standing there. But you had felt it.
“I–” You cleared your throat. Assert your dominance, Tabitha had said. You held the bundle of leaves in front of you like it was a crucifix in a vampire film. “I’m sorry if I offended you by bringing you here. But I need you to leave. You can’t stay here.”
Much like you had expected, nothing happened. You lowered your hands, starting to think that maybe you did need to check yourself into a hospital (or have your home checked for gas leaks or mold).
“That–” The voice, deep and soft, came from right above your head, seeming to echo in your mind. Your ears rang, a low buzzing thrumming in your bones. You spun around again, trying to catch sight of the person speaking but no matter where you turned you saw nothing. “-is not how this works.”
“What do you mean? How what works?” Somehow you were able to speak through the shock coursing through your veins.
“You summoned me.” The voice curled around you, caressing your skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. A gasp, sharp and scraping against your throat, wrenched itself out of your mouth. When he spoke again, his voice was right next to your ear, every syllable in his gravelly voice intentionally placed. “The Can-dy-man.”
“I–” You swallowed, your saliva thick in your mouth. “You aren’t real.” You can’t be real.
“You were brave– foolish. You didn’t believe in me. But I believe that your screams would taste… delicious.”
The air grew thick around you, the buzzing vibrating in your teeth and before you realized it you were running without thinking, pulling your door open and bolting down the hallway of your apartment building not caring how loud you were being. You still clutched the sage bundle in your hands, the leaves crumbling in your tight, sweaty grip.
Before you reached the stairwell, you glanced over your shoulder to your apartment. You fully expected to see nothing, to have yet another realization that you were slowly going insane but instead you saw something that made you shudder in fear and something else you were quite able to identify.
You saw him, looking exactly like he had always been described to you when your friends exchanged urban legends with each other. Almost impossible tall, with a long coat and a hook for a hand. And he was standing in your doorway, watching you run away with dark eyes that told you he wasn’t going to give up the chase so easily.
⚬──────────✧──────────⚬
send a request!
